Monday 27 April 2015

Chocolate connections

Åkesson's Cocoa Beans

A few days on the Suffolk coast set me thinking.  Not of oysters and smokehouses, though there are good things to be had from the black-painted shacks dotted around the quays and beaches of this lovely East-coast county.  My thoughts turned to, of all things, chocolate.  Here the climate could not be further from the humid, tropical environments of the equatorial belt best-suited to the growing of cacao but the connection is Pump Street Bakery.  In the short time the Bakery has been in existence, it has carved out a name for itself in turning out excellent bread and pastries.  Its Eccles Cakes, in particular, are so delicious that customers now order them on-line.  Buttery puff pastry, the very best Greek currants, sugar and spices make an irresistible combination.  Their foray into chocolate-making is proving equally successful.

Back in London, I've been enjoying Pump Street Bakery Single Origin  'Bean to Bar' chocolate for a while now.  Not all of the 'flavours' appeal to me but they produce a Venezuelan Patenemo 75% that tastes of gingerbread, molasses and dark fruits and a Madagascar Criolla 74% using beans from the Åkesson organic estate producing natural flavours of raspberry and membrillo.  Both bars are ones I'll walk the extra mile for.  Pump Street Bakery has quite a long list of stockists now so you shouldn't have too much trouble tracking some down.  If you're in London this week, they have a 6-day Pop-Up starting tomorrow (28 Apr-3 May) at In House, 67 Redchurch Street E2 7DJ.


Pump Street bakery
Venezuela 75% Patenemo chocolate

Coincidentally (or is it?), already on Redchurch Street (at Nos 19-29) is Mast Brothers.  Arriving from Brooklyn in February, the bearded brothers have not only opened a shop on this red-hot Shoreditch street but a 'factory' to produce their chocolate on site.  There's also a state-of-the-art brew-bar serving up hot and cold chocolate drinks, chocolate beer and sourdough bread with chocolate spread.  I confess I've not always found Mast Brothers chocolate easy to like.  Generally it's the flavoured chocolate like 'Vanilla & Smoke' that are just too strong for my taste.  There's a deliberate graininess about the production that I don't always appreciate but their Single Origin chocolate is more palatable to me and a bar of Single Origin Peru 75% doesn't go amiss now and then.

Mast Brothers London

The Chocolate Connection between these two makers is Bertil Åkesson, who recently opened a tiny Notting Hill shop at 15b Blenheim Crescent W11 2EE.  Both Pump Street Bakery and Mast Brothers source some of their Single Origin estate beans from Åkesson's.  With their own plantations in Madagascar, Brazil and Indonesia, Åkesson's are able to not only make their own Single Origin chocolate bars but also sell to other small bean-to-bar makers.  Åkesson's Bali Sukrama 75% Trinitarian and their Brazil Fazenda Sempre firme 75% Forester bars are both finding their way into my shopping bag whenever I'm in Notting Hill.

The British taste for chocolate developed in the 17th Century when cacao (cocoa) cultivation began on Jamaican plantations.  Given the times, inevitably, fortunes were made on the backs of slave labour.  Linnaeus named the plant Theobroma cacoa, or Food of the Gods.  Originating in Central-South America, the plant has spread naturally and by man.  The Mayans saw cacao as a symbol of commerce, wealth and prosperity.  When Cortez took the knowledge of how to use cacao back to Spain it remained a secret for 100 years and was a drink reserved for the Spanish elite. Today, around 70% of production comes from Ghana, Nigeria, the Ivory Coast and the Republic of Cameroon, though most of the Africans working on today's plantations have never tasted cacao in its processed form of chocolate.

Raw cacao is high in cocoa butter, a fat which is removed during chocolate refining then added back in varying amounts during processing along with other fats, sugars and milk.  This results in a wildly different product all coming under the name of 'chocolate'.  There is no getting away from the fact that 'bulk' beans cacao production is mired in allegations of corrupt trading practices, at best, and child labour and slavery, at worst.  Personally, I'd rather eat a couple of squares of good chocolate several times a week than have a daily quick fix of the cheap stuff.  Better for my health and my conscience.

So, this week I'll be trying to make time to get down to Pump Street Bakery's Redchurch Street Pop-Up.  They may not be able to recreate the clean Suffolk air I appreciated so much last week, but a bar of chocolate and, maybe, an Eccles Cake will certainly bring back memories.


Sunday 19 April 2015

Onward from 'Maltby Street 2011' - the strength of the Tintype image

Golden beets
Tintype photograph
© Tif Hunter

A couple of years ago I wrote an article for The Foodie Bugle magazine titled 'On Maltby Street' celebrating the work of photographer Tif Hunter.  It was a piece where my triumvirate of passions - food, photography and art - came together in one ideal package.  The recent release of the Toast menswear Lookbook Spring/Summer 2015, shot by Tif using the Tintype process, prompted me to review and update my earlier article and reproduce it here.  I hope you like it and that it stirs an interest in the medium for you too.

