by David Long
He got the place, switched schools and – deciding never to cut or comb his hair again – grew such a long, matted mess of a mane that he could sit on it quite comfortably.
After taking a degree in neurobiology, he travelled to Asia, becoming a habitual user of hallucinogenic fly agaric and a lifelong fruitarian. Sadly, a lack of vitamin B in this diet combined with a bout of TB to finish him off in his fifties, but not before Love had become a familiar figure around Kew where he had a shop selling runic jewellery, dinosaur eggs and fossilised animal poo.
12
Eating London
‘I think what’s going on with gorillas is pretty bad.
The fact is that you can buy gorilla meat in London any day you want it.’
Adam Ant
Dishes Invented in London
Scotch Eggs
The word ‘tartan’ is English and comes from the French ‘tire-tain’; kilts were originally Norse, not Gaelic, and Anatolian Hittites were playing tunes on bagpipes as long ago as 1000 BC. Perhaps it’s no surprise then that the Scotch egg isn’t Scottish either. The first was invented in 1738 by staff at Fortnum and Mason in Piccadilly, and inspired by a traditional Mughal dish of boiled eggs stuffed inside a shell of ground lamb mixed with several spices called ‘nargisi kofta’. (The store was also the first to sell baked beans, incidentally, having bought H. J. Heinz’s entire stock in 1866.)
Tinned Food
The means of preserving food in this way dates back to 1810 when a Hoxton merchant called Peter Durand patented a sealed metal canister after demonstrating that food could be safely sealed inside it for long periods. Unfortunately, his canisters had to be opened using a hammer – the invention of the can-opener was still more than fifty years away – and, in 1812, Durand sold his rights in the invention for £1,000.
Omelette Arnold Bennett
The popular early twentieth-century writer was a frequent guest at the Savoy, and on his behalf the kitchens created a rich egg dish of Parmesan cheese, smoked haddock and cream. While the name of the chef responsible has been lost – the celebrated Escoffier had been dismissed back in 1898, accused of conspiring with César Ritz to steal thousands of pounds’ worth of wine – the omelette has remained on the menu ever since.
Chicken Tikka Masala
A perennially popular takeaway dish but one that, in the words of the Daily Telegraph, ‘does not exist in Indian cuisine’. Chicken tikka masala is thought now to account for around 15 per cent of all the curries consumed in Britain, and while its inventor cannot be positively identified, the food writer Charles Campion has traced its origins to London in the 1970s. It was, he says, created ‘so that the ignorant could have gravy with their chicken tikka’.
Wedding Cake
The tradition of having a tiered cake to celebrate a couple’s nuptials is thought to have been inspired by the distinctive, stepped spire of St Bride’s, Fleet Street. At 226 ft, it is the second-tallest Wren church in London – only St Paul’s reaches higher.
It is a coincidence that female participants are known as ‘brides’, which is a word with German origins and nothing whatsoever to do with the diminutive of the Irish St Bridget.
Fish and Chips
Various rival claims have been made about who invented this most traditional of English meals but, in 1968, the National Federation of Fish Friers recognised that of Joseph Malin. Living in Cleveland Way, Whitechapel, in 1860, the Jewish émigré was the first to combine the staple of fried fish – brought into this country by Jewish refugees from seventeenth-century Spain and Portugal – with the newly fashionable chipped potato.
Twiglets
By 1929, Peek, Frean and Co. of Clements Road, Bermondsey, was one of the country’s most successful biscuit-makers. Keen to expand after more than seventy years in the business, the company charged its French technical manager, Rondalin Zwadoodie, with the responsibility of coming up with an entirely new line. Zwadoodie experimented with the firm’s Vitawheat dough and some yeast extract and, by Christmas that year, the savoury snack was perfected and on sale.
EXTRAORDINARY PLACES TO EAT
1820
When a new cross and ball were installed above the dome of St Paul’s, the architect C. R. Cockerell celebrated by hosting a small luncheon inside the ball.
