Remembering the 1970s at Valentines on Barlow Moor Road

Now the 1970s come in for a fair amount of derision which I am not sure is fair.

It was like any other decade of the 20th century good and bad, happy and sad.

I have a bit of a fond spot for it.  I may have grown up in the “swinging 60s” but it was the following decade when I passed into adulthood, graduated, got a job and got married collecting a mortgage along the way.

So in terms of “rights of passage” I reckon the 70s may well be my decade.

Added to which despite all the fun and new horizons the swinging 60s didn’t always extend to my bit of south east London.

And if you wanted to make a claim for the decade that separated us from the past you might well go for sometime in the middle 1950s, when rationing came finally to an end, the consumer society really took off and there were a shed full of new ideas, styles, and music.

But then again my mum may well have made the same claims for the late 1930s and my dad for the decade before that.

So I shall just reflect on the newspaper advert that set me going.

It was sent to me by Graham Gill and perfectly shows off one side of the 1970s.

Here is the "Exotic Revue 1976" at Valentines on Barlow Moor Road.  “A TASTEFUL MIXTURE OF GIRLS, GLAMOUR , COMEDY with “MAN IN MIND”

And the rest I shall leave for people to read and await the comments and of course I shall also thank Graham whose collection I am in awe of.

Picture; Valentines, 1976 from the collection of Graham Gill

Eltham from the pen of Llwyd Roberts ....... nu 5

Now I am a great fan of the work of Mr Llwyd Roberts.

He was during the 1930s our artist in residence and during that time produced a heap of line drawings of Eltham and the surrounding area.

Some were reproduced from old photographs while others  were as he saw them at the time.

This is the old Rising Sun which according to Mr Roberts "this old building stood for two centuries on the  site now occupied by the L.E.B. showrooms.  When it was demolished the Rising Sun rose again to the east, on its present site."


Picture; The Rising Sun, 1930, Llwyd Roberts

Didsbury Walks ..... part 1 Parrs Wood

A short series exploring a collection of walks  across Didsbury from east to west, starting at  Parrs Wood.

Parrs Wood House and estate, 1853

Now even the most avid supporter of Parrs Wood might well concede that the junction of Wilmslow Road and Kingsway is a bewildering mix of cluttered signs, busy traffic and a rather ugly box which is the entertainment centre.

But it was not always so. Until almost the beginning of the last century the area was still open land, dominated by an elegant 18^th century house set in a large estate.

This was Parrs Wood House and according to one source the estate changed little from the 1790s through to 1960.

Go back to say the 1820s, and this spot might have seemed very attractive to a casual visitor to Didsbury who took a fancy to stroll along Wilmslow Road from the direction of the parish church with the intention of crossing the river at the Cheadle Bridge.

As now, the road would have taken a sharp turn to the south as it passed Parrs Wood House, but even given the height of the estate wall, she would have had a view of the building and had she then ventured into the grounds, there was more than a few interesting features.

Parrs Wood House, 1970

These included the stables, the kitchen garden, the fruit wall, glass houses and the homes of some of the staff.  And for those fascinated with 18^th century gardens, there was a ha-ha, which consisted of a ditch and wall which acted as a barrier preventing livestock from entering the garden from the estate but gave anyone looking out from the garden the illusion of an unbroken, continuous rolling lawn.

Sadly, it disappeared in 1970, when the ditch was filled with the spoil from nearby building work which resulted in the loss of a colony of lizards who had made their home in the south facing wall.

Location; Parrs Wood

Picture; Parrs Wood, 1853, from the OS for Lancashire, 1841-53, courtesy of Digital Archives Association, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/   Parrs Wood House, 1970, m21314, courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council, http://images.manchester.gov.uk/index.php?session=pass

When history collides with the kitchen ……recreating the 80 years old recipe ..... cooking from home no. 4

The challenge is a simple one.

Take a handful of ingredients from the kitchen and come up with a favourite meal, while at the same time exploring its history. *

Now, always wanting that challenge, I decided to try again and make some homemade orange curd, and to make it just that bit more interesting, the recipe dated back to 1947, and came from a Ministry of Food leaflet.

These leaflets were issued regularly and covered everything from how best to make rationed food go further, to suggestions on where to forage for free surplus food in the hedgerows, and advice on cooking a range of foods, along with plenty of recipes.

Despite the end of the war two years earlier, there were still food shortages and war time rationing continued, and at times became more stringent.

So, having been given a collection of these leaflets I do from time to time dip into them to reflect on life in post war Britain nearly eighty years ago.

And that brings me back to my orange curd, which is something we buy occasionally, spread on toast and even use to make tarts.

What made me curious about the Ministry of Food recipe were the ingredients, which included dried eggs which were common during the war, and clearly lingered on in to 1947, and the quantity of sugar, which was 4oz, when the weekly ration for a person was 4oz.

All of which just left me with recreating that eighty years old mix of oranges, sugar, eggs, and margarine.

And the result?……………. I think the jury is out.

It is perhaps too sweet, and the after taste of orange is all too powerful, but it is my bit of rescue archaeology, even if we are talking about a moment still within the lifetime of many of my friends.

