The Old Man

It’s been a while since I posted and I thought it was high time I did.  As this weekend is World Gin Day and, is a week before, Father’s Day; it seemed right to create a cocktail using gin and call it The Old Man.  So I did.

I might also subtitle this one A Tale of Two Gins because it requires two very different gins to get the effect.  [Writing that reminds me that earlier in the year, around the time the latest 007 movie was released, there was an excellent article entitled How to Make The Perfect Martini published in the Guardian.  I enjoyed the article, but, as a frequent martini drinker and all round gin-fan, I was stunned by the Dog that Didn’t Bark* in this particular article: at no point does the author discuss which gin - and as gin is by far the majority ingredient in any proper martini that seemed like quite an omission to me.]

Anyway, back to The Old Man:

• 50ml Audemus Pink Pepper Gin
• 50ml Pinksters Gin
• 2ml Chase Elderflower Liqueur 
• A sprig of fresh elderflowers to garnish

Shake over ice, pour into a frozen cocktail glass and garnish with the fresh elderflower - pink in this case to go with the theme - it comes from the purple leaved cultivar but the ordinary kind will give you the same lovely musky aroma over the drink.

Drink, enjoy and remember your Dad.

_____________________________
* A reference to the scene in the Sherlock Holmes story Silver Blase by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in which this exchange takes place:

Gregory (Scotland Yard detective): "Is there any other point to which you would wish to draw my attention?"

Holmes: "To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time."

Gregory: "The dog did nothing in the night-time."

Holmes: "That was the curious incident."

In this context, used to indicate something important for its absence.

.

Blood & Soil: a cocktail

And now for something completely different:

It’s an experiment I've been meaning to do for a while: a martini-style drink using a cocktail beetroot as garnish.  I wanted the liquid to be essentially clear, so that as you drink it, you could see the colour bleeding out of the beetroot.  At the same time the ingredients have to work with the earthy, sweet quality of the garnish, so that they fit together as a whole.

Here’s what I came up with:

Blood and Soil
A Cocktail for the Adventurous

First prepare the glass with half a very small baby beetroot, speared on a cocktail stick and placed so that the cut edge rests against the glass (for the sake of the photograph I used a glass at room temperature, but otherwise I’d prefer a frozen glass). It’s important that the beetroot hasn’t been marinated in loads of vinegar: either plain cooked or with minimal dressing - here I’ve used Waitrose lime zest infused baby beetroot.

To a shaker with 4 cubes of ice add:

• 2 shots of Chase Smoked Vodka
• 2 shots of Ophir gin
• 1/4 bar spoon of Yellow Chartreuse

Shake until thoroughly chilled, pour very gently into the glass and serve.

The picture here was taken about a minute after the pour and as you can see the root is already producing layers and swirls of colour.  By the time the cocktail was half consumed it was a uniform dark pink, at which point I ate the garnish: the whole thing worked very well and would make a great party talking point.

The smoked vodka compliments the spicy Ophir gin perfectly to give an earthy, almost savoury drink, while the small touch of Chartreuse is enough to add a herbal complexity and take the edge off the dryness: a good match with the sweetness of the beetroot.

The Walking Dead

Just for fun, in honour of Hallowe’en I’m presenting a recipe for a variation of my Goth Martini, especially designed to bring a little horror into your evening celebrations (and will certainly horrify any tee-totalers in the party):

To make this one you need:

• Half a shot of Hapsburg Black Absinthe - if you’re feeling brave you could put a full shot in but as this stuff is 79% alcohol proceed with caution!
• 1 shot of Eristoff Black (a sweetish vodka based spirit flavoured with black berries)
• 4 shots of Blavod Vodka (unflavoured and actually a very dark green in colour on it’s own)

Shake over ice until a frost forms (Zombies are dead cold after all).  The combination makes a deep-black colour and is strong enough to wake the dead.

If you wanted you could add a black olive as a garnish, but personally I think it works better without.

Naturally the most sophisticated amongst you will want to drink this while wearing Artemis, the absinthe based fragrance from Pell Wall ;-)

Cheers!

100 years ago today

What was to become known as the First World War started 100 years ago today and while most people are commemorating the anniversary with the now conventional poppies I have something slightly different to offer:

A 1st World War Daffodil

Here is a picture of a humble pressed daffodil in remembrance of my dear grandfather who - in a moment of wild romance - picked it in the midst of battle and sent it home.

