leyton.org

Or… ‘Naughty Elephants Squirt Water’

I’m sure everybody has childhood mantras mnemonics and rhymes they used (or had used on them) to remember key pieces of information. Others that spring easily to mind as I type are “Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vein” for the colours of the rainbow, and, strangely, BODMAS (Brackets (of) Division, Multiplication, Addition, Subtraction) for precedence in mathematics. I hope!

As with most things learnt by rote, it’s not really much of a surprise they stick with us throughout life. Of course, they don’t necessary imbue any understanding, certainly when it comes to more complex concepts and ideas. Far better, in my mind, to teach the mechanics and principles of learning so we appreciate and understand, and can apply it, than simple mindless repetition of pieces of information.

But I still find it amusing that I catch myself automatically referring back to those mantras. In my minds eye, if I hear “westbound delays on the M8″, as well as feeling sorry for the poor sods caught in their car, my mind does a quick check which way is west relative to north.

Perhaps more amusingly (some might say concerning), is I have a recollection from when I must have been a few years old, learning my left from my right. I struggled a bit for some reason, but seemed to finally ‘get it’ at the top of some stairs at my parents’ land ladies house (a huge, vast and therefore endlessly fascinating house, near where we lived). Ask me now to ‘picture’ left and right, I’ll immediately find myself transported back there. I even remember the carpet detail, the large wooden banister rails and the carvings, now that I think about it.

I also remember my brother and I genuinely surprising my father, just a year or two back, by both recalling the number plates of all the cars he’d ever owned whilst we were growing up.

Curious thing, memory.

Yesterday I posted a transcript of the 1967-68 Good Food Guide review of my Grandparent’s restaurant, The Miners Arms. It rather appealed to me for the brief insight into the character of my Grandfather.

Another review followed in 1969-70, and was also available at Thornbury Castle, so I snapped a copy. It too has a wonderful anti-garlic quote (my Grandparents were famous garlic haters), and I love the comments about the size of parties, and opening hours being dependent on the boiler. Marvellous. Note it also got a Good Food Award.

I should stress, the Miners’ Arms is now a residential house (has been for quite some time).

Anyway, without further ado:

PRIDDY, Somerset   Miners’ Arms 4 Miles NW of Wells. Map 2. Priddy 217

Paul Leyton and his wife continue the individuality and excellence of their cuisine and wines at this remote and rather drab-looking inn. It is not even in Priddy, which is remote enough; it stands about two miles to the north-east, at the junction of the B3134 and B3135; a small off-white building. The food is a la carte only; an average lunch will cost you 22/-, and dinner is 27/6, excluding wine; the menu is unusual and imaginative. Among the best dishes are Mendip snails a la sauce du patron, cooked in a mixture of English herbs and ‘not obliterated by garlic’ (1/2 dozen, 6/6); clear snail soup (5/-); quenelles of Chew Valley trout with Normandy sauce (8/- as a starter); chicken in cider (10/0); quenelles of veal with mushroom sauce (11/6 as main dish); smothered chicken (with cream, onions an white wine (9/-); steak Theodora (with herbs), (17/6) ; lemon syllabub (3/6); and Miners’ Delight (cream ice and apricot in a pastry case with hot sherry sauce and cream, 3/6). As is perhaps inevitable in such a position, the deep freeze is used, but if it was always used so skilfully we should not complain. It is no place for large party, as everything is cooked to order. ‘Six is the maximum we can cope with in one party,’ states Mr Leyton, ‘to cook for more at the same time seizes up the kitchen.’ You must be prepared to wait half an hour in the lounge while your starters are cooked and be some time at table. The rooms are rather simple. The wines, about 85 in all, are chosen with great skill, and as things are (alas) can’t be called expensive. Quarter-pint glasses of French red or white cost 3/6 to 4/6; among the more expensive wines, a personal choice would be Ch. La Louviere, white Graves, ‘59 (22/-) or Scholls Bockelheimer ‘64 (21/-) to begin with, Ch. Bourgneuf ‘55 (26/-) or Volnay Caillerets ‘57 (28/-) to follow, and thereafter ask Mr Leyton’s advice.