Location; 1947 & 2019

Pictures; my 1947 orange curd from the collection of Andrew Simpson and Ministry of Food Cookery Calendar, December- January, 1946-47

*When history collides with the kitchen,  https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/When%20history%20collides%20with%20the%20kitchen

Mrs. Clara Nicholson of Chorlton ……. the mile of pennies ……. and a Disaster Appeal

“In the Russian famine we are witnessing the most terrible devastation that has afflicted the world for centuries.

"Hordes of starving disease infected people have left their homes" 1921

It is estimated that 35 million people will require relief.  I am sorry to say that such news as we have received points to a most appalling catastrophe”.*

The words could have come from any one of several celebrities or journalists looking to camera and reporting on a human disaster against a background of moving and awful images of starving people.

But not so, they come from the Manchester Guardian reporting on the appalling famine that was ravaging Russia in the summer of 1921.

And in the face of that famine thousands of people were on the move.  Some were heading towards Turkestan, others to Siberia and more to Poland in the knowledge that there were “no food supplies and no shelter and they are doomed to annihilation.  Of these migratory bodies only some 20 per cent are able bodied and MORE THAN 30 PER CENT. ARE CHILDREN. The condition of these last is piteous.  Many of them have been abandoned to their parents.  The people are eating grass, roots and other rubbish”. **

Now my Wikipedia tells me “The Russian famine of 1921–1922, also known as the Povolzhye famine, was a severe famine in the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic which began early in the spring of 1921 and lasted through 1922. This famine killed an estimated 5 million people, primarily affecting the Volga and Ural River regions.”***

The mile of pennies, 1921

Reading the Manchester Guardian’s coverage I am struck by the depth of the crisis, and how contemporary were the appeals for help, particularly for The Save the Children Fund, which produced a series of films about the famine and the wider relief problems across Europe.

Here in Britain people were encouraged to send subscriptions responding the simple appeal “Send what you can ‘All you can- Today!”

And individuals and groups looked to the imaginative ways they could raise money and that has led me back to Mrs. Clara Nicholson of Chorlton who along with others set out to raise £220 by making a “mile of pennies”.  

The event took part on October 30th, 1921, in the waiting room of the former tram office on Barlow Moor Road, because the location was a busy spot on a Sunday afternoon.

And just like modern fund-raising activities the committee had invited the Lady Mayoress to take part, personalizing the appeal by specifying “Twenty four pennies will keep one Russian child for a week and so every step in that 'proposed mile' would bring hope and happiness where there is only despair."****

One of the members of that committee was Mrs. Clara Nicholson of Gilbrook Edge Lane, and as you do I went looking for her.

Chorlton Tram Office, circa 1920/30s

And in 1921 I found her at Gilbrook which was number 10 Edge Lane, married to James Nicholson, who was a clothing manufacture with works at Worsley Street in Hulme.

Sadly their home on Edge Lane had vanished by 1933, but I did come across their house on Wilbraham Road close to Blair Road where they had lived a decade earlier.

As yet that is about it, and the trail goes dead.

There is a Clara Nicholson living on “private means” in Oldham in 1939, but that is about it, which is a shame because I would like to know more about her charity work.

But someone may offer up more.

We shall see.

Location; Chorlton

Pictures, Cartoon and description of the mile of pennies, 1921, the tram office with waiting room, circa 1920s-30s from the Lloyd Collection

*The Most Terrible Devastation that has Afflicted the world for Centuries., Manchester Guardian, August 28th, 1921

**ibid, Manchester Guardian, August 28th, 1921

*** Russian famine of 1921–1922, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_famine_of_1921%E2%80%931922

***From Chorlton-cum-Hardy to the Volga Valley, Manchester Guardian, October 20th, 1921

Hard won elections ……. and disappointing results ….. Manchester …. 1894-98

It is of course an obvious observation that political fortunes wax and wane, and the mould breaking gains of one year become the pit of electoral despair the following year.

ILP logo, 1893-1975

And so it was with the Independent Labour Party, which shortly after its formation won two seats in the 1894 elections to Manchester City Council.  The real significance of which was that they were the first two Labour councillors.

In what were fiercely fought contests in which the Conservative were not above using scare tactics, the ILP won the Bradford and Openshaw wards.  In Bradford John Edward Sutton took 54% of the vote, and in Openshaw Jessie Butler gained a narrow majority with 50% of the total vote.

Across the city the ILP had put up candidates in eleven of the fifteen seats and in total  got just over 10,000 votes, coming a decent second in Harpurhey, racking up an impressive 1,261 in New Cross and four figure results in another six wards, with only St John’s falling below the trend with just 83 votes.

ILP share of the vote, 1895

But anyone who follows local elections  will know that there can be wide variations from one year to the next, and the fortunes of the ILP  prove testimony to the rule.

In 1895, they contested just five of the 15 seats, gained none and returned shares of the total vote ranging from 37% in Harpurhey down to 11% in Miles Platting, while in Bradford they sank to just 21% and in Openshaw got a marginally better 26%.

And while they contested more seats in the following  year, achieving four figure results in five of the seven wards, it would not be until 1897 that ILP candidates were returned.

ILP & SDF results, 1897

In Bradford, John Edward Sutton was reelected, and was joined by another ILP candidate in Harpurhey, and a member of Social Democratic Federation in St George’s Ward.

Of course, what is missing from these elections results is the politics behind them, and to judge the significance of what happened you have to fall back on the national as well as the local scene to provide a context.

And that I have yet to do.

