The Rochdale Nine, Manchester

Showing the Sanitary Station as you approach Castlefield.

Source: Personal Collection.

See that brick arch? Well yer water points are there, on the towpath, one each side!

Source: Personal Collection.

Background

The Rochdale Canal was completed in 1804 having first met with resistance from the Duke of Bridgewater who did not want it to connect to his canal. Eventually when he realised that he would lose trade if he continued to resist he agreed to a connection, but that he should have control over that connection,hence "The Dukes Lock" as he built and controlled the first lock on the flight.

After a long history the canal closed to traffic in 1952 apart from the short section making up the Rochdale Nine. The Ashton Canal fell into disuse and the Rochdale Nine quickly became unusable until the restoration of the Ashton in 1974 when the Nine was made usable again to complete the Cheshire Ring.

The restoration of the complete Rochdale Canal took many years longer, not being completed until 2002!

Although not really relevant to the Rochdale Nine, on the right are shown the Sanitary Station and water points.

The bottom gates of lock 92 are just visible in the foremost bridge hole.

Source: Personal Collection

How many of you remember the sign on the wall instructing all boaters to leave the lock empty to avoid flooding the cellar in the lock keepers cottage?

Source: Personal Collection

Lock 92, Dukes Lock and the beginning of the flight.

Situated in the heart of Manchester the Rochdale Nine is a flight of locks spread over about a mile and a quarter connecting the Bridgewater Canal to the Rochdale Canal and the Ashton Canal. It starts at Castlefield Basin with lock 92, The Dukes Lock,

Called the Dukes Lock because when the Rochdale was built the Duke of Bridgewater insisted on building and having control of the entrance to the Rochdale Canal.

Even though this lock appears to have a by-wash it actually leads to a tunnel that diverts the water either to a point beyond Hulme Lock or to the Medlock tunnel under the basin.

The base of the lock is cut directly into the local sandstone with an interesting shape and a bricked up exit by the lock cottage.

There is a profusion of bars in Castlefield, in fact you have to walk through the outside seating area of one to gain access to the lock - Catalan Square, I ask you,what's that all about? Is Manchester ashamed of its heritage?

The remains of the Grocers Tunnel. Note the very low water level and compare with other photographs taken on the same day of water cascading over lock gates.

Source: Personal Collection

The Grocers Tunnel

Before 1804 a short tunnel ran from the Grocers Warehouse in Castlefield to the Grocers Company yard on Bridgewater Street where boats were unloaded by hoist. When the Rochdale Canal was cut it bisected this tunnel leaving a short open length to the north of the Rochdale Canal.

In the 1970s I recall seeing several hulks rotting in this stretch of the cut, it was also around here where a restaurant boat made its home.

Source: Personal Collection

Lock 91, Tunnel Lock

Although there remains a short tunnel under Deansgate this was once much longer but opened out.

Out of all the locks in the flight this one probably has the least changed environs. Although now surrounded by bars they have not noticeably changed the structure of the buildings they inhabit.

There is no by-wash at this lock leading to rather large quantities of water passing over the top gates at times.

Source: PersonalCollection

Lock 90, Albion Mills Lock.

Also known as Blue Pass Lock

Originally the two locks here (90 and 91) were called Gaythorne Locks. For some inexplicable reason the City Council decided to spread confusion and help to get visitors lost by renaming them Deansgate Locks! They aren't of course on Deansgate and anybody searching for them on Deansgate would fail to find them as they are several hundred yards up Whitworth Street! As the area is made up of bars it is of interest to many others than boaters.

The by-wash here works.

Source: Personal Collection.

Lock 89, Tib Lock.

Called Tib Lock because the River Tib runs nearby it in a culvert.

There is a drain here used to drain the canal into the River Tib.

Some claim the river was called the Tib by homesick Roman soldiers in honour of the much larger Tiber, others point out that Tib is Gaelic for water. You decide which you prefer.

Source: Personal Collection

Source: Personal Collection

The Bridgewater Basin.

Originally a short arm giving access to the back of premises on Oxford Road and to the Manchester and Salford Junction Canal, this arm now leads nowhere.

There is a small basin by the Bridgewater Hall but there is a chain across the entrance, so no entrance for boaters.

The Bridgewater Hall was built to replace the Manchester Free Trade Hall, the home of the Halle.

