Christmas Films Advent Calendar

One of the debates that comes around at this time of year, is that of top Christmas films, and it is a discussion of which I will probably never tire. There are plenty of discussions to be had around what is and is not – Die Hard, anyone – a Christmas film. Whether the aforementioned is better than The Muppets’ Christmas Carol, and of course which film should hold the coveted title of Best Christmas Film. The discussions will never be settled, and nor should they be; what matters is enjoying them all, or at least, as many as possible.  To that end we have decided to take the advent calendar approach, lining up 25 films to see us into Christmas Day. What follows is our order and though some date/film combinations are flexible for us, others e.g. The Polar Express, is immovable from its Christmas Eve slot.

Dec. 1^st – Christmas in Connecticut: new to some, perhaps, but a frothy, not to mention bonkers, start to December.
Dec 2^nd – Home Alone: enough said.
Dec 3^rd – The Bishop’s Wife: Cary Grant and David Niven: two classic gents of the silver screen for the price of one in a simply charming film.
Dec 4^th – The Man Who Invented Christmas: The story about most people’s favourite Christmas story.
Dec 5^th – How the Grinch Stole Christmas: Jim Carrey in green fur. Good fun, though perhaps more for the kids.
Dec 6^th – National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation: chaos descends, in the shape of Chevy Chase, on a family Christmas vacation.
Dec 7^th – Narnia: snowy, frozen landscapes, ice queens and talking wolves and lions. Proper fairytale charm.
Dec 8^th – Joyeux Noël: the story of the Christmas truce football match in 1914. Sombre, but worth it, and a reminder to be thankful for what you have.
Dec 9^th – Bridget Jones’ Diary: you know, Colin Firth in a Christmas jumper.
Dec 10^th – Die Hard: for some the best Christmas film ever, if indeed it is a Christmas film.
Dec 11^th – Scrooge: for my money the actual best Christmas film ever, with Alastair Sim – a much underrated actor – in a definitive portrayal of Ebenezer Scrooge.
Dec 12^th – Miracle on 34th Street: pick your version – the black and white one for me – and enjoy a fine example of the “child reminding the adults what Christmas is all about” trope.
Dec 13^th – The Nightmare before Christmas: the folks behind Halloween try to do Christmas for a change. Brilliant animated musical.
Dec 14^th – It’s a Wonderful Life: Jimmy Stewart nearly loses it all, before Clarence comes to his rescue and earns his wings. “Atta boy, Clarence!”

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Elf

Scrooge: A Christmas Carol

The Holiday

Home Alone

White Christmas

Dec 15^th – Home Alone 2: Lost in New York: a sequel that is nearly up to the standard of the original. Excellent fun.
Dec 16^th – The Santa Clause: Tim Allen reluctantly and haplessly becomes Santa Clause after doing in the old one.
Dec 17^th – Elf: sometimes cringeworthy, but sometimes utterly hilarious. Something for everyone.
Dec 18^th – Die Hard 2: the same stuff (well, not “stuff”, but you know what I mean) happening to the same guy twice – in an airport.
Dec 19^th – Love Actually: complete with dancing Hugh Grant and a nativity lobster.
Dec 20^th – Trading Places: riches-to-rags-to-riches/rags-to-riches classic. And of course, the Mozart overture is unmistakable.
Dec 21^st – The Snowman: only half an hour or so, but such a wonderful story, with Aled Jones doing his stuff.
Dec 22^nd – The Muppets’ Christmas Carol: Miss Piggy reins it in as Mrs Bob Cratchit, and the rest of the muppets cast are perfect too. Beautifully judged take on the Christmas story.
Dec 23^rd – The Holiday: unashamedly romantic with a nice side order of cinema nostalgia.
Dec 24^th – The Polar Express: get home from the carol service, get a cuppa, get cosy, and get ready for Christmas: that’s our routine.
Dec 25^th – White Christmas: (after a re-watch of Home Alone, if our household is anything to go by): a remake that is more famous than its original and contains a couple of Christmas classics.

A year of the Cirencester blog

One year Wold.

To say “it’s been an interesting 12 months” is almost banal nowadays. Pick any 12 month period in the last 50 or so and given the upheaval that is going on, well, almost anywhere you care to name, it will feel like a lot has happened within that time. There is plenty to give you cause for utter despair – clueless politicians pretending they understand the modern world, despots left right and centre, and a narcissistic nutter squatting in the White House. Even as I write this, the headlines are full of missile strikes against a despot who is alleged to have gassed his own people.

Even our lovely home town of Cirencester has not been immune to controversy. If you don’t believe me, say the word ‘Chesterton’ to any Cirencestrian and watch them roll their eyes or give a puff of the cheeks. So what, then, does a small blogging collective in the Cotswolds and its periodic output over the last 12 months matter when set against all of that?

On one level – on several levels, probably – not very much at all. We’d be the first to admit that our voice is no more worthy of being listened to than any of the hundreds or thousands of others that have something to say. But that helps us keep our feet on the ground, our focus close to home: the Cotswolds.