But the victories in 1894 were in part a response to the way the ILP had organized in the working-class areas in the city and in particular to the bitter coal strike in 1893 which commentators at the time thought was decisive in the ILP gaining Bradford and Openshaw, many of whose electors worked at Bradford Colliery, and who also identified with Mr. Sutton and Mr. Butler who were miners.

John Edward Sutton, date unknown

Equally we know that in 1878 which saw the election of the two ILP and one SDF councilor, local factors came into play.  In the case of Bradford, John Edward Sutton was a respected councillor who was defending his seat, and was reelected but with a reduced share of the vote.

In Harpurhey the ILP had achieved consistent good results over the previous two years, and in Openshaw Jessie Butler who failed to regain his seat lost because the Labour vote was split.

Mr. Butler according to the Manchester Guardian “came out this time simply on Labour lines, having severed his connection with the Independent Labour Party for various reason, and had to meet the opposition of many of his old supporters and the solid body of Conservatives”.*

And while the ILP did not put up a candidate, he achieved just 40% of the vote.

I wish there were more local detail but that will have to wait till Iam next in Central Ref  and I can look through the local media, which  I am confident will provide the background to what was happening in the city between 1894 and 1897 and is also a nudge to me to delve deeper into the national political scene.

For now, that is it.

Pictures; logo of the ILP, 1893-1975, John Edward Sutton date unknown, election results from the Manchester Guardian, 1894-98

*The Municipal Elections, The Manchester Guardian, November 2nd, 1897

When history collides with the kitchen …… missing out the shepherd from Shepherd’s Pie ..... cooking from home no. 3

 The challenge is a simple one.

Take a handful of ingredients from the kitchen and come up with a favourite meal, while at the same time exploring its history. *

There will be those who debate with ferocious tenacity the differences between a dish made with minced beef or minced lamb and which both are finished off with a mashed potato topping.

Now, as a vegetarian the distinction is pretty much an irrelevance to me, but names are important and I am never one to scorn meat eaters, which alas is not always their reaction to my lifestyle choice.

But sticking with the traditional two, my Wikipedia tells me that the first references to both appear in the late eighteenth century, with a variation in Scotland using slices of meat and in other places mutton and even pork. *  

And a roundup of modern cooks shows some of them loosely use both names for the same dish while others will happily substitute different animals from beef to lamb to pork  and fall back on leftovers from a roast as well as  buying new.

Added to which the first published vegetarian offering dates from the late 19th century.

None of which is surprising given that all of them owe their origins I suspect to that simple household requirement never to waste food, which in turn demands that leftovers are represented in different ways to ring the changes, and to make them go further add bulking ingredients like mashed potato.

So, in our house I have used up left over veg cooked in a tomato, or cheese sauce and topped with mashed potato or mixed them altogether and fried in a pan which I admit becomes a hash rather than a pie.

And one of our Ben’s favourites substituted the leftover veg with sliced red cabbage a mix of herbs and spices which I fried with tomatoes and onions and topped with the mashed potato.

More recently I have used Quorn mince which has less to do with replicating real meat and just that it is an easy thing to add.

But I do try to avoid any processed food and so usually cook down some lentils which with the veg become the filling.

As for the cooking it’s just a matter of filling the dish with the veg/Quorn/cooked lentils, seasoning and topping with mashed potato.

Location; our kitchen

Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson, 2026

*When history collides with the kitchen,   https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/search/label/When%20history%20collides%20with%20the%20kitchen

**Shepherd’s Pie, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shepherd%27s_pie

Wishing you well ........... postcards from Woolwich, Greenwich and Eltham for the summer ..... nu 3 Plumstead

A short series with few words looking at the postcards we sent from Woolwich, Greenwich and Eltham.

Our card was sent from Charlton on Sunday August 3 in the last summer before the Great War to a Mrs Greensmith of 14 Greening Street Abbey Wood.  The sender left their name off the card, but they were pleased that “Mrs G” had sent some kind letters and were sorry that “you couldn’t get a trap they are spoken for.” 

Sill it had been “a lovely day” and there was an invitation for Mrs G to come down any tine.

Location; Plumstead, circa 1913,

Picture; Plumstead, circa 1913, Tuck and Sons, courtesy of Tuck DB, https://tuckdb.org/

When history collides with the kitchen …… cooking from home no. 2

The challenge is a simple one.

Take a handful of ingredients from the kitchen and come up with a favourite meal, while at the same time exploring its history.*

So, the ingredients are some tomatoes, a handful of olives and capers and an option on a bit of garlic.

Gently fry the tomatoes with a good dollop of olive oil adding some tomato puree with salt and pepper  until everything is soft and a golden red colour, add the olives and capers and continue cooking for a tad longer.

Then as they say in all cookbooks …. “set the sauce to one side, boil a pan of salted water, add the pasta and cook till it’s ready”.

Mother would employ that age old test of fishing out a strand of pasta and throwing it at the wall, telling me "if it stuck then the pasta was cooked"..  

I have to say it was spectacular but never worked.  

True the pasta did sometimes stick but it didn’t guarantee it was ready and just left a mess on the wall. 

Far easier just to take a piece let it cool and bite into it.

Once the pasta is ready just add it to the sauce, warm through and serve it straight away.

Finishing off with more black pepper.