Cl. Chr. & Boxing Days; probably 2 weeks end Nov/Dec; ‘and when the boiler bursts’. Must book. Meals 11.30-2; (summer) 6-9.45 (Su 7-7.30); (winter) 6.30-8.30 (Sa 9.3, Su 7-7.30). Alc main dishes 5/6 to 17/6. Cover 2/6. Seats 24. Restaurant & residential lic. Car park. No dogs in d/r. B&B from 30/-. STABILISED PRICES

GOOD FOOD AWARD CLASS C

Whilst at a family wedding last week at Thornbury Castle, my father showed me a copy the castle had in its library of the 1967-68 Good Food Guide, which contained a review of my Grandparent’s restaurant, The Miners’ Arms.

My Grandfather died back in 1998 (his obituaries are available to read here), and throughout my life I’ve always been very interested in what he got up, and what people had to say about him. So this rather tickled me, as it gives a bit of insight into my grandfather’s character.

That said, perhaps I’m rather affected by my own memories. Reading it now, I’m sure he probably annoyed a few people in his time with his idea of refusing to serve people particular dishes who ’spoilt their palettes’, but as somebody who’s toes curl whenever I see anybody unthinkingly applying salt to a meal (particularly one I’ve cooked) before tasting it, I can certainly sympathise.

Another anecdote relayed to me by one of my uncles was that of my Grandfather’s refusal to wear a morning suit to his wedding very much the standard custom at the time I gather. Very good to hear of his dislike of tradition, and his independent views very much to the fore.

Anyway, without further ado, here’s the extract from pages 261-262 of the 1967-68 Good Food Guide, by Raymond Postgate.

PRIDDY, Somerset. The Miners’ Arms, near Wells. At junction of B3134 and B3135. Map 2. Priddy. 217

During 1968 Mr and Mrs Paul Leyton, whose cuisine and wines at this whitewashed inn on the Mendip plateau have for six years earned the highest praise members can bestow, became known to an even wider public as the people who turned away ‘a four-guinea orange slubbed silk Cecil Gee roll-neck shirt’. This matter is referred to in the Preface: Mr Leyton’s own staff are informal both in dress and manner. Anyway, in the evening, though not at lunch, women must wear skirts and men jackets, collars and ties. Mr Leyton is strict in other respects, too – he will not service his more delicate dishes to people who insist on spoiling their palate by drinking martinis beforehand – and, not surprisingly, some people think the food does not justify the fuss. But most are content to take the Miners’ Arms on its own terms. Mr Leyton uses his deep-freeze cleverly and defends its use elegantly, but an occasional dish of some freshly-dug and cooked root vegetable might with advantage appear more often on his menus. The restaurant is well known for its morning-gathered Mendip snails (7/6 a half dozen, or 5/- as a clear soup) but for delicacy his quenelles of trout (8/6), or loin of pork smoked in his own vast chumney (7/6) are better starters. Main courses, though very good, especially steak Theodora (rare with herbs, 17/6), are less remarkable. To finish, try orange conserve (5/-). The wine list has been reconstructed: there is still a ‘49 Ch. Petrus (80/-) or a ‘59 Musigny (50/-) or other even dearer bottles for a great occasion, but there are also five simple draught wines at 16/- a pint, and a charming English rose from Lt-Col Gore-Browne’s vineyard at Beaulieu (26/-).

Cl. Chr. & Boxing Days; 3 weeks Nov-Dec; Su D. Must book. Meals 11.30-2; 6-9.45 (winter, 8.30). Alc main dishes 7/6 to 17/6. Cover 2/6. Seats 24. No dogs. B&B from 35/- p.d.

* Class C

App. by too many members to list.

I spent this morning up in Balloch, supporting the hundreds of runners in the Vale of Leven 10k, the last race of the 2009 Polaroid 10k series. I’d have been running myself if I’d got my finger out and entered in time, but figured it’s just as important to do a spot of supporting on occasion to make up for all the cheers I’ve received when running myself! I took my camera along and snapped away quite furiously, and think I managed to capture a picture of almost everybody taking part in the process. My pictures are available on flickr here.

