lostpastremembered: Little Moreton Hall

Thursday, January 8, 2015

A Little More Little Moreton Hall and Ye Olde Pea Soup

A few years ago I wrote about Little Moreton Hall in Cheshire and how much I loved it (HERE). Last summer, I finally got to see it in person and it was so much more than the sum of the many photos I had seen

When you know a house only through photographs you are missing so much. Everyone focuses on different elements when they see a place –– photographs are only the photographer’s synopsis. Haven’t you had the experience where you say to someone, “didn’t you love that yellow wall and they say “What yellow wall, I was looking at the incredible overmantel” and you say, “What overmantle?” I like to read the whole book.

When I went to Little Moreton I got to poke around and take my time combing the nooks and crannies with help from the wonderful Kirsten Warren who looks over the place for the National Trust with her cheerful staff. Walking the tilting floors, inhaling the scent of great age that the wood and stone and plaster exude -- none of these things can be absorbed through photographs. I would give my eye-teeth to live in a house like this.

Wood worn by sun, wind and water for centuries is a work of art. Even the lovely quatrefoils strewn over the darkened surfaces with such profusion have that quality of wabi sabi –– in an old English way to be sure. The beauty is in the imperfection and time is the artist.

A special treat when I visited in person was the painted room at Little Moreton -- the photos I had seen of it were terribly blurry and didn’t do it justice at all. I love Elizabethan painted rooms. For the most part, the style of painting in the rooms is often primitive – I am mad for the robust color palette and effervescent style. It had a terribly short span in fashion, only from about 1570 to 1610 and most of them were lost forever.

Ledbury painted room, photo from English Buildings

Yet some were only covered over with wood paneling as they fell out of fashion. For the most part, this is the reason that painted rooms are discovered from time to time – usually by tradesmen making repairs or renovations. The famous Ledbury painted room was discovered under thick layers of wallpaper. A very perspicacious restoration worker noticed the painting when he was scraping the last of the paper away and stopped work immediately. English Heritage was called in and their conservators finished removing the paper after the discovery, an effort that took 4 months instead of the few days it would have taken to strip the old paper away. Thank heavens for that. The room is justifiably famous, but Little Moreton’s room is magnificent. The ochre paint is brilliantly rich -- the room glows like it has an eternal sun behind it.

The painted room at Little Moreton Hall was found when an electrician was doing some work and pulled up some of the paneling in the room in 1976. The pictures were painted on paper and glued to the wall and the paneling and frieze sections were painted directly on the plaster. The NT said “The paintings represent elaborate paneling and an ornamental frieze. There are also twelve panels showing alternate biblical scenes and black letter text. They are believed to date from around 1580 and are associated with John Moreton who owned the hall at that time.”

I spent a good deal of time in the room peering at the details. It looked like a Renaissance coffered ceiling had been transferred to the walls -- odd and delightful at the same time.

The exuberance wasn’t limited to wall painting. Little Moreton is also a wonder of windows. Light plays everywhere in the house thanks to the refractive quality of all that old glass set in ancient lead. – light shimmers here.

The play between the melting old glass and the half-timbered geometrics of the exterior walls on the other side of the courtyard is a delight – I’m afraid that photos can’t do the effect justice. The designs dance in the quarries (small, square or diamond shipped panes that are clear, colored or painted) as you move in the room.

Leadlights abound with great expanses of clear quarries all around the house (the term leadlight is different from, although is often confused with stained glass). Although it must have been arctic in the winter, the light dances on the floors throughout.

A tour is not complete without a few shots of the long gallery. It is a miracle that it still stands. Honestly, you feel a bit like a drunken sailor walking on it. Made all the worse by looking up at the sprouted wooden circles on the ceiling. For some reason it makes you feel like the wood is still alive and growing in ever so slow motion.

The destiny plasterwork on the end of the great hall.

As you move to the downstairs hall, there is a gorgeous cabinet of old brass tableware.

It is thought this room once had a medieval center firepit and a hole in the ceiling to let out the smoke. Now it is just a simple beautiful room with a polished stone floor to die for.

There are small bits of interest like a tiny sleeping area and a very rustic privy.

Country Life, 1929

All these lovely things but there was no kitchen to be viewed. When Country Life Magazine did a spread on the house in 1929 they took a shot of the corner of the kitchen with an ancient looking tile floor and the Moreton quatrefoils on the columns. The area is no longer open to the public.

What might appeal to the household at Little Moreton when the house was young? I am imagining something simple and good as befitting the personality of the house –– a dish with history and integrity and just the tiniest bit of cheek. I paid a visit to The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digbie Kt. Opened by Sir Kenelm Digby (1603-65). The book was published by a servant after Kenhelm ‘s death but many of the recipes would have been enjoyed by Little Moreton residents. Pease-Porage is a great simple dish and perfect for a warming your insides. The addition of the butter and mint is really inspired if I may say -- just like Little Moreton Hall.

