Sipsmith Gin with The Crimson Petal and the White

Sipsmith is the gin that makes so many of the current crop of artisanal craft gins possible, it's hard to overstate what a game changer it's been, and it all started with two men who had grown up as friends and both gone into the drinks industry. Sam Galsworthy, and Fairfax Hall.

Somewhere along the line they decided they wanted to make their own gin, and do roughly a decade ago that's what they set out to do. And instantly hit a huge HMRC shaped stumbling block. The problem was that they were proposing to produce under 300 litres at a time (Chase got around a similar problem by buying a bigger still) which would technically have classed their gin as moonshine. After a couple of years wrangling, and selling their houses to fund the project, the law was changed and a licence was granted. The first licence for a copper pot still based in London to be granted for over 180 years. Its still on the wall in the now expanded distillery premises in Chiswick, partly handwritten, because there was no dedicated form to fill in at the time.

With the help of distiller Jared Brown, and a still called Prudence (named after Gordon Brown's speech about fiscal prudence) they went into production in what had been whisky writer, Michael Jackson's garage (it had also been a micro brewery at one time; a garage with a serious drinks pedigree) and don't seem to have looked back since.

Sipsmith was the first gin distillery I visited, and after any number of whisky distillers it came as quite a surprise. Prudence looked tiny, she wouldn't even need a big garage, suddenly going into gin production seemed eminently possible...

Sipsmith's is a traditional London dry gin, has a nice balance between citrus and juniper, is well rounded and smooth, and is altogether a classic in the making. They continue to innovate, have a particularly good website (See here) where I've found some brilliant cocktail recipes*, and generally do a very, very, good job indeed whilst looking like they're having a great time in the process.

I've chosen 'The Crimson Petal and the White' to go with Sipsmith's because I feel they both demonstrate where craft meets art. Both pay homage to a certain Victorian can do spirit, neither get bogged down in nostalgia or historical trappings. Mostly though, it's the feeling that both book and gin are so very well crafted that makes me want to associate them with each other.

*It was on a Sipsmith label that I found a recipe for something called White Cargo. It's provenance goes back to the '20's, it's roughly equal amounts of gin and good quality vanilla ice cream, shaken until smooth. I can't say I personally loved it, but it's always been ridiculously popular at customer tastings, so it's worth a try - the ice cream means no need to mess around with ice, and it has the beauty of being simple. It's also where I found The Bee's Hot Knees - which is far more to my taste.

It really is quite cold outside...

And to prove it good old radio 4 unearthed some Norwegians tonight who were happy to confirm all our suspicions and state that it is indeed chilly out. I’m inside and it’s chilly here too, I’ve been at the Scottish ones place in the country most the weekend sitting by his nice warm radiators drinking mulled wine and the idiosyncrasies of my central heating means that now I’m home I’ll have to wait for hours for the heaters to heat. I’ve washed up for the pleasure of having my hands in warm water, baked to heat the kitchen, and am even considering ironing something when I give over huddling around my laptop for warmth.

In fact it’s so cold indoors that I was forced to go shopping this afternoon (bread, milk, extra hot water bottle...) and suddenly I’m feeling like I might be winning against Christmas. Today’s purchases, a trip to Nottingham yesterday, and a whole lot of stuff turning up in the post and my mindset has moved from panic to the sort of pride in my organisational skills that normally comes before a fall. I do apologise if I seem Christmas obsessed, but I’ve not really thought of anything else for the last month, and for now can’t see much beyond the big day. It’s a feeling that wears off but if I don’t do the preparation now I won’t be ready (or able) to enjoy myself when I actually get to stop. I think on the whole this is just how I want it – retail at Christmas can be as exhilarating as it is exhausting, any lack of a leisured Victorian idyll of Christmas is more than made up for by being part of the madness of so many people’s real Christmases.