I’ll reproduce here the story in memory of one of the heroes who came home, no less to be remembered than those who died in the conflict, no less heroic, but as he described himself in one of his last letters home a “lucky blighter”.  You can read more about him on the website I created in his memory.

I first heard the story of how the daffodil came to be collected and preserved from Poppa (Cyril Bartlett) when I was a young boy. I can remember him clearly telling the story with a great deal of drama and I recall at the time being impressed by it, but not really understanding. 

Years later I would hear the same story in a very different context from Nanny (Jessica Bartlett) – I’ll come to that, what matters for now is that it was the same story. Here it is, as accurately as I can render it: 

One damp spring day, while fighting in the trenches in France, Cyril noticed, out in the distance, in the no-mans-land between his and his enemies’ trenches, a daffodil just coming into flower. He resolved then, that if it were still there that night he would have it to send home. As evening fell, the flower was still there, by now fully open; so Cyril crawled out into no-mans-land [I can see him now making crawling motions with his elbows and giving dramatic emphasis to the need to keep his head right down in case he should be spotted by an enemy sniper]. He reached the flower, picked it, held the stem carefully in his mouth and turned, crawling with equal care back to his own trench. There the flower was carefully pressed and sent home.

The first time I heard this tale; it was a thrilling story of daring from a world of danger that appeared exciting and remote. The second time I heard it (or at least the second that I can remember clearly – I suspect Poppa told us grandchildren the story more than once) it was in the late summer of 1979. I had spent the summer holiday that year helping to nurse Poppa through his final illness and after the funeral I returned to Gayfield to help Nanny sort through his things: it was a difficult time for both of us. The daffodil was stored at that time between the leaves of a book – I had long since forgotten all about it until Nanny showed it to me and re-told the story I’ve related above, though without the dramatic embellishments. By now I was old enough to understand it as a story of deep love and the mad, romantic gesture of commitment and longing that it really was.

Stored with the daffodil, with all the other papers, is a pressed fuchsia, which I believe Jessie sent back to Cyril in a return letter and he retained and brought home from the war. The note you can see in the scan here is written in Cyril's own hand some years after he came home, and after he saw his own sons go off to fight in the Second World War. 

For me those brown and tattered, flattened flowers have always been the most potent symbol of the love between my grandparents that was the backdrop to my childhood.

In remembrance of all those caught up in the terrible tragedy of the Great War whether they came home or not.

A daffodil.

A bomber, a golf course and an uncle

Just before I come back to those things I trailed in yesterday's teaser post I wanted to say a little something about my remarkable uncle Basil Ambrose, who turned 90 recently. Few of those heroes who flew Lancaster Bombers in World War II have survived so long and there can be fewer yet who are still so active.

I've recounted some of his story here, adapted from a press release by the Goring and Streatley Golf Club, where Basil celebrated his 90th Birthday with a party and also by being on the course at 7.30am to tee-off: now that's what you call keen.

Basil in the local paper

Born 1923 in Derby Street, Reading, Basil still lives nearby in Langley Hill, Tilehurst. A golfing veteran, Basil started caddying at 16 years of age and was on the course the day war was declared. He didn’t hesitate to join Air Raid Precautions (ARP) as a messenger boy and remembers being on Langley Hill the day bombs were dropped.

“I heard aircraft flying overhead and noticed a half circle of light. Suddenly it sounded like an express train coming though the air. I realised immediately what was happening and dived into a ditch by the side of the road. My family were frightened to death. Bombs went right up Langley Hill. We were lucky not to have had more casualties.”

At 18, Basil resigned his apprenticeship as a metal turner and joined the Home Guard, and then later the Royal Air Force. Training at various bases in the UK, he passed out with top grades to become a Leading Aircraftsman. In his role as a flight engineer, Basil helped pilot huge 4-engine Stirling bombers, later converting to Lancaster bombers with 467 Squadron.

Avro Lancaster R5868
in the Bomber Hall of the RAF Museum London
courtesy Wikipedia

By 1944, Basil was flying daylight support operations over the Netherlands and night raids over Germany. Basil talked about one particularly difficult night raid.

“We’d reached our target in Germany but the rest of the force had gone, so we were alone. As soon as we dropped the bombs, the rear gunner spotted a fighter coming in. He gave the instruction to corkscrew but the skipper knew that to lose the search lights he’d have to do something entirely different. He stood the plane on its nose and we dived 5,000 feet. I was pinned to the cabin ceiling. When we pulled up, I was forced to the floor. Then we dived another 3,000 feet. We took some flak and lost an engine but made it home in one piece.”