MY LORD LUMLEY'S PEASE-PORAGE (from The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digbie)

Take two quarts of Pease, and put them into an Ordinary quantity of Water, and when they are almost boiled, take out a pint of the Pease whole, and strain all the rest. A little before you take out the pint of Pease, when they are all boiling together, put in almost an Ounce of Coriander-seed beaten very small, one Onion, some Mint, Parsley, Winter-savoury, Sweet-Marjoram, all minced very small; when you have strained the Pease, put in the whole Pease and the strained again into the pot, and let them boil again, and a little before you take them up, put in half a pound of Sweet-butter. You must season them in due time, and in the ordinary proportion with Pepper and Salt.

This is a proportion to make about a Gallon of Pease-porage. The quantities are set down by guess. The Coriander-seeds are as much as you can conveniently take in the hollow of your hand. You may put in a great good Onion or two. A pretty deal of Parsley, and if you will, and the season afford them, you may add what you like of other Porage herbs, such as they use for their Porages in France. But if you take the savoury herbs dry, you must crumble or beat them to small Powder (as you do the Coriander-seed) and if any part of them be too big to pass through the strainer, after they have given their taste to the quantity, in boiling a sufficient while therein, you put them away with the husks of the Pease. The Pint of Pease that you reserve whole, is only to show that it is Pease-porage. They must be of the thickness of ordinary Pease-porage. For which these proportions will make about a Gallon.

Pease Porage (makes 4 good servings)

1 1/2 c split peas
5-6 cups water
1/2 onion, sliced or diced
2 t ground coriander
salt and pepper to taste
1 stalk celery and 1 carrot sliced (optional)
a handful of chopped parsley and 2 stalks of parsley
a handful of fresh marjoram, mint, savory celery leaves, etc.
2T butter

Put the peas and water together with the onion, coriander salt and pepper and vegetables as well as the parsley stalks. Cook for about an hour at low heat, semi-covered until reduced to a puree. Remove the parsley and celery stalks and add the chopped herbs and butter.

*Little Moreton Hall is on Newcastle Rd, Congleton, Cheshire

Little Moreton Hall pt 2

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Little Moreton Hall and Taffaty Tarts

Little Moreton Hall, Cheshire

A friend of my mother gave me a book of architectural styles when I was 12 and my world was transformed. For a year I inhaled architecture books at the library. At 13 I swerved onto the Art Nouveau off-ramp and my formerly catholic tastes were neglected as I thrilled to the dips and swirls of Gaudi and Horta and Guimard. Still, the early paddling in the pool of styles had a lasting effect.

The love of architecture and craftsmanship never really left me and my heart beats a little faster every time I see a great building. One of my lasting favorites is the half-timbered style. Not the “Ye Olde” beige version of the style snatched for chip shops and 1920’s suburban houses but the real 15^th to 17^th century deal. It appeals to me in a million ways.

Cabinet of Dr Caligari

Come to think of it, that Art Nouveau style had a similar draw for me. I think I know why –– I have a small aversion to right angles! I think that revelation came the first time I saw The Cabinet of Dr Caligari and those mad, German expressionist sets –– nothing straight about anything in that film (bless the creative genius of designer Hermann Warm).

The half timbered style that I love really came into its own in England in the 15^th century. It came about because of a luxury of oak. England had a great deal of it before home-building, heating and ship construction decimated the once glorious forests of English oak by the 17^th century. Oak is quite a material, ancient oak is incredibly strong –– one of the reasons that those buildings I love are still standing –– in their syncopated, bow-legged no-right-angle sort of way.

A great article on Britain Express said that the term half-timbered refers to the halved logs used in the technique (or the square inner section of the log) –– not the fact that it is part wood and part mud. The white part of the construction comes from wattle and daub – an interlaced structure of small branches and straw covered by clay mud (with plaster and sometimes lathe on interior walls).

The article went on to describe the building technique. A brick or stone base was built, “then a sill beam laid on the footing. Upright beams were mortised into the sill beam and tenoned at the top into another horizontal member. Timber framed houses are essentially big boxes, with upper “boxes” (stories) set upon lower ones.” The article also determined that the possible reason that the upper floors stuck out over the lower ones had to do with protecting the entry from rain and snow (although a tax on the land footprint could also have played a part).

Little Moreton Hall

When I think half-timbered, I inevitably think of Little Moreton Hall (the name Moreton is Saxon/Norse and means marshland or farmland). I was reminded of it a few weeks ago when I wrote about my favorite tree house (HERE). It’s probably one of the best examples of the style in England.

