Le Grand Depart

As I look out today it is gloomy, and when I ventured outside there is also a damp cold in the air. The days are short and the post Christmas gloom is beginning to settle in. So it seems only natural to look back to those halcyon days in June when Yorkshire became the sixth overseas Department of France and hosted Le Grand Depart. Now I am cynical about such things however the good feeling that this brought to our region was immeasurable.

To those who do not know the Tour De France is the biggest spectator event in the world, 20 teams of nine riders race for three weeks around France, over cobbles, over fearsome climbs, through towns and villages cumulating in a finish on the Champs Elysees in Paris. The start or Depart is often though in a neighbouring country. This year a brilliant campaign by Welcome to Yorkshire secured the start for only the third rime in England during the first weekend in July. It was just stunning.

So often the marketing blurb for these events talks about community participation and a lasting legacy, this time it was really true. The whole of the county was bedecked with decorated bicycles, houses were painted in the colours of the leaders jerseys, hill passes were given French names, and in one town all the pubs changed their name to their French equivalents, the White Horse becoming Le Cheval Blanc etc…… And all that was in the weeks leading up to the big event.

Millions turned up for the actual racing. Relatively remote roads were thronged with people even though they had had to walk in, roads being closed to traffic up to 48 hours in advance. From the overhead TV shots it was impossible to tell where the riders were, amongst the spectators.

On a personal front we had a great couple of days. On the Saturday we based ourselves at Brymor Ice-cream near Masham in the Yorkshire Dales. As an aside this is a result of a farm with surplus milk production diversifying into other products. Their Black Sheep Ice Cream (real ale enthusiasts will know the reference) is superb. Well it just happens that the farms is right on the race route, and had a large car park. So with our friends Barbara and Iain we arrived at the farm at 8am, and fortified by bacon sandwiches settled down in a field next to the road. What was a rainy day was transformed as the sun shone. And eventually on a remote country road we were joined by three or four hundred spectators all picnicking and generally having a good time. As the tour caravan, support cars, and enough motorcyclists to protect all the European heads of state in one go processed past, the excitement grew. Then the helicopters were spotted over the road and the cyclists rushed through at 30 plus miles and hour, all over in sixty seconds. A great day.

 

On the Sunday I worked as a volunteer steward near Bolton Abbey. It was a privilege to hear the tales of those who came to watch and see the sheer enthusiasm of the crowd. It was a feel good event par excellence. The crescendo of noise when the race careered down the hill to roundabout ate the bottom. It seemed to me a miracle that the close packed group of riders safely negotiated the roundabout at breakneck speed, and then it was over……

The legacy has persisted though, there is more cycling in Yorkshire, a new race around the county has been promoted in 2015, the great countryside and towns of God’s own country were promoted round the world. Hopefully this will bear fruit in increased visitor number in future years. An all round success!!!!! For once the actual event was greater than the hype.

The Unsung Hero’s

At this time of year my thoughts turn to those people who are working over the holidays. This is because my daughter in law will be working as a doctor in A & E today, not a day that she was looking forward to for obvious reasons. Also over the last year I have a lot of personal experience of our National Health Service, I also hear anecdotes from the inside from my daughter in law, son, and daughter. With all of that input I think that I have learnt some lessons, which are surprising, and instructive.

During the days that we were with my mother earlier in the year in Conquest Hospital in Hastings there were some fantastic acts of personal kindness shown to us by the staff. Firstly a doctor who had admitted my mum, a week later on a Friday dropped by to a completely different ward to see how we were all doing. Now this doctor did not have to do this, indeed she had been working long shifts, but in what was a difficult time it was a ray of sunshine and comfort. Secondly a nurse took me to one side and gave me a parking pass. She had noticed the time we had spent at the hospital, again a completely un-looked for kindness. These were personal examples, but the care on the ward was totally based on the professionalism of individual, but also acts of kindness that went beyond the regular tasks that had to be completed.

Now it just so happened that this coincided with an announcement by the government that Health Service workers were not to get an annual pay rise, a situation that has been repeated over the years. In parallel they announced that they would no longer pursue a case through the European Courts to enable bankers to receive more than £2 million an annual bonuses. I am sure that the irony of this is not lost on my readership reflecting the skewed priorities of our society. Now I know that money isn’t everything, though it obviously is if you work in financial services, but a measure of our society should be how we treat those who have no bargaining power.

So at this Christmas Season give a thought for those who are working in our hospitals. Think carefully as to who is going to help you when you are in need, particularly as you cast your vote in the United Kingdom in May 2015. Do you want a world-class health service, or people in financial services receiving extreme bonuses?

Happy Christmas

It is difficult to write this without falling into clichés or becoming maudlin, but I shall I attempt to. Without more ado I will wish my entire readership the happiest and most enjoyable of Christmas Days. May there be happiness and joy, and not too many arguments over the charades or TV schedules. We will be thinking of all our friends and family celebrating in their various time zones and in their own unique ways.

