Today I forget the history …. and celebrate the green bean

Well, I say forget the history but that’s not likely and anyway I bet there is a long and fascinating book on green beans through the ages.

And at 76 I have pretty much lived with the vegetable all my life.  Nana cooked them with cloves, but then she also added cloves to peas and apple sauce.  Fine until you bit into one.

As a student I would mix and match meals rotating tins of green beans with tins of peas and baked beans in the spirit of that now much advertised message of five a day.

Today with time on my hands, I have returned to that simple approach to cooking which favours fresh over tinned making food from scratch and avoiding the much-maligned processed word.

Not forgetting those two other twin requirements of using seasonal produce and avoiding waste.

All of which brings back to my green beans which are in season through July into September, and the leftover pile I cooked yesterday.

Our cookbooks groan with heaps of recipes for serving them up and my own favourite is simple and quick.

Having already cooked the beans they are added to a tomato sauce, which is then warmed through and then allowed to cool.

As with so many dishes they are best eaten the following day allowing all the flavours to mingle and develop.

And here I know there will be people who make point to what I have left out  with suggestions of what I should put in, but in the end, it is just down what’s available and what you fancy on the day.

That said a trawl of recipies threw up another favourite which mixes green beans with pesto, potatoes and pasta. 

And one that I think the jury is still out on which is Green bean casserole.  It’s popular in the US as a side dish served at the Thanksgiving meal and consists of  adding  green beans, mushroom soup, milk, soy sauce, ground black pepper, and crisp fried onions.

My Wikipedia tells me it was created by “Dorcas Reilly in 1955 while working in the home economics department at the Campbell's Soup Company in Camden, New Jersey.  

The recipe was created for a feature article for the Associated Press; the requirement was for a quick and easy dish using ingredients most US households kept on hand.”* 

I rather think I would prefer to go even simpler, and sauté the beans with some garlic. 

And that is it.

Pictures; my green beans

*Green bean casserole, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_bean_casserole

When Harold married Alma in the April of 1928 at Dartford

I am looking at two images which are now 90 years old.

This was the wedding celebrations of Harold Morris and Alma Minnie Shove in April 1928.

We all have pictures like this but many of them will be undated and long ago the identities of those staring back at us will have been forgotten as have the events surrounding the image.

Now even if I didn’t know some of the people and couldn’t place them in the first half of the last century they do have a fascination and an importance.

Part of this is because photographs like this so rarely see the light of day and if they do it is limited to a close set of family and friends.

What of course strikes you first off are the clothes including those above the knee dresses, soon to fall a few inches as the 1930s came along.

And then there is the half hidden garden and house a reminder that most weddings for people like Harold and Alma ended back at the house.

But even here there are questions that we might never know or have an answer to, like the name and age of the elderly woman in the corner of the second picture. I rather think she will be in her 70s or perhaps older, and so her presence takes us back to the late 1850s.

A time almost as remote from Harold and Alma’s experiences as 1928 is to us.

It is just possible that this lady may have walked to her wedding, that amongst the guests would have been those who could remember reading the stories of the old Queen’s wedding in 1840, and more than a few whose parents had talked of the rejoicing of the news of the allied victory at Waterloo and the shock they felt at hearing of the death of Lord Nelson.

And in the same way looking back at that April of 1928 is to see a totally different landscape. Alma might have been 23 years old but it would be another four months before Parliament voted to extend the franchise to her and a full year before she vote in a general election.

That general election in the May of 1929  was dubbed the flapper election marking as it did the first time that women of Alma’s age and class could help determine the next government of this country.

Nor is that all for if the newlyweds had wanted to dance to record music it would have been via a wind up gramophone, many of the films they might have watched would still have been silent ones and many such couples could only hope to aspire to one of those new and clean electric cooker.

So bring on these old family photographs.

Location; Eltham, London

Picture’s from the collection of Jean Gammons

Lost and forgotten streets of Manchester ................ nu 53 Silver Street, a bus station and some nasty history

Now this is Chorlton Street Bus Station in the 1960s and the image presents a bit of mystery, but more of that later.