The National Heritage List and Time Travel Britain were full of information on the house. It was begun by Sir Richard de Moreton around 1450 and continued to be constructed until 1580 –– using profits from large tracts of land the family picked up at a substantial discount after the black death wiped out the local population. The house stayed in the family for nearly 500 years before going into the caring arms of the National Trust.

Little Moreton Hall Gallery on the top

The chevron (v shape) and lozenge (diamond) patterns with quatrefoils (4-leaf clover shape) give it an extraordinary graphic quality. But it’s the saggy gallery of Little Moreton Hall that I’m crazy about. The gallery with its 68’ windowed ‘long hall’ was part of the last round of construction. Built onto the un-strengthened lower supports, the great weight of it and the stone roof caused considerable sagging (although the steel rods that were snuck in in the 19^th century have kept it from collapsing).

Long Hall

The room is just astonishing, as are the rest of the interiors with odd spaces, idiosyncratic structural beams and rolling wooden floors (the ground floor has stone floors).

Half-timbered interior

Richard Dale's Signiture

One of the striking things about the house is that a craftsman actually signed his work, taking enormous pride in his windows, as well he should. Richard Dale was hired to create the radiant 2 storied bay windows in the East Wing that were finished in 1559 .

Window Interior

Window Exterior

When I thought about what to make for a Little Moreton Hall-style treat, the Taffety Tart came to mind. Lots of irregular layers in homage to the charms of the house and a dish that’s been around as long as the house –– perfect.

The English have been making a puff paste for centuries, much like the one we make today. This one came from a selection of 5 styles in the great Robert May cookbook from the mid-17^th century, The Accomplisht Cook (I wrote about May HERE).

Although I saw similar pastes in 16^th century books, this one has an unusual egg and cream component in the base dough that is folded with butter to make the layers the same way we do it today. You could use a purchased puff paste if you want to forgo the pleasure of kicking it really old school. I made my tarts with 3 layers of puff paste and 2 of apples. The coolest thing about these is the interesting flavored sugar made with lemon peel and fennel seed. It’s brilliant with apples. I am not alone in this belief. Heston Blumenthal did a riff on it for his blazing hot London restaurant, Dinner.

Here are the original recipes from May’s 1665 book. I decided to make individual tarts instead of a large one. You could make apple layers on top of one layer of crust but I decided to go for layers of crust as well and make it into a sort of apple sandwich. I used about 1/3 of a large apple per tart. It could have been served in a dish much like this ancient beauty.

Taffaty Tart 6-8

3-4 apples, seeded, skinned and sliced paper thin

1/2 c sugar

grated peel of 1 1/2 lemons

1 - 2 t fennel seed, roughly ground

puff pastry

1/2 stick butter

1 -2 drops Aftelier rose essence or 2 t rosewater

Heat oven to 400º. Line baking sheet with parchment paper.

Combine the sugar, lemon peel and fennel seed.

Cut out pastry into 3 rounds per tart. Brush one side with with butter. Lay out 6-8 of them and sprinkle with sugar. Put a layer of apples on them and sprinkle with sugar. Put another round of pastry on top of these and follow with another of apples and sugar. Top with the final piece of pastry. You may want to pop these back in the fridge for a cool-down before baking.

Bake for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 390º. Bake another 20-25 minutes or until lightly browned.

Remove from oven and brush gently with rose butter and sprinkle with sugar. Put them back in the oven and bake another 5 or so minutes until sugar is crisp and sparkly.

The Fourth Way puff pastry

2 c flour (bread flour)

2 whites of egg

1 yolk

2 -3 T cream

pinch of salt

1 1/2 sticks butter, softened

Beat the egg till frothy and add the flour. Add enough cream to make a soft dough. Roll this out into a square and refrigerate.

Remove from fridge and spread the butter in a smaller square in the center, like a diamond with its points in the center of the larger square's flat sides. Bring the pointed sides of the pastry up around it to enclose the butter and then roll it out again, making sure not to be too rough that you let the butter escape. Fold it like a letter in 3 sections and refrigerate for a half hour or so. Take it out, roll it out and fold it up again. Continue to do this 5 times, always keeping the seam to the same side and refrigerating between turns, at least 30 minutes (white on rice couple has a great tutorial on puff pastry HERE).

When it is done, roll it thin and refrigerate. When you are ready to use it, cut out the circles and refrigerate. The colder the dough when it goes in the oven, the better the chance of rising. I usually use bread flour for this but was out and added a bit of whole wheat... they didn't rise as high as usual for me but were delicious none the less.