The reason we started writing about Cirencester and its environs was because there was so much we felt we wanted to tell other people about, even if all they gleaned from it was a different take on something they already know well. We also felt that there was a gap, that there was a lack of local bloggers and articles about the area. That, happily, turned out not to be true. In fact, we’ve come across so many people during the last year – here or on Instagram – who are clearly as passionate about our shared muse as we are, if not more so.

What comes across, as we read articles and look at the myriad photos, is the pervading sense of positivity. When reviewing places (eateries mainly, but only because there are so many on offer) it’s easy to slip in a couple of niggles, or even be openly critical, but I rarely see that. That’s just remarkable when set against the polarised, opinionated world we now seem to live in.

During the last year, we’ve have been reminded what a fantastic asset we have in Cirencester Hospital, we’ve eaten well (whether at breakfast, lunch or dinner) and of course we’ve enjoyed the seemingly limitless beauty and splendour of the Cotswolds. And while it’s not been all good news – remember when we lost the health shop in Castle Street and one of our two Whiddett’s? – even that gave us one of the best quotes ever given to a local paper.

I was chatting to a blogger friend of mine about writing about the town or city where you live. The emerging theme of that conversation was that it involves a certain degree of mythologising, accentuating the positives. He’s right. Not only is it just a better way of approaching things, but also that, among all the craziness out there, it feels more important than ever to pay attention to the good stuff around you and show it some appreciation. You end up showcasing the best of where you live, and I’d say that’s a good thing.

So yes, it’s been an interesting 12 months (whether you take the macro or micro view) and the same will probably true for the next 12. But while “interesting times” is often used as a curse wished on others, you can easily see it in the opposite light. What is clear is that among the many adjectives you could use to describe the Cirencester and the Cotswolds, ‘interesting’ is definitely high on that list. The sheer variety of places we’ve been to in order to write content has been a joy, and what’s even more exciting is that we have so much left to discover, enjoy and share.

And there’d be no sharing were it not for those of you who have kindly read our posts, digested our thoughts and even started following us, so for that, it seems best to end on a sincere and earnest “thank you”.

etc.

The Sign of the Angel, Lacock

The eagle-eyed among you, may instantly be wondering why a blog that concerns itself with Cirencester and the Cotswolds, is writing about a pub in Lacock. It is a fair question. Lacock itself is located in the heart of the Wiltshire countryside and while it is not far from Cirencester, it is still a stretch to think of it as near the Cotswolds, even if everything is relative.

The answer is twofold, really: firstly it is such a nice place that we can’t help but feel compelled to tell you about it; and second, believe it or not, The Sign of the Angel in Lacock, markets itself as “located in the National Trust village of Lacock, on the edge of the Cotswolds and only a short distance from Bath.” For those two reasons, I ask you to go with me on this.

This Easter weekend was not the friendliest, weatherwise, but there is something about the Brits that compels us to do something, come a bank holiday weekend. One of those days must be spent doing DIY/the garden/spring cleaning (delete as appropriate); there must be a big family meal; and there has to be an outing of some sort. This was our outing, and we could not have picked a worse day, but we were rewarded by our lunch destination.

To say we were all ready for food is a blithe understatement. I have no idea what it is about just sitting in a car that makes you ravenous but I can attest to the truth of this phenomenon. So it was, first with great interest, and then with great pleasure, that we read the menu. There are some menus, that when you read them, you just know (barring a major upset) are a sign of good things to come. I could have happily eaten everything on there. There is a set lunch menu from which you can choose your combination of courses, or there are some lighter lunch options.Between us we ordered a decent cross-section.

 

Low ceilings abound.

The sign of The Sign of the Angel

Cosy interiors are very welcoming.

It was only once we’d ordered that we took stock of our 14th century surroundings. They were quite something, and it is easy to see why Lacock is a perennial film or TV location both inside and out. There were nooks, there were crannies, beams that bowed so low they were a hazard to anyone over 4 feet 6. The garden looked a picture, even in the rain, and must surely be quite something when the weather lets it. There are fireplaces  – thankfully complete with fires when we were there, doors that looked older than the last two centuries combined and a maze of different spaces, all with tables full of expectant or satisfied-looking diners.

Which brings us back to the food which, when it all came, had the air of a banquet and was entirely in keeping with the renaissance-era surroundings. The prawn cocktail salad (a main course portion) was served on a long, rectangular slate set into a wooden base that looked for all the world like a sled. In terms of visual impact, it could not be faulted, and tasted every bit as good. The prawns, grilled and juicy, were lavishly dressed in a mildly spicy cocktail sauce with sun blush tomatoes, olives, a griddled baby gem lettuce and some melba toast. My blade of beef was meltingly tender and surrendered to the merest hint of pressure from my fork. Coupled with a pea risotto some steamed celeriac  – refreshingly not mashed, for once – and a smoked garlic jus that might possibly be the most intensely savoury flavour I taste all year. I am quite easily given to food hyperbole, but even allowing for that these two dishes were sensational.