My Wikipedia tells me that pasta with olives and capers most resembles “Spaghetti alla puttanesca invented in the Italian city of Naples in the mid-20th century, typically made with tomatoes, olives, capers, anchovies, garlic, chili pepper, and extra virgin olive oil".**

That said the same article explores in more depth the history qualifies its place of origin and suggests that while there is one variation from the region of Lazio, the Neapolitan version omits the anchovies.

I like Wikipedia did go to my copy of Silver Spoon that bible of Italian cuisine which boasts 2000 recipes and couldn’t find my dish.***

But as I often observe there is no uniform way to cook and present most dishes, which are influenced by regional variations, the availability of ingredients and the whim of the individual cook.

Now given that I love the food of southern Italy the chances are that I picked up the basic idea from something I ate in a restaurant, but never being hidebound by rules and with a poor memory I guess I just came up with my pasta, olives and capers all on my own with a sideways nod to Naples.

It seems to me it goes well with spaghetti or linguine but my favourite at present is bucatini which is a long slightly thicker pasta with a hole running through it and the tube manages to catch a bit more of the sauce, adding to the pleasure.

Location; our kitchen

Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson, 2026

*When history collides with the kitchen, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2026/10/when-history-collides-with-kitchen.html

**Spaghetti alla puttanesca, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spaghetti_alla_puttanesca

***The Silver Spoon, 1950, first published in English in 2005

A bit of co-operative history in Didsbury and a picture of how we shopped in 1935

It is easy to miss the stone with its initials M&S high up on the building which includes Expo Lounge, and  Holland &Barrett.

The M&S sign, 2020

A few who do spot it might ponder on how long Marks and Spencer were located here on Wilmslow Road, before moving to their brand-new store just along from the old Police Station.

But that would be to miss that this is a bit of our co-operative past, because this block was one of the chain of shops run by the Manchester and Salford Equitable Co-operative

It was opened on November 29th, 1929, and was one of the eight they opened that year, marking a huge expansion in the idea of co-operative trading across south Manchester, and was a response to the growth in both social and private housing which characterized the years after the Great War.*

And no doubt our store was part of the new look in co-operative retail, which the Manchester Guardian reported, was “something like a revolution in the shop-fitting of Co-operative stores”.**

Out went the “heavy mouldings [and] expanses of somber mahogany”, and instead “the greengrocers radiate attraction from stainless steel baskets on white marble bases [while] the butter and bacon gain a reflected splendour from a background of white vitroline branded with green, and the counter is smooth and shining coloured glass and stainless steel”.  Added to which the refrigerator counter is “lit from outside by lights above the glass.”.

The Manchester & Salford Co-op, 2020

It all reads very familiar but must have been an eye-catching departure from what had gone before.

And in other ways the co-op shops in south Manchester along with shopping in general was markedly different when compared to other parts of the city.

A survey conducted in 1934, across six Manchester local government wards, showed very different retail experiences.  The six were, Withington, Didsbury, Blackley, Levenshulme,  Miles Platting and Medlock Street.

Didsbury retailing, 2020

They were chosen for their very different profiles, so while Withington and Didsbury were judged, “mainly residential and middle class”; Blackley and Levenshulme  were “lower middle class and artisan” and  Miles Platting and Medlock Street were seen as “mainly working class or slum, thickly populated and intersected by busy main roads, with industrial property amongst houses and tenements.”***

Not surprising “another difference between the rough divisions is that in the first the average is one house [often big], one family; the second, one house [often small], one family; the third, one house to one, two, or three families”.

The total number of shops in the six wards  was 2,869, with a higher proportion of shops in the “poorer areas”, and these often had a limited range of products when compared to Didsbury and Withington, and had a lower ratable value.

How we ate, 1935

The same shops were likely to be closer to their customers than in the more prosperous areas, and very much like today there was a greater number of fast food or convenience outlets.

So, across the six wards there were 144 shops selling “fried fish and chips, cooled meats and tripe” with the highest number in Medlock Street and Miles Platting.

Likewise second hand furniture dealers and licensed pawnbrokers which are a measure of poverty, were “not found in Withington or Didsbury, and Blackley and Levenshulme  could only produce seven, [compared] to Medlock Street where there was 18 second-hand dealers and 29 brokers and Miles Platting has 5 dealers and 17 brokers”.

But on a lighter note the survey discovered that while hairdressers and barbers were more evenly distributed, with the highest proportionate number in Medlock Street with one to every 850 people, compared to Withington which “has one to every 3,000”.

Fresh food in Didsbury, 2019

Make of that what you will.****

Location; Didsbury, and Manchester in 1935

Pictures;  The M&S shop and Oxfam Shop, Wilmlsow Road, 2020, from the collection of Andrew Simpson


*Ayres Road, Old Trafford, Green End, Burnage, Parrs Wood Road North, Burnage, Warwick Road South, Firswood, Park Estate West, Timperley, Hardy Lane, Chorlton, School Road, Sale

**The Modern Shop, In Manchester, the Manchester Guardian, June 24, 1935

***Manchester Shops, Six Ward Survey Private Trader Predominant, Striking Contrasts, Dorothy Hodge, Manchester Guardian, February 16th, 1934

***To which Dorothy Hodge concluded “the residents of Withington uses the city barber to a considerable extent.”

The shock of the new ………… Genesta Road

Now I have always liked those smallish terraced houses which are a feature of south east London.