The Free Trade Hall being built on the site of the Peterloo Massacre whereas the Bridgewater Hall was built on the site of Lower Moseley Street Bus station!

Buried away at the bottom of this picture is lock 88

Source: Private Collection

Lock 88, Oxford Street Lock.

Just below lock 88 there is a flight of steps going up to Oxford Street where there are several newsagents and a right turn will take you in a hundred yards or so to a branch of Sainsbury's local for those essential forgotten items like tea bags and milk.

When the Palace Theatre was extended a new by-wash was built to alleviate flooding of the theatre basement. It is rather vicious!

Source: Personal Collection

Lock 87, Princess Street Lock.

Also known as Clock Lock

At the start of the Gay Village, the heart of Manchester's club land, you will be engaged in plenty of light hearted banter and maybe even get a hand with the gates - useful if you aren't King Kong or an Olympic Athlete. You'll no doubt be bombarded with basic questions, like how much does it cost and where are you going, can I come too. There again, you may just be totally ignored on a quiet day. Neither situation will do you any harm.

Source: Personal Collection.

Lock 86, Chorlton Street Lock.

There is no longer land access to this lock, the rather difficult stone steps having been blocked off by the glass screens fitted to prevent visitors to the Gay Village from falling into the canal and inevitably drowning, a fate real enough for some to make the screens a necessity rather than a precaution. A landing pontoon has been installed at the head of the lock.

Make sure you collect all crew before leaving the area of the lock, unless you either want to get rid of them or they are very agile, or strong swimmers.

Yes, that is actually daylight on the right of the picture!

Source: Personal Collection

Lock 85, Piccadilly Lock

Originally Lead Mills Lock thenRodwell Towers Lock

Piccadilly lock is embedded in the bowels of the earth,or so it seems! It wasn't always so but in the 1960s an office block, Rodwell Towers, was built straddling the lock and environs leaving a not very welcoming dark space full of blind corners. After the running of the Rochdale Canal was taken over by British Waterways much was done to improve this section by building a straight causeway to eliminate the blind corners and dark pillars and the lighting was improved. There is also supposed to be CCTV monitoring of the area.

It can be a bit smelly at times in an area where public urinals are not common, and the inevitable drinkers who hang around most of the day can be a little intimidating though they are just as likely to help you lock through as anything worse.

This lock has no by-wash.

Dale Street 1849.

Piccadilly Lock (85) is just visible at the centre left hand edge. The 1849 plan also shows some of the rather more extensive basin than exists now.

Compare the amount of water overflowing the gates and compare with the empty pound above lock 92 taken about an hour earlier in the day.

Source: Personal Collection

A bright mid week August afternoon and not a boat to be seen in Dale Street (Piccadilly) Basin!

Source: Personal Collection

Lock 84, Dale Street Lock.

Finally you emerge from the Stygian gloom that is Piccadilly straight into Dale Street Lock and the prospect of continuing on to Rochdale and beyond or moving on to the narrow Ashton Canal.

This lock has no by-wash.

There are moorings at Piccadilly (formerly Dale Street) basin though no facilities, the nearest water and sanitation points being back where you stated at Castlefield. Being only five minutes walk from Piccadilly Gardens it is handy for the shops and for those who enjoy a beer, plenty of pubs frpm low dives to top of the market bistros!

There are no shops or other outlets at Dale Street apart from a cafe which unfortunately although in a basin side building turns its back.

Carry on up the Rochdale Canal for short distance to beyond lock 82 and on your right you will see a brand spanking new Marina with water and self service pump out along with boaters facilities including a shower block, a washing machine and of course toilets.

Dale Street Basin used to be a lot bigger but the owners found it more profitable to fill it in and use it for car parking, leaving the magnificent stone warehouse with boat holes totally land locked. Just around the corner the Ashton basin faired even worse being largely filled in for London Road (later Piccadilly) Station.

Southern Cemetery, Manchester.

Southern Cemetery

I passed Southern Cemetery on the bus yesterday and remembered how, in the past, it would fill me with a sense of gloom and despondency.

The serried ranks of the departed, the lost dreams and the lost loves all reminded me of my own mortality and my very short stay on this planet.

I would almost weep for those that I would leave behind, for those that I had loved and who loved me, perhaps even unknown to me.