I had a great spot in the first 1k where the leaders were already edging ahead, and snapped most people as they want past, even chucking some money in Tommy’s collection bucket, before jogging to the 4k mark where the runners emerged out from their loop of the Balloch Castle park. After snapping most people there, I then headed back to the finish area to catch most of the finishers. I’d missed the winners, but my excuse is I’d foolishly not put on running shoes or gear, so was plodding along in jeans and heavy shoes. Not the best. Ah well. Didn’t do too badly.

It was wonderful to see so many participants, not only from my own running club, but so many from Glasgow parkrun too. My only difficulty is remembering names! So my apologies if I just cheered something generic. So many people seem to know my name as a result of giving the pre-race briefing to the 1200+ runners who’ve now taken part, I only know a fraction of your names. But great efforts from everybody taking part. It was a warm and sunny day, so looked like it was tough going in the second half of the course, where shade was in short supply!

Regarding the pics: As I say on the notes, please get in touch if you’d like higher resolution pictures, or if you’d like to use the pictures at all.

I’ve just booked my post-London Marathon hotel. A bit of luxury to, I hope, reward 4 months of hard graft. And also not very far away from the finish line, just on the other side of Green Park. Should be eminently walkable, even after 26.2 miles and sore legs. Heck, Frances may even be able to carry me there

I’d also rather fancied getting the train back on Monday. I’m not a fan of flying unless it’s necessary or the only option available. Previously I’ve managed to find very good deals from Glasgow to London, even at peak times, with a bit of advanced planning (a rare commodity in my case). It’s quite possible to get first class travel if you travel outside of the rush hour, and the price difference is often as little as £15 – Given you get free meals on the way, it’s not much different from standard class plus a couple of sandwiches and coffee from the buffet car. Plus you don’t get half as many distractions, so it’s ideal if you plan to work.

Unfortunately, I was in for a bit of a shock last night. Because I’ll be in London already (I’m going to be quite some way south on business, and arrangements are being made by my client), I’m just looking at a single ticket rather than a return. It seems that train prices, with Virgin Rail at least, are geared on return travel. Consequently where it was once not much difference in price to travel by train, it’s looking very hard to justify not flying back (Assuming I can make it up the boarding stairs; I’ve heard horror stories of marathoners struggling to get on flights! And I do like a good horror story to keep me honest)

I’m not sure whether this is a function of dropping demand for air travel keeping easyjet and co’s prices low (it is also unusually foresighted of me to be planning a flight 10 days in advance), or whether the train companies simply don’t have a system to adjust ticket price based on availability: Surely one of the best legacies of budget air travel?

Regardless, I’m now pondering flying back, and then putting the money I’d save on the train trip I’d planned, to good use with a nice meal out with Frances later in the week. Heck, with the money I’d save I could probably buy a chunk of rain forest.

If the Government really wants to do something about getting more people to travel by train, it would do very well to insist they adopt the pricing strategy of budget airlines because as things stands, train travel is starting to look prohibitively expensive, even if you’re prepared to spend a bit extra.

After my previous post on my marathon plans for 2009, I managed to forget all about my club’s ballot for places. I convinced myself that I was quite happy with Edinburgh for a first marathon, and I really didn’t care about not getting in to London in 2009.

I’d also discounted going for a charity place. I suppose I felt that asking people for sponsorship, when I (expect to) enjoy it all so much, was a bit of an ask. 

With the draw for club places taking a bit earlier than previous years, due to a change in the deadlines for applications, I got to thinking about things afresh over the weekend. It’s very clear to me that London is THE marathon to try for. It’s one of the biggest marathons in the world, and the support along the route is, I’m told, second to none. And that’s even before my running club’s support crew are factored in. It’s quite an expedition of other halves and supporters. Quite the club event. I understand there are usually between 20 and 30 participants as we’ve got a good few ‘Good for age’ entrants, in all age groups.

So I figured I couldn’t not put my name forward. I could always recant to my original position of not being bothered if I didn’t get picked. 

