Ripon

January 16, 2015May 9, 2024 ~ travelsandtomes ~ 10 Comments

Ripon–you’ve heard the name on Downton Abbey. It’s a beautiful, small market city in North Yorkshire, England, and it was my home for four fabulous years.

HPIM0434a — Walking down Kirkgate toward the cathedral.

I’ve found myself backing up old photos this week, and feeling nostalgic about life in Ripon. It was ideal. My children were young and came to believe that they were actually Brits, accent and all. They attended British school, we spent our days in beautiful environs and living with a decidedly British/European sensability. We walked to school, to swim lessons, to church, to the grocery store; through rain, through snow, through days of unending summer sun or unending winter dark. We walked a few blocks out our front door in one direction, and we were in the market square; another direction, and we were in sheep pastures; yet another direction, and we walked the river banks. We enjoyed Michaelmas and Bonfire Night in the autumn, Candelmas in February, and Shakespeare performances outdoors all summer.

Ripon Market Square, Copyright David Dixon and licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence.

Ripon Spa, where my children swam, and still largely unchanged a few years ago.

As a home base, Ripon was lovely. I think she’s equally engaging for the passer-through too. The market square is the center of town–literally and figuratively–and Daniel Defoe called it “the finest and most beautiful square that is to be seen of its kind in England.” If you go on market day, the space is bustling. You might enjoy coffee and scones at one corner of the square, in the old Wakeman’s House (which, I hope, still houses a tearoom. . .and possibly a ghost). The cafe there is fabulous, and the house is a landmark dating back to the 14th century, and once belonging to the last “wakeman” of Ripon. The wakeman set the town watch at night, meaning that he was the watchman, entrusted to keep the town safe from villians and marauders.

Ripon still observes the Wakeman’s Ceremony (dating back to 866). Each night at 9 pm, the town Wakeman strides to the center of the market square (by the obelisk) and blows his horn to let the people know that the night watchman

George Pickles, the Wakeman, photo courtesy of the BBC

is on duty to keep them safe. Of course, the town’s safety is in the hands of its police these days, but George Pickles, who performed Wakeman duties and set the watch while we lived there (and may still) did a fabulous job keeping the tradition alive and speaking with townspeople and tourists about the history of Ripon.

There is certainly history in abundance on show at the cathedral. The crypt dates back to the 7th century, and the cathedral to the 1100’s; the misericord carvings are said to have inspired Louis Carroll and Alice in Wonderland; and it’s one of the few places on earth that still celebrates Candlemas on February 2nd (thousands of candles, and candles only, light the cathedral to celebrate the purification of Mary, and also the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox–you know this day as Groundhog’s Day!).

If you ever find yourself in N. Yorkshire, near Harrogate, give Ripon a look. The walks are beautiful, the Workhouse Museum and Police Museums are interesting, and the people are fabulous. For pubs, I recommend The One Eyed Rat and The Water Rat. For dining, The Royal Oak, Lockwoods, and Balti House (right there on Kirkgate by the cathedral). I also recommend that you take me with you. Ahhh, I miss Ripon some days. . .

Wordless Wednesday

Image ~ January 7, 2015 ~ travelsandtomes ~ 2 Comments

Metz, France

In the English Kitchen: Steak and Ale Pie

November 18, 2014 ~ travelsandtomes ~ 6 Comments

We lived in North Yorkshire for 4 years, and, despite what people like to say about British food, some of it is VERY good. Granted, top of that list is the Indian food you get there. But if you haven’t tried a really good sticky toffee pudding or a gourmet steak and ale pie, you’re missing out. And even “tired old” mincemeat pies and Sunday roast can be a revelation with the right ingredients and in the right person’s artful hands!

I’m about to bring you a recipe that is divine–but first, a rudimentary primer on food in England.

The Markets: Here I speak for my old home town of Ripon, N. Yorkshire, especially. I love the vibrant market squares and market days in British cities, towns, and villages. I love walking home with baskets of fresh produce, hearing the fishmonger call out his wares, seeing what the pottery merchant has found to carry in on any given week (and hoping he’s stocking my favorite Blue Willow), and scanning the candy stall for my children’s favorite bits and bobs.

Nigella: If you’ve never been a fan, open up one of her cookbooks and go for a leisurely read. I’d start with Nigella Christmas–because it’s almost the season, it’s a good read, and it’s where I started. If you’re not smitten with her prose, then whip up her Guinness Gingerbread. If you’re still not besotted. . .I just can’t help you.

