Down another street I found a Phlegm piece that I hadn’t seen before. This one was interesting and it’s too bad that the day was dull and the detail isn’t apparent. Each little house in the painting is done on ducting that sits like little boxes on the wall. It’s a very clever use of the architecture. I tried to imagine Phlegm, who I had actually seen painting in Toronto, figuring this out and feeling pleased with himself. It really works!
Phlegm’s clever architectural-friendly piece and a close up
I checked out a few other pieces today but that’s it for now. There will be more days, I hope.
Poignant piece from Ben SlowLove Love Love on Hanbury Street
On Wednesday I went with Lisa to do her Passover (Pesach) shopping. We drove into North London through the back streets that she drives with great confidence. I know I will never know London like that! That morning I’d decided to wear regular shoes and set aside the boots. And I wore a sweater and a jacket. I felt free until I went out. The rain began to pour down and the wind blew and I wasn’t dressed anywhere near to appropriately. In fact, I was freezing and my day had hardly begun.
Close to where we were going we got stopped by some cops and had to park at least a five-minute cold and wet walk from where we needed to go. There had been an accident – a car had ploughed into a shop window and the whole frame was taken out. Lisa heard later that two pedestrians had been hit. I did feel like a ghoul taking a photo but anyway, I did!
Mayhem in Golders Green
In the end, we got falafels from a little place Lisa likes. I did enjoy the experience. Hot falafels were poured into bowls at the end of a long salad bar with all the usual (and unusual) falafal fixings and you helped yourself. We ate them on the go. Delicious!
But we turned back from that area. It was pointless shopping when we would have had to carry the groceries so far. We drove instead to an area Lisa had taken me before. It has the unlikely name of Temple Fortune. (This conjures up a small town in Thailand and not North London!) We shopped in one little grocery store where we bought mostly matzo. Then stopped by the bagel bakery where I got 8 little cookies and some cheesecake. They turned out to not taste very special for the price.
A cold, wet adventure! Oh, and I fell on the wet sidewalk. A lesson in not swapping boots for shoes too early in the year.
Last week I had two aborted attempts to go to Mare Street Market. The first because Instagram had led me to believe it was opening on Monday – I was greeted by a notice saying ‘Open on Wednesday.’ Then Krish and I walked over on Thursday in the rain but didn’t really stay since he couldn’t deal with the crowd and the noise. So I took a few photos and will go back between now and Tuesday, when they will still have the 50% soft launch prices. I can’t resist a bargain. Maybe I’ll even go twice!
Some views inside Mare Street Market
The Mare Street Market is occupying a building that used to be the housing benefit office. It was a depressing, shabby building at best. The renovations to turn it into what’s described as ‘a curated space in Hackney for eating, drinking, and shopping.’ If you click on the link above there are some photos that do this space justice but I took just a few of my own.
At 50% off, I do think I might go twice. The menus all sound fantastic and will probably seem too expensive once the soft launch ends, I assume Wednesday.
We have a lovely little museum inside the Hackney Library. RIght now they have an exhibit called ‘Making Her Mark: 100 years of women’s activism’ which will go until 19 May. Hackney has a history of women making their mark in London and in the UK.
The museum entrance, Daniel Dafoe a Hackney resident, and an exhibit
In the 1600s Hackney was known as the The Ladies’ University.’ By 1694 three of the thirteen well-known ladies’ boarding schools in the country were in Hackney.
In 1783 Mary Wollstonecraft, a radical author and philosopher, opened a school for girls in Newington Green. She wrote what is considered the founding text of feminism and inspired women’s suffrage campaigners. She argued that women were not naturally inferior to men, and it was a lack of educaiton which stopped women from fulfilling their potential.In 1824 Fleetword House, Stoke Newington became the Newington Academy for Girls. It was run by Susanne Corder, who broke new ground by teaching subjects like astronomy, chemistry and physics to girls. The area was home to many hugely influential women writers. These include some of the earliest champions for the universal education of women, an idea then viewed as radical and dangerous.
The early Hackney activists along with a modern poster from Sistah Space, which supports African heritage women & girls affected by domestic or sexual violence/abuse/FGM
Even without the parliamentary vote, Hackney women were shaping policy in education and poor relief from the late 1800s as elected representatives on school boards and as poor law guardians. Following the Qualification of Women Act 1907, women played an influential in Hackney’s local politics, both voting and standing in local elections. In 1910, Nettie Adler was elected as the Progressive Party candidate for the Central Hackney Division of the London County Council.
Over the last hundred years, women from a wide range of political parties stood for election i Hackney, Shoreditch and Stoke Newington. Though today only 32% of MPs are women, both of Hackney’s elected parliamentary representative – Diane Abbott and Marg Hillier – are.
Born in London to Jamaican parents, Dianne Abbott was the first black woman to become an MP when she was elected to represent Hackney North & Stoke Newington. Abbott’s career in politics began in 1982 when she was elected to Westminster County Council. She was active in the Black Sections movement within the Labour Party campaigning for greater ethnic minority political presentation.
So I’m a proud female Hackney resident. The area keeps changing but throughout history it’s always been cutting edge, a neighourhood were being different and being brave has been embraced.
View from the library towards the Hackney Empire
A greyish day from under the Empire awning
And today’s Hackney continues to change. Yesterday in Dalston, I noticed this! How have I missed the announcements? Now Hackney has two M&Ss. Amazing!
Somehow I missed the Spring Equinox. So no photos from that day, sadly. This Spring in London reminds me more of a Toronto Spring – warm days mixed with very cold, even snowy, days. A yoyo time and I’m so so ready for the day I can throw off the winter coat and boots.