So on a cold evening, the names were in the hat. I was quite surprised by the odds. Six names in the hat, for four places allocated to the club. Much better odds than in the main ballot! Two names were drawn out without my being mentioned, so it was down to a 50/50 chance of a place. The third name was drawn, and after what felt like an eternity (un-peeling post-it notes with gloves would appear to be quite a challenge), my name was read out.

Suffice to say I’m absolutely delighted, and chuffed by the congratulations from many of my fellow runners. I don’t think the grin came off my face for a good few miles into last nights session, which was quite tough, as I’ve a feeling I’ve the onset of a cold. Didn’t help that I was running with the faster ‘B’ group, when I should probably have been taking it a bit easier.

Training kicks off early in the new year, and what with the Glasgow parkrun to organise (at least until a few other volunteers step forward to help with things), my Saturday mornings are going to be quite busy. But I’m really excited about the prospect. Despite this rather amusing video sent by my friend (and fellow London 2009 marathoner), David.

I was in a meeting recently regarding the forthcoming Glasgow parkrun, and one of the Pollok park representatives asked if I’d support the effort by Friends of Linn park to bring a pebble beach picnic area and improved pathways to the park. 

I love Linn park – it’s Glasgow’s second biggest park, after Pollok, and absolutely delightful. It’s also one of it’s least well known. When I ran through there recently with some fellow runners, many commented that they’d never been to the park, and it boasts a few beautiful outlooks over the Cart. More about the park at the councils website.

The effort by the Friends of Linn park is competing with another project to win funding from the Big Lottery People’s millions, so needs people to phone up and support it. Lines open on Monday 24th from 9am, to midnight. Details on STV Scotland Today on the 24th, and via biglotteryfund.org.uk/peoplesmillions. There’s also more on the Linn park website.

We’ve a bit of a dilemma over our central heating. The boiler we have is around 30 years old, so clearly a classic example of the sort of boiler that we’re being encouraged to upgrade to newer, more efficient condensing boiler systems. If we also moved to a “combi” boiler we’d lose the hot water tank (we don’t make much use of it, on the whole, as we have an electric shower), and – I’m told – automatically save about 25% or so on our gas bills.

The complication comes in the fact that our boiler is outside the house, so we have no gas coming in to the house. I’m a big fan of induction hobs, so have no desire to return to gas hobs, so don’t really want to bring gas inside if we can avoid it. Why in the house? Well it turns out that modern boilers are designed to be inside. They’ve complicated parts, and consist of copper and complex electronics. They just can’t live outside without proper protection.

In comparison, we’ve currently got something a solid-workhorse of a boiler: It lives in a simple walled structure (single bricks) with a basic roof and door with some basic insulation. It just about withstood the gales/storms last week. It’s got (I understand) a cast iron core, so can withstand the temperature and humidity variance that comes with being outside in the boiler house. It’s also very uncomplicated. It heats water, has an outlet flue, and the only electronics are the ignition system and the pump. Hardly complicated. But because of the solid cast structure, it takes a fair bit more energy to get up and running in the mornings.

We could put the replacement boiler in a cupboard in a spare room (where the hot water tank is). It’s perfectly safe. The only place you can’t put a boiler is, I’m told, a bathroom. But personally I don’t like the idea of a boiler in a bedroom: it’d certainly be something I’d query if I was buying a house. Other locations in our house aren’t possible for a variety of reasons to do with layout, distance from gas meter and so on.

Whilst our boiler did break down recently (turns out the thermocouple needed replacing), I was rather reassured that it’s easy to fix (Although the markup charged for the thermocouple itself was eye-watering). Newer boilers with their electronics strike me as a bit more higher maintenance as they get older. Specialist parts are expensive even at the best of times. And there doesn’t seem to be a market these days for simple, cast-structure boilers that can work outside the house.

