In praise of...portion control

Not what we used to call moderation....

 

 

As someone devoted to baking, coffee shops and sitting down with a book, I am perhaps not the shining exemplar of healthy living and moderation, but I have recently come to think of (another) reason to prefer the indies of Brum over their corporate counterparts - portion size.

 

 

Since the first Starbucks opened in the UK in 1998, the world of the café has changed hugely, and you won't be hearing complaints from me that ordering a coffee leads one to expect more than some value-range instant granules and a splash of tepid water in a polystyrene cup.  We now have shabby-chic rather than just shabby, and a latte is generally understood as not being the same as "hot milky coffee".  However, as has been well commented on, we have also somehow managed to accept the "bucket" as an acceptable volume for a cuppa (with a correspondingly enormous price tag).  Capacious mugs, augmented with whipped cream, flavoured syrups (shudder) and chocolate sprinkles abound, and like the sheep we are, we "treat ourselves" again and again.  [Of course, this could be just me, but I don't want to think about this being a personal weakness, so will continue to spread the blame here...]

 

BUT - when one enters an independent café, this is often not the case.  Order a large cappuccino, and that it precisely what you get - a very large cup of whatever blend you wish for, but nonetheless something your grandmother would recognise as a "big cup", not as something comically outsize.  Whist this can sometimes feel stingy when you are used to the huge mugs the chains have, but once you take a reality check, you realise that feeling bloated on pint after pint of frothy milk and sugary additions is not the reason we loved coffee in the first place.

So, make mine a small!

Harborne Food School - UPDATED!

Can't tell you how excited I am to see that the food school in the Harborne Clocktower development is coming together.

There are hoping to open in November, I am reliably informed by whoever the nice person tweeting for them, and the space looks fabulous.

As soon as I can get me on one of their courses, I will let you know what I learn!

UPDATE:

Well, that was serendipitous - just after tweeting about this I was approached by the people behind this venture, and was offered the opportunity to look around the space that will become the school.  I can confirm  -in a fully impartial capacity- that it's going to be fantastic.

The building -as anyone who knows the area already knows- is an airy, delightful Grade II listed former Victorian school which, after some political grumblings, is now being restored on a commercial basis.  It is a perfect location for a food school - gorgeous vaulted ceilings, imposing, church-style windows and the original wooden panelling.  There is space for an deli area which will sell items related to the demonstrations in the main schoolroom, which will host lessons and  masterclasses.

The owners are clearly enthusiastic and passionate about the project, and I left the place with the prickle of excitement one feels when in the presence of a genuine labour of love.


Must dash, but I'll be keeping an eye out and will let you know when things change.

Sunny Afternoon – The Hampstead Theatre, London

I know the cup's an odd colour, but it keeps my coffee warm...

OK, so I know that Birmingham is meant to be my focus on this blog – it’s long been a frustration that our city has such cultural vibrancy, and yet as with so many things this gets forgotten in London-centric media coverage.

BUT, I have to make an exception here, and will try to explain why.

When I was 15 I somehow wound up with a tape left behind after a party.  It was a compilation of the Kinks’ singles, and I was utterly mesmerised.  I hadn’t heard anything like it before – chirpy, vibrant tunes married perfectly to beautifully-crafted pen portraits and vignettes of working class life in 60s London.  Pop music, which up until then meant little to me, suddenly became vital and educational.  I know that people use the term “life changing” with tedious frequency, but that is the best way to describe the experience for me – music became a huge part of my life, and has remained so for the decades that followed.

So, there was never going to be a question of not going to see the new musical based on the Kinks’ rise to fame, scripted by Joe Penhall and featuring a raft of Kinks songs.  I trekked down to London with expectations not as high as you might expect – in later years Ray Davies (the Kinks’ leader) has made some unusual artistic choices, some of which (an “Unauthorised Autobiography”) work better than others (the choral reworkings of Kinks classics, some of the collaborations on his recent “see my friends” album).  Would this be purely an exercise in nostalgia, or will Davies and Penhall have produced something worthy of the story of this seminal band?

In short – yes, absolutely yes.  The play covers the period from the early sixties to the start of the 70s, where the Kinks enjoyed their first rush of success, with all its euphoria, fame and wealth alongside the financial wrangles, excess and the damaging experience of being effectively banned from performing in the US.

Performances are strong throughout, although my biggest plaudits go to Adam Sopp as a marvellously sardonic and prickly Mick Avory, the band's drummer and George Maguire as Dave, Ray’s hedonistic younger brother.  Maguire played every mannerism of the more exuberant Davies brother to perfection, and cuts a hugely charismatic figure, attracting the eye whenever he is on the stage, much as the real Dave did during the Kinks’ high-energy performances.

As well as the acting performances, the musical side is expertly played – each cast member playing live (as far as I could tell) with some support from a couple of other musicians at the side of the stage.  This way of performing the songs worked organically with the action on stage (they were a band, after all) and landed a greater sense of authenticity to proceedings that at times felt more like a gig than a theatrical production.

One flaw for me was perhaps the inevitable result of this being Ray’s story, told on his terms – whilst his brother was well-drawn and sympathetic, I would have loved to have heard his best-known songs, Death of a Clown and Susannah’s Still Alive, but perhaps I am being too precious demanding my favourite songs.

Rumours of a Kinks reunion abound in this, their 50^th anniversary year, and whilst one must always be cautious about whether great bands reforming are a good idea, I certainly hope that this production will kickstart greater interest in what was undoubtedly one of the greatest bands of the 60s. 

I would say one of the greatest of all time, but then I am biased.