Chorlton Street Bus Station, 1964

For now it is that gap between the office block and the ramp to the right of the picture and Chorlton Street which gave its name to the bus station which interests me.

That gap was the continuation of Silver Street.

You can still walk down Silver Street from Aytoun Street which ran on to David Street but my bit has vanished.

Back in the 1850s Silver Street and its neighbours were a warren of small closed courts leading off narrow alleys and filled with small back to back houses.

They were not perhaps the worst the city had to offer but they were neither the best.  In his case notes during the cholera outbreak of 1832, Dr Gaultier offers up a a vivid picture of the area. Chorlton Street he wrote “was tolerably clean and open but the vicinity crowded and populous.”*

Silver Street, 1849

But the home of the Bullock family was dire.

Mr and Mrs Bullock lived in one room with their two children and Mr Bullock’s mother.

The room was on the upper storey of a “filthy and crowded house” and was equally as “filthy.”

Even before they contracted cholera none were seen to be in good health and baby Martha aged eight months was “ricketty, and emaciated.”

In the course of just one week all of them died of cholera.

A month later our doctor was back in Silver Street attending Jane White who lived in a cellar and who died just days after contracting the disease.

Today Chorlton Street and Silver Street look far removed from the mass of courts, alleys and crowded houses of 1832 and that stretch of Silver Street occupied by Jane White is now underneath Chorlton Street Bus Station.

And here is the puzzle with that first picture, because read the histories of the bus station and they all agree that it was opened in 1950, redesigned in 1967 with the addition of the multi story car park and went through a major rebuild in 2002.

Major Street and the lost Silver Street, 1963

Now all of that is fine, but the caption on the picture offers up a date of 1964 which means that somebody is wrong.

I am confident someone will offer an explanation for the date of the rebuilt bus station and while I wait I suggest that those wishing to walk the past can just step back into the past can get a stab at it, because that vanished bit of Silver Street is now the entrance to a small car park between the back of Yates’ and the car park ramp, while the small road that runs along the bus station is the continuation of Major Street, but that is for another time.

Silver Street, 2016

But that is not quite all, because soon after I posted the story Andy Roberston sent me this picture of the corner of Silver Street where it joins Princess Street.

In may haste to complete the story I had failed to go looking for any more of Silver Street.  So the intrepid seeker after lost streets of Manchester can walk along another bit of my street, although it does end in a car park.

Location; Manchester

*The Origin and Progress of the Malignant Cholera in Manchester, Henry Gaulter M.D., 1833case notes no 5-8, page 162 and nu 71, page 178

Pictures; Chorlton Street Bus Station,  W. Higham, 1964, m56893, the ramp under construction 1963, W. Higham, m56982, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass  Silver Street from Andy Robertson  2016, and detail of Silver Street 1849 from the OS map of Manchester & Salford, 1849, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/

Crossing in to Stretford in the winter of 1857

Sometimes it is so easy to become parochial and so today I decided to reflect on how things were at the end of Edge Lane, over the Duke’s Canal in Stretford.

The writer Edwin Muir came in the winter of 1857, travelling from the heart of the city by train along a railway which was just eight years old.

It was a journey of contrasts.

Leaving “the huge manufacturies, and the miserable chimney tops of Little Ireland, down by the dirty Medlock; we ran over a web of dingy streets, swarming with dingy people............  left the black stagnant canal, coiled in the hollow, stretching its dark length into the distance , like some slimy  snake.”*  

And clearing the “cotton mills, and dye works, and chemical manufactories of Cornbrook,”    the train entered open countryside before arriving at Stretford station which had been built in 1849 and on leaving that station Muir saw  a “great tract of meadows, gardens and pasture land.”   

Stretford like Chorlton was by the 1840s and 50s  pouring its agricultural produce into the city.  In 1845 over 500 tons of farm produce were coming by road into the City each week from Stretford.**  

These carts were piled high with fruit and vegetables of which rhubarb was a particularly profitable crop.  The carts left Stretford just after midnight for the markets and while one family member remained to sell the produce the rest returned with the cart loaded with manure reading to repeat the operation the following day.  