So our option, if we’re against getting gas run into the house, is to build-up our boiler house a bit from it’s current form, so a combi-boiler could be installed outside at the appropriate height, and to install a proper door/roof to keep the elements properly out. But after talking to the boiler repair engineer, I’m somehow reassured that our existing boiler, despite its various inefficiencies still has a fair bit of life left in it. A classic example of old and reliable

Perhaps I can assuage my green-guilt with my ‘inefficent’ (but simple and reliable) boiler by keeping the hot water tank and getting solar panels fitted to reduce the need to fire up the boiler for the hot water we rarely need. But then is that practical in sunny Glasgow? Or perhaps we should get rid of the electric shower and use this hot water we’re heating? But I rather like the consistency and power of an electric shower.

There are a number of excellent programmes on television at the moment about the United States of America. Simon Schama’s The American Future: A History is a particular favourite, and whilst I’m enjoying the variety and cinematography of Steven Fry in America, I fear it’s taken on too much, so we’re left with fleeting glances. I suspect the companion book from Fry, which will probably be on my Christmas list, will be more in depth. Finally, we have Jon Snow’s American Journey, to be broadcast tonight. I always enjoy Jon Snow’s reports from America (he has a knack of finding interesting views from ordinary Americans), so this promises to be a treat.

But in watching any programme or news report on America, so much in vogue as the presidential election nears it’s climax, I find my mind is always cast back to a cafe in Luxembourg one spring day in what must have been 1996. Myself and two American friends and work colleagues (Amy and Peter) from the company we worked for in Düsseldorf, Germany, had hired a car and headed off on a road trip over one of the many really long German weekends.

Of course, given it was Amy who had booked the car, the German company presumed an automatic car was required, so that’s what we got. My first go driving such, and on the wrong side of the road too. I found the automatic harder to get used to by a long shot. A hill start in Monaco a few days into the trip had me asking (quite frantically, I recall) “but where’s the clutch; how can I start on a hill without the clutch”, only to be told all I needed to do was take my foot off the brake, and on to the accelerator.

Our trip took us down through Germany, to Strasburg, then in to Switzerland, where we stayed in Berne. Then down to Italy and Genoa, over the border to Monaco, then back through France, and a few excitements in Lyon, and on to Luxembourg. It was a great break, and what working abroad was all about.

Luxembourg left me with two memories. One, that there are an awful lot of petrol stations there. Brought about, I seem to recall, by the tax policies, which made it very attractive for German, Dutch, Belgian and French motorists to fill up.

The second leads on to my choice of the title. Over lunch, I idly asked Amy and Peter if they could name all fifty states, because, I suggested, I didn’t know if I could do the same about English counties (I knew I couldn’t name many Welsh ones, so English was it!). They seemed to think this was achievable, easy even, and set out to name them.

Thankfully we had a paper table cover, and a pen, so they set out to write out every state and write it down. Quick progress was made. I even chipped in with some easy ones. We made good progress. But as we hit 40 states, it genuinely started to get tricky. But one by one, they fell. Until we had 49 states. Out of, of course, 50.

And there it stayed. As did (perhaps most regrettably of all) the table cover. We didn’t take it with us, so no way of working out which one had been missed. So as a result I’m left with this annoying gap of one state. Whenever America is mentioned, a programme featuring an off-the-beaten track State, I always find myself wondering “was that the state we missed?“. That red table cover with the 49 states, and the furrowed brows of my American friends, 12 years ago in a Luxembourg cafe, at the end of a superb road trip. I’ll never know which one was it, of course. But do like to think back to a great road trip with good friends all those years ago.

I’m delighted to hear, and fully intend to support, the creation of a new ‘Friends of Pollok Park’ group that will be launching after the Save Pollok Park meeting (Tuesday 28th October at 7.30pm, at Pollokshaws Burgh Hall, opposite Pollok Park). Members of Kelvingrove Park’s Friends Group will be along to explain how they operate. A constructive supporters group should be a great asset to the park. I’ve myself put forward one or two ideas as to how the park could be improved, without recourse to commercially focused development, and hope they’ll be considered at the public meeting next week.

The Save Pollok Park meeting that precedes it should be interesting too, as it’ll be covering the legal arguments as to why the Go Ape lease can’t be granted, and updating supporters as to progress and strategies. Hopefully a constructive series of discussions. 

There’s a petition still open for supporters to sign. It closes next Tuesday, so be sure to get your name down on it before it’s presented to the council.