But these four which break the mould, appeal to me.

They are on Genesta Road, just down from Plum Lane, opposite Plumcroft Primary School.

And not for the first time I have to reflect that living in Manchester makes it just that bit more difficult to pursue a story, because there is only so much you can do online, before it becomes necessary to resort to a visit to the local heritage centre, which for me would involve setting aside a couple of days.

So, until someone comes forward with some information, I am left to wonder about when they were built.

They may be the result of infill after bomb damage during the last war.  I did also think that perhaps the plot had never been built on but given that the rest of the road is dominated by those terraced houses, which while they differ slightly in their design are much of a muchness.

Either way the four are a bold statement with some interesting features, like the balconies, and the garages.

I am grateful to John King for sharing the picture and I am always pleased when he posts images from south east London, because they are always interesting.

And that is all I am going to say and shall just wait for someone to comment.

And within less than hour of posting the story, people have helped me out.  Debbie Sullivan provided me a link to a site on Modern Housing, and Phil Clarkstone found a reference to our four on Wikipedia.*

Now as everyone knows I don’t as a rule rip off other people’s research, so I suggest you follow the link to read more about 85-91 Genesta Road, leaving me just to say that they were built in 1934, and were indeed infill, taking the place of an orchard.

So, that really is it, I think.  I shall close with a thank you to John who took the picture and to Debbie and Phil, reflecting on that simple observation that history should always be a shared project.

Location; Plumstead

Picture; Genesta Road, 2019, from the collection of John King

**85-91 Genesta Road, https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/85%E2%80%9391_Genesta_Road?fbclid=IwAR3PODqYgmLbF7_R4rlTXC6kofyRL59byLDfB9WQZafU8PlgBs_-PuQTYlI

Chorlton's workhouse ............ part 2

The Chorlton Union, was resposnible for poor relief in what is now South Manchester. 

From the 1850s their workhouse was in Withington, but prior to that it was sighted in Hulme.

Hated as these Poor Law Bastilles were many people accepted that circumstance might force them to seek relief at some point in their lives.

Mr.s Sutton's Cottage, 1892

One such inmate was Thomas Taylor who was in the Withington workhouse in the April of 1861 but later was living with his daughter.

The largest group were the old. After a lifetime of hard work, struggling with low wages punctuated by periods of unemployment and ill health, many were forced into the workhouse as a last resort.

So it was for Ellen Warburton who in that April of 1861 was 98 years old and seeking assistance inside the walls of the workhouse.

Her story may be typical. She was born in the township in 1776 and retained her independence well into her 60s, running a home which she shared with her teenage grandson.

Cottages of the green

By 1851 the situation had changed, and Ellen aged 75 was living in the home of her now married grandson. A decade later the family had moved to Manchester and Ellen was in the workhouse.

 She was by now a very old woman, and the new home in John Street, Chorlton on Medlock was a one up one down terraced house inside the loop of the River Medlock, hemmed in on all sides by chemical works, timber yards, and a brewery.

The Chorlton Workhouse, Hulme, 1849

But it is only when we peel back the figures and begin to follow the Guardian’s own policy of segregating the inmates by gender that the full picture of who carried the biggest burden emerges. In the summer of 1841 the single largest group were adult women who as we have seen often entered the workhouse with children.

Many may have been there as a direct result of the emigration of their husbands. In the June of 1842 the Morning Chronicle reporting on the slump in trade wrote that “Chorlton Workhouse is filled with the wives and families of men going or have gone to America in quest of employment......Emigration is going on extensively.” This was a policy that was actively pursued by the Poor Law Commissioners with parochial aid or assistance from local landlords.

 The Commissioners reported that over 2, 000 had gone to Canada in 1841 which was an increase on the year before, and that assistance was also being given to move to Australia and New Zealand.

Chorlton, 1979

But there was also a trend of “men quitting England and procuring a passage to the United States, leaving their families to be forwarded to the country by the parish officers or private individuals.” Not unsurprisingly the Commissioners’ expressed “our strong opinion of the inexpediency of rendering the assistance to the families of persons so circumstanced which is the object of the parties to obtain the desertion of their families.”
Extract from Chorlton-cum-Hardy, A Community Transformed

Picture; The Workhouse in Hulme from the OS 1842-44, courtesy of Digital Archives Association,  Mrs Sutton’s cottage, circa 1892, and Chorlton cottages, reproduced from  photographs by Bari Sparshot 2011, and Chorlton in 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Celebrating ….. that humble but wonderful historic dish

 Potato hash comes in many varieties and will no doubt be claimed as their own by regions across Europe and beyond.

Just when the first cook added mashed potato with whatever was left over around the kitchen is I think lost in time.*

Although I bet there will be learned articles pinpointing the exact moment when that wonderful all-purpose vegetable arrived in Europe and quickly ended up in a blend of other vegetables with some meat and fried till you get that crispy golden crust.

I grew up with corned beef hash, left over Sunday beef hash and veg hash.

What they all had in common was that simple and sensible form of household management which looked to using up all the leftovers.

Now many of the recipes I have recently looked at rely on buying in a heap of ingredients to create nourishing and authentic versions of hash, while in our house it started with what ever mother or grandmother had to hand.

And that in turn pretty much meant that the finished dish as it arrived on the plate was never quite the same from one meal to the next.