Friends and strangers alike, all would touch me, from Joe who was brutally murdered, to my stillborn brother, to distant relatives known only by name and even to those totally unknown to me.

When I was younger I was totally untouched by death, if it happened at all it happened to others, even the death of relatives didn’t touch me, they were all so, so old and in a totally different place to me already that the idea of them being in a place where I would never see them again just didn’t compute.

As I grew older and became more aware of death it was still something that happened to other people and usually by their own misfortune either a drugs overdose or a motorbike crash, I was still immortal.

Even older yet and friends started to die of age related illness rather than misfortune, that might send a shiver through me and give me sleepless nights, but at a distance.

I worried about my funeral. Would friends weep or would they come out of a false sense of duty, or even worse, not come at all having other not very important things to do. I would spend endless hours planning my own wake, what tunes to sum up my misspent life, what food, where to hold it, how long it would last.

Then the horrors came, the thoughts of a long eternity of nothing, that yawning chasm, that not knowing.

Death comes to us all in strange ways, from Joe, cut off from life by a hammer blow in the dead of night, to my father who pricked himself on a rose and didn’t awake the following morning, to “auntie” Nellie who spent long months planning, labelling all her possessions with the names of those she wished to receive, to Debbie who hid her impending death from cancer from me. How will my end come?

I was going to finish by saying that I no longer care but this would have been a lie, I do care, I just realise that it doesn’t matter.

Coda.

This was quickly written after a bus journey past Southern Cemetery. After six months or so I think it stands up, may be a little polish here and there but nothing radical needs doing to it.

As time passes I fear death less and less as the things that make my life worthwhile recede into memory and things that I did with zest and excitement become more like chores, if they are still even do-able

William Seymour Holden

William Seymour Holden

"Everyone who knew him had infinite respect for his integrity".

William Holden was my great grand father. I never met him, although he lived to the ripe old age of 84 he died in 1948, the year before I was born.

He appears to have been a fairly quiet man, but a fiercely loyal one providing for several dependent women long after his death.

He was an ordinary man.

The Early Days

William was born on the 3rd of July 1864 to James Holden and Ellen Grimshaw at 83 Percival Street, Miles Platting in Manchester. He was the youngest of three sons.

He was not baptised with the name Seymour which was a later addition, handed down to his son and grandson, my father stopped the tradition in its tracks, instead giving me the middle name of Stuart to maintain the initial! Although that is not totally accepted, some claim that it was my mothers choice to commemorate her Scottish ancestry and connection to the clan Stuart. Take your pick.

In 1881 William is recorded as living at 62[?] Hulme Hall Lane, Miles Platting, a shop.

Father James was described in various census's as a labourer, an engine driver and a shop keeper. If the family myth machine is to be believed he was also an alcoholic and a wife beater, the three sons finally evicting him from the family home.

Life after school saw a brief sojourn as a message boy on the railways followed closely by a move that was going to live with him for the rest of his working life. He went to work for the Co-operative Society in Manchester.

He was a message boy in a railway yard at age 14, he was a little bandy-legged runt, but a rottweiler fighter and they called him "Cock o'th' Yard".

Eleanor Green

Herbert Holden

Family Life

In the late 1890s William married Eleanor Green - aged 26 in the accompanying photograph with only child Herbert Seymour Holden, and to the right in a later, mid 1910s photo.

After the Great War Herbert trained as a singer

At some time after 1900 William bought Fern Bank 30 Polefield Road Blackley where he lived until his death accompanied by several of his wife's sisters.

Work and Life

William steadily rose through the ranks at the Co-op, belied by the description of occupation given in census returns of Clerk. He was still describing himself as such whilst president of the Blackley Co-operative Society.

But I am getting in front of myself here. There are many years of Williams life left unrecorded but we do know that he was assistant manger of the Co-op Preserves Factory at Middleton Junction and that he was connected in some way with the Co-op laundry at Monton.

His obituary tells us that he was invited to play cricket for Lancashire, amateur I assume, and during the 1914-1918 war he was a member of the Manchester Food Committee.

Emily Green

Emily Green outside 30 Polefield Road probably in the early 1950s.

Death

After a long and seemingly eventful life William Seymour Holden finally died at Fern Bank Polefield Road on 15 December 1948.

He left an estate valued at £7314 15s 5d. a not inconsiderable sum for the time.

He was buried at the North Manchester Cemetery in the family plot.

