"Pure style is my way of life... a blueprint for living in the 21st Century"
10 June 2016
9th June 3pm: the garden basks in afternoon heat and light. Days like this in our hit and miss summers are precious, as all worthwhile things are. The bees are here again, feasting on the fluffy alliums and there`s a haze of blue nigella magic from a packet of seeds. Blue and purple, purple and green: summer colour pairs which work so naturally and beautifully. Framing the left and right borders lush green and pink, the usual, but never taken for granted , bowing and flopping roses are sweet with soap scent..
The tulips are giving a good show. Somehow they have escaped the gnashing snails that slithered in with the winter wet. Have got a little confused with the varieties as surprisingly I`m getting some re-shows from last year, and even the year before, I think. I know, because there are a few violent red imposters which I swear I never ordered in the first place, but which have somehow bedded down confidently with at least two seasons of unwelcome visits. Anyway I`m not complaining about the other pink ones that have come back, and am especially pleased with the one or two frilly `black` parrots` that have popped up.
My overall tulip favourite is the raspberry ripple/beetroot coloured `triumph` variety (see above) - like something from an old Dutch master still life.
Since restoring a broken down Georgian Spitalfields house back in the nineteen eighties` and seeing its simple interior spaces come to life again my heart goes out to every piece of neglected architectural beauty I come across. On a recent trip to Barbados (where I`m having the best of times liming with my long lost Cumberbatch family) I note the neglected colonial-style buildings in Bridgetown, the island`s capital, wishing I could scoop up them and put them back together again. It`s vital to hang onto architectural heritage: one swing of a wrecking ball and hundreds of years of skill, detail and social history pound to the ground in a blast of dust. Sometimes the balance tips the wrong way: walking in Spitalfields last week I feel the quirky beauty which attracted artists and brave creative types prepared to rescue the decaying Georgian splendour has all but been swamped by eye-watering house prices, burglar alarms,and Costa Coffee chains. It seems merely another tourist destination where the idea of the artist is all that remains. But at least the houses are preserved.
Back in Barbados the profits from swanky golf resorts like Sandy lane are greater than the less profitable unsung heroes of vernacular style but The National Trust of Barbados does an enormous amount to protect the island`s heritage and there are many exquisitely preserved structures such as, the Black Rock Archives site of the old leprosy hospital where I spent a morning under wooden eaves and cooling fan uncovering my Bajan Grandfather`s birth and death details.
Would love to have a go at bringing something like the tattered building below to life again - it has a For Sale sign.
Built in 1907 The
Empire theatre and cinema - my cousin remembers visits here when she was a child- there are plans to refurbish it
I love the wooden balcony detail
Backstreets of Bridgetown fading beauty- note the simple Georgian style sash windows.
Wooden detail is at the mercy of tropical heat and humidity
On the coast road out of Bridgetown: thirties` gothic - a perfect setting for a Bajan ghost story with a Colonial twist?
With only the swishing of palm trees, the old Queen Elizabeth hospital in Bridgetown is eerie and desolate - my great grandfather was the first man of Colour to be Superintendent here. See below:
The Black Rock Archives , are located in the old leprosy hospital, a collection of elegant stone buildings.
I fly south to Olhao and the glorious vegetable colours and textures of the Saturday market. Beans pods flecked with pink like a painter`s abstract are a joy to look at let alone eat .
More building is in progress at the house to open up the living/ eating space. I am moving a bathroom to what I call the monk`s cell, a poky inner room with a glass brick in the ceiling as the only light source; a not altogether unreasonable Olhao detail, as it is the coolest room in summer and warmest in winter. The new L shaped space has an open hatch to the kitchen. We couldn`t knock all the way through because the giant chimney on the roof above would have no support, and I didn`t want to lose this traditional and distinctive Algarve feature. I am looking forward to the delivery of blue and white floor tiles, in a simple checked pattern that are being made in the traditional way by Artevida near Lisbon.