All images are the copyright of Tif Hunter.

My first sighting of Tif Hunter, the photographer, was in a dank alley alongside Victorian railway arches in South London.  Hunched over a wooden box set on a tripod, his concentration was total.  Clearly this was a camera but one belonging to another era.  He drew curious glances from a few early morning shoppers.  Over the following weeks I registered the man’s quiet presence as I worked my way around my regular Saturday morning haunts.  Intrigued but mindful of disturbing his concentration, I walked on by.  Then he was gone and I’d missed my chance to discover just what he was up to.
                 
Several months later a blog post from my favourite local social historian popped up on my computer screen.  ‘The Gentle Author’ blogs each and every day about life, past and present, in and around his beloved London borough of Spitalfields.  Photography is a favourite means of expression for him and once you discover this wonderful blog you become hooked on a daily dose of prose and, often haunting, images.   This particular day brought moody, arresting portraits.  Each subject held the eye with a strong, confident gaze; but were they contemporary or from a time past?  It was difficult to say at first glance.  Yet I recognised every single one of them, each captured in a pause in the working day.  They were the food traders I buy from every Saturday.

Elliott
Polaroid photograph
© Tif Hunter

These photographs were the work of my mystery man, Tif Hunter.  By talking to the traders I learned there were more wonderful portraits and they shyly shared some of them with me.  There was a quiet pride, shared vicariously by those of us who knew the subjects.  Appetite by now thoroughly stimulated, thankfully Tif Hunter opened his studio in Bermondsey to show all of the portraits.  Alongside these hangings was another of his enthusiasms, ‘still-lifes’ using the Tintype process employed by early photographic pioneers.  The show was called ‘On Maltby Street 2011’ and was a project documenting the Saturday morning shopping scene in this Bermondsey food haven.  Nigel Slater has described Maltby Street as “A slightly secret and hidden place, where supply goes with the ebb and flow of the seasons, where there is a constantly evolving group of traders bringing things to tempt and delight”.  For Tif this exactly describes the area and its inhabitants that he knows so well – his perfect High Street

The studio sits just in the unfashionable side of Bermondsey, away from the Fashion Museum and the hip White Cube Gallery.  A wonderfully understated space with grey plaster and exposed brick walls.  On entering, you can’t miss, centre stage, the beautiful 10x8 specially-made wooden camera with antique brass lens. This is the camera on which the Tintypes were shot.  Alongside, and sharing exactly the same overall technology,  is a 5x4 Sinar precision Swiss made, large format, camera with a Schneider lens dating from the 1970s.  This very different beast allowed Tif to achieve his striking portraits using scarce Polaroid Type 55 film. 

The Type 55 film produces an instant positive print and a fine-grained, long tonal range, extremely high resolution negative.  The negative needs to be dipped in fixer to protect it from scratching before the final prints can be made.  Tif rapidly got to know, intuitively, when he had the shot he wanted.  After a few attempts at carrying chemicals to do the fixing ‘in the field’, he began to dash back to his nearby studio.  By peeling back the film here, he was able to minimise damage to the negative image before fixing it in a more controlled manner. 

Katie
Polaroid photograph
© Tif Hunter

Begun in Spring 2011, the portraits on show included butchers, bakers and, yes, even a candlestick maker (Steve Benbow, otherwise known as The London Honeyman, who sells beeswax candles as well as honey).  Most subjects look intently and confidently straight into the camera, their faces full of character.  No instructions were given, other than to look into the lens and keep very still when asked.  Most of the faces register curiosity in what’s going on beyond that lens.   All are shot in natural light and the results are unsparing in their detail.  Tif talks passionately about the photograph of Emma – calm, self-contained, hair blowing in the breeze, her spotted dress echoed in the weather-pitted backdrop to the shot.

So what is it like being the subject of one of Tif’s portraits?  None of the sitters could imagine what the outcome of their few moments in front of the camera was to be.  There was a certain amount of reticence.  Lucie just remembers being “pulled outside” without any time to think about it.  Standing for a full 5 minutes gazing into the lens, Archie felt the nearness of the camera, a little too close for comfort, but was fascinated by the mystique of the old-style techniques. Harry recalls the cold and thinking he couldn’t really spare the time in his working day for this.  These portraits show the affection of the photographer for his subjects and a reciprocated admiration of traditional skills.

