Travel

A weekend in Malmö

12th May 2019 by Regula 10 Comments

**In payed collaboration with Malmö town.

The city of Malmö kindly invited my husband and me to come and explore the town for 2,5 days. I had visited before because I have friends in town who persuaded me to come over to Parabere Forum, a conference for women in gastronomy whose aim it is to fight for gender equality, that is if you get in because although I was invited to join the conference as press last year, this year suddenly my application to join – yes you’re reading this well, you have to apply to be allowed to pay to come to this conference – was turned down… so far for equality.

Back to Malmö a town where equality is also important, yet it is less about gender and more about general equality which I think is incredibly important as a first step. Malmö used to have a bad reputation, it stood in the shadow of bright and buzzing Copenhagen which is only 30 minutes across the Øresund bridge – known from the tv series – from Malmö. I’ve visited Copenhagen just for one day but can firmly say I prefer Malmö because it is smaller and more quaint.

You arrive in Malmö by the train station and walk across the river with the majestic Savoy hotel towering over you. A small street takes you to one of the most beautiful large town squares of Malmö. The first thing I notice is the cool advertising on the side of the building of an old apothecary, a well restored ghost sign you’ll see a couple more of around town. Malmö is calm, there aren’t many cars and the locals are incredibly chill and friendly. I think you would have a hard time upsetting a Malmonian….

Ghent, the rock ‘n’ roll alternative to Bruges in Belgium

3rd August 2018 by Regula 15 Comments

Nearly everyone I know abroad who visited Belgium tells me they only went to Bruges… Such a shame! I usually exclaim because Ghent is just as beautiful! Don’t get me wrong, I love Bruges but Ghent is Bruges rock’n’roll sister, the badass of the family, full of subcultures, underground music scenes and home to ‘Vooruit’ one of the most incredible music halls located in an old socialist arts centre – the place where I saw my first show at 16. On top of that, Ghent has all Bruges has to offer architecture-wise minus the annoying hordes of tourists and unimaginative souvenirs shops selling lace from anywhere but Flanders.

Ghent is constantly reinventing itself, people are friendly and the atmosphere is relaxed. You can have a good glass of Belgian beer on nearly every street corner but the last few years exciting new places have been opening all over the town. Ghent has been reputed being the vegetarian capital of Europe and that is something I had to be told by a friend who is vegan and visited Ghent a few months ago.

Ghent has been our nearest town for the last 12 years and with our move a few months ago we hardly ever visited because life has just been to busy and we no longer live a 20 minute drive away. But I find I look at Ghent with different eyes now when we do manage to carve out some time to travel there. We no longer pop over for lunch at our favourite Italian (Trattoria Della Mamma), but venture further into the city to try other things, stay longer to have dessert or afternoon tea (Huset), or an ice cold glass of Belgian style.

If shopping is what you are after, Ghent has it all. You have your highstreet chains in de Veldstraat but if small independent shops is your thing – it sure is for me – you have an array of little shops dotted around town.…

Latvian Rye Trifle and a visit to Riga

8th December 2017 by Regula 16 Comments

In februari last year I went on a backpacking trip to Latvia, I was doing some research for one of my projects and with it met up with a woman I had met at the Oxford Symposium.

One of the most memorable things I ate while in Latvia was a Rye bread trifle with cranberries on lingonberries they call ‘Rupjmaizes kārtojums’. It is made by grating the iconic sweet Rye bread and lightly frying the crumbs then layering it with cream and curd cheese and the tart red cranberries they use so often in their cuisine. It was offered to me by the host in ‘Zaku Krogs’ a most wonderful Jamaica Inn-like ex-rabbit hunters Inn in Jurkalne which is about an 2,5 hour drive from Riga. The drive there takes you through forests which are laden with berry shrubs and strange small villages with Soviet-style blocks of flats.

On our way to Jurkalne we visited Ildze’s friend who works in the office of a sprat canning factory where all the people from the surrounding villages work. It was a unique insight to how this works, the sprats are delivered daily and extremely fresh and processed that same day. Processing means they are sorted by size and arranged on hooks by a group of women, then they are smoked – no artificial dye here – and then another group of women sorts the sprats neatly in their tins like braided hair. Then the sprats get a generous blob of salt on them, rapeseed oil and the tins are closed and finally pasteurised….