Against the drab died-back look of winter the last few roses (see here, a John Clare specimen) decorate the garden in defiant shots of frivolous summer pink. I cut some blooms for the table to join candles and a bowl of aromatic clementines in a simple festive still life.
In the season for boxes of delights, I find particular pleasure in unpacking after a year`s rest in the attic irisdescent baubles and a peg doll fairy for the tree. And, there is all the hope and spring potential in the tulip and allium bulbs. Arriving in boxes by mail order, they are tucked amongst newspaper bedding, in net sacks and brown paper bags with special holes to keep the bulbs cool and dry. It is worth noting that most bulbs should be planted at a depth that allows twice their own height of soil above them. Shallower planting is ok but the bulbs are unlikely to perform well after their first year, and there is the added danger of being easier to be scavenged by squirrels. I have just finished planting about 300 pink tulips (including Blue Heron and Recreado) purple giant fluffy alliums (Gladiator and Globemaster). Do hope the rain and sogginess will dry up for spring or I fear the consequent snail plague will be not only a threat to the young foliage but an unwelcome preoccupation.
Hooray, the last bulb is in. Time for a warm up by the fire!
London`s autumn streets swarm with black ant-like crowds dodging and diving from shop to shop as if buying has become as serious as life itself Of course my well over 50 perspective is skewed but no way is my city as rough and exciting around the edges as it was in the 80s` when my dodgy Molton Brown bob and frilly white New Romantic shirt were cool. No Boris bikes to take me to our broken down Georgian wreck in rather grubby Spitalfields . Our youthful optimism and passion for rescuing beautiful architecture also unwittingly prepared the scene for the influx of the current hipster generation; you can hardly move between the foodie pop ups and designer handbag displays. Thankfully Olhao, remains a source of solace and visual inspiration and the Saturday market with its life, understatement, colour and fabulous fresh produce beats any West End/East End foray.
Figs from the flat capped owner`s garden - all shapes and sizes none of which would pass the supermarket test for shape and uniformity
Last month, on a trip to visit my son, I was bowled over by Victorian and Edwardian architecture in South Yarra`s blossom scented streets A kind of Melbourne`s Notting Hill with hipster overtones (plenty of beards and foodie haunts), South Yarra would be a place I would happily do up (quick not many left) a pretty unmodernised weatherboard villa.
Filigree detailing in an Italianate style decorates the balconies and verandas built to provide shade from hot summer sun.
I haven`t seen so much picket fencing since my forays to Long Island in the US.
Simple door furniture detail
Corrugated iron roof: classic and practical Australian style
Victorian bench seating at the Botannical Gardens.
Victorian style beach huts at Dendy Street Beach, Brighton.
As I write the rain spatters on the glassy pavements and the main view from my desk is monotone grey. The horse chestnut across the road is drooping with ever yellowing leaves and the grass on the front lawn is lush iridescent green from late summer downpours. Autumn is here and it is time to unfold the blankets from the cupboard on the landing.
Golden yellow and orange pumpkins are seasonal colours cues for room details.
I aim for colourful and simple eating on hot summer days. For evening drinks or starters at lunch or dinner I pass round smoked mackerel, beetroot and horseradish on pieces of soda bread or a huge plate of raw vegetables and beetroot puree . Carrots, chicory, cucumber, radishes and courgettes are perfect vegetable colours in orange, pink, green, and yellows. Substitute the puree with garlic mayonnaise. These went down a treat at my Pure Colour book launch in June, when the garden was heavy with the scent of rose blooms .
For the book launch we hung garlands of lights which gave a twinkling summer garden party feel to the occasion. Their waterproof qaulity is being tested as we leave them up through the summer cloudbursts to enjoy on warm evenings.
Summer colour in the garden doesn`t stop when the roses are over. I stitch cushions in rose pink cotton velvet, and purple and yellow linen by Manuel Canovas to keep the vibe going.
And there`s cake. Cake is best eaten outside on a winter picnic, or somewhere shady on a hot afternoon. I make a basic Vctoria sponge and smother it with lemon butter cream.
