Saturday, 14 February 2009
xxx-mouth Market
Valentine's Day in Exmouth Market. Someone has turned the former premises of hairdresser The Klinik into a wall of Valentine's greetings. Write a message and make a donation in aid of Great Ormond Street Hospital.
Monday, 2 February 2009
'Snow event' in Clerkenwell
What the BBC mystifyingly termed today's 'snow event' has made Clerkenwell a strange, beautiful place.
Lapped in blankets of white, and lit by an eerie lilac light, it looked more like Moscow than EC1.
Every shop bar the hairdresser's was closed on Exmouth Market; The Crown was bursting at the seams all afternoon; people discovered their inner Anthony Gormley; and strangers were seen to smile at each other.
Heck. More snow, please.
Lapped in blankets of white, and lit by an eerie lilac light, it looked more like Moscow than EC1.
Every shop bar the hairdresser's was closed on Exmouth Market; The Crown was bursting at the seams all afternoon; people discovered their inner Anthony Gormley; and strangers were seen to smile at each other.
Heck. More snow, please.
Sunday, 1 February 2009
Send in the clowns
Big shoes and squirty buttonholes on, please: today is Clown Sunday.
It's no joke (or maybe it is, depending on whether you think clowns are funny). The first Sunday in February is marked each year with a gathering of clowns - in full costume and make-up - from all over the UK for a service in Holy Trinity Church, Dalston. It's hard to imagine what this service involves - members of the congregation being tripped up in the aisles, the collection being taken by someone in a Noddy car with hooter?
Anyway, it all comes back to Clerkenwell. Joseph Grimaldi was the son of Italian dance master Giuseppi. At the age of three, Joey debuted at Sadlers Wells and spent the next 45 years as performer and part owner of the theatre. He defined clowning, including the white make-up, bright clothes and pointy hats, and gave a common name to the clown: Joey.
He also helped give rise to the notion of the sad clown. Personal tragedy - losing his first wife very young, and ill health brought on by years of falling over - left him in a sorry state. (Query: are there health and safety rules for modern clowns?) Unable to work in later life, he had to rely on a pension from Drury Lane. Grimaldi spent his last years propping up the fireplace in the Marquis of Cornwallis pub in Pentonville. A kindly landlord would carry him home every night on his back.
Grimaldi lived at 56, Exmouth Market between 1818 and 1828. A blue plaque marks the spot. He died in 1837 at 33 Southampton Street (now Calshot Street) and is buried in Joseph Grimaldi Park, on Pentonville Road, while his wife Mary is buried in St. James's Church on Clerkenwell Green.
RIP sad clown.
It's no joke (or maybe it is, depending on whether you think clowns are funny). The first Sunday in February is marked each year with a gathering of clowns - in full costume and make-up - from all over the UK for a service in Holy Trinity Church, Dalston. It's hard to imagine what this service involves - members of the congregation being tripped up in the aisles, the collection being taken by someone in a Noddy car with hooter?
Anyway, it all comes back to Clerkenwell. Joseph Grimaldi was the son of Italian dance master Giuseppi. At the age of three, Joey debuted at Sadlers Wells and spent the next 45 years as performer and part owner of the theatre. He defined clowning, including the white make-up, bright clothes and pointy hats, and gave a common name to the clown: Joey.
He also helped give rise to the notion of the sad clown. Personal tragedy - losing his first wife very young, and ill health brought on by years of falling over - left him in a sorry state. (Query: are there health and safety rules for modern clowns?) Unable to work in later life, he had to rely on a pension from Drury Lane. Grimaldi spent his last years propping up the fireplace in the Marquis of Cornwallis pub in Pentonville. A kindly landlord would carry him home every night on his back.
Grimaldi lived at 56, Exmouth Market between 1818 and 1828. A blue plaque marks the spot. He died in 1837 at 33 Southampton Street (now Calshot Street) and is buried in Joseph Grimaldi Park, on Pentonville Road, while his wife Mary is buried in St. James's Church on Clerkenwell Green.
RIP sad clown.
Saturday, 17 January 2009
The House of Harella
Working in 'new' media, it's rather handy to be living in an area with a high number of digital agencies. Even though I work in the wasteland of Canary Wharf, meetings with suppliers often take me back to Clerkenwell. And, of course, I always try to schedule those encounters last thing in the afternoon - so it's just a short stroll home.