It all starts with fire. How Pure Food Camp in Sweden opened up my eyes to nature

3rd October 2017 by Regula 8 Comments

I didn’t really know what to expect when I stepped on a plane with final destination Sweden in what was possibly one of the most dreadful moments of my life. My heart was pounding in my throat because I just left my gravely ill and much beloved 15 year old cat in the very loving hands of my husband. I sat on the Copenhagen station platform waiting for a train to Malmo in Sweden, I felt utterly alone and I just wanted to be home.

But suddenly I looked up and there I saw the wonderful smile of Sarah from Vienna. Like me she had a huge backpack, accompanied by a small one, dressed in outdoorsy clothing but in a far better mood than I was. Excited she asked if I was traveling to the food camp and we started talking, trying to figure out delayed and cancelled trains and word by word I was letting go of the overpowering sadness and worry.

We boarded a train and then a taxi which brought us to a beech forest in Skane. We were greeted by Lotta Ranert, creator of Pure Food Camp and one of the two women who brought us all together here and Camilla, the owner. There was cheese to welcome us, cheese made by Cecilia Timner, 20 footsteps from where we were standing, made with the milk of the pale creamy fudge-coloured cows we heard mooing in the distance.

Nothing happens in my brain here before I have made sure we have this fire and it’s going and we can make food and tea.

The camp existed out of a couple of yurts and a big mother-yurt which was the heart of the site. In the centre of that yurt was a warming wood fired stove with water boiler that created a spectacular display of steam, there were pots, pans, crockery and a couple of essentials. Each of our own yurts had a sweet little blue door, painted with illustrations. Two little beds with a duvet and woolly blanket in each yurt, a water container, oil lamps, matches, a kerosene fire and a bowl to hold water to wash ourselves. It was a simple set up but yet it felt like luxury.
Our outdoor loo was of the glamorous sort with a see through roof, wooden walls and an actual toilet seat. Much more than I was expecting but very welcome indeed on moments when going behind a big tree wasn’t an option.

After talking us through how to tend to the oil lamps and kerosene fire, loo and a few other practicalities we were expected up a gentle hill where a large table was set with vintage teacups and plates ready for “Fika”. Fika can be compared to a simple afternoon tea yet less formal and it can happen several times a day. One of the Swedes told us in many Swedish companies Fika is even a big thing, Fika is serious business and should not be skipped.

The kanelbullar (cinnamon swirl buns, see my recipe here), almondbullar and chocolatabullar (balls made of butter, cacao and oats) were passed around the table laughing as if we were at day 5 not hour 2 into the camp week. Tea and coffee came from tall sturdy steel teapots who hung from the smoking open fires. It was supposed to be raining I remembered, but instead here we were, outside, drinking hot drinks and eating all kinds of bullar while secretly gazing around us, taking in the details of the forest, savouring this unique moment in our lives.

The sun was lowering on the sky and Camilla, the owner of the Nyrups Naturhotel that was our yurt camp introduced us to the menu of the dinner we would be cooking on the fires. Two vegetable starters, a main and a pudding, each in a basket, just the ingredients and the suggestion of what to do with them. Sarah from Vienna and I teamed up and went for the main. In our basket we found locally caught perch, potatoes, cavollo nero, a selection of forest mushrooms and a couple of carrots. Sarah did potatoes and pickled carrots while I fried the cavollo nero and the mushrooms in plenty of butter and a touch of fire in a pan I’d love to call my own. When it was time for the fish I thought of a recipe I learned to make a week before by a friend in England, cooked in clay, straight onto the embers. Lacking clay we used every bit of newspaper we could find – although it was meant for starting fires – rubbed the fish with lemony wood sorrel we quickly foraged in the last evening light, a bit of thyme, juniper berries and a healthy doze of pepper, salt and a good knob of butter or two. The fish we wrapped in baking parchment because we did not have a large leaf at hand, then we wrapped each parcel in the soaking wet newspaper. Everyone went in to start dinner while a couple of us stayed behind to cover all the open fires with pans of fish parcels.