And it did not end there.  To continue on the sublime meat theme, one of our junior number had a minute steak with chips – a pub classic, but in this instance taken to the next level. The thin slices of steak were beautifully presented with some mushrooms and some chips. While the steak was proclaimed delicious, it was the chips that drew what can only be described as rave reviews. They were a similar success when accompanying the pork chop with black pudding, Chantenay carrots and a port wine sauce. I think we all cleared our plates quite quickly, but that one was hoovered up with relish. Thankfully, it being Good Friday, one of us had the grace to have fish – a beautiful filet of salmon, served on some pearl couscous flavoured with lemon, samphire, and a yoghurt dressing.

The portions were not small by any means, but they did leave room for dessert, for those of us still needing a little finishing off. From first seeing eyes on the menu – I did this before even entering, getting soaked all the while but not minding in the slightest – I had had my eye on the apricot cheesecake. However, the blood orange steamed pudding with a citrus caramel, rhubarb sorbet, and vanilla custard was also too good to resist. We decided to share. The apricot cheesecake was a deconstructed affair that looked stunning, with both the creamy, almost-salty mascarpone and the sweetly tangy apricot sorbet providing a vivid contrast against the matt black glaze of the serving plate. The scattered oat crumb brought the ensemble together, providing texture and substance. The pudding, altogether more subtle in appearance on its pristine white oblong plate, was no less of a picture. The pudding was soft and light, a perfect foil for the blood orange on top and the zing of the rhubarb sorbet and the velvety smooth custard. And then that citrus caramel – such a beautiful way to complete the palette of flavours.

Being with children, we worried slightly that the food might be too sophisticated for the younger ones but we needn’t have. All plates were emptied, and the faces of both young and older at the table told a story of happy, sated appetites. After such a feast a walk around the village would have been ideal, but the Good Friday weather had other ideas. As it was, what we did see of Lacock – which was not a lot – was done mainly through the rain-splattered car windows. This is a shame, but really we had no alternative – the weather and an injury to one of our party put paid to any sightseeing “on the edge of the Cotswolds”. We will go back though.

Bits and bites: Cirencester’s top 5 connected cafes

It was pretty chilly outside the other morning, and in our case, it was pretty cold inside too. The central heating had not come on because the boiler pressure was too low. Well, non-existent, actually. There then followed frantic Googling for the instruction manual: one of the few unheralded joys of the web is being able to find a manual online to replace the one you know you have somewhere but are unlikely to find. After some more faffing, um-ing and ah-ing, and an abortive attempt or two to fix things, we finally got it sorted. Problem solved, and the prospect of having to spend a day at home waiting for an engineer to come and fix it, was gone.

Sticky toffee pudding at Toro Lounge

Proper milkshake thanks to He Says She Waffles

The fabulous apple pie waffle

That prospect of having to stay home, or close to home, in order to accommodate an imprecisely-specified appointment with an engineer, had led me to wonder about where I might usefully base myself in order to remain local and get some work done. Home is the obvious option, but what if I wanted to be in town, and need to be connected? Where could I sit, order the occasional drink and perhaps my lunch, while all the time continuing my Canutian struggle against the inexorably rising tide of email in my inbox. If that doesn’t strike you as a pressing concern – and there is no reason why it should – then perhaps you just need to find some WiFi to keep those special teenagers from predicting the apocalypse if they can’t open their latest Snapchat. Either way, the idea of checking out the WiFi in the various hangouts around town took root and grew and has led to this.

In a lot of our posts we talk lovingly – with good reason – about the location, the food and drink, the atmosphere, etc., that we are really very fortunate to get to enjoy. But also being able to be connected while enjoying such places is important to many, so if it is something you care about, hopefully you’ll find it useful. We’ve already started with our research, with the first couple of results below.

NB: For upload and download higher is better; for the ping, lower is better. While they’re not super controlled and scientific – for example, one place might be more crowded than another, the grading system used by the app gives a good idea.

The WiFi List (with a little nod towards the food and drink!):

1. The Cafe at the New Brewery Arts: we’ve written about the Brewery Cafe before, and that we are big fans, not least of the salads and the cakes. Now it turns out that the WiFi is pretty good too, proving to be in the top quartile in the UK. As if there was not already plenty to like about the Brewery Cafe – did you try the mince pies over Christmas – it turns out it is a place you could happily stay all day and stay connected all day.
   
2. Caffe Nero: probably our favourite out of the three High Street coffee mainstays. It is also a popular hangout for those needing to crack on with some work while wanting to be in a social environment. The espresso is passable, the panettoncino always a nice accompaniment, and the WiFi courtesy of The Cloud is pretty good too.
   
3. Waterstones Cafe: somewhere we’ve been meaning to pay a visit, not least because of their focus on local suppliers. With suppliers like Whiddett’s and Lavender Bakehouse you know you’re going to eat well, and the comfy chairs do encourage you to linger. There is free WiFi, too, although according to the numbers, it does lag the Brewery Arts Cafe, being in the slowest 20% of hotspots in the UK.
   
4. He Says She Waffles: this has always been one of our favourite places to go for a treat – the apple pie waffle that drips with caramelised apples and sultanas while the whipped cream slowly melts over it all is a thing of beauty just to behold, let alone eat. The new additions to the savoury part of the menu mean we’ll be going back there for a full waffle-based meal. WiFi is essential here for me, as Blackjack Street contrives to cut me off, so the fact that they have it is a big plus. It’s not the speediest, but it’s more than functional – we worked there without issue and even posted content. Also worth a mention is that this is just a great place to hang out – there’s invariably a fun vibe that feels great to be a part of.
   