Yesterday took me to an agency based in Harella House on Goswell Road, a building which used to be a clothing factory. The lovely folks at website design and usability agency Flow Interactive have done a great job of turning their offices into a light, bright open-plan working space, replete with user testing laboratories, and the obligatory agency table football. Their building's former history hasn't been neglected either. Proudly occupying a space on the wall is a 1950s pink suit bought on E-bay, nicely framed, made by the former occupier of the building: Harella.
The name Harella has slipped into obscurity, but it was once a well-known British clothing manufacturer. A little Google searching surfaced a few facts. The company was founded in 1919 by tailor's apprentice Lew Harris, and grew to have operations in Halifax and Birkenhead as well as London.
It developed into the second largest exporter in the UK fashion industry, with its own distinctive house style. In 1963, the company was taken over by the enormous Selincourt Group in a deal said to be worth more than £3 million. Then in 1979, Harella was taken over by the Barnsley-based firm S. R. Gent & Company Ltd, and seems to have fallen into obscurity, as cheap high-street fashion took over.
The fact that almost no one under 40 has now heard of Harella says a lot about the toughness of industry as we enter what the BBC is still calling 'the economic downturn' but will shortly be rebranded as 'recession'.
For Harella, read Viyella and numerous other once-strong British household names destined to fall into obscurity.
Yesterday took me to an agency based in Harella House on Goswell Road, a building which used to be a clothing factory. The lovely folks at website design and usability agency Flow Interactive have done a great job of turning their offices into a light, bright open-plan working space, replete with user testing laboratories, and the obligatory agency table football. Their building's former history hasn't been neglected either. Proudly occupying a space on the wall is a 1950s pink suit bought on E-bay, nicely framed, made by the former occupier of the building: Harella.
The name Harella has slipped into obscurity, but it was once a well-known British clothing manufacturer. A little Google searching surfaced a few facts. The company was founded in 1919 by tailor's apprentice Lew Harris, and grew to have operations in Halifax and Birkenhead as well as London.
It developed into the second largest exporter in the UK fashion industry, with its own distinctive house style. In 1963, the company was taken over by the enormous Selincourt Group in a deal said to be worth more than £3 million. Then in 1979, Harella was taken over by the Barnsley-based firm S. R. Gent & Company Ltd, and seems to have fallen into obscurity, as cheap high-street fashion took over.
The fact that almost no one under 40 has now heard of Harella says a lot about the toughness of industry as we enter what the BBC is still calling 'the economic downturn' but will shortly be rebranded as 'recession'.
For Harella, read Viyella and numerous other once-strong British household names destined to fall into obscurity.
Sunday, 2 November 2008
The Modern Pantry
One of the staggering things about Clerkenwell is that you're always a stomach rumble's distance from eating well. Doesn't have to be a big name like Moro or St John - the unfancy Bavarian sausage house 'Kurz und Lang' by Smithfield Market is as fine a spot as any if you're in the mood.
The latest newcomer to Gastronome's Corner is The Modern Pantry, housed in a pair of Georgian buildings on the lovely St. John's Square, opposite the bright lights of the Zetter. One of the buildings used to be a steel foundry; now they're both slicked up in steel grey paint and look prim and proper.
It's pitched as more than a restaurant - pah, anyone can open one of those. This is an all-round lifestyle destination. Open seven days a week from breakfast time onwards, there's a cafe downstairs, plus a shop selling items from the restaurant kitchens for punters to take the Modern Pantry experience home with them, from pastries to full pre-prepared meals. Upstairs is the restaurant proper, though it's not clear how or if the food differs from the cafe.
The chef-owner is New Zealander Anna Hansen, formerly of The Providores, the acclaimed fusion restaurant in Marylebone High Street. So you'd expect the cooking to be good, and it is.
The menu changes regularly, with a line-up of far-flung ingredients - from Manouri bruschetta to Maury jelly, whatever they may be. As my dining preference is several smaller portions rather than one large one, I like the 'small plate' option. The chorizo, date and feta fritters, served with tamarind yoghurt, are particularly good. And I especially love the ice cream, which is inexpensive (£1.50 a scoop) and delicious - sate your sweet tooth on the hokey pokey flavour. Plus, the wine list is strong, and as international as the food, with excellent manzanilla.