Tea: If someone invites you over for tea, don’t imagine (as most Americans do) that you’ll be drinking Twinings at a table with Paddington Bear. The invitation is likely for dinner, not a tea party. “Cream Tea” often indicates tea and scones or sweet pastries in the afternoon, but “Tea” is dinner.

Pudding: When we first moved to England (in 2005), we were amused at how often we were offered “pudding” in restaurants. I mean, we like pudding, but couldn’t figure out what the national obsession with it was all about. Turns out, “pudding” means dessert. We quickly learned to say “Yes, please,” to any offer of pudding!

Meat Pies: Today, I’m focused on a fabulous, piping hot Steak and Ale pie (recipe below). But Brits also love cold meat pies. A cold steak pie from a deli counter is doable for a quick lunch, but not great. And pork pies? Don’t get me started. Okay, I don’t do pork, so this may be a little unfair, but cold, gelatinous meat in a cold, blah pastry case– I don’t get it. Except in a Dickensian way–I mean, I suppose it has a certain bit of atmosphere: a cold, tired chimney sweep might ‘ha a ‘litl bit o’ da pie fur lunch. (Yes, I overindulged in Mary Poppins as a kid.) But, truth is, I have plenty of friends, and one husband, who seem to like a bit o’ the cold pie, so to each his own.

Let’s launch into the reason you are here: the world’s greatest Steak and Ale Pie recipe. It comes from Williams-Sonoma. (I know it should come from a British source, but this really is the best I’ve found. . .even if it is from California.) And one more disclaimer–please listen, because this is important–this will take you most of the day. Only start this on a rainy weekend day when you want to hang out at home for hours. And, yes, you will begin cursing halfway through this and saying, “Never again!” But then the pie will smell soooo delicious as it cooks that you’ll start to drool as it comes out of the oven. You’ll dig into the flaky pastry and lift a fork to your mouth.

Angels will sing, devils will dance, and you’ll be in love.

Oh, you’ll make it again. And again. (Hint: if you cook a very large recipe, you can freeze half of the filling and turn it into a pie at a later date with minimum effort.)

Here’s the recipe, also available at http://www.williams-sonoma.com/recipe/beef-and-stout-pie.html

WILLIAMS-SONOMA BEEF AND STOUT PIE

This hearty beef stew is slowly simmered on the stovetop, then topped with Stilton pastry and finished in a hot oven.

*My note: I usually skip the Stilton pastry and use a puff pastry. The Stilton is good, but very rich, and this is already a rich pie.

Ingredients:

7 Tbs. olive oil
1 lb. white button mushrooms, quartered
2 cups frozen pearl onions, thawed
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
3 1/2 lb. beef chuck roast, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 cup all-purpose flour
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 Tbs. tomato paste
2 1/2 cups Irish stout
1 cup beef broth
1 lb. carrots, cut into chunks
1 lb. red potatoes, cut into chunks
1 Tbs. finely chopped fresh thyme
One 16-inch round Stilton pastry (see recipe link below)
1 egg, beaten with 1 tsp. water

Directions:

In a 5 1/2-quart Dutch oven over medium-high heat, warm 1 Tbs. of the olive oil. Add the mushrooms, onions, salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, about 12 minutes. Transfer to a bowl.

Season the beef with salt and pepper. Dredge the beef in the flour, shaking off the excess. In the Dutch oven over medium-high heat, warm 2 Tbs. of the olive oil. Add one-third of the beef and brown on all sides, about 7 minutes total. Transfer to a separate bowl.

Add 1/2 cup water to the pot, stirring to scrape up the browned bits. Pour the liquid into a separate bowl. Repeat the process 2 more times, using 2 Tbs. oil to brown each batch of beef and deglazing the pot with 1/2 cup water after each batch.

Return the pot to medium-high heat. Add the garlic and tomato paste and cook, stirring constantly, for 30 seconds. Add the beef, stout, broth and reserved liquid, stirring to scrape up the browned bits. Add the mushrooms, onions, carrots, potatoes and thyme and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium-low, cover and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the beef and vegetables are tender, about 3 hours.

Preheat an oven to 400°F. Brush the rim of the pot with water. Lay the pastry round on top, allowing it to droop onto the filling. Trim the dough, leaving a 1-inch overhang, and crimp to seal. Brush the pastry with the egg mixture, then cut 4 slits in the top of the dough. Bake for 30 minutes. Let the potpie rest for 15 minutes before serving. Serves 8 to 10.Stilton Pastry recipe can be accessed at http://www.williams-sonoma.com/recipe/stilton-pastry.html?cm_src=SEARCH_FEATURELIST||NoFacet-_-NoFacet-_-Feature_Recipe_Rule&cm_re=OnsiteSearch-_-SCHBillboard-_-SEARCH_FEATURELIST

Williams-Sonoma Kitchen.