5. The Toro Lounge: we’ve always had an ambivalent relationship with the Toro Lounge; it’s not somewhere we make a bee line for, yet it is somewhere we keep returning to and thinking: “actually, this place does have a lot going for it.” While the decor – particularly the dim lighting – is not to my personal liking, I am compelled to admit that the places as a whole does have a rather nice “hangout” vibe that leaves you happy to linger for much longer than you might have planned. And they’ve plenty of space, so you never have to worry that you might be depriving others of a place to sit and eat. Add to this the all day menu, a decent standard of coffee and tea and of course the complementary WiFi and you have the makings of an excellent place to install yourself should the need (or the fancy) arise. The WiFi is not super-speedy (see below), connectivity is relatively simple, quick and stable.
   

Baker and Graze

There are parts of Cheltenham that just feel nice. Well off, too, of course, but wealth is by no means a guarantor of niceness. Around Suffolk Road in Montpellier, however, the immediate neighbourhood just felt, well, nice. The small terraced houses, white – or pastel – washed to perfection stood out against the grey backdrop, many of their facades, curiously different in height to each other considering they were terraced houses. A hundred years ago, you could see this place having quite a different atmosphere, but today it looked spick and span. And this was despite a downpour that seemed never-ending, the sort of rain that doesn’t seem so bad from indoors, but can soak you through in seconds. It was thus we arrived at Baker and Graze.

Stepping through the door, though, one felt bathed in the orange glow of the antique feel lightbulbs – I keep promising myself I’ll get some  – and instantly encouraged further in by the delicious aroma: it’s the one where you can smell pastry, fresh bread, sweetness and coffee all at once. Talk about reassuring: it’s an aroma that lets you know that barring a catastrophe, you’ve made the right choice, and that [insert meal here] should be a treat. If the aroma was not enough to convince you, the array of breads, pastries, and other baked treats perched handily by the till  – just in case you want to extend to Baker and Graze experience father into your day – would settle things.

It was still early, so the place was nowhere near full, the the usual screen of condensation that masks a humming and thriving eatery like this had yet to form, so I took my seat and gazed out at the Farrow & Ball opposite. First things first, though: coffee – I could have downed a bucketful – and a hot chocolate for young Miss Cirencetera. The understanding smile that greeted my very hasty order, was still there a few minutes later to accompany the delivery of my flat white and even before taking a sip I felt warmed still further. The coffee was good, though frankly I was in such need of something warm, milky and caffeinated, my critical powers disappeared as rapidly as the contents of my cup.

The menu, delivered attached to a clipboard – I do wonder whether clipboard manufacturers are seeing a resurgence in demand these days, or whether these were procured merely from an office clearance – offered much promise and no little dilemma. There was nothing on there that I did not want to eat, not least because the prospect of sourdough as part of your breakfast is never a bad thing. The ubiquitous avocado was accompanied by streaky bacon and a poached egg, but there was also the option of spicy Nduja with poached eggs, or roasted field mushrooms with spinach and a poached egg, but I went for the fennel sausages on sourdough with anchovy butter and kale on the side. With a poached egg on top. Little Miss Cirenetc. had a sausage sandwich upgraded to the fennel variety – I admit to feeling I felt a teensy flush of pride when she asked if that was possible. Other dishes we sampled were the shaksuka baked eggs and avocado, hummus and roasted peppers on toasted pumpernickel.

As we waited for our breakfast bangers and the other dishes to arrive, hungry diners did also and the place was very soon full and alive with a satisfying buzz – all the better to conceal the rumbles emanating from my stomach. The wait was well worth it, however, as dishes to warm up the heart as well as everything else started to arrive. I can’t pretend to have sampled the sausage sandwich but having opted for the fennel sausage on toast I feel safe in recommending it as an option. As a twist on the boring/traditional – pick your adjective – fennel sausages are to be recommended. My sausages, on toast with anchovy butter, were delicious with the softness of a poached egg and some of the kale. While the addition of the kale may seem unnecessary and faddish, it works, definitely adding to the dish as a whole, rather than being a mere extra.

Good as the sausages were, the other two dishes were probably better. The coolness of hummus, avocado and roasted pepper on the hot, nutty pumpernickel, was a genuine surprise. The poached egg was a good extra hit of protein, but the dish would not have missed it. I’m not entirely sure why toasted pumpernickel should be so much of a revelation, but it was and I can see us having that more often at home. Ditto the shaksuka – a Tunisian dish in case you were wondering – two baked eggs looking so wholesome they might just have been at Sunday School, sitting in a spicy and fragrant tomato and pepper sauce, finished with chopped coriander leave and a couple of pieces of toasted sourdough, wedged at the side. It was fragrant, spicy and immensely satisfying, not least that combination of tomato and pepper with a bit of velvet egg yolk just to cool the heat. It seems to be a regular on the menu, so if you get a chance, I recommend you try it.