By the time we had finished our starters: cauliflower, bacon and potato by Gabriella from Spain, Emily from England and Helen from Germany and beetroot & Swedish halloumi by Kerstin also from England we gathered the parcels and removed the now charred newspaper. The perch was to my great amusement perfectly done, not too far, pearly white and very moist. Everyone got a parcel and as a side the kale and mushrooms I had fried on the fire earlier, parts of the kale slightly crisp because fire tends to lick the inside of your pan. Fire adds a seasoning you can’t recreate, because it’s also the smoke in your eyes, the heat on your hands and arms that add to the taste of cooking food in the wild.The wood sorrel is definitely a new favourite leaf to use, I wonder if I can make it grow in my wild garden at home… Fair haired Titti Qvarnström – our other host and the first female head chef in Sweden to receive a Michelin star – was sitting next to me at dinner and she approved of the fish so that’s good enough for me!

Pudding was just that, a delightful cake skilfully baked in a tin on the open fire by former UK Masterchef winner Keri. The darker bits were the best, we had seconds, drowned in a custard she made from scratch and on a temperamental fire, no mean feat.
By now I bless myself and the stars to be here. This is already an unforgettable trip and were only just started our journey. I realise however that we are all so out of touch with nature. When you have no electricity things become simple and difficult at the same time.

Image by Torbjorn Lagerwall edited

After this feast accompanied by excellent local Swedish wine and beer the last ones standing toast with a traditional herb liqueur Sarah kindly brought us from Austria. Then it suddenly it hits me when I go outside to find a big tree… it’s incredibly dark. Kerstin comes with me because I am a wimp. We head back to our yurts, armed with all the oil lamps we can find because I managed to scare the group with my own fears about zombies in the forest. We all have a laugh but secretly hold to that lamp with a passion.
First night in a yurth, in the middle of the woods, with someone we only just met a few hours ago… My yurt-mate Keri and I decided to keep the oil lamp on while we try to sleep… we can’t face the complete darkness just yet.

The next morning my insomniac self awaited dawn eager to cook breakfast on the fires. I looked out of our yurt, the sky is red, beautiful. I decide a simple bun in my hair instead of my intricate hairdos and no make-up are in order, because we don’t have a mirror, and we’re in the middle of a forest, who cares! I do, but still I go with the bun.

…

Borough Market – not just a food market

13th June 2017 by Regula 1 Comment

I’ve been planning to write about Borough Market for a very long time, the draft has been in my folder waiting for the right moment, and now the time couldn’t be more poignant. After last weeks terrible events where the market was the victim of a senseless attack I knew I had to write this. Now over a week later, the market is finally opening again and now more than ever the market traders and surrounding restaurants and bars need your support.

Most of the traders are very small often family owned businesses. Loosing a week of custom, and getting over the fact that this beautiful multicultural market was soiled with violence is tough. We all know the way forward it to ‘keep calm and carry on’ so please if you are in London, take the tube to London Bridge Station and do your shopping at Borough Market. Meet there for lunch or dinner or after-work-drinks. It’s safe, probably safer than it has ever been. But mostly, it is a statement, that we will not let terrorism dictate our lives.

On my first ever visit to Borough Market 7 years ago, I never thought that today I would be working for them and writing for their mag and website. Now nearly two years ago I became a photographer for the Borough Market magazine called ‘Market Life’. It is beautifully produced and jam-packed with interesting content. Stories about the market traders and their lives, the produce, the provenance and the events at the market which have become plentiful over the years. There are panel talks, tastings, cookery demonstrations and there even is a Cookbook Club. It is such a community. I’ve worked with many of the market traders, sourcing produce for shoots, they’ve been generous with advise and for some shoots they’ve even been on hand to help me. That is why I was especially shaken by the sadness that happened last week. My first thoughts were with the traders and the people who work tirelessly behind the scenes in the Borough Market office. The people I love to work with.

Borough Market is life, it is hope. It is a place where gender, sexual orientation, colour, religion or political preference doesn’t matter. It’s food, only food. That what keeps us alive, that what we live for, that what brings people together. The market sent out a statement and I want to share with you:

Now more than ever, we need to remind ourselves that what we do here matters. A food market has nothing to do with hate. A food market is about sustenance and wellbeing, pleasure and sharing, companionship and family. That’s why it’s important.