But there's something about the place which doesn't spark a passion - I've eaten there twice, but neither occasion made me want to linger. AA Gill was particularly withering in his review for The Times, and the ever-excellent Marina O'Loughlin had similar reservations in the Metro.
I think they have a point: The Modern Pantry is matt and grey at a time when people's fancies have changed to homey and comforting in the kitchen, as in much else. Given the huge number of options around Clerkenwell, does this one have enough to make it a favourite and fill that large space from eight in the morning to late at night? I'm not sure.
The latest newcomer to Gastronome's Corner is The Modern Pantry, housed in a pair of Georgian buildings on the lovely St. John's Square, opposite the bright lights of the Zetter. One of the buildings used to be a steel foundry; now they're both slicked up in steel grey paint and look prim and proper.
It's pitched as more than a restaurant - pah, anyone can open one of those. This is an all-round lifestyle destination. Open seven days a week from breakfast time onwards, there's a cafe downstairs, plus a shop selling items from the restaurant kitchens for punters to take the Modern Pantry experience home with them, from pastries to full pre-prepared meals. Upstairs is the restaurant proper, though it's not clear how or if the food differs from the cafe.
The chef-owner is New Zealander Anna Hansen, formerly of The Providores, the acclaimed fusion restaurant in Marylebone High Street. So you'd expect the cooking to be good, and it is.
The menu changes regularly, with a line-up of far-flung ingredients - from Manouri bruschetta to Maury jelly, whatever they may be. As my dining preference is several smaller portions rather than one large one, I like the 'small plate' option. The chorizo, date and feta fritters, served with tamarind yoghurt, are particularly good. And I especially love the ice cream, which is inexpensive (£1.50 a scoop) and delicious - sate your sweet tooth on the hokey pokey flavour. Plus, the wine list is strong, and as international as the food, with excellent manzanilla.
But there's something about the place which doesn't spark a passion - I've eaten there twice, but neither occasion made me want to linger. AA Gill was particularly withering in his review for The Times, and the ever-excellent Marina O'Loughlin had similar reservations in the Metro.
I think they have a point: The Modern Pantry is matt and grey at a time when people's fancies have changed to homey and comforting in the kitchen, as in much else. Given the huge number of options around Clerkenwell, does this one have enough to make it a favourite and fill that large space from eight in the morning to late at night? I'm not sure.
Sunday, 22 June 2008
Sunday, 18 May 2008
Vinoteca
Last night I visited one of my favourite haunts. Unfortunately, it seems to be everyone else's too - that's why we waited 50 minutes before being assigned a table.
Vinoteca - at the Smithfield end of on St John Street - has become one of the area's best-loved destinations: bar, wine shop and restaurant. Modelled on the vinotecas and enotecas of Spain and Italy, it has an impressive stock of wines - and, even better, a passionate, knowledgeable staff to tell you about them.
It also runs an impressive kitchen serving up a limited but excellent selection of food. There's a Mediterranean influence but you're as likely to find traditionally English ingredients in there, with ham hock, pigeon, beetroot, horse radish and Gressingham duck breast alongside Serrano ham and olives. Tapas or racion sized portions are the future as far as I'm concerned, and I rarely opt for the main courses, preferring one or two of the smaller plates - less chance of getting bored - and of course it leaves room for something sweet afterwards (very important).
Vinoteca - at the Smithfield end of on St John Street - has become one of the area's best-loved destinations: bar, wine shop and restaurant. Modelled on the vinotecas and enotecas of Spain and Italy, it has an impressive stock of wines - and, even better, a passionate, knowledgeable staff to tell you about them.
It also runs an impressive kitchen serving up a limited but excellent selection of food. There's a Mediterranean influence but you're as likely to find traditionally English ingredients in there, with ham hock, pigeon, beetroot, horse radish and Gressingham duck breast alongside Serrano ham and olives. Tapas or racion sized portions are the future as far as I'm concerned, and I rarely opt for the main courses, preferring one or two of the smaller plates - less chance of getting bored - and of course it leaves room for something sweet afterwards (very important).
Vinoteca also runs a series of winemaker dinners, presided over by wine growers and makers, plus their bi-annual wine tastings - heady afternoons in which over 50 wines from their portfolio are available to taste between the hours of midday and 4pm. The next one is the Winter Portfolio Tasting.
As you can tell, Clerkenwell Dweller likes Vinoteca - a lot. So much so that she even features on the website.
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