This prompted one observer to describe the place as “the garden of Lancashire.”***  

And it had become  a major centre for the processing of pigs for the Manchester market as well the manufacture of black puddings and had gained the nicknames of Swineopolis and Porkhampton.  

During the 1830's, between 800 and 1,000 pigs were slaughtered each week and sent into the city.****  

Most came from Ireland, via Liverpool and were transported into Stretford by barge.  On arrival the pigs were kept in cotes kept by the local landlords.

The Trafford Arms charged one penny per pig a night and had cotes for 400 pigs.*****    Not surprisingly in 1834 there were 31 pork butchers in Stretford compared to one in Chorlton and five in Urmston.  

It was also he wrote all “fruit, flowers, green market stuff, black puddings, and swine’s flesh in general – these are the pride of village.”  

And he was also full of praise for both the black puddings and the local speciality known as the Stretford goose.  This was made from pork stuffed with sage and onions, which he thought “was not a bad substitute for that pleasant bird.”  

So, Stretford had much going for it and in the late 1840s and 1850s with a population which was already about six times larger than ours so I rather think I shall continue with Stretford travels, and in the fullness of time, “Pick up the package and travel post haste to Castlefield along the Duke’s Canal”  explore asking for “parish relief from the overseer of St Mathew’s”  as well taking a fresh look at the Kickety Brook and maybe just gawping at the fine houses along Edge Lane on the way home to Chorlton.

Pictures; detail from the OS map of Lancashire, 1841-53, courtesy of Digital Archives, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/


*Muir, Edwin, Lancashire Sketches, Alexander Ireland & Co  Manchester p
  **Scola, Roger, Feeding the Victorian City, Manchester University, Manchester,
  ***Leech, Sir Bosdin, Old Stretford, Privately Printed 1910

  ****Cliff, Karen & Masterton, Vicki, Stretford: An Illustrated History

  *****Brundrett, Charles, Brundrett Family Chronicle The Book Guild

Happy Birthday …. The Edge Theatre at 15 … and still the best

If you haven’t joined the party, there is still time.

It’s been going on since 11 this morning and will continue with heaps of events into the evening.

Now I have written about The Edge Theatre over the years* and still can’t better their own description that “since opening in 2011, our beautiful venue has entertained, captivated and enthralled audiences with some of the best small scale touring theatre in the country, alongside our own productions made by our wonderful in-house creatives.

Over the years we’ve worked with hundreds of fantastic actors and musicians; many are professional, some have learning disabilities, some have experience of homelessness, some are from our local community and all of them are brilliant!

As theatre makers we delight in creating shows which reflect the world that we live in, even if we’ve set them on the moon. They’re honest, relevant and always full of hope.

As leaders in participation we provide a range of exciting opportunities for people to be creative. At The Edge you can Act, Sing, Dance, play the Ukulele, Write, Paint, Draw or just be. Our café is known as one of the most friendly and welcoming in Chorlton!

Whether you’re a professional or community artist, a newcomer to the world or a veteran of it, participant or audience member, The Edge is your theatre and arts centre in Manchester.”**

Enough said ….. when I came away at 2 the rain hadn’t stopped the fun and the party was in full swing with a jam-packed day of live music, DJs, family entertainment, and creative workshops, with a few surprises.

Location; The Edge’s Birthday bash down at Manchester Road

Pictures; from the Edge today, 2026, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*The Edge Theatre, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/The%20Edge%20Theatre%20Company

*The Edge Theatre and Arts Centre, https://www.edgetheatre.co.uk/

Treasures from Southern Cemetery ……………..

Now there is a lot to say about Southern Cemetery and over the years I have done my fair share.*

Memorial to Satinik Kouyoumjian, 2013

It was opened in 1879, is still a municipally run cemetery which is the largest in Britain and the second largest in Europe.

Battered but still doing the biz, 2026

And like all those other Victorian public cemeteries, it is more than just a burial place.  

It is a place rich in history from the monuments of the great and good to the humbler gravestones, each with a story of which the inscriptions are clues to much more about the lives of those interred here.