This post was supposed to be about the history of Borough Market, but for now, it is about the present and the future……

Three Acres Creative Gathering – New dates and a Recap

26th January 2017 by Regula Leave a Comment

New Dates april 20-23 2017

In october my friends Giulia and Sarka and I hosted our first Three Acres Creative Gathering. An event born out of our own habit of meeting up several times a year to cook, eat, drink together, laugh and inspire each other. We each live in different countries so gatherings are always planned ahead. This made us think…

On a crisp and unusually sunny first of januari Giulia and I sat by the fire in her Tuscan family home, sipping fennel tea and talking about creativity. We wondered if we could create an event to include others in our usually quite private meet-ups. And so on our next get-together – in London this time – Sarka and Giulia and I decided to make it happen. A creative gathering in the rolling Sienese countryside, catching the very end of summer as a preparation for the cold and dark months ahead.

Our guests came not only from Italy but also from The Netherlands, Ecuador and the USA. A diverse bunch of women, all creative and eager to spend a few days with other creative people. We visited an organic sheep cheese farm situated in a rough rural landscape with the most exquisite view. We tasted the different cheeses with the farms thick fig compote made from their own precious few figs and slices of new season pears in an unusually warm autumn sun outside. The red wine served from a large glass carafe into lemonade glasses tasted like a rich grape juice, we all knew that back home it was already winter and savoured every moment.

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Prague – Reliving my early childhood travels

11th January 2017 by Regula 12 Comments

In the late 1980’s when I was just a little girl, my parents and I traveled around Hungary and Czechoslovakia just like so many other Belgians did during that time. It was affordable, it was different and there were Balkan travel clubs with meetings where you could get your information much like we get it from Google today. We had the ‘Balkan Club’ bumper sticker and from time to time would bump into people on the road with the same sticker stuck to their car. Travel advise was then exchanged and we would part saying we might meet each other on one of the Balkan Club slideshow evenings. This was pre-internet socializing, using the sticker meant you were from the same group, it opened the door to a conversation….

The Pig near Bath

9th February 2016 by Regula 3 Comments

I arrived at the mansion that is the home of The Pig near Bath after a long november day. It was dark, rainy and my feet were stiff and cold from being in my red wellies for over 8 hours.

Stepping through the door at this house full of history and historical artefacts you will be slightly overwhelmed by the grandness which feels slightly out of place in this modern throw-away society. But modern it is, none the less. Although the manor looks like it has been frozen in time since the Georgean era, it was not long ago a derelict and forgotten place. The kitchen garden was no more than a gardeners nightmare but the house and its garden had been in the back of someone’s head for a long while: the current owner who opened it up once again as a hotel, naming it after my most cherished animal: the pig.

The home of The Pig is Hunstrete House and has been a hotel for many years. At one time it was managed by a husband and wife team, he did the cooking and she was the front of house. But after that it went from one owner to the next eventually falling in disrepair.

It took some love and effort to turn the house around, and the head gardner told me the kitchen garden it took 5 months of weeding before it was even possible to sow. But in march 2013 they were ready to open, and surprisingly it looks like it has been here like this for hundreds of years without having changed at all. The Pig’s philosophy evolves around the kitchen garden and a 25 mile menu. This means that all the food is either home grown, or sourced in a radius of 25 miles. The beer and cider as well, presenting a nice selection to have fun with pairing with your food. For me personally this is important as I do prefer a decent beer or cider with my food. I like to play with the flavours and it also feels so much less formal and heavy than wine. But I’m Belgian so I might be a bit biaised when it comes to beer!

I’m checked in and taken back outside along the corridor which is filled with colourful wellies, around the stately home to my room. It is pitch black, and I’m tired because I have been travelling from North Devon and had an early start that morning. The door to my room is opened and I realise I have my own little log cabin, complete with log burner, comfy chairs and a large bed with a lot of pillows. I throw myself onto the bed, legs and arms spread, it feels as if I’m being caught in the air by a fluffy cloud. Ah bliss…

Every once and a while you need that weekend away, a few days of hanging around reading books, gazing out of the window in the morning when the fog is still embracing the landscape and knowing that you are not going to do anything of much worldly importance that day. An indulging slow breakfast with more views over countryside, to see it awake and change color. Everything that bothers you in daily life becomes muted and trivial, relax mode takes over. I did a lot of writing for my book in this cosy log cabin too.