The Obituary

December 25th 1948 (The Guardian???) P5

Death of Mr W S Holden

The death of Mr William Seymour Holden, at his home, 30 Polefield Rd Blackley at the age of 84 on Wednesday last (December 15th) marks the end of an era in the activities of the Blackley Co-operative movement. His life had been very closely bound up with many aspects of co-operation with which he was connected from a very early age.

He was known throughout North Manchester, being born in Newton Heath. His activities in Blackley go back to the turn of the last century and he spent 42 years in his house at Polefield Rd. As a young man he was a keen sportsman, but most of all he loved cricket. He was a member of the old Moston Cricket Club in the days when this club was the first of its kind in the district. He was once invited to play for the county. Rugby claimed the second place in his sporting interests. Yet sport was but one side of his varied career.

Mr Holden entered the Coop movement at an early age, while in his teens. He worked for the C.W.S. until he retired, holding various posts meanwhile; he spent years in Balloon St Manchester, at the Co-op headquarters. At one time he was assistant manager of the Preserve Works, Middleton Junction.

His first important ventures into the social side of the Co-operative movement was in 1900, when he was largely instrumental in forming the Education Committee of the Blackley Coop. Together with his friend, the late Arthur Hopkinson (who died four years ago) Mr Holden launched this new venture and was appointed first Chairman of this committee. Previously, he had taken part in discussions and had been a keen critic of the Blackley Co-op Society's activities. As chairman, he organised a series of propaganda concerts which became extremely popular and are still remembered today. He joined the board of Management of Blackley Co-op Society in 1911, being elected to president in 1914. He was the second president of the Blackley Society. He maintained this presidency until his retirement from the board in 1935.
During this time he was chairman of the united Co-op Laundries Association for a lengthy period. During the 1914-1918 war he was a member of the Manchester Food Committee.

Speaking of his activities on the Education committe, Mrs Buttle, of Grange Park Rd, Blackley, who worked with him for many years, said "He was a keen educationalist and took an interest in the education side of the movement and he was a very keen business man"

Though his life was so closely linked with the co-operative movement, Mr Holden still found time for outside interests. In the 20s he was a prospective candidate Independent for the city Council. He was unsuccessful and Alderman Williams was elected. Mr Holden was also a Mason and in 1926 was the Worshipful Master of the Acacia Lodge of Manchester. He became the [illegible] of East Lancashire.

He leaves one son, two grandsons and a great granddaughter. Two sisters also survive him. The funeral was on Saturday last, at Harpurhey Cemetery, following a service at his home. This was conducted by the Rev EJW Peddlesden, minister of the Oldham Rd congregationalist Church, with which Mr Holden was connected since birth. Several of his former Co-op colleagues attended the funeral as well as members of the congregation of the Oldham Rd church. After the interment, Councillor Clement Stott, of Blackley, who succeeded Mr Holden as president, spoke of him thus, which was an all-embracing ephitaph for an outstanding and versatile public man: "Everyone who knew him had infinite respect for his integrity".

Growing Potatoes by the No-Dig Method

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Potato

In the Beginning

When living in a caravan and felling trees came to an end we bought "Ye Olde Country Cottage". Well, it was several hundred years old in spirit, but much aged and consequentially looked about 20 years old. The cottage was not much to look at but the garden blew me away.

When we first looked at the house the seller told us he would show us the garden and set off through the neighbours garden and through an archway into the garden attached to the house. It was about six feet wide at the entrance and appeared to be about twenty feet long opening out to about fifteen feet. Not too impressive. It was planted with medium conifers, shrubs and herbaceous plants and really didn't grab me too much. but as we progressed it opened out into a large circular lawn surrounded by beds and small trees. This was much better and as I was plotting in my head I hardly registered that he was leading us to a gap in the end hedge and leading us through into a larger area, a drying ground, a large shed, greenhouse and small veg beds.

The garden was magic and though I had been reluctant to view and indeed only went because the easiest way to cancel the appointment was to drive round and arrive at the time the appointment was set for and being there may as well view.

The following morning we made an offer that was accepted.