For breakfast dessert – who says breakfast has to be a single course meal? – we had the granola and greek yoghurt topped with blackberries and poached pear, and a sticky toffee cruffin, that insanely good combination of muffin and croissant. The granola was a perfect follow up to the baked eggs and the sausages: the fruit and yoghurt providing cool softness as a counterpoint to the sweet cinnamon tastiness of the granola. And that cruffin, OMG. Even after all I had eaten, those mouthfuls I was permitted to enjoy, were moments of pure, sweet, flaky, buttery joy. I’ve always views the cruffin – alongside its portmanteau pastry sibling the cronut – as gimmicks, but count me among the converted now.

When it came time to leave, so sated were we after so much deliciousness, we were deaf to the pleas of those tillside treats to take them home for further pastry indulgence. Baker and Graze has only been in situ for less than a year and is in good company considering some of the eateries it has as near neighbours. And from our relative outsider perspective, it feels like it is already an established part of its neighbourhood that is set to stay should its owners wish to do so. They’re on to a good thing and, I think, so are we.

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/etc.

Bank Holiday Special

On One of My Favourite Shops in Cirencester

Following on from my midweek withering a few weeks back on the unintended consequences of the Market Place refurbishment, I am taking this opportunity – and what better time than on a Bank Holiday weekend – to turn to the positive in penning this  paean to one of my favourite shops in Cirencester. You’re going to have to go with me on this, as it is perhaps a trifle unexpected, but for years now, it has been – and still is – one of those places where I will almost go looking for an excuse to go and buy something. I realise that may say more about me than I should perhaps be comfortable with, but let’s give me the benefit of the doubt, and take a moment to appreciate the wonder that is Gardiner Haskins. Like I said: go with me on this.

I don’t know about you, but thinking back to my childhood, I seem to remember that nearly every Sunday morning was spent not in Church (despite my parents’ best efforts) but in the DIY superstores that began to spring up on the edge of towns around the UK. While I know such trip were unremittingly dull for some, perhaps even most, kids, I have to admit to liking them. Perhaps it was the size of the likes of Sandford’s, – remember them? – Texas, and the others whose names I forget, that impressed me, or perhaps it was the thought that this trip marked the starting point for the creation of something exciting at home; to this day I retain fond memories of those places, which may go some way to explaining my liking for Gardiner’s.

But this not just pure nostalgia we are talking here.

I like the fact that is in the centre of town, rather than stuck out on the periphery of the town. I am not, in general, a fan of those out-of-town shopping centres. I know they have their place, but one of the things I like about Ciren is that the town centre is a proper nucleus that holds the rest of the town together, and so to have a town centre where nearly everything you might need is obtainable is a wonderful thing: it is to Cirencester’s great credit, that it houses a shop that you would, under normal circumstances expect to be relegated wallflower-like to the periphery.

Also, it has its own carpark. Again, I suspect that that is a fact that often goes unnoticed, but one that deserves at least a modicum of acknowledgment, not to mention appreciation. In my case it verges on the ridiculous that I drive there, but with the winter  – not to mention the recent downpours – we’ve had, I’ve even less compulsion to walk. I can’t help it but it is a facility I like to make use of when I have cause to shop there: even in a town where it’s relatively cheap and easy (most of the time) to park for any length of time, one feels as though it’d be madness not to use it.

Another thing I like is that it has a back entrance to add to the one out the front, something which, like the car park, may not be much to recommend anywhere, but how many stores in the town can actually boast that? Calling it a store rather than a shop is particularly apposite; it’s not just a place where we – yes, more of us than we might think – go to part with our money and walk out with something, it is that we know Gardiner’s is where things are kept for us when we most need to go an buy them. This is something one finds all too rarely. Granted, in the kitchen section for example, it has many items you’d be able to find in Steamer Trading a few salubrious metres up the road, but it has the more mundane stuff as well. Personally, I feel comforted that if ever I have an urgent need for a new frying pan and some kettle descaler, I can pop along to Gardiner’s and be able to find what I’m after, and even get a recommendation from one of the generally very knowledgeable staff as to what one is best.

I’m a big fan of the in-store recommendation; when one is in the market for something, even for such mundanities as caustic calcium removal products, it brightens one’s day to get not just a recommendation, but one with a pros versus cons summary as part of the package. It almost makes me want to go shopping for some lawn feed, and I don’t even have a lawn. We may be used to well-trained and knowledgeable staff in our town, possibly even overprovided for it, but here they take this to another, almost gloriously obsequious, level. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not about the attention – most of the time I heave a sigh of relief if left unbothered by in-store staff – but it is such a delight to see service and attention to detail still being seen as important. It makes a difference.

The minute you walk through the door (either one), you know that this is shopping that is slightly removed from the norm, but in a very good way. Whether it’s from the front into the midst of all the kitchenalia, or from the back where one is greeted by four-way gang plugs, coaxial cables – well, cables, anyway – and possibly even hanging baskets on special offer. From there you can go in many directions – time was when I used to lose my bearings in there – and end up in paint, the aforementioned GreenGro or whatever it’s called, even upstairs to lighting and furniture (both indoor occasional and outdoor): the world is your domestic necessities oyster.