Wearing his France and Germany Star, and 1939-1945 Star and War Medal at his birthday celebrations, Basil has certainly earned recognition for his bravery and service.

"I was there to do a job, we didn't want to let anyone down"
Basil Ambrose in characteristic style

At the end of the war, Basil returned to Langley Hill, working at Cook’s Dairy Farm Equipment using his engineering skills. He later joined the Atomic Weapons Research Establishment in Aldermaston as a mechanical safety officer and the Greater London Council as chief safety advisor, before taking early retirement.

Basil with his son David

Looking for a hobby, friends recommended Basil join Goring and Streatley Golf Club. He’s now been a member for three decades and his family are regular visitors too for family celebrations. Basil’s brother-in-law, Dennis Bartlett, had his 90^th birthday party there and three Bartlett cousins jointly celebrated their 40^th wedding anniversaries there too. Liz Bartlett, Basil’s sister-in-law, commented on how the family holds its ‘cousins’ lunch’ at the club every year, coming from as far as Shropshire, Somerset and the West County to join in the celebrations.

Cyril Bartlett

Basil isn't the only hero in the family either - he joined the Bartlett family when he married Jean, who's father Cyril Bartlett, my grandfather, was a soldier in the First World War and is the subject of a book and website that tell the story of his war through his letters to Jessica: the lady who was to be my grandmother.

As you might imagine, we're quite proud of our family heroes!

A sad weekend at Pell Wall

It's been a sad weekend here at Pell Wall.  For 17 years I've been owned by a small dog named Jet who passed away in the early hours of Saturday morning.

Jet: 28th January 1996 to 16th February 2013

She was a special friend and will be missed very much.  I've put together a few pictures of her around the house over the last few years as a little remembrance.

The picture of her peering up at me through the bamboo was taken late summer 2012 - I think she was supervising me while I took out the rubbish - like any responsible owner, she supervised whether I needed it or not.

Jet by Kat Foster

I'm sure I saw a snake here somewhere . . .

The painting was done for us in December last year by Kat Foster, a young artist working at the same shop in Newport where I sell my range of perfumes.  Kat worked from a photograph I took of Jet on her 16th birthday, when it hardly seemed possible she would stay with us for another year.

Checking for evidence, Spring 2012

In the snow, January 2013

Here you can see her exploring the garden in differing conditions.  By January this year running in the snow was no-longer an option, but she still enjoyed going out in it.

It was hard to imagine for those who only knew her in her later years, but she got her name not so much because was mostly dark coloured as because she was so fast - a jet-plane among dogs.  Chasing birds was one of her earliest pleasures.

The indoor picture shows her sat in the middle of some paperwork I was trying to do sat up in bed: evidently on this occasion close supervision was required.

Jet, not doing the filing

Seventeen is a remarkable age for a pedigree Sheltie (normal lifespan for the breed is 12-13 years) and she was fortunate to remain happy and mobile  (albeit slowly and not too far) right up until her 17th birthday.  She was still waiting at the door to give a wagging welcome when Angela came home from work late on Friday evening.
Later that night she became suddenly very distressed, we stayed with her to comfort her through the night but by 5.30am she'd already chased off Death several times (no doubt leaving him with the seat of his robe torn) so we decided, very reluctantly, that we'd have to call in help.  In the event by the time the vet arrived at 6.30 Jet had already slipped into a coma so she was unaware of the injection.