Green Tomatoes
Tintype photograph
© Tif Hunter

We move on to the Tintypes.  Dating from 1856, Tintypes are a variant on the wet-plate collodion method invented by Englishman Frederick Scott Archer in 1851.  Although not used much in this country, tintypes were valued in the USA into the early 1900’s for their affordability and durability, and the fact you could create a unique photograph almost immediately.  We’ve all seen those images of American Civil War soldiers posing proudly in their uniforms.  Tintypes were the medium of choice where a blackened sheet of metal is coated with collodion, sensitised in silver nitrate, and, whilst still wet, the sheet is placed in the camera.  Developing and fixing follow immediately after the picture is taken and the image is then washed, dried and varnished.   

This is the process Tif used for his still-life photographs of the produce he was buying from these artisan traders.  Since the Tintype is a camera-original positive, all Tintype images appear reversed (left-to-right) from reality.  This is particularly evident in the writing on an oatmeal tin filled with fresh flowers, which is one of the still-life images.  From the Tintypes he produced, Tif made printed enlargements of some which proved a fascinating addition to the ‘On Maltby Street’ project. 

It was intriguing to find that a group of red tomatoes appear very dark with highlights provided by natural light, yet a similar group of under-ripe green tomatoes appear similarly dark.  This is because the camera picks up the red pigment which is also in the unripe fruit; it’s just that the eye cannot see it as it’s at the UV end of the spectrum, not the red.

Q&A

Q. You’re a professional photographer working with the latest equipment so what inspired you to go back to basics and shoot with a large format plate camera?
A.  After a number of years of shooting only digitally I felt that I needed to return to the magic of the analogue and the darkroom.  Embracing both the craft and the unexpected in these methods was how I had started in photography.  In the Tintype medium, the alchemy and physical textural qualities of the results is that much more amazing than the black and white methods that I had already known.

Q.  We’re now so used to being able to check immediately what the image we’ve taken looks like, but how much idea do you have of the result when you’ve taken the photograph?
 A. Polaroid 55 Film is very scarce so you can’t afford to waste it.  Consequently I limited myself to a maximum of 2 sheets per subject so I have to know by instinct when it’s right.

Q.  What drew you to the subject of food traders?
 A.  Obviously I have a love of good food.  I feel so lucky to be able to ‘shop local’ and have my own village High Street here in Bermondsey.  This project is very close to my heart and it was an opportunity to celebrate the artisans and the medium.

Q.  What, or who, influenced you to work with the tintype process?
A.  I came across Tintypes when doing some research on the Internet.  Finding John Coffer, the father of Tintypes, was the catalyst.  I’m now completely addicted.

Q.  I know artists are rarely completely satisfied with their work but how do you feel about this project and do you plan to continue with it?
 A.  You’re right, it’s hard to be completely satisfied but I’ve loved doing it.  I may add a few more portraits and will definitely shoot more food related still lifes but I regard the project as complete.

Q.  Do you have any other personal projects planned?
 A.  Yes, but they are only thoughts at the moment.  I do want to continue to shoot portraits but I’m interested in Tintypes this time.

Before I leave, Tif shows me a Tintype portrait he has taken of a fellow photographer.  With Tintypes the pose has to be held for longer so who better than a sympathetic fellow photographer to sit for you.  The subject is framed standing to the left of centre, as if he has just entered the room, paused, and is weighing up the situation.  Highly atmospheric, it’s a beautiful example of what can be achieved when you go back to basics.  Tif mentions the sitter, on seeing the result, commented “you’ve brought out the Irish in me”.  If these forays into Tintype portraits result in an exhibition, I for one will be first in line for a viewing.

Update on the traders ‘On Maltby Street 2011’ at April 2015:
Most of the original artisan traders ‘On Maltby Street’ have now moved 10 minutes East but can still be found occupying the Bermondsey railway arches in an area known as Spa Terminus


About Tif Hunter
Tif Hunter is an award-winning advertising and editorial photographer who has exhibited at the National Portrait Gallery, London. His extensive body of work includes a collaboration with Stephen Bayley on “Cars – Freedom, Style, Sex, Power, Motion, Colour, Everything”.
In October 2012 Tif Hunter’s Tintype of a Romanesco vegetable won Best in Category for Non-Commissioned Object at the AOP (The Association of Photographers) Awards.  Tif Hunter was elected a member of The Art Workers’ Guild.  In 2014, as part of the Negativeless exhibition at the Michael Hoppen Gallery, he exhibited an intriguing piece called Rochambeau, a combination of skilled carpentry and inspired tintype images.  Among Tif Hunter’s latest work is the Toast Spring/Summer 2015 Lookbook employing the Tintype portrait methods I’ve been lucky enough to see him use at his studio. 