So today I took yesterday’s veg Shepherd’s pie mixed it with an avocado hard up against its sell by date, threw in a couple of fried chopped tomatoes, an onion and the last of the pesto.

And for good measure added the remnants of Tuesday’s halloumi cheese with some olives.

The lot just gently cooked away until there was that crispy golden crust which announced it was ready.

The finished thing doesn’t look elegant or sophisticated and won’t win a prize for presentation, but it ticked all the boxes in that it was economical, used up all the bits and tasted good.

And that is how I remember the hash we ate.  Although as we all know other variations are available as are other definitions of what the word hash means. 

But in terms of food when I checked on the definition of the word, I discovered it just means to chop food into small pieces and usually refers to a meat and potato dish cooked till brown.

Location; the kitchen

Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson, 2026

*When history collides with the kitchen, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2026/10/when-history-collides-with-kitchen.html

Falling into the Workhouse ...part 1 the Chorlton Union and Chorlton-cum-Hardy

Reflecting on the New Poor Law and how it impacted on one small rural community 4 miles from Manchester

The Workhouse, Hulme, 1844

The Stretford Road workhouse* was in the heart of Hulme just over three miles away. For any of our people from the township this must have seemed a forbidding place. On all sides and stretching out in all directions the area was a collection of closed packed terraced houses punctuated by timber yards and cotton mills.

All of which was a long way from the fields and woodland of the township. Here the prevailing sound would be that of the many machines engaged in ceaseless noisy activity and the ever present pall of smoke from countless domestic chimneys and boiler houses.

The isolation from all that was familiar was reinforced by the harshness of the immediate surroundings. The workhouse was not meant to be a comfortable resort. For both sick and healthy inmates the regime inside the institution was bleak and austere.

The Meadows, on the edge of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, 1979

The segregation of the sexes extended from the young to the old and from the sick to those judged to be lunatics. In all there were twelve exercise yards for the 300 inmates each dedicated to a particular group where behind tall walls no man or boy could gaze on the opposite sex. This was not a new policy and was followed by the Manchester workhouse before the new poor law.

The policy of segregation was particularly hard on elderly married couples who may have spent their entire adult life together but were now forced apart. Of the 17 couples in the work house in the summer of 1841 most were in their sixties.

But it was no less hard on those with young families seeking help. They too were split up. Boys were accommodated next to the old men and girls beside the old woman while the younger men and women were housed beyond the infirmary at the back of the workhouse bordering Devonshire Street.

Twenty-four children in our workhouse had been admitted with their mothers. These mothers were mostly in their thirties or forties were there without their husband or partner and most had entered with two or more children and as we shall see they would be separated from the children they had brought into this world.

Ploughing Row Acre, 1894

What constituted a child had been set down in the original classification back in 1834. This specified that females under 16 were girls, while males below the age of 13 were treated as boys, and those under seven were regarded as a separate class.

In certain circumstances a child under seven could be left with their mother and even share her bed. Other than that mothers were supposed to have access to the child. This was easier if the child were in the same workhouse and only a possibility if it were in a different institution. As to the length of the interview this depended on the Guardians.

In all there were 66 under the age of 16 of which a full 42 were there on their own. Their ages ranged from just a few days through to 15. Some were there with siblings but most had no one except the friends they could make.

Sutton's Cottage, 1750s-1894

They would have arrived in many different ways. Some would be orphans, or deserted children, while others might be illegitimate and yet others abandoned due to a range of disabilities.

Once inside the Guardians might decide to retain an orphan under the age of sixteen if they determined that on release the child was in danger.

Well might they have abandoned all hope for in a real sense they were lost to all but the officials of the institution and even those charged with their welfare may not always have been diligent in promoting their needs.

So it was with young Mary “Penny” in November 1841, who had been abducted from a nurse girl in Hulme, left with another child a few streets away for a penny and ended in the workhouse on Stretford New Road as an orphan where she languished for eleven months.

The admission book showed no record of the baby’s entry into the workhouse and the official position was that such events were improbable. This may well have sealed her fate, but the persistence of her parents combined with the testimony of an inmate resulted in the baby’s release. It is a bizarre and unusual story but one which points up more than a hint of what could happen to those with no voice or influence.

Extract from The Story of Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Andrew Simpson, 2012, the History Press

Location; Chorlton-cum-Hardy, Hulme

Picture; The Workhouse in Hulme from the OS 1842-44, courtesy of Digital Archives, http://digitalarchives.co.uk/, the meadows, 1979, from the collection of Andrew Simpson, ploughing Row Acre, 1894, courtesy of Mr Higginbotham from the Lloyd Collection, Sutton’s Cottage, Chorlton Row, Barri Sparshot, 2011 from a photograph, 1894

*The Hulme/Stretford Road  Workhouse was replaced with a new building in Withington which was completed in 1855
.

Greenwich Park, and a moment a full 53 years ago .......... nu 2 from the river

It will be a full 55 years ago but the memory of that walk through Greenwich Park on a Saturday in September 1971 has never left me.

I was in my second year at Manchester Poly and the pull of Well Hall and the family were still strong and so
I found myself back home with three friends.

Lois was from Weston and Mike and John from Leeds and we travelled down from Manchester in John’s van on the Friday night.

Even now I have to say I haven’t forgotten the kindness of David Hatch who agreed to put Lois, Mike and John up on his floor.