1827
Hoping to prove his new Thames Tunnel was safe, Marc Brunel held a banquet for forty VIPs beneath the Thames with music provided by the Coldstream Guards. It wasn’t, however, and the tunnel flooded shortly afterwards.
1843
Before Nelson was finally hoisted into place, fourteen stonemasons sat down to a draughty, vertigo-inducing supper on top of the world’s tallest Corinthian column.
1853
The pioneering palaeontologist who first coined the term ‘dinosaur’, Professor Richard Owen was among the guests at a New Year’s Eve dinner held inside a life-size cement model of an iguanadon, which now stands in Crystal Palace Park.
1912
The sculpture of four horses and a chariot on top of the Wellington Arch at Hyde Park Corner is the work of Adrian Jones. On completing the monumental bronze – called Quadriga – he entertained seven guests to dinner inside it.
2009
Rootmaster, a so-called ‘bustaurant’, was a Brick Lane-based vegan eatery. It was housed on the top deck of a traditional red London bus, but has sadly closed.
2010
Located on Clerkenwell Green, the aptly named Dans le Noir invites diners to eat in pitch blackness, the room sealed off from all sources of light in order that the taste and texture of the food can be appreciated to the full.
Eating by Numbers
Each year at Wimbledon’s All England Tennis Club, spectators, players and officials consume more than 60,000 lb of strawberries over the course of a fortnight, together with 1,850 gallons of cream and 17,000 bottles of Champagne.
At a typical Buckingham Palace garden party, 400 staff are involved in serving approximately 27,000 cups of tea, 20,000 sandwiches and 20,000 slices of cake.
The capital’s largest-ever sporting event, the XXX Olympiad – a.k.a. London 2012 – posed even greater challenges and, during the course of the Games, deliveries to the athletes’ village included 25,000 loaves of bread, 232 tons of potatoes and 82 tons of seafood, more than 100 tons of meat, 19 tons of eggs and 21 tons of cheese. Fruit and veg accounted for another 360 tons of deliveries.
Wembley Stadium has a total of 34 bars, 8 restaurants, 98 different kitchens and 688 food and drink service points. On match days, approximately 40,000 pints of beer can be served at half-time, while soft drinks can be dispensed by machine at a rate of nearly 3,000 a minute.
London’s most expensive takeaway meal is thought to be an order of sushi from Ubon in Canary Wharf that was chauffeur-driven to Luton airport and flown out to the Azerbaijani capital Baku on one of Roman Abramovich’s private jets. The cost of this has been estimated at £40,000.
In 1925, the world’s largest banquet was held at Olympia in west London. According to a Pathé newsreel at the time, some 1,300 waitresses served 8,000 Freemasons seated at more than five miles of trestle tables arranged around the main exhibition hall.
Mayfair’s Le Gavroche found its way into the Guinness Book of World Records in 1997 when three guests racked up a bill of £13,000. This dwarfed the experience of the diner who did a runner from the Connaught when his bill came to £986, but is in turn modest by the standards of One for One Park Lane where a single bottle of Armand de Brignac Champagne – admittedly quite a large one – could set you back £80,000.
13
Working London
‘I would rather start out somewhere small, like London or England.’
Britney Spears
Odd Jobs – Something in the City
Traditionally a retired Army officer of senior rank, the Constable of the Tower of London – of which, in the course of nearly 1,000 years, there have been 159 – lives on site, has custody of the Crown Jewe
ls and can still claim a number of extraordinary perks as part of the job. These include any horses, cattle, pigs or sheep that fall off London Bridge; the cargo of any wagons that fall into the moat; 6s. 8d. (just over 33p) from any vessel fishing between the Tower and Thames Estuary; and a shilling (5p) from those bringing herring into the City. He is also provided with a barrel of rum from any ship of the Royal Navy that ties up at Tower Wharf.
Still at the Tower, the Yeoman Warder Ravenmaster is responsible for the welfare of its iconic feathered guardians, each of which enjoys a daily ration of 6oz of raw meat from Smithfield and bird biscuits soaked in blood. There are seven birds in all – the six ordained by Charles II, plus a spare – and only one has ever been dismissed, for chewing television aerials. Such is their status that when a seventeenth-century Astronomer Royal complained that the birds were interfering with his observatory, he was packed off to Greenwich and the birds allowed to remain.