The Garden Organic starts to Grow

We soon moved in, not much to say about the cottage beyond it being one up one down with a two storey kitchen and bathroom extension on the back. But wow, we had a brilliant garden still with lots of scope and much time was spent planning and planting. However we soon had to accept that there were too many trees and too little space to chase the dream of self sufficiency. Dreams were quickly saved when it became apparent that the local farmer would happily sell us a section of the field at the foot of the garden, In fact, for reasons known only to the farmer, he seemed reluctant to let us pay him!

After harvest I fenced off an area about 200 feet by 200 feet and that was the hardest piece of fencing I've ever done! The ground was like concrete when dry, sending even a pick axe bouncing and any water would turn it into a sticky mess that clung to tools and only reluctantly released them.

It had always been my intention to use deep beds but after taking about a month to prepare one bed about 20 feet by four feet I thought a rethink was in order. I'd read a bit about perma culture and using potato crops to use unbroken ground decided on that as best option.

I'd already been charged with the task of cutting the weeds in the adjacent churchyard two or three times a year, this involved raking the cut in to piles which I quickly made sure were along the back, as near to the garden as I could arrange so that when the field was harvested I could fairly easily drag large amounts into my garden, organic.

Potato planting time arrived and so I trampled down all the growth on the area I had decided to plant. The area was covered with a thick layer of cardboard and newspaper that we'd been saving for aeons and the boxes of chitted potatoes were brought out. With the aid of an old screwdriver and not so old hammer holes were made through the newspaper/cardboard at appropriate spacings and sprouted spuds placed over the holes.

The whole lot was covered with fresh grass clippings (we did have quite a lot of lawn) and then the cutting from the churchyard to a depth of a foot or so. .

The Garden Grows

As the growing season progressed I continued to cover the area with grass clippings and churchyard cuttings until the foliage was covering the whole patch and I was watering when ever I could. The water did worry me a touch as I thought I was probably making slug heaven but the foliage looked very healthy so I consoled myself with the thought that even if the slugs spoilt the crop the ground would benefit and the mulch would still have uses.

I hadn't ceased working in the woods at this time so most days, as my drive took me past several stables I'd arrive home with several fertilizer bags of horse muck which added to the compost heaps ensured the heaps were almost ready for use before they were built.

As I hadn't planted all the chitted potatoes I thought these might be planted in some fertilizer sacks by way of an experiment. The sacks were rolled down like socks until the walls were about 4 inches high, a layer of compost placed in the bottom and four chitted potatoes placed on top and covered with more compost. As the potato sprouts emerged from the compost, more compost was added and the bag unrolled until the bag was totally unrolled and the potato foliage was growing from the tops of the bags.

As the garden site was not level I had been using old car tyres to build retaining walls, arranged like bricks they left plenty of planting spaces, they allowed growth to hide the construction, it worked quite well! Taking an unused tyre, I half filled it with compost and planted about half a dozen tubers in the tyre and as the sprouts grew kept adding compost and tyres until the tower was about four feet tall.

Lots of information on the growth cycle of the potato

Source: http://bioweb.uwlax.edu/bio203/s2009/bradley_adam/...

Harvest Time

Eventually the time came to see if the slugs had left us some lunch so I prepared myself to check. This to my joy didn't involve digging and sifting, I just lifted the corner of the mulch like a carpet and turned it back. Shock horror, the biggest and best crop of slugs I've ever seen and with a sinking heart I picked up a spud or two. To my surprise and joy the spud was clean and white with not a spot of slug damage or any other complaint! I quickly gathered the whole crop and found not one bit of damage amongst the lot. At this distance in time I don't remember the weight of the crop but I remember, excluding ones too small to use, the yield was impressively greater than the seed used.

The crops from the fertilizer sacks and tyres were not as impressive or clean but probably worthwhile.

The soil under the major crop had changed colour from a sandy yellow to a more pleasing brown and a hand trowel went in easily for half it's length and came out clean. The remains of the mulch was turned into a heap with added horse muck and quickly formed good compost eventually used as a soil conditioner.

Newspaper Recycling

In the 1980s I worked for the National Trust as a forestry worker on a short term contract. I found the work enjoyable and fulfilling.

One of the wardens had come to the NT after many years working as a tree feller thinning coniferous plantations and twisting my mind with tales of pay that allowed him to move freely around the country and the world working.

I had to follow his example and so as soon as I could find the opportunity I set off as a tree feller.I was only slightly disappointed to find that the pay rates had changed little in the intervening 20 years and set to with a will, enjoying myself immensely and reaching unbelievable levels of fitness.