I could stay in there for a week, waking up early, having walks before breakfast on the estate watching the deer, the pigs, the chickens and then books, reading plenty of books….

A winter visit to Bath

15th December 2015 by Regula 5 Comments

It was a crisp winters day when we took the train from London Paddington to Bath on an early februari morning.

Bath must be one of my all time favourite cities to go to in England, the Somerset town is small enough so you don’t have the hassle of having to work out buss and underground systems and large enough to spend the day walking and taking in the gorgeous sights. The city has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage site, something that won’t surprise you when you arrive.

Bath is named as such because it is and has been a spa town since Roman times and possibly even before that. The Roman Baths are still one of the city’s largest attractions and they are well worth a visit. When we visited on a gorgeous winter morning in february, we were alone for most of our visit which was quite magical. After the Roman empire fell in the first decade of the 5th century, the Roman baths fell into disrepair and were slowly lost. The entire structure above the level of the pillar bases which you can see today is a later construction. The hot water spring is now housed in 18th-century buildings, designed by architects John Wood, the Elder and John Wood, the Younger.
Visitors in Georgian England drank the waters in the Grand Pump Room, which is still accessible from the Baths and is a good way to end your visit with tea and cake – rather than water. With the opening of Thermae Bath Spa in 2006, Bath has become the only town or city in the United Kingdom where you can bathe in naturally heated spring water. With it Bath is reclaiming it’s historical heritage.

The city is primarily built in Georgian architecture crafted from light golden Bath stone and is well known for its terrace structures. The most spectacular of Bath’s terraces, the Royal Crescent, was built around 1767 and designed by the younger aforenamed John Wood. Walking around these streets, especially when the beams of sunlight are kissing the stone buildings and colouring them golden is a very nice way to spend an afternoon. I am not surprised that Bath has such an uplifting and positive feel to it, every time I arrive, I just want to stay.
Jane Austen lived in Bath in the early 19th century and you can visit the Jane Austen Centre on one of the larger impressive lanes. Go to the gift shop if you need an I love Mr. Darcy tote bag or mug in your life. My favourite view is looking up the hill towards Pulteney Bridge from the banks of the River Avon. The bridge is one of only four in the whole world to have shops built across its full span on both sides and was completed in 1774.

Another place I like to go to – especially for its cellar again – is one of the oldest buildings in Bath called Sally Lunn’s in the formerly Lilliput Alley. This is an eating house which houses the historical kitchen in which the recipe for the Sally Lunn bun was recovered in the 1930’s. Legend goes that Sally Lunn created the first Bath bun – naming it the Sally Lunn all the way back in the 17th century. The Sally Lunn Eating House claims that the recipe was brought to Bath in the 1680s by a Huguenot refugee called Solange Luyon, who became known as Sally Lunn. Another theory is that Sally Lunn is the anglicisation of ‘Sol et lune’ which is French for ‘sun and moon’, representing the golden crust and white base. It was a custom in the past to name things after how they looked. Like Hot Cross buns were named Cross buns because they were marked with a cross. Pop downstairs to see the kitchen and the 12th century faggot oven. I just want to cook in it, push the dolly who sits in front of it aside and take over the kitchen. Seriously, why are places still putting creepy old dolls in settings?

Bath has two buns today, the Bath bun and the Sally Lunn, and both are competing to be the first bun to be made in Bath.
The Bath bun is said to have been invented as a cure in the 18th century by a doctor called William Oliver, het later invented the Bath Olivers, a rather dry biscuit that served his purpose to be easy for the stomach much better than the rich Bath Bun did.
The bun is made of a sweet dough very much like that of an original Hot Cross Bun, it is dotted with currants and at the bottom of each bun you will spot a knob of sugar. The buns are finished with a sticky wash and dotted with a couple of extra currants and a few of those teeth breaking sugar nibs. There is a description of this bun in a mid 19th century journal showing us that the bun was known all over England and Scotland by this time.