And now I’ve got that of my chest – today festive cheer is being bought to me via Michel Faber’s 'The Crimson Petal and the White'’ (and that extra hot water bottle) as you can see from the picture I’ve amassed quite a collection of these – unusually it’s a one book fits all affair. I loved ‘The Crimson Petal and the White’ when I read it earlier this year, am quite excited about the upcoming adaptation, and think it’s the perfect present. Looking back I’ve read books over the last year which were probably better and which have certainly touched me more deeply, but none which has absorbed me so much or which I’ve been as keen to share.

A gripping story about a prostitute’s rise from the gutter (very festive) it’s an absolute page turner which should allow any grateful recipient to escape into Faber’s extremely believable version of Victorian London. There’s just a hint of salacious trashiness about it – enough at any rate to make it feel like a guilty pleasure (In the same way that ‘Peyton Place’ or ‘Valley of the Dolls’ are) but also, and like that pair, more than enough substance to justify the amount of time that needs to be spent reading it. Winter is the time for stories and the more epic the better so anybody out there who gets a copy of this is very lucky indeed!

The Dead Secret – Wilkie Collins

Autumn isn’t my favourite time of year – I don’t mind winter but there’s something about the descent into it that I find dispiriting, but there are compensations. One of them is that autumn feels like the perfect season for Victoriana especially the more sensational kind and this September is being improved for me by Wilkie Collins.

There are a handful of his books I’ve been eyeing up for a read for a while and after ‘The Crimson Petal and The White’ I wanted to stay vaguely in period so went for ‘The Dead Secret’. It starts with a death bed scene followed by a dawn flight from a foreboding Cornish tower, and skips quickly to a dawn wedding some years later. In-between these events the only evidence of a Secret is hidden in said Cornish mansion...

When Rosamond Treverton marries Leonard Frankland it seems to be the most serendipitous of unions – childhood friends who fell in love, Leonards father has bought the Treverton family seat (that mysterious Cornish mansion again) Rosamond brings the money back to the family. Leonard Frankland has two important idiosyncrasies; he’s recently become blind and he’s very proud. His family were once landed gentry but more recently the money’s come from trade, something his father has taught him to be ever so slightly ashamed of. He believes in keeping a proper distance from the lower orders, in fact fundamentally believes in the idea of lower orders.

Rosamond is free from these particular prejudices, she’s a happy, loving, open hearted, and cheerful young woman devoted to her husband. If she has a fault it’s a quick and passionate temper. As the young couple journey south to take up their inheritance they are somewhat delayed by Rosamond producing a son and heir a month early. During her convalescence at a country inn she’s attended by a mysterious nurse who seems strangely agitated and warns her to avoid the Myrtle room at all costs when she reaches her new home.

All this warning does is determine Rosamond to find the room and reveal its secret – and here’s where the resemblance to ‘Cousin Henry’ comes in. The secret is contained in a hidden document which has the power to destroy Rosamond’s happiness and deprive her of her fortune in one fell swoop. She’s faced with the choice of telling her husband everything and hoping that love is enough to overcome his pride, or of destroying all evidence of a Secret no-one even suspects – something that would be made even simpler by Leonards blindness.

I hope it’s not too much of a spoiler to say that it all ends happily – both Leonard and Rosamond are unhesitatingly honest but this is by no means all there is to the book. In good Collins style there are a host of other bit players vividly drawn and displaying a plethora of eccentricities, there’s also the hint of a ghost story that conjures both real suspense and comedy into a particularly fraught part of proceedings.

Its Collins touches of comedy and the grotesque that make him so dear to me as a writer, but I think it’s his social conscience that elevates him to classic status. If ‘The Dead Secret’ is anything it’s an attack on the idea of class superiority. Here fortune is an accident – not even one of birth, what matters is a good and true heart, the rest being down to education and opportunity. Collins plays with ideas of legitimacy and identity in several of his novels, and reading ‘The Dead Secret’ it struck me again that surely some of the things he suggests must have been shocking to the society he belonged to. I think there’s some pretty revolutionary socialism going on here – as well as a turning on the head of my pre-conceived notions of what a Victorian audience would have found acceptable. Anyway I’m blowing the trumpet for Wilkie Collins – I think he deserves far more attention – especially when it comes to the lesser known novels, as the nights draw in and the duvet calls you can’t do much better for thought provoking entertainment!