My cheeses are worrying me. Yes, Philip and Keith both said leave them alone and they’ll be fine. They are now sitting in my fridge inside a cardboard box, on a trivet, with a cup of water to keep the humidity up. They are all covered in a grey fur (apparently normal) I have mixed up the blue and the white – was so careful to keep the labels close and then in the transfer got not-surprisingly confused. Now no idea which is which. The French cheese wouldn’t come out of the mould but when Philip suggested I turn it upside and let it fall out on its own, it did – almost immediately, ripping the bottom off. Now we just have to wait and see how it ends up!
My cheeses maturing – before the French one (bottom left) ripped
On Wednesday I went to Leigh on Sea to see my aunt Ruth. We ate our usual fish and chips and talked about family. It was a pleasant and mild day – the sun shone and all was right with the world. I have yet to fix a date to see my other aunt, Kay – who is also my cousin, but that confuses everyone. My mum and dad officially met when mum’s cousin Kay married Dad’s older brother Ed. Couldn’t be easier but everyone looks stunned and mutters things like incest…um, no!
My aunt’s suburban street and her usual seat
Thursday, it was cooler again and quite grey. I put the finishing touches on another doll and I decided to take the bus to see a new mural that had been commissioned for the centenary of the vote for some UK women. But first, back to Green Papaya where I sat quietly and contemplated my life or my navel or perhaps the dish in front of me. My decision was that I prefer the Toronto version, which has the sauce served separately and uses a different type of pork – even a choice of grilled meats. However, these little breaks in my week are very important to me and it’s the best thing to eat in this neighbourhood!
Grilled belly pork at Green Papaya
The bus to Old Ford Road goes through Victoria Park, where I played as a child. There are a lot of memories but not many clear facts about this area. I don’t recall exploring as a child but instead treading the same streets many many times on the way to the market, to nursery school, to the sweet shop, going to the park, visiting my Aunt Kay’s dress factory (a treasure trove!) outside playing on the pavement, and walking down towards my maternal grandmother, Charlotte’s (Lottie’s) house (perhaps a mile away).
Today I was headed to see a mural, though. It’s on the Old Ford Road which runs adjacent to the park. A long time ago, as a child, my mother had a friend on this street. She lived in one of the tall houses, perhaps occupying one or two of the floors. She had a daughter my age and that daughter introduced me to the ‘interesting’ game of ‘doctor.’ The details are shameful and I hope no permanent damage was done! Other people’s children seemed far more experienced in such things. Always the ‘good girl,’ I’d follow along and wonder why. I still do.
Today was the day I took my cheesemaking workshop. it seemed so far away when I got it as a gift from Krish over Christmas but suddenly it was time.
Lisa’s husband, Richard, had taken a cheesemaking workshop before and even showed me how he made goat’s cheese one day. So I had a bit of a clue. I knew I would be on my feet, working, in a cold environment so I was somewhat prepared.
Wildes Cheese is a small artisan cheesemaking business in Tottenham, North London – not so many miles from here. It was founded by two men, who I assumed were a couple – Philip (the kooky, extrovert one) and Keith (the quieter, gentle one). Keith was the original hobby cheesemaker and now they have a small business, operating out of a little space on an industrial estate in what’s basically a residential area.
That morning I travelled by train to White Hart Lane and began my journey to cheese.
Leaving the station at White Hart LaneThis area of Tottenham is stiflingly (for me!) suburban and residential
I’d say it was uneventful but first the station had lost power for the Oyster machine so I have to call Transport for London to claim a refund – they charge the maximum when you can’t ‘tap out’ on the Oyster machine. The second thing was taking a wrong turning (or not taking the turning) to go up to the dairy. Smooth journey, not so much.
The industrial estate was just a yard, not the sprawling expanse I expected from my Canadian experience. The space was small. An ante room where we had talks and food, Two larger rooms used for making cheese, and two small rooms that were cold rooms for cheese storage. It amazed me that they were producing such quantities of cheese from there but produce it they do!
Philip is hysterical, ribald, warmer than he likes to pretend (I’m dead inside, he said, more than once.) After tea, biscuits and an overview of the day, we went into the cheesemaking room and were put into pairs. My partner was a quiet man, whose name I didn’t know. We barely spoke a word but it worked out OK. In front of each work station were three basins, a collander, a J-cloth, a wooden spoon, a thermometer and a blue straining cloth. It looked practical and basic!
We separated out the basins and waited for our milk. The milk used here is delivered from the cow to the farmer to Wildes each morning. It’s pasteurised but unhomogenised. We got to taste the milk alongside some supermarket milk and you can bet there’s a difference!
Fresh milk! Only hours old
We ended up with three buckets of milk each, placed into its own basin of warm water to raise the temperature. The first two buckets had ten litres of milk, the third only three or four.
The buckets here have the culture added to the milk and are now restingXavier, who’s from Spain and apprenticing at Wildes
The apprentice, Xavier, was weighing and packing cheese over in the corner. The little jars you see contain the bacterial culture (‘the mother’) that determines the type of cheese that will be produced. The granulated cultures we used were for a hard white cheese, a blue cheese, and a French-type cheese. These granules were added into the milk and much stirring and checking milk temperature followed – it can’t go below 30C.
In the other room we looked at a soft cheese that was developing for us to use later. And we saw some of the harder cheeses sitting for us to check out. There was also a large heated vat where Philip told me they stored the milk that was delivered. No need for other storage.
Cheeses sitting – not sure at what stageHere you can see the whey separating from the curds of the soft cheese mix
A greyish day from under the Empire awning