It was around this time that the big push on recycling was kicking off and I watched as pay rates dropped and gradually stands of timber became uneconomic to thin and fell into decline. Eventually the whole thing became unviable and I retired to a life in a cottage with a garden. I decided that I would make my own little stand against the damage done to forestry by recycling paper and find as many practical uses as I could. 

With that in mind here are some of the ideas I came up with.

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In the home.

There are many uses for yesterdays paper, unfortunately though as many of these include cleaning and fire-lighting, they give little long-term satisfaction. We had a wood-burning stove which was re-lit no more than two or three times a year, I even swept the flue without letting the fire out!

It was once common to use newspaper as carpet underlay, as well as for lining cupboards and drawers. I do know somebody who used newspaper as wall paper, probably a bit 197s now but still makes a good lining paper, especially on rough walls.

I was given a press for making old newsprint into logs for the fire but was not impressed. I thought it an awful lot of work for an end product that gave out not much heat for not very long and that idea soon fell out of use.

The other main use in the house was for cleaning windows and mirrors, use a slash of vinegar on the paper and bring your glass up to a bright shine and the remains of the paper can be added to the compost bin in the kitchen.

In the kitchen line the compost bin with several layers of newspaper, it'll quickly soak up the remains of the tea/coffee pot and any other wet's you include.

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In the Garden

It was really out in the garden that I found the most opportunity to divert newspaper from its true purpose which is to prevent the maintenance of woodland. It's hard to know where to start, so lets carry on with the compost bin from the kitchen. Add this to your compost heap or bin. Add shredded paper to the heap if it becomes too wet and use it to line your bin to maintain heat.

As part of my garden was new to domestic cultivation and unyielding to hand tools I grew several crops of potatoes by the no dig method using a large quantity of newspaper as an initial mulch. An excellent method that I heartily recommend.

Use them anywhere as a weed suppressing mulch, if you don't like the birds flocking to read the sports pages cover with compost.

With some deft folding use them as starter pots in the greenhouse, you can plant straight out without removing the pots as they don't last long in the open soil, apart from the tops, which not being buried, last some time and protect from slugs and other crawling pests. (You can use the centres from toilet and kitchen rolls in the same way.)

Come the winter, use them to frost proof tender plants, form windbreaks etc..

Hm, I have more ideas and will return to add them

A robust Homemade Hummus

Source: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thum...

This is a very basic recipe for hummus. I don’t include any quantities because I like to control the end result to suit myself and the occasion.

Just be aware that minor variations can make major alterations, for example I prefer chick peas that have been cooked from scratch to canned peas, I think the flavour and texture much superior but do use cans if it’s a matter of making hummus or not making hummus. Much the same applies to fork v food processor. The processor will knock a lot of time off the process but at the cost of a lot of flavour and texture.

I’m going to go through the process I prefer to use, leaving you to make life easier where you choose but I would recommend using my method at least once.

Right, to start you will need

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Ingredients

• Chick Peas, Ideally dried fresh but at a pinch use tinned
• Tahini (light is preferable)
• Olive Oil
• Lemon Juice
• Paprika
• Fresh Coriander Leaves, For Decoration
• Salt

Few utensils are needed and will all be to hand in a reasonably well equipped kitchen

A pan large enough to cook the peas with plenty of spare room, a pressure cooker is good

A slotted spoon

A large mixing bowl

A sturdy fork that will not bend easily

And that’s about it!

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Cook the chick peas until they are tender but still with a bit of crunch to them. Pick over for any discoloured or any other reason you don’t want to eat. Don’t bother to drain, you’ll use some of that liquid.

Crush the garlic and add to mixing bowl.

Add a couple of spoonfuls and crush to a rough paste, continue adding peas and crushing adding a splash of the cooking liquid if the paste gets too dry. When all the peas are crushed to your satisfaction add the tahini tasting until you are happy with the balance. 

Do the same with the olive oil, lemon and paprika.

Mix until you are happy the ingredients are mixed to your taste, you can still add more of everything if needed, but you can’t really take anything away.

At this stage you can just put the lot in a plastic container in the fridge for use, but if you have grander designs on it, add to a decorative serving bowl. Level the top off with a fork making decorative patterns.

Decorate the swirls with paprika and over all that drizzle some olive oil and finish off with sprays of fresh coriander. Stand back and admire, you made that and doesn’t it look good!