 A peaceful final resting place for Jet

We buried her at a spot at the end of the garden yesterday morning and went to choose some plants to mark the place in the afternoon.  I took the picture of the spot today - if you're interested in these matters the flowering bush in the middle is Hamamelis x intermedia 'Aphrodite' and we chose it because it is beautiful, slow growing and with luck it will flower each year around the time of her birthday and be still flowering by the anniversary of her death.

~~~~ updated 17th April 2013 ~~~~

Two months to the day today and the new Pell Wall Pack that have come take on Jet's mantle have been dominating our time and attention for some time now, but I thought I'd take a moment as the sun went down last night to capture the way her resting place looks now: the snowdrops are gone and Hammamelis is more-or-less over now - though it flowered on throughout the March snows - but the heather looks even better and now there are dwarf daffodils in flower, with more to come as these go over and the first shoots of lilies have emerged too.

Jet's grave in April 2013

Images of Saturn

It's a bit naughty to do two off-topic posts in a row, but I couldn't resist this video made with compilations of shots from the Cassini probe.

And just to add some colour, here's a beautiful picture from the same source:

Saturn, its rings and largest moon Titan

I found these in this article on The Atlantic.

Do it anyway

I'm posting this just because I thought it was rather wise, it has nothing in particular to do with perfume:

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

These verses are often attributed to Mother Teresa of Calcuta, sometimes called her 'Anyway Poem' and it has been reported that they were written on the walls of the children's home where she worked but according to the official website maintained in her memory they were never her words, although a version of some sort does seem to have been displayed in that home.

In fact they are an adaptation from a work called The Paradoxical Commandments by Dr. Kent M. Keith

Hereford Martini

In honour of World Gin Day 2012 I’ve decided to publish the recipe (formula if you are a perfume person) for a rather wonderful variation of the classic Martini.  Here for your delectation is The Hereford

The Hereford Martini

To make The Hereford you will need:

• One quarter of a Lime
• Four Measures of Williams Elegant Gin
• Half Measure of Chase Elderflower Liqueur
• One teaspoonful of Green Chartreuse
• Plenty of Ice
• One frozen Martini glass
• Either a shaker or stirring glass

The key to this is the very fine Williams Elegant Gin - it’s 48% alcohol so I think you can afford to shake this martini, even if you normally prefer yours stirred (and therefore a little stronger) and I think the mix benefits from the extra air that will put in.  Martini people have strong views on shaking or stirring though, so do whichever you prefer.

Either way, start by adding the Elderflower (Chase is the same Herefordshire company who make Williams Gin, hence this is a Hereford . . .) to the ice.  Then a teaspoonful of Green Chartreuse (55% alc so you are not diluting the gin, but don’t add too much or it will be too sweet).

Finally pour in the four measures of Williams Gin and stir or shake.

Split the lime quarter in half and squeeze one half into the mix and re-shake, position the other half on your frozen Martini glass as a garnish and pour your drink.

Naturally, in ideal circumstances, you should drink this while wearing Gin & Lime by Pell Wall Perfumes, but only a select few will be lucky enough to have both the finest Gin and the perfect fragrance to go with it!

Pell Wall Perfumes has visitors

I’m very lucky in my working environment.  The perfumery itself has a large patio door overlooking the front garden, which in turn overlooks the quiet lane and fields beyond.  Occasionally that results in some interesting visitors and last week as I sat at the Perfumer’s Organ working on a commission for a client, up pops this chap:

Hello, what goes on in here then?

I got up to get a closer look:

Got any perfumes for birds?

He didn’t seem much bothered by me taking pictures, so I watched what he’d do next.

This pot is a perfect match for my plumage.
I think I’ll just stand here and look gorgeous for a bit . . . 

It wasn’t long though before his Mrs turned up to look for him:

Well? Did you get me a nice perfume then?

She soon had him concentrating on more important matters and I got this last picture through the kitchen window as they settled in under the bird feeding station to clear up the seeds dropped by the goldfinches eating above them.

Jolly good nosh at this perfumery.
Could have called it the Pell Wall Pheasant Cafe really couldn’t they?

Business Cards by Moo

I thought these new Luxe business cards by Moo were so impressive I had to include a picture in the blog:

Each card has a picture of some of my products on the back and my details on the other side, with a clever line of colour visible in the cut edge as well.  As you can see the batch includes lots of different pictures making them much more interesting than ordinary business cards.

The arrive beautifully packaged as well (you can just see the box at the top of the picture).

A collectors item for when I’m famous perhaps? ;-)

Interview with Richard Axel on the nature of smell

This remarkable half hour interview with Nobel Prize winning scientist Richard Axel, starts with a discussion of the nature of smell and wanders on into gene splicing, the discovery of the mechanism by which the AIDS/HIV infection works, touching on the sex-life of snails and opera.  Along the way we get a wonderful insight into the way original science is done and conclude with a philosophical understanding of the nature of scientific knowledge.


Link to Charlie Rose's Interview with Richard Axel

It's perhaps a tenuous connection but wine and perfume have, alcohol, complexity and the need for a good nose in common. So I'm including links here to a couple of my favourite specialist wine suppliers actually both run by the same wine expert, David Chapman:

Amis du Vin imports fine French wine particularly from the Loire

While at Champagne Charlie they sell some of the very best Champagne - including some really excellent small houses you won't find in your high street wine merchant.