So, there we have it. Next time you need some bin bags or some more clothes pegs, first make sure you actually go to Gardiner’s for them. Then take a moment and look around to discover what is actually in there and consider the sheer amount of useful and not-so-useful – who really wants a DVD of the London Midland Scottish Railway between the wars – stuff that they have: it really is remarkable. I, for one, am very happy that we have a shop like Gardiner’s in our town centre. I treasure its presence, and I think we all should.

Wednesday Whinge – The Market Place

Cirencester has been a market town for centuries. Indeed, the Council’s own website proudly declares that it was mentioned in the Doomsday book and it is undeniably part of the town’s DNA. The wool trade that established the town and maintained its prosperity is now only legacy, with the town now a place for traders of all kinds. The agriculture that surrounds the town, not least in the shape of the Royal Agricultural University is, though, a constant reminder of the town’s roots, and shows its face more clearly every time the artisans come to town to display and sell their crafts and wares.

So it is little surprise that we all hold views on the Market Place, and its lengthy revamp. I can recall various conversations on the topic all throughout 2016 as we worked up to its completion and unveiling, at the switching on of the Christmas lights by the estimable Ben Miller, who even saw fit to make a joke of it. A common thread that ran through all of those conversations was a lack of understanding of: a) what took so long; b) what exactly were they trying to achieve.

The ‘they’, incidentally, in all of this is the Council, the body of women and men who are responsible for the management of the town and its amenities. As such, they are responsible for maintaining and creating an environment that works for the town, its people and its businesses, businesses that contribute to making a community what it is, but also rely on it to be able to survive.

So it is with some concern that within the space of a few days, two of these businesses are literally shutting up shop, and each doing so because of the new Market Place. The first to go was Whiddett’s in Cricklade Street, a bakery that is known to many. Owner Robert Whiddett laid the blame clearly at the door of the Council and its regeneration scheme which, he said, had hit the branch to the tune of £1000 a week. His quote in the local paper, claiming that “the only other Roman town that’s had worse done to it is Pompeii”, may have overstated things, but it does convey a depth of feeling that is genuinely felt. At least they live to fight another day with their Dollar Street branch – do head there and check out their sugar buns!

 

All but gone too is the Nutrition Centre in Castle Street, which shuts its doors on the 29th of July. This is a particular shame, given the level of nutritional expertise that we will effectively lose from the town. I know some people who have been going out of their way to shop there in a vain attempt to help them survive, but it’s no avail. The owners there, too, privately cite that the regeneration scheme for the Market Place as the reason for the closure. It hit traffic so badly, they say, for such an extended period of time that it did irreparable damage to their footfall and, ultimately, chances of survival.

It’s easy to tell ourselves that the town centre is a thriving and prosperous hub, but these are warning signs that ought to be heeded. The upper end of Castle Street is not what it once was, and Cricklade Street may be heading the same way.  Yes, the premises may get filled by some chain or other, or even another local entrepreneur, and we would wish them well. It is undeniably sad, however, that we have lost two local businesses in the space of a few days. We need to cherish – and actively champion – such folks, for they give character, identity, and soul to market towns like ours.

Indeed, independent shops are vital if we want our town to stand out from others, if we want to offer tourists a reason to visit somewhere unique, rather than a carbon copy of smallville, middle England. If our high street ends up looking indistinguishable from any other small town’s – then why would people come? After all, we are the capital of the Cotswolds and we owe some of our prestige and affluence to our visitors. Variety is the spice of life, as they say, and there is no variation in the umpteenth cafe chain outlet.

A few years ago, I was on holiday in and around the town of Holt, a market town in North Norfolk that is not dissimilar to Cirencester. It has a deli-cum-eatery like Made By Bob, a specialist coffee shop with delicious cakes like Cotswold Artisan Coffee, even a pottery painting studio just like our own Pick a Pot and Paint. After a few days there,  it struck me that there was not a single chain in sight, not a High Street brand anywhere except for Boots the Chemist. I asked about this and was told that it was the result of Council policy, and I all but clasped my hands in that gesture of half thanks, half prayer. I’ve often wondered whether we need something like that here in Cirencester. It may or may not be the answer, but if another local business ends up having to close and cites the Market Place regeneration as a cause, then we will have serious cause to rethink. The Market Place should make our town, not be breaking it one piece at a time. Fingers crossed that we don’t have to read another commercial obituary in the pages of our local paper.

Breakfast on Love Lane

Breakfast? On an industrial estate? Oh yes.

It may seem a trifle quixotic having just posted about some of the fabulous eating locations on offer in the Cotswolds – the sort of places that lay on a genuine visual feast as well as culinary delights – to suddenly switch modes and go for a place where the surroundings could not be more mundane if you tried. To top it off, it was raining, and raining hard when we went, turning down the potential visual interest, still further. So there we were, on Love Lane – could there be a more incongruously named industrial estate in the world – surrounded by builders’ merchants, plumbing stores and the like, about to have breakfast. And not from some roadside trailer either, but a farm shop: another oddity. (Call me a traditionalist, but I expect to find farm shops in the countryside, not right across the road from Travis Perkins.) The full car park, however, does give one a small clue as to what locals think of the place.