The Bath-bun is a sturdy and gorgeous usurper – a new potentiate, whose blandishments have won away a great many children, we regret to say, from their lawful allegiance to the plum-bun. The Bath-bun is not only a toothsome dainty, but showy and alluring withal. It was easier for ancient mariners to resist the temptations of the Sirens, than it is for a modern child to turn away from a Bath-bun…Large, solid, and imposing, it challenges attention, and fascinates its little purchasers.
Edinburgh Journal of 1855, Chambers

Address book

See and do

The Roman Baths
Jane Austen Centre
The Circus
The Royal Crescent
Bath Abbey
Theatre Royal
Pulteney Bridge

Food

The Foodie Bugle Shop and Cafe
7 Margaret’s Buildings, Bath BA1 2LP

My number one spot for breakfast, light lunch and cake and tea or coffee. But also for carefully sourced groceries, your daily loaf of decent bread, cheeses, pastries, vegetables, and homewares in the basement shop. Beautiful vintage kitchen and home items and carefully chosen new items to grace the home, kitchen and garden. A must visit for the perfectionist foodie. The owner Silvana is a friend.

The Fine Cheese Co
29-31 Walcot St, Bath BA1 5BN, Verenigd Koninkrijk
www.finecheese.co.uk

For cheeses from Britain, France and Italy. They also have a cafe.

Sally Lunn’s Historic Eating House & Museum
4 North Parade Passage, Bath, BA1 1NX

For Sally Lunn buns served with all kinds of extra’s like eggs, bacon, jam etc.
In the basement a rare faggot oven can be seen in an ancient kitchen setup.

The Bath Bun Tea Shoppe

2 Abbey Green, Bath

For Bath Buns and tea

Pump Room, Searcys (££)
Stall Street, Bath, BA1 1LZ

For Afternoon Tea in Jane Austen style surroundings, right by the Roman Baths.

The Circus Cafe and Restaurant (££)
34 Brock St, Bath
+44 1225 466020

For lunch and dinner, serving modern British food and English wines (French and Italian too)

Jamie’s Italian Bath (£)
10 Milsom Street, Bath BA1 1BZ, Verenigd Koninkrijk

For Italian inspired dishes cooked with fresh ingredients. Always a winner

Outside Bath

Eat and Stay

The Pig restaurant and hotel (££)
Hunstrete, Pensford, 4NS
+44 1761 490490
www.thepighotel.com

For lunch and dinner, serving modern British food and English wines and ales. Breakfast for guests of the hotel.
The food prepared is sourced within 20 miles of The Pig and from their own kitchen garden. I highly recommend this place and a whole post about my visit is following soon.

Smithfield Meat Market – a history and a nomination for the Pink Lady Food photography award!

10th April 2015 by Regula 7 Comments

Smithfield Market, 865 years of notorious history of meat, bloodshed, crime and uprising.

Turning down Sun Street and Crown Street, and crossing Finsbury square, Mr. Sikes struck, by way of Chiswell Street, into Barbican: thence into Long Lane, and so into Smithfield; from which latter place arose a tumult of discordant sounds that filled Oliver Twist with amazement. It was market-morning. The ground was covered, nearly ankle-deep, with filth and mire; a thick steam, perpetually rising from the reeking bodies of the cattle, and mingling with the fog, which seemd to rest upon the chimney-tops, hung heavily above. All the pens in the centre of the large area, and as many temporary pens as could be crowded into the vacant space, were filled with sheep; tied up to posts by the gutter side were long lines of beasts and oxen, three or four deep. Countrymen, butchers, drovers, hawkers, boys, thieves, idlers, and vagabonds of every low grade, were mingled together in a mass; the whistling of drovers, the barking dogs, the bellowing and plunging of the oxen, the bleating of sheep, the grunting and squeaking of pigs, the cries of hawkers, the shouts, oaths, and quarrelling on all sides; the ringing of bells and roar of voices, that issued from every public-house; the crowding, pushing, driving, beating, whooping and yelling; the hideous and discordant dim that resounded from every corner of the market; and the unwashed, unshaven, squalid, and dirty figues constantly running to and fro, and bursting in and out of the throng; rendered it a stunning and bewildering scene, which quite confounded the senses.
Charles Dickens – Oliver Twist, 1838And so were the words of Charles Dickens about Smithfield meat market in his marvellous work Oliver Twist.
England has always been famed for the outstanding quality of its meat. In the 19th century, Smithfield meat market was notorious for its wild cattle that was hazardously driven through the streets of London. The drovers and butchers were apparently as savage as their cattle and murder and rape were no exceptions in these quarters.
Reports of cattle stirred up by drunk herdsmen killing men, woman and children on their way were frequent. Cattle was slaughtered at the site and the streets coloured red with blood.Surrounded by dirty streets, lanes, courts, and alleys, the haunts of poverty and crime, Smithfield is infested not only with fierce and savage cattle, but also with the still fiercer and more savage tribes of drivers and butchers. On market-days the passengers are in danger of being run over, trampled down, or tossed up by the drivers or “beasts”; at night, rapine and murder prowl in the lanes and alleys in the vicinity; and the police have more trouble with this part of the town than with the whole of Brompton, Kensington, and Bayswater. The crowding of cattle in the centre of the town is an inexhaustible source of accidents.Max Schlesinger, Saunterings in and about London, 1853