Tales of an Aging Vegetarian

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It’s well over 25 years now since I gave up eating meat. It was hardly a conscious decision as my meat consumption had dropped to about one main meal a week that was meat based and probably a couple of meat based snacks and rather than having a big memorable cut off day it was more of a realisation that I had not eaten meat for several weeks and a resolve to maintain that position.

Considering that I had gone from such a very small amount of meat to no meat at all I expected to feel little or no affect from it but to my surprise noticed an almost instant increase in my energy levels, my stamina and speed.

At the time I was working in forestry and a lad in his early 20s spent the beginning of his first day sharing his opinion that veggies were wimps and unless, like him, they eat meat at least twice daily, played two football matches a weekend and attended the gym several times a week they could never hope to be as fit and strong as he was.

His face showed a mixture of relief and contempt when I told him that as I was about ten years older than him, didn’t play football and had no idea where my nearest Gym was and a veggie to boot he’d better come and work with me.

Two hours later he was begging for a break and didn’t look too pleased when I reminded him of his need to eat meat.

By the way, it wasn’t heavy forestry, just clearing scrub and general tidying.

I did find one major downside though. I was single at the time and it severally restricted my dating. Some people carry the smell of their last meal quite strongly and though I have no problem sharing a table with somebody eating meat (unless it’s kidney, in which case I wish they wouldn’t) some people smell strongly of meat to the point where it is no more pleasant than being in the company of a sweaty person long overdue for a bath. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting it’s a hygiene problem, in fact I think a long hot soak makes it worse as that opens the pores but it certainly narrows the choices.

These days it is so easy not to eat meat and there is so much choice available, to the extent where confirmed meat eaters will often prefer the veggie option (flash of anger there, went to a wedding and the handful of veggies were well catered for at the reception. The meat eaters fell on the veggie food like locusts and wiped the plates clean before the veggies could get much more than a look in. when those plates were clear the meat options were then started on) it’s hard to imagine that in the early 1980s the only veggie option available when you ate out was what the meat eaters were having, but don’t serve the meat, OK?

Things like a meal out in a pub with friends was always overshadowed by the worry that they might not serve anything you’d eat, not even an omelette. There were flashes of elation though when your enquiry for the veggie option was met with a negative but then you found yourself being quizzed “do you eat pasta, do you like so and so, what about so and so” and eventually a recipe was agreed on, you end up with an enjoyable meal and a bill that shows your custom made meal was cheaper than any thing else on the menu.

Gradually over the years the eating places that didn’t have an acceptable veggie dish or three on the menu became the exception rather than the rule and greengrocers who would at one time have ordered you out of the shop if you’d dared to ask for a courgette or a pepper were suddenly offering strange and exotic vegetables and worse than that, knowing more about them than you did.

Being a veggie does reveal some people’s weak grasp on biology, after about ten years, my mother who also claimed to be a veggie, served up roast chicken forlunch one visit. To our protests that she couldn’t have forgotten, she insisted she hadn’t but chicken was alright for vegetarians wasn’t it?

My father thought it was great joke when we ate out to try and trick us, we’d usually try to steer him to places that knew us and would tell him in no uncertain terms that the vegetable soup was made with chicken stock and there was no way he was going to be allowed to order it for us. He would all ways be asking if we weren’t bored with the lack of choice! This from a man who’d had bacon and egg for virtually every breakfast since the end of WWII, sausage nearly every Sunday tea, roast beef , lamb or chicken most Sunday lunch and no more than seven or eight varieties for the rest of the week! Most of our cooking was on the hoof, (!) no set recipes and even if an attempt was made to replicate a recipe there would be enough variety in it for it not to be too much like the last time.

Big question, do I ever miss meat? I think the answer is very rarely, though I used to enjoy bacon butties, the item supposed to break most veggies, I’ve never been tempted. I occasionally miss sausages but some of the meat-free possibilities take care of that. The need for something to get my teeth into is satisfied by grilled or fried tofu.

My last awful confession, I’m single again and housework is not high on my list of priorities, housework is done because it needs doing not because it’s an everyday task taking priority over everything else. The remains of a veggie meal left for several days is far less unpleasant than the remains of a meat dish left for the same time. My grill pan never needs much more than a wipe and, well you get the idea.