Saints in the Sanctuary (Cathedral in Metz, France)

October 21, 2014May 9, 2024 ~ travelsandtomes ~ 3 Comments

The cathedral in Metz is stunning. Stunning. And so are all of the saints and sinners gathered there.

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” I think Oscar Wilde said that, and I was reminded of it on a recent stroll through this cathedral. From the saints in stone and glass, to the flesh and blood “man on fire” in the chapel, the capering kids in the sanctuary, the ponderous men, the caught-off-guard woman, and the industrious cleaning crew–it was a storied space.

Not to cast my nets on the wrong side of the boat, but I have to say that the stony saints left me a bit cold. They were beautiful, but judgmental. The saints in stained glass were warmer–the glow, the glint, the dancing of light in and through them–they were more dynamic, less rigid.

And the poor, scattered people, scurrying about the cathedral, or sitting in thought, or minding their own business and working diligently, or standing at the threshold of a fiery chapel–they were the stories in play, the ones the space exists for. So I turned my camera on them.

Even the cathedral itself seemed to hint at its own impish personality as we left, the sun glinting through its windows for just a second–the unmistakable wink of a storyteller pleased with himself.

See for yourself:

In Praise of the Random… or, How I stumbled on Frankenstein Castle

October 16, 2014October 16, 2014 ~ travelsandtomes ~ 2 Comments

Sometimes days don’t turn out quite the way you planned. And those unexpected things that crop up…well, in Europe, they can take an interesting turn.

A few days ago we hopped in the car to head off to a wine festival just 50 minutes away. We went early with kids in tow, expecting to catch a little wine and food and a few rides for the kids, but not the raucous, full-on wine lover’s equivalent of Oktoberfest. “Fest-light” was our goal.

What we got was “Fest-Ultra-Light.” It seems we arrived the morning after the big parade, and the morning before the evening’s concluding fireworks gala. The place was a ghost town. A few other early risers were taking in the food and drink, and we had the rides all to ourselves. Sure, there are advantages to skipping the crowds, but it felt like we’d missed the party and showed up for the hangover. Hmmm…

The fest was a bit of a wash for us.

But that didn’t matter to me because on our way over the river and through the woods to the Fest that wasn’t, we drove through Frankenstein village. Are you listening? We drove through Frankenstein Village! Who knew?

This humble village lies on a winding road, cozied in tight between hills and streams, high trees, and old homes. It is close to Durkheim and Speyer in the Palatinate Forest of Germany. And as we drove through the Palatinate Forest, the fog just beginning to lift, the road twisting us until we were dizzy, we saw a flash of sign reading “Frankenstein,” and then looked up to see this:

If that isn’t a great October morning eye opener, then there’s no such thing! You can keep your tootsie rolls, candy corn, and bit-o-honey–I’ve had my Halloween treat!!!!

(But I’d still take some wax lips, if you’re handing them out. . .)

Here are a few notes on Frankenstein Castle:

*It dates from the 12th century, and was under the administration of the von Frankensteins.

*It lies on a strategic outcropping, began as a fortified tower, and was added to and then damaged in many skirmishes from the 1200’s through the 1500’s.

*The castle is presently more of a ruin than a castle, but it’s now owned by the Rhineland-Palatinate state and some foundational restoration has been done.

**HERE’S THE THING: A lot of confusion arises because there is another, more intact, castle near Darmstadt (in Muhltal) that bills itself as Frankenstein Castle. It seems likely that it was an inspiration for Mary Shelley’s story. A man named Dippel was born in that castle, and stories surrounded Dippel and his claims to have created an oil that was an “elixir of life.” An earlier owner of this house was the founder of the Barony of Frankenstein, but now this castle hosts Halloween parties and capitalizes on the Frankenstein tale. Both castles, however, trace back to the Frankenstein name.

Ultimately, the name Frankenstein was chosen by Shelley for her fictional tale. If it took these German rumors or atmosphere as its starting point, that’s great, but Shelley was the doctor who breathed life into the story.

Maybe the inspiration struck her on the way home from a wine fest. Maybe.

One more photo for you. This has got to be one of my favorite sign-clusterings. Ever.

Frankenstein’s Castle.