The post of Royal Herb Strewer dates back to the Stuart court, when the need was felt to shield the sovereign and his retinue from the filth and odour of the streets by strewing his path with aromatic herbs. For this, James II paid a woman £12 anually as ‘garnisher and trimmer of the chapel, presence and privy lodgings’, and today the role is still performed on ceremonial occasions by a female descendant of Anne Fellowes who filled the role at the Coronation of George IV.
The Swanmarker, an officer of the Royal Household, assists with the annual swan-upping ceremony, effectively a census of swans on certain reaches of the Thames. The sovereign owns all unmarked birds, a prerogative dating back to the twelfth century when swan was a valuable source of meat, and any marked birds are deemed to belong to one of two Livery Companies, the Vintners and the Dyers. This means the Swanmarker has never actually marked a swan, of course, and indeed the ceremony was cancelled in 2012 due to flooding, the first time this has happened.
Dating back to the 1150s, the Queen’s Remembrancer, the oldest judicial appointment in the country, oversees the payment of ancient ‘Quit Rents’. These are payable each year at the Exchequer Court – so-called as the rent would be counted out on a chequered cloth – and include: a pair of knives (one blunt, one sharp) for a parcel of land in Shropshire; 6 horseshoes and 61 nails for an old forge that once stood to the south of the Strand; and £11 for the City’s interest in ‘the Towne and Borough of Southwark’. (See Chapter 21 for more on this.)
While Freemen of the City of London are allowed to carry swords in the Square Mile (see Chapter 17), there is only one Swordbearer of London, who is based at the Mansion House. Another medieval appointment, this was first described in 1419 when it was established that the Lord Mayor should have ‘at his own expense’ someone to carry his sword before him. ‘A well-bred man and one who knows how in all places, in that which unto such service pertains, to support the honour of his Lord and of the City.’ The Swordbearer is supplied with a fur or Muscovy hat for his term in office, containing a pocket to safeguard the Seal of the City of London.
BIZARRE THINGS INSURED BY LLOYD’S OF LONDON
The taste buds of restaurant critic Egon Ronay in 1957 for £250,000.
The fingers of Harvey Lowe who won London’s 1932 Yo-Yo World Championships and went on to teach the Prince of Wales how to do it; and Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones.
The legs of Riverdance star Michael Flatley, who reportedly insured them for £30 million at the height of his career.
A grain of rice was insured for £12,500; the single grain was decorated with a microscopic portrait of the Queen and Prince Philip.
Comics Abbott and Costello paid for a £250,000 insurance policy to cover their good humour, providing them with a secure future if they ever argued and fell out so badly that they could no longer work as a double act.
In the 1980s, Australian cricketer Mervyn Hughes insured his ‘trademark’ moustache against loss or damage. (Tom Jones is similarly rumoured to have insured his chest hair.)
The owners of Cutty Sark whisky once offered £1 million to anyone who could capture the Loch Ness Monster, and insured themselves just in case anyone did. (Similar cover was taken out by the makers of the TV quiz Who Wants to be a Millionaire? on which there have been five millionaire winners in the UK.)
The comedian Ken Dodd insured his teeth for an astonishing £4.5 million.
The voices of Bob Dylan, the Beatles and Bruce Springsteen are all known to have been insured at some point during their careers.
The publishers of a book about Princess Anne and Captain Mark Phillips took out a policy protecting them against the royal couple breaking up in case the couple changed their minds ahead of publication.
The actor Jimmy ‘Schnozzle’ Durante insured his best-known feature – his nose.
Mindful it can go at any time, Bette Davis insured her waistline against sudden, unexpected expansion.
In the 1960s, the world’s second captive killer whale, Namu – the first was a female called Moby Doll – was insured for his purchase price of $8,000. (It wasn’t enough – at his new home in Seattle, Namu would eat 400 lb of salmon at a sitting.)