It was a brief stay and most of it is a blur except for the walk from the gates on the Blackheath side through the park to Wolf’s statue, the observatory and that view down to the river.

At any time of the year that short stroll is pretty good but in late autumn it is magic.  The leaves are on the turn and the bright sunlight can still surprise you with its degree of warmth and the way it brings out the colours all around you.

Now we never made it across the river but had we I am sure we would have been rewarded with a view like this.


All of which just leaves me to reflect on the postcard which was marketed in the USA and carried the imprint of the American YMCA of which there must be a story, but not for now.

Location; Greenwich

Picture; Greenwich Park, 1905 from the series Greenwich, marketed in 1911-12 by Tuck & Sons, courtesy of Tuck DB, https://tuckdb.org/

Walking in the north of the township in to Martledge in the summer of 1847, part one

Barlow Moor Lane, north to Martledge, a journey which will take in some great houses, a shop, farms and a pub as well as cottages of wattle and daub and brick

Barlow Moor Lane is a long road.

Standing at the point where the Row joins Barlow Moor Lane we have a choice, turn north and journey on to Martledge and then out of the township by various routes to Hulme and
Manchester, or south to Hardy Lane and on to the Mersey, Withington and Didsbury.

Martledge is much overlooked in most histories of the township so north it is.

And we will start with the Holt estate again.  Leaving the Row and heading north up Barlow Moor Lane we follow the east wall of the Holts, all the way to Lane End.  Everything on this side of the road dates from after 1908 when the last of the Chorlton Holts died and the estate sold off.

It finished at Lane End.  Directly opposite where today Sandy Lane begins was the grocer’s shop of Jeremiah  Brundrett.  It was a large house at one time known as Lilly Cottage.

The Brundrett’s were there long enough for the spot to become known as Brundrett’s corner  Facing the shop roughly on the site of the church was the home of Caleb and Ann Jordril.   Here was one of the last wattle and daub cottages.

Continuing north along the lane our journey would pass open fields until we reached the edge of Martledge.

Here to our left was Clough Farm and on our right Oak Bank House.

The farm stood roughly between Groby Road and Silverwood Avenue.   In that summer of 1847 it was occupied by Margaret Taylor and it would have been her farm land we would have seen as we walked up Barlow Moor Lane towards her home.

Today all of the land from Silverwood Avenue back towards High Lane and right back to Lane End was rented by her from the Egerton Estate.  There were 10 acres in all and it was a mix of arable, meadow and clover and included part of Scotch Hill.

Margaret was forty-seven.   Hers was no easy life.  To make 10 acres of land work and bring in a living required hard work.

Over and above the big points in the agricultural year of sowing, planting and reaping, there were the constant demands of weeding, chasing off pests and the journeys to the markets in Manchester.

These were tasks usually carried out by the whole family, but during the 1840s, she lost both her parents and two sisters which left her with just her 11 year old nephew.   Now Margaret was not alone in facing such loss, or in bringing up the child of her a relative.

Easing the chronic overcrowding meant that at least one child might be farmed out to relatives and Edward her nephew had been at Clough Farm since he was five and would still be there when he was 15 by which time she had married John Stretch.

From their fields they would have been able to gaze across at Oak Bank, one time home of William Morton and later the Cope family.  Oak Bank was a substantial building standing in its own grounds close to the modern junction of Barlow Moor and Wilbraham Roads.

Nothing now exists of the house but the path leading to it is now Needham Avenue. The house was situated in a garden which covered the area running on either side of Needham Avenue as far as Barlow More Lane in one direction and Corkland Road in the other.

The estate also included a large meadow field and small wood stretching back from Needham along Barlow Moor Lane to Lane End.

It had belonged to William Morton who had been there since 1821, but on death his will stipulated that the house and land had to be sold within five years.  

When this happened is not known but in 1845 a Miss Crofton was there paying rent to the Executors of Mr Morton.  

By 1847 the house and land were in the possession of Frederick Cope who rented both to John.  This was a short term arrangement and by 1850 the Cope family were living at Oak Bank.

William Morton had described himself as a member of the gentry.   Frederick Cope was a wine merchant who ten years earlier had been living with his wife and children on Oxford Street, close to where the University now stands.  Elizabeth had died by 1851.

Adapted from THE STORY OF CHORLTON-CUM-HARDY, http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/A%20new%20book%20for%20Chorlton

Pictures; map of Barlow Moor Lane, courtesy of Digital Archives, http://www.digitalarchives.co.uk/  picture of Jeremiah  Brundrett, Wesleyan Handbook, 1908, courtesy of Philip Lloyd, and gravestone of the Morton family in the parish churchyard, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

Taking the Parkway …….. out of the city

Now, you will have to be of a certain age to remember that taking the bus out of the city to Wythenshawe meant travelling on the Parkway.

Writing about the new housing estate in 1937, J P Priestly commented that “a novel feature of the scheme is the provision of parkways from 250 to 300ft. in width, only 40ft. of which will be used for vehicular traffic and the remainder being laid out with trees, shrubbery and grass borders, through which footpaths will run”.*

Sadly, only one was actually built, and that now has been transformed in to a soulless and busy motorway, but for those who remember with fondness the Princess Parkway and everyone else who wonders what the attraction was, here is a reminder.