From 1150,

Smithfield has been used as a market for live stock. It was a large open space on the outskirts of town, it had small open spaces and wooden pens and a broad open street market.

In 1174 Smithfield was described by William Fitzstephen, clerk to Thomas à Becket in his ‘Description of London’, one of my favourite works to learn about Ancient London and its people.

‘In a suburb immediately outside one of the gates there is a field that is smooth, both in name and in fact. Every Friday (unless it is an important holy day requiring solemnity) crowds are drawn to the show and sale of fine horses. This attracts the earls, barons and knights who are then in the city, along with many citizens, whether to buy or just to watch.’
A description of London, ca.1174/1183, translated from Latin.

The ancient map of London ‘Civitas Londinum’ dated to 1561, shows large open fields and cattle pens. The market area is now called ‘Schmyt Fyeld’. During that time the market area had access to the river Fleet so cattle had water to drink and grass to feed on.

Because Smithfield was an open space which was so close to the city centre, it was also used for public executions. William Wallace – known to most as Braveheart after the film – was executed there in 1305. It was also the meeting place to gather for the Peasant’s Revolt in 1381. Executions continued well into the 16th century with Henry VIII murdering Catholics and his daughter ‘Bloody Mary’ burning in excess of 200 protestants. During the 17th century the site became a popular place for duelling and later it turned into a prime spot to pick up a prostitute for the night.

The structure of the market would remain largely the same as in the Middle Ages until a building was erected designed by Victorian architect Sir Horace Jones in 1868. By then the market was in the centre of London instead of in the outskirts, adjoining fields.

We can still see that majestic market building today, and some of its additions from later in that century, but sadly a part of it has been derelict for many decades now.

When I visited the market I was warned by Londoners that some of the butchers were still cheeky buggers and they weren’t kidding. On my short walk around I got talking to one of them, I took his picture, asked him if I could use the image, and he gave me his phone number and told me to call him some time.

The market was at its end of trading that day when I visited, meat was being packed up and carted away in supermarket trolleys, leaving it to look nearly as rough and dirty as it must have looked centuries ago.

It is a historic place, there has been a cattle market here for 865 years, and I hope it will remain here for centuries to come. It’s extraordinary that after the relocation of Billingsgate Fish market, Covent Garden and Spitalfields market, Smithfield market is still holding strong.

It is a heritage site, and with so many historical important places being demolished in London today – think the London Wool and fruit exchange in Shoreditch – we have to hang on to this one while we can.

Looking up in the meat market building

Supermarket carts are used to move the meat and are scattered around everywhere

though crumbling, still a special place

Butchers chatting during the clean-up of todays market day

One of the loading gates

Lorries are driving on and off with loads of meat

The butchers don’t mind posing a little for my camera

Part of the market in its derelict state, still waiting to be renovated and repurposed

Dear readers, the above image from Smithfield market has been shortlisted in the prestigious Pink Lady Food Photography Awards in the category ‘Food For Sale’ for the People’s choice award. If you like my work, I would be super grateful if you would vote for my photograph!

You can vote HERE > and scroll down to ‘Food for sale’

Thanks so much xx

Do leave a comment, I love hearing from you!

Travel

**In payed collaboration with Malmö town.

Nothing happens in my brain here before I have made sure we have this fire and it’s going and we can make food and tea.

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