It is all too easy to become too nostalgic today, to look back at Christmas’s past through rose coloured spectacles. I remember the Christmas’s when our children were younger, the faces round the door at 6am with a whispered “is it too early yet”. When the house was full with parents and there was a rigid plan to attend church on Christmas morning. I also remember how dog tired we often felt when excited children would not fall asleep so “Santa” could not pay his visit. Remembering when attempting to flambé the Christmas pudding I set the whole worktop alight!!!!

Now I love that I can once more see children’s pleasure through my beautiful grandchildren, I feel sad that my parents will no longer be with us, I love that we will share our dinner with good friends, most of all that Marion and myself have been able to evolve our Christmas around our relationship.

I also feel that Christmas challenges us, the cliché that we are enjoying the earths bounty while others are suffering is never more true. We were driving along a picture perfect Scarborough seafront on Christmas Eve, when I glanced across to the pavement and saw what was obviously a homeless person sat with a can of booze in a shelter. For that man there was no shelter at the inn. As the vast majority of us do I passed on the other side. This will be hugely difficult but now that I have more time I have resolved to attempt to move more across the road in the New Year. I have the example of one of my friends who without fuss volunteers in a soup kitchen.

So may your turkey be well stuffed, your pudding be flaming, your crackers be bountiful and your hangover small. Happy Christmas one and all.

Christmas Eve - My Goose is not cooked

I still approach Christmas Eve with a sense of excitement, though not quite at the levels of frenzy that my two granddaughters displayed when we were with them on Monday. I am excited at the thought of the family gathering in the days after Christmas, there will be much reminiscing and particularly leg-pulling as, you know who I am talking about, nobody taking themselves too seriously. The only difference is that in previous years Christmas Eve has marked the transition between work and the holidays. Will the sound of the first verse of Once in Royal David’s City have the same resonance for me this year?

This is the start of Christmas when I am up to my elbows making stuffing, a glass of wine at my side and the magnificent choir of Kings College playing on the radio in the background. There is also of course the good natured need to make sure that Marion is progressing successfully with preparations for Christmas dinner, my favourite meal of the year. It is a great feeling as darkness takes hold and the Christmas lights twinkle on the tree.

This year our Christmas Eve will not follow its traditional course; we have been invited to friends who eat their Christmas dinner early on Christmas Eve. I am really looking forward to this break from tradition, and in particular that we will be eating goose, which even at my advanced age will be a new experience. Never to young to change eh…..

Postscript – One of the disadvantages of writing this slightly in advance is that it doesn’t anticipate one of your hosts being unwell. My goose is cooked!!!!!

It will also be the day to remember Christmases past, when the children were younger and excited shouts filled the house, when my parents were alive and Christmas started earlier when frequently we drove to collect everybody.

While not wishing to make Marion too big headed, she does cook a magnificent Christmas Dinner. This year we are sharing with friends, mmm… I can smell that turkey already, and taste the special bottle of Gigondas that was purchased in its own village last summer for this very purpose.

Most of all I would like to wish you all a great Christmas that fulfils all your dreams; I am off to make the stuffing.

Good Food, Good Company

Readers of this blog will already be aware of the importance of good food to me. On Sunday we visited our all time favourite restaurant with our friends Barbara and Iain, the restaurant to which we always return. Later I will review some of the memorable meals that I have eaten in 2014, some of them were stellar but always for all round pleasure we return the Pipe and Glass at South Dalton in Humberside.

As you can see this is essentially a country pub that has evolved into a restaurant. Indeed it is the quintessential English Pub, but one that follows the modern convention of serving really good imaginative food under chef James Mackenzie. The ambience is established immediately you set foot inside, there is a glowing fire, with a great range of local real ales.  Indeed this set’s the tone as I am a firm believer that great restaurants use first class local ingredients, the fewer food miles the better.

The pub is full of nooks and crannies, but there is plenty of space, the service is friendly, professional without being obsequious. But what we really come for is great food that is cooked well and consistently. All four of us completely cleared our plates and thoroughly enjoyed all of the courses. Let us start with roast potatoes, now these are a simple dish giving much pleasure, however they are notoriously difficult for a restaurant to present successfully, today they were crisp on the outside and fluffy on the inside - perfect. The perfect accompaniment to the loin of venison that I ate, with the interesting sides of a deep fried haggis and blackberries. The contrast of the sharpness of the blackberries combined with the blandness of the haggis perfectly cut through the richness of the very tender venison.

I could write at greater length about the great salmon tartare with fried oysters and the hot bitter chocolate pudding, but even writing this makes me aware of what a skill a food writer/restaurant critic has to have, and how I need to develop my writing about food. As also can be seen I need more skill as a food photographer, particularly to remember to take the picture before I start eating!

Of course the other vital component to a meal is the company, our conversation ranged wide and contained much leg pulling particularly of the men. Well we arrived at the pub at 2.15 and left at 6 having had a great lunch having eaten and drunk very well. A fabulous Sunday.