See also:

About The Gentle Author
The Gentle Author writes a daily blog ‘Spitalfields Life’ www.spitalfieldslife.com



Saturday 11 April 2015

Birdsong and Broccoli

Broccoli - mainly purple, some white

The birdsong gets louder, and more diverse, by the day.  When that first 'crack of dawn' appears on the horizon the concert begins, progressing from adagio to crescendo in the space of a couple of hours.  I wish I could say I know this because I am experiencing these recitals first-hand but, in truth, it's a vicarious participation for me right now.  This Spring I know about the dawn chorus like I know about the beauty of the sunrise - from friends lucky enough to live by a green space, or have windows facing east.  For the lucky ones, both of the above apply.  Aspect and sound are all important when you live in a city.  Sunrise or sunset, green space or an easy commute. Compromise is certain for the vast majority.




I am a committed townie but, much as I love urban life, the absence of birdsong outside my window is a nagging loss.  I'm not a life-long Londoner, so I know what I'm missing out on.  Birdsong is out there amongst the brick and concrete but most city dwellers have to seek it out in the park, the community garden or city farm.  The lucky few find it in their own little patch of green, or for those fortunate recipients of a key, in the garden square.  The luckiest of all, in my view, find it on the allotment.  Once derided as only for the retired, now lusted after as a must-have accessory for our times; the allotment is what makes it possible for me to survive in a city of 8.3 million people.

Allotment:  A  small piece of, usually, public land rented by an individual for cultivation

Wild violets

Through the creaking oak gate I go, past the sooty-tipped Ash tree where white violets are lifting their lavender-tinted heads.  Their perfume is kept secret from anyone who's not prepared to kneel down and  nuzzle the bosky depths playing host to them.  Stepping onto my allotment is like stepping into another world.  The sound of birds singing their hearts out is almost shocking after the dull hum of the city.  It's the Blackbird, Robin, Wren, Blue Tit, Chaffinch and Wood Pigeon that are most at home here.  Happy to tolerate humans, happy to take advantage of our digging, our sloppy housekeeping, and very happy at our forgetfulness to safeguard berries and brassicas.  In return we get to hear their songs.  A more than fair exchange, I think.

A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute.

Hamlet 

Broad Bean Grando Violetto

If my allotment neighbours hadn't come to my rescue last summer there would be nothing at all to harvest right now.  In mid-Spring a carefully prepared seedbed had been sown with broccoli, cabbage and kale, watered gently and diligently, and scanned obsessively for signs of germination. Faint signs of growth had appeared, fingers were crossed that the little green spikes were brassicas rather than bedstraw.  Then the freak rainstorm hit.  Rivulets gouged pathways through the soil, fragile roots were exposed and delicate seedlings carried off like paper boats on a river.  By the time I accepted that every single one was lost, the time for starting from scratch had passed.  News of successes and failures travels fast on the allotment and, soon, spare plants were proffered and gratefully accepted.


Broad bean seedlings - Wizard & Grando Violetto

This year will be different. I will not put all my eggs in one basket.  An £8 propagator has already produced seedlings of broad beans, broccoli, cabbages, kale and celeriac.  This year I will have plants to spare to come to someone else's rescue. Now it's early April and we are itching to get on with the new growing season.  Broad beans, peas, spinach and early potatoes are planted but without those donations of cabbage, broccoli and kale seedlings there would be no reward for our day's labours.

Purple Sprouting Broccoli seedlings

So, what to do with my harvest?  Anchovies are an invaluable store cupboard ingredient for lifting any number of dishes from salads to roast lamb.  They're particularly good with salad leaves or green vegetables.  Italians like to use them in a sauce with puntarelle, chicory or spinach.  It's hardly original, I know, but I love them with Broccoli and I just happen to have a fantastic crop right now. I have a preference for Purple Sprouting but an anchovy sauce also works with White Sprouting and most spring greens.  Salted anchovies are wonderful but, the more widely-available, tinned ones in olive oil are fine.  Quantities here are just a guide.

Purple (or white) Sprouting Broccoli with Anchovy butter
(Serves 2)

2 good handfuls of Broccoli (or other spring greens)
60g (2oz) unsalted butter (or good olive oil if you prefer)
1 tin of anchovies (I drain the oil as I'm never happy with using it)

Steam the broccoli until just tender. 
Melt (warm through) the butter (olive oil) in a frying pan.  Add the roughly-chopped anchovies and cook, stirring, until the anchovies melt into a sauce.  Remove from the heat.
Add the steamed broccoli and toss in the sauce to coat.

Serve with crusty bread.


Robin


London is blessed with its green spaces but let's hear it for more trees for cities. Meanwhile, thank goodness for 'Tweet of the Day'.