Added to the reminders of those past lives there is an abundance of nature, from mature and not so mature trees to the abundance of wildlife.

For the Corporation who bought the 100-acre site in 1872 the grand plan was thwarted by drainage issues which put a hold on proceedings and involved the construction of a sewer to the river Mersey which was two miles away. **

It was indeed a very necessary project give than “water stood throughout the ground at about three below the surface and permeated the substratum of sand down to the clay about 15 feet deep”. *** 

Nor was this all because the in constructing the chapels workmen had to dig down to the clay levels and then build concrete piers and brick arches for the foundations to rest on.

Waiting for a paint job, 2026

All of which makes me ponder on the sagacity of the landowners who sold off the 100 acres, especially as a cursory glance of maps from the 1840s and 1850s show a fair a fair number of ponds and culverted water courses.

It's all in the detail, 2026

Outside the Jewish Cemetery, Southern Cemetery 2026

But enough of such doom and disappointment.

The civil engineering scheme was completed, the chapels built and the citizens of Manchester signed up for their little bit of eternal rest.

And now one hundred and forty-seven years later there is much to see, and on Monday after attending a funeral I took a walk and recorded some fine examples the railings that abut the wall of the cemetery running along Barlow Moor Road from the Crematorium all the way to Princess Parkway.

Like many I rarely even noticed them, but they are well worth looking at and remarkably despite layers of peeling paint they are in good condition.

Which is all I want to say.

Location; Southern Cemetery

Pictures; Memorial to Satinik Kouyoumjian, 2013, and those bits of iron, 2026, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Southern Cemetery, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/Southern%20Cemetery & The Quirks of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Andrew Simpson, and Peter Topping, 2017

**The New Manchester Cemetery, The Manchester Guardian, May 23rd 1879

***ibid, The New Manchester Cemetery

The Isle of Wight August 1970 ......... a concert and a lesson in what to remember for Chris and Marisa

Now just for once I am not going to let the facts get in the way of the story which is another way of saying that I would rather keep my imperfect memories of the Isle of Wight Festival in the summer of 1970 pristine. 

The concert with the hill behind, 1970

The alternative would be to allow reality to spoil what I have remembered for 54 years.

It was a weekend and the four of us were all pretty bored.

The prospect of another night in the pub didn’t appeal and so there and then around seven in the evening we took off from London with sleeping bags, a change of underwear and headed south.

We arrived at Portsmouth, waited I guess till morning and then after the crossing joined shed loads of others on their way to the music.

I am not sure any of us knew what to expect, and had not even thought about the entrance fee.
As it turned out there was a hill overlooking the concert area and to my eternal shame we sat there and watched the music for free.

The line-up I am told included Jimi Hendrix, Miles Davis, Jethro Tull, Ten Years After, Chicago, The Doors, Lighthouse, The Who Emerson, Lake & Palmer, The Moody Blues, Joan Baez, Free, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Kris Kristofferson, Donovan, John Sebastian, Terry Reid, Taste, and Shawn Phillips.

And of these I can remember but a few and if I am very honest only the Doors stand out.

In 1970 .......

The reasons for such a lapse of memory are unclear, but I fell a sleep listening to the Doors.

That said it was magical, because as dusk gave way to night hundreds of camp fires had been lit across the hill.  I would like to think that as the fires burned the Doors played “Light my fire” but I have no idea.

We left the following day missed Jimi Hendrix but felt relieved that we had avoided the mud and gunge which was the area around the lavatories.

So I have to say I came away with no revelations of spiritual awareness, and not even much of a memory of the music.

In the years afterwards I discovered four colleagues I worked with and another half dozen acquittances were also there but again to my shame I never shared the fact that we stayed for just one day and one night.

And all of this, because two of my Canadian cousins were impressed at my casual reference to the adventure, which in turn has made me come clean.

Location; the Isle of Wight Concert, 1970

Pictures; at the Festival, 1970, Roland Godefroy,who granted permission to use the image  under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License, Version 1.2 and me in 1970 from the collection of Andrew Simpson