The world’s largest cigar – 12½ ft long, 315 hours in the making and comprising 15,903 tobacco leaves – would reportedly take 339 days and nights to smoke, and was insured just in case anyone put a match to it.
The Worst Business Decisions Ever Made in London
Decca and the Beatles
Decca’s Mike Smith and Dick Rowe famously signed Brian Poole and the Tremeloes instead of the Beatles. They declared, ‘Not to mince words, Mr Epstein, but we don’t like your boys’ sound. Groups are out . . . four-piece groups with guitars particularly are finished.’ The Fab Four have so far sold more than a billion records with EMI (see below) and Brian hasn’t.
British Airways and Margaret Thatcher
In the 1990s, BA spent a fortune devising new ‘ethnic’ tail-fin designs and painting out the Union Flags on its fleet in the belief that these offended foreign passengers. The Prime Minister immediately indicated her displeasure at the move, with publicity-hungry rival Virgin grabbing hundreds of column inches by painting flags on its own aircraft. BA eventually executed a U-turn.
Royal Mail and Consignia
In 2002, an outfit called Dragon Brands somehow persuaded the 350-year-old Royal Mail to adopt an entirely meaningless name. Labour minister Stephen Byers approved the expensive change, but the public hated it and pundits were soon suggesting ‘consignia’ sounded like the Spanish for lost luggage. It was also pointed out, at a time when the future of the Post Office was in doubt, that Consignia plc was an unfortunate anagram of ‘panic closing’. The name, inevitably, was soon switched back.
Baring Brothers and Nick Leeson
Britain’s oldest merchant bank, the archetype of a venerable City institution, after more than 230 years in business Baring Brothers came crashing to the ground when its ‘rogue trader’ was jailed for his part in the £860-million collapse. A shocking tale of bad deals, secret accounts and a lack of oversight by bank bosses, the mid-1990s saga has since been repeated several times elsewhere and on an even larger scale.
GEC and Marconi
For years, a cash-rich behemoth headquartered in Magnet House, Kingsway, GEC was cautiously guided by the shrewd, defensive Lord Weinstock to become Britain’s largest private employer. Unfortunately, the moment he stepped down, the new guys decided to buy Marconi, rebranding and ‘re-engineering’ a large and successful business and abandoning what its managers and staff knew best. The timing could not have been worse, and, after the dot.com bubble burst in 2000, a company that at its peak had been worth £35 billion was sold for just over £1 billion.
EMI and Guy Hands
Ex-Goldman Sachs, ex-Nomura and, briefly, Britain’s largest pub landlord, tax exile and buyout-baron, Guy Hands spent billions buying EMI in 2007 before suing his bank over claims that it had tricked him into paying too much for the ailing music giant. The courts disagreed, however, and, when the dust settled, m
ore than a hundred years of recorded-music history was broken up, sold on and scattered to the winds.
Made in London –
Surprisingly Old Inventions
Fax Machine
One of several pioneers working in the field of telephotography – or should that be phototelegraphy? – physicist Shelford Bidwell made his first ‘scanning phototelegraph’ in 1881. By 1908, similar equipment had been used to send the authorities in London a photograph of a criminal who had gone on the run, and in November 1924, a photograph of President Calvin Coolidge sent from New York to London became the first photograph to be reproduced by transoceanic radio facsimile.
Airship
It takes nothing away from the Frenchman Jules Henri Giffard, but the first powered flight by an airship was made here in England using a scale model manufactured by Thomas Monck Mason. Powered by clockwork propellers, and 13 ft long, the spindle-shaped craft first took to the air in 1834 and was later put on display at the Lowther Arcade in the Strand.
Street Lighting
The first street in the world to be lit by gas, from June 1807 Pall Mall was artificially illuminated using pipes made from old musket barrels to withstand the pressure of the coal gas. The installation was intended to celebrate King George III’s birthday, and decorative gas mantles are still to be seen in the street today outside the Royal Automobile Club.