Once you go inside however – and our entrance was rapid to avoid a soaking – all such notions of incongruity disappear, things all make sense, and you are transported rapidly back to all things food. At first glance, on entering, the Jesse Smith Farm shop just looks like a butcher’s shop – no surprise there, they have been selling meat in the Cotswolds for over 200 years – but look around and it is the genuine article. The thought of eating a meaty breakfast while confronted with the raw materials hanging full length behind panes of glass not far away may not sound terribly appealing, but once at table, this doesn’t figure. The range, by the way, goes beyond meat into dairy, bakery, fruit and veg and more besides, so if you need to do a spot of food shopping, there is plenty to tempt.

The restaurant is round the corner from the shop, and as we were exceeding hungry, we turned left, hardly giving the shop a glance and made a quick grab for a table – there are days when you need the reflexes of a German tourist on the Neapolitan Riviera to get a spot, so popular it can be.  Having made your choices, you order at the counter, giving your table number and trying to resist the siren call of the delicious cakes and pastries displayed alongside. There is something quite nice about ordering and paying all at once – it may just be me, but parting with money before you’ve eaten is preferable, as it means there is nothing to settle after your meal, except the meal itself. You choose, you pay, you eat and you’re done: perfect.

The menu, an A4 sheet decked out on both sides with colourful graphics depicting rather than listing the choices available, reads like part atlas (‘The Vegas’, ‘The Texas’), part bad joke (‘The Mexican’, ‘The Brit’, ‘The French’) and part humidor price list (‘The Monte Cristo’, ‘The Royale’.) And there is more than just the promise of exotic climes to tempt one: the sound of “coriander hash, spicy sausage, avocado, pineapple salsa, chorizo, poached egg” gets more tempting with each reading of it. And if you’re up for it at 10:30 in the morning (and I most certainly was) you can feel reassured that it looks as good as it sounds, and tastes even better. The smoky heat of the spicy sausage patty and the chorizo is tempered a little by the smoothness of the poached egg and avocado, while the sweet freshness of the pineapple sits on on top like a gilded flavour tiara.

My dining partner had the Spaniard (as it were). This is essentially a breakfast burger, although I confess I think I’d be happy eating it irrespective of time of day. The beef patty is served with crispy chorizo, avocado and topped with a fried egg and all in a brioche bun. The crispy chorizo is particularly good, like crunchy, spicy pennies, they offer a textural as well as a flavour lift to the dish, and if you have not tried a fried egg in a burger, then this might be a very good place to start. I came across the notion of fried eggs in a burger “stack’ many years ago on a trip to Portland in Oregon and have been a big fan ever since. The US may have many gastronomic faults, but they certainly – particularly in Portland – know how to do breakfast too. Try it: I don’t think you’ll regret it.

While I did not have the ‘Vegas’, I couple made their way out to others as I was ordering at the till and they did look every bit as colourful, decorous  and tasty as their hispanic cousins on the menu. The pancakes – not too thin, but not too thick – were perfectly dressed with yoghurt, fruit and granola. It looked so good, that were a smaller portion available, it would be a fine follow-up to the savoury splendour of the dishes above. Or you could fill any gaps with one of the glistening cakes or buns that are at the counter, ready to oblige should your will power fail you (and whose wouldn’t, frankly?) The full ‘English’ looks equally splendid, and having enjoyed food from Jesse Smith’s butchers shop, I feel I might be on pretty safe ground vouching for that as well.

All in all, there is little not to like about Jesse Smith’s Farm Shop. From the eclectic furniture choices to the cosmopolitan menu, this is a place where you can do breakfast properly and with a difference. With the usual gamut of hot drinks available it does have all you need. There is a small exception to this, and that is the coffee, which I find to be quite harsh and lacking in just a touch of care. The reason I call this out with Jesse Smith’s Farm Shop in particular (after all, they’re hardly alone as an eatery serving average-at-best coffee) is that Rave Coffee is just up the road where the beans are not only available,  they’re actually roasted there. The cognitive dissonance of this is something that jars. We are lucky to have two excellent coffee outlets in Cirencester, but as yet none come with breakfast, and while I hardly suffered through the pot of light and fragrant green tea, I can’t deny that I found myself wanting a nice clean hit of filtered coffee or an espresso chaser to be part of what was an excellent excellent breakfast.

The location may seem odd, the views uninspiring to anyone but a 90s brutalist architecture buff, there is plenty to recommend the Jesse Smith Farm Shop, firstly as a shop, but also – and most definitely – as a prime breakfast destination. Alongside Rave and Dolcetti just a few steps up the road, Jesse Smith’s makes quite a nice little gastronomic enclave in an area where you’d least expect it. It is certainly well off the tourist – or even the casual Saturday shopper -track, but if you happen to be visiting the town on a weekday or weekend and are in need of coffee, ice cream or a delicious breakfast or brunch, head on up to Love Lane (yes let’s call it that, rather than just the industrial estate).