It comes in the form of a painting and while it may seem idealized, I have no doubt that back in 1937, it was as accurate as the other eleven which appeared in the book some of which have already appeared on the blog.

Location; Manchester

Picture; the Parkway from Manchester ...... heart of the Industrial North

*Manchester ...... heart of the Industrial North, Manchester Chamber of Commerce, 1937

Off Greenwich, 1904

This is called Off Greenwich and the original was painted by Professor Van Hier

Location; Greenwich







Picture, Off Greenwich in the series, On the Thames, issued by Tuck & Sons, courtesy of Tuck DB, http://tuckdb.org/

Our stories …… and other voyages from the kitchen … part one

I have been thinking about the stories of ourselves which are revealed from what we eat, the food choices we make and that complicated mix of family tradition and the sheer variety of food on offer.

Simplicity ... olives, tomatoes and pasta. 2026

Now there is nothing new in any of that.  

Shepherds' pie with out the Shepherd, 2026

It is an obvious observation that we are what we eat and what we eat is conditioned on what we were given as children, as well as on income, availability and the power of consumerism to lead us into new eating habits and new foods.

All of which was reignited by a blog from my old friend Lois, and the account of her Aunty Audrey’s Curry of Mixed Vegetables. *

It is a beautiful blend of family history, people she loved and how we ate seventy years ago, and in particular that Curry of Mixed Vegetables.  

The recipe will date from the late 1950s or early 1960s and may indeed owe its origins to a time further back.

As Lois remarks “If you do feel tempted to try it, you may need to update it – vegetable oil instead of lard, and for example there is a lot of liquid in the preparation of the vegetables.”

And I guess it is a recipe of its time with the reliance on lard, the boiling of the vegetables and fruit in the curry.

My mother made her own curry which was also heavy on fruit and may have had a passing nod to that very 1960s boil in the bag Vesta Curry.

Spicey lentils, peas and tomatoes, 2026

At which point someone will leap in with a heap of authentic curry dishes piled high with fruit, and certainly I remember those amazing cold salads from the Ceylon Tea Centre which included curried rice, and fruit. **

If like me, you were born in the first half of the last century lard will have walked with you at many meals as did that byproduct of the Sunday roast which was beef dripping.  

Collected at the end of the meal, stored in a large pudding bowl and used as a spread on bread.

I remember it well and the bit I liked best was the brown liquid bit at the bottom of the bowl which offered up a powerful salt hit.

As an instant snack it has probably been around for centuries but was very popular during both world wars when food shortages and rationing meant you made the most of what you had.

And given that both of my parents were born in the early decades of the twentieth century beef dripping would have been a natural part of their diet.

Making salad, 2024

They will also have experienced new foods made or grown in far flung parts of the British Empire and conveyed first in those fast “tea clippers” and later in refrigerated ships.

So, while “the Hungry Thirties” and wartime rationing limited choice and quantity the explosion of 1950s consumerism brought new foods which just kept coming as technology and changing fashions in food drove what we thought we wanted to eat.

I was in my early twenties when I first had pizza, olives, and sweet corn and it was not till then that I regularly visited restaurants nor will I be alone in that.  

Eating out in southeast London as a child was confined to the occasional toasted fruit bun at a Lyon’s Corner House.

We didn’t even have a chippy take away, with mother and grand mother sniffily observing “why pay someone else to make something that I can cook at home”.

Pizza, 2025

And as I pass my 77th birthday I have slid into the same world, telling Lois my incomprehension with people walking up Beech Road with cups of coffee from local shops which they then consume at home, albeit a tad colder than if they had made the espresso or fancy coffee indoors.

Making pesto, 2026

But I am not a King Cnut holding back the food experiences of the world. 

Our family is spread out across Europe and Canada and with that come new dishes which I have embraced along with those from holiday destinations in southern Italy and the Greek islands.

Once mastered the adventure is to play with them always remembering that dishes through history have always been adapted because of seasonal variations, availability of ingredients and the whims of the cook in the kitchen

All of which will come together with Christmas which in our family will see bits of Italian, Polish and German festive food mixed with the folk memories of what mum and dad brought to the table which in turn owed much to their families stretching back across Scotland to the east Highlands, the east and west Midlands and to Cologne Warsaw and Naples.

Pesto, potato, green beans and pasta, 2026

And running through all of it will be that simple guide, which is “keep it simple, where possible cook from scratch, err on the side seasonal stuff using up left overs and just make it fun".

Which led me to recreate a pot of orange curd made using a recipe from 1948, when food was still rationed.

Orange curd from a 1948 recipe, 2026

It was a sheer bit of sheer silliness driven on with a curiosity.  Given rationing I was surprised at the amount of sugar which was required.  Needless to say in deference to my teeth I scaled back on the amount of sugar and turned out something which looked good, tasted ok although the jury is out on whether I would attempt to make it again for family and friends.

But then it was made from scratch over the kitchen cooker and was fun to do with the added interest that it might well have been something mum made for me.

And that is it, leaving me just to thank Lois for her Aunty Audrey’s Curry and a pause to think about what to make tonight.

As ever we shall see.

Location; the kitchen

Pictures, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

*Aunty Audrey’s Curry of Mixed Vegetables, https://loiselsden.com/2026/10/25/aunty-audreys-curry-of-mixed-vegetables/

** Ceylon Tea Centre, St Peter’s Square, Manchester, and London, circa 1970s