Last week while I was feeling the breeze in Barbados and reconnecting with long lost Bajan Cumberbatches (an extraordinary story of which I will write later ) the garden was busily bursting forth in an explosion of tulip colours. On the plane home, I was yearning for the Bajan sea colours which are of unspeakable beauty: gazing from the verandah each day at a glassy expanse of dark blues on the horizon, then ultramarine, and in the shallows, luminous turquoise flecked with white froth. But after battling against the early morning commuter flow at Clapham Junction and dragging my wheelie bag up and down the hill, my mood lifted as soon as I saw the floral beauty by my very own back door .
I planted the bulbs randomly and so not quite sure what is what, but know that that the varieties include: Lilac Perfection, Violet beauty, Fringed fancy frills, Lily flowering China Pink, Triumph ( the white and beetroot coloured ones) and blue parrot tulips, from Dejager Crocus and Rose Cottage .
The week in December that I spent almost double pushing several hundred tulips and alliums far into the ground to prevent squirrel digging was all so worth it. Each morning, coffee in hand, I`m outside inspecting the day`s new blooms. The tulips are first , and I can almost see them growing as vivid pink and raspberry rippled flower cups unfold in the sun on smooth lime green elegant stems .
The Saturday Olhao market is in itself a wondrous gem. Yet amongst the makeshift counters and shady awnings it`s the one-offs ,a simple woven basket of glossy fresh white eggs or a bundle of roughly tied herbs from the seller`s garden that are the most special, at least, for me. A posy of wild flowers, dunked haphazardly in a plastic washing up bowl is everyday, yet artful and intimate, far from the supermarket `mixed seasonal bunch` . The creators of Olhao`s market couture tend to be the beady eyed older ladies whose stock is less plentiful, and bountiful then some others, but they sure know how to make a few oranges rock on a bed of shiny green leaves.
Daisies, and snails.
Buy a bundle of bay leaves - so good for flavouring meat and fish stews.
Petite piri piri peppers are packed with fiery energy. Be prepared. NB And are even more dangerous if you buy them in jars dried and crushed.
I still use the Elna sewing machine my parents gave me for my 21st birthday many moons ago. And now my own daughter is 21, it feels good to run up a birthday cushion. I use remnants of vibrant fuschia pink cotton velvet by Manuel Canovas left over from a shoot. This should make a glamorous shot of colour in Gracie`s attic student house bedroom, I think. My skills at embroidery are wanting, but I can do simple running stitch to make a personalised label. And it`s good to know that I`m passing on the sewing bug because her friends have clubbed together to give her a sewing machine, too.
And as with every birthday in our household there`s chocolate cake . NB 21 Candles were lit and blown out later.
Festive greetings and wishes for a healthy and happy New Year to all my blog readers .
I haven`t forgotten the recipe for the cheesiest biscuits ( in the taste sense )to rustle up over the holiday. Adapted via Prue Leith`s Cookery Bible (every kitchen should have one) the recipe is easy on kitchen skills. If made a couple of days in advance and stored in a tin, it is useful to crisp the biscuits in a warm oven for a few minutes to bring out the flavour . Or chill the biscuit dough in the fridge, ready for rolling out and baking some tasty snacks for a last minute get together.
225g plain flour
salt and freshly ground black pepper
225 gruyere , pecorino, or strong cheddar, grated
2 tablespoons English mustard
3 teaspoons paprika
Preheat the oven to 190C. Line a couple of baking sheets with greaseproof paper.
Put the flour and into a bowl and rub in the butter until the mixture is like breadcrumbs.
Add the cheese, salt, pepper, mustard, paprika and egg to bind. Make a paste and roll into a ball.
Roll out on a floured board, or, for less mess, between two sheets of greaseproof paper to a 5mm thickness. Cut into squares, ( or rounds, or rectangles or whatever shape you want) and brush the remaining egg.
Bake for about 15 minutes until golden brown. Leave to cool on a wire rack.