june 07

good cateress newsletter June/July 07


Summer Sundays at the Folly, while setting up we would periodically stand in the windows and watch all the yachts sailing up the river Medina, tying up to come ashore for lunch. In those days pubs were open from 12 - 2pm on Sunday lunchtimes. Groups of people would be waiting on the balcony, having already bagged their tables, for Dad to open the doors. We would barely lift our heads for those two hours. Some Sundays we would completely run out of glasses, despite constantly going out to buss.

When we were living on the mainland in the mid 60’s we would drive down to help Murray and Janette for the summer weekends. I loved to be the snack bar girl; Mum and Janette would be back in the kitchen, baking more sausages and chicken, and making more soup. I was very good at adding and for the most part polite. When it was quiet I could eat a Mars bar or Kit Kat, and I got ‘tips’ far more than when I was older when I had become Jaded Jane. I always confused customers as I asked whether they would prefer breast or thigh of the chicken and then gave them the opposite as I thought one was the other!

Because we closed at 2pm we had time for ourselves on sundays, and our favourite destination was Mrs. Holbrookes over in Bembridge at the easterly point of the island.

I first remember going to Mrs. Holbrookes when I was 11 or so years
old. Unfortunately the thing I remember about that first tea, was my
father called Simon his son and heir. I pointed out that I was the
oldest and therefore the heir. Dads response was I said son and heir.
For the first time I realized I was a girl, a woman, and that women
didn’t always count. It rather took away from the Mrs. Holbrookes
experience. Subsequently it was all about the prawns.

Mrs. Holbrooke lived in a Bungalow in the Forelands part of Bembridge . There is a pebbly, windy beach that is also home to the RNLI rescue boat. I always thought Mrs. Holbrooke was old but in truth she was probably not that much older than mum and dad, the gray permed hair, that was such a part of an older generation of British women added to that impression. Mr. Holbrooke was a fisherman, he had crab, lobster and prawn pots, nets for the prawns. I don't ever remember seeing him but I loved his shellfish and have never had any shellfish as good. In the summer the Holbrookes turned their dining room and living room into a tea room.

Our table would be waiting for us, depending on how many of us there
would be, but mostly we had the large table on the left as we walked
in. There were basically three choices, Prawn salad, dressed crab salad
or half a lobster salad, served with either brown or white bread and
butter; hot cups of steaming tea. I think you could also have cheese
salad or a ham salad, but we never did.

Mr. Holbrooke had pulled the makings of our tea that morning from his pots. Prawns bright pink some carrying their egg sacks between their legs. The sweetest most delicious shellfish ever. They are similar to the Maine shrimp we get here occasionally in the winter.

Dressed crab in its shell, picked white meat down the center, brown
meat on the sides with a sprig of parsley.

Lobster, Mums favourite, she would eat every piece of meat from
hers. Sucking the meat from the legs, there would literally just be the
dry carcass left. I like Lobster well enough, but I suspect it is
wasted on me!

Big bowls of salad, but old fashioned English salad. What I refer to as
limpy lettuce, (Boston), slices of tomato, Isle of Wight of course,
cucumber and hard boiled egg, usually served with salad cream rather
than mayonaise but it was heaven. Mum and I would often talk about
taking some Mayonaise, but we never did. It would have changed the
entire experience.

The prawns still had their shells on; twist of the head, peel the body
armour off, pinch the tail and wallah a luscious prawn. The first one
or two popped instantly into the mouth, tasting of the briny sea. I
would eat them with a triangle of brown bread and butter, instantly
feeling rejuvenated. Silence at the table as we all ate and slowly
recovered, broken only by ‘pass the bread’ or ‘can I have another cup of
tea’. I would then move onto the Dressed crab, mixing the brown and
white meat with a little salt, pepper and salad cream. I have never
been sure why there is no brown meat with the crab here, I assume it is
because they are different crabs, certainly the blue crabs would not
have the brown meat. In England we have both, even the frozen has half white and half brown, they taste quite different and are magical when mixed together. I make crab tea sandwiches for good cateress, in honour
of Mrs. Holbrooke, yes, with the brown bread and butter, limpy lettuce,
but I use mayonaise to moisten the crab.

There were cakes and ices too for afters, but we didn’t often need them.
We would head down to the beach. Simon, mum and Bilbo, our
retriever, would swim. It would have to be REALLY hot for me to get in
the water and it never was. I would walk and look in the rock pools if
the tide was out. Someone would find a decent stick washed up on the
beach and we would have a game of Rounders or Cricket, before heading home.

Once home we would retire to our own places for a peace or a nap. I
would often lie down on the lawn in the grass, watching the bees buzzing
in the flowers and gently fall asleep. A perfect summers Sunday
afternoon, replete and content.



Have a wonderful 4th July!