 

Made By Bob The Deli

Deli spin-off of one of Cirencester’s best loved eateries.

Made by Bob is an institution in Cirencester, so much so that when the restaurant closed for refurbishment last year, it was instantly missed. While closed, up sprung The Deli whence, happily, we could all still retire to get our Bob fix of the fine salads, charcuterie and cakes. The restaurant has of course now reopened, but The Deli has remained, and that is unquestionably a good thing. Now, if all you fancy is tea and cake or a light bite to eat, you can do so in much more apposite surroundings, rather than contending with diners who are in the mood for a more genuinely lunch experience.

The menu at Made by Bob the Deli retains the Mediterranean influences of its restaurant sibling.

You lose none of the quality of experience in The Deli that you enjoyed in the restaurant; indeed with a frontage actually exposed to oodles of natural light instead of being sequestered in the Corn Hall, the aspect is arguably better, particularly for what is a casual eatery. And when the sun comes out it gets even better still, and you can enjoy your food al fresco or while basking behind those enormous plate glass windows watching the Corinium world go by. The menu, too, is as light, sun-kissed (as much as it can be) and Mediterranean, staying close to that of its restaurant sibling with, among other things, immambayeldi, Greek salad, olives and much more to tempt one with. While the setting, even with the sun out, will never come close to anywhere on the Med., the menu and locale team up to provide one with a very decent spot to have lunch.

The salads remain as fresh, varied and as enticing as ever, with combinations of ingredients that have you at times salivating at the mere thought of eating them. The paninis and sandwiches are a nice option too, again with fillings that are generous, and alive with flavour. Made By Bob is known for its use of quality ingredients, and it always shows, from the everyday to the more exotic. This of course extends to the sweeter end of the menu spectrum as well, with pastries and cakes that are so light and emollient you don’t know whether to eat them or plump them up further to lay your head upon.

Drinks are good too. There are decent espresso-based coffee drinks made with good coffee, although don’t expect flavours at the level of Rave or Cotswold Artisan Coffee. This is not a criticism; this is still good coffee with a distinct flavour, but the evidently darker roast does have a more linear flavour. If you like tea, more precisely green tea, then this is the place: the green tea at Made by Bob has always been, to my mind, the best green tea in town. Scented with a hint – just hint, nothing cloying – of wild strawberries and pink pepper corns, it is delightful, whether lightening the palate mid-summer, or taking off the chill of our now-all-too-common perma-autumn days. We have not tried the freshly made smoothies, but the flavour combinations, when you read them, make abundant sense and are likely equally full of flavour.

In short, Made By Bob The Deli is a welcome addition – if ‘addition’ is the right word – to the town centre. The quality has not diminished with the absence of formality, and having an outside area and some good daylight pouring through the windows is really very pleasant. While we didn’t expect it to stay, we are unequivocally glad it has.

Blue Zucchini

​The boho vibe that embraces you as you enter the Blue Zucchini brasserie makes you want to sing Bob Marley and Stevie Wonder songs out loud and dance around carefree in colourful clothing. Or maybe I just had a strong espresso last time I was there.

Joking aside, the atmosphere at ‘Blu Zu’ is part of the reason we keep going back for more. Helped, of course, by smiley and energetic staff, good background music, singular – though undoubtedly fun – decor, and to top it all, the food: good, authentic, flavoursome, no-nonsense food. From the zesty, moreish tomato soup (served with chunky bread), to the fresh and satisfying tomato and mozzarella salad – crisp leaves, tasty tomatoes and the creamiest mozzarella, finished with the perfect dressing – the food has never disappointed. The portions are generous and the choice of fresh ingredients shows up in the quality of the final product.

And for healthier (more robust) appetites the egg & chips is legendary – a simple dish that is executed well, but also one that has increasing appeal merely for the fact it is served in enamelled cast iron bowls. It sounds rudimentary, but it really works, making a dish that everyone wants to tuck in to. If you’re there slightly earlier in the day, the exceedingly hearty full-English is there for hungry parents and children alike: a fantastic brunch option.

We have spent many a happy hour observing the comings and goings – plenty of cyclists visit this place en route for a well earned break, a giant pot of tea and a large helping of one of the delicious home-made cakes (I recommend the coffee & walnut and the Victoria sponge!!). Another particular favourite is the treacle tart; made with lemon zest which sets off the richness and sweetness, it goes down very well with a hot cup of tea. It is one of life’s little pleasures to enjoy, sitting out the front and watching the Cotswold world go by.

Back to that decor, though. This really is one of the reasons we like Blue Zucchini. The walls are covered with interesting magazine cuttings, graffiti and memorabilia a lot of which dates back so far, it is almost achingly back on trend. It all conspires to keep you entertained and sparking new topics of conversation – be warned though, that you will have to explain to the kids that the round plastic discs on the wall are not large CDs but actual vinyl records. In the summer you can sit out the back in the yard, surrounded by pot plants and flower climbers, savouring one of the delicious milkshakes – the kids just love them. The whole place has a very particular charm, one to which we succumb willingly and frequently. For brunch, lunch, or afternoon tea, it always seems to have something you want.