The Augustus Egg painting above (one of a triptych called 'Past and Present') is just because I like it and because I feel it's in the spirit of Collins, though Collins would never allow such injustice to pass unpunished!

The Crimson Petal and the White – Michel Faber

Where to even start with this book? It’s one that I’ve picked up a few times over the years – lured by the book cover, only to put it down again when I realised it was contemporary, but an enthusiastic write up from Kirsty made me want to read it, and so only slightly daunted by the length (833 pages) I started.

‘The Crimson Petal and the White’ has clearly been waiting for me since, well since 2002 when it was published, and possibly the whole of the twenty years I’m sure I read it took to write before that. Honestly I don’t think I’ve fallen into, and in love with, a book so hard since Angela Carter’s ‘Nights at the Circus’ and that was a good few years ago. There have been a lot of much loved books over those years but they’ve been friends – a basically platonic relationship, this has been a fairly intense affair. I read it in a week, which meant outside of work I didn’t do much but read this book, or talk about it. My, but I must have been fun to be around – the blonde has already given in under the pressure and bought her own copy, she’d better start reading it soon...

Having established that I liked the book (a lot) I now have the slightly harder job of trying to put my finger on where exactly the magic lies. This is the story of Sugar a distressingly experienced young prostitute, her lover, his wife and a wider ripple of other characters. The narrative is juggled between protagonists with quite dazzling dexterity – it changed perspective often enough to keep me turning pages avidly but never drifted off course. Sugar is determined to have a better life, William is determined to have Sugar, and Agnes (the wife) is determined to keep her place in society despite her precarious grasp on health and reality.

The plot is basically the way these characters lives change through contact with each other – it’s hard to say much more without giving away plot spoilers which I’m loathe to do but I won’t be spoiling the surprise if I say there’s plenty of sex (which avoids the pitfalls of being to gratuitously described), some death, some religion, plenty to make you think about the position of men and women in society, and quite a bit about the nature of prostitution - and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Still there are plenty of books which offer all these things so what’s special about this one?

What really caught me from the first moment was the way the narrator pulled me in as a fellow voyeur (there must be a technical term for this device, please tell me what it is if you know) it felt appropriate for the nature of the book, and it also made me very aware of the physical presence of the book. Its weight and feel in my hands added to the barrage of smells, sights, and sound that pervade the story; it felt right. The second thing I realise I really liked is the emphasis on smell, and on bodily functions – normally something ignored in the books I read, but it’s ridiculously easy to empathise with a heroine who’s worrying about when she’ll next be able to pee. I appreciated too that Faber doesn’t try to write like a Victorian, he uses some slang terms which feel right, but nothing to distract or annoy the reader, just lovely words that fit together effortlessly and make you want to read on and on...

It might be that there are faults or moments of clumsiness in this book, but I was far too caught up in it to notice – it feels like a masterpiece. What I did notice was craftsmanship, the research must have been meticulous – every detail, and there are hundreds of them, rings true which is a remarkable achievement, it doesn’t feel laboured, just very well made. Every time I opened the book I was in Faber’s world, by the time I finished it, even after 800+ pages I didn’t feel like I’d had enough – which brings me to the finish. It’s an abrupt ending leaving a lot of unanswered questions, which in the normal way I might have found frustrating, but after feeling so deeply involved with the characters here it worked for me – what happened next is for the reader to imagine – I Imagine it turning out well for the heroine, not so well for the men in the book, but I’m okay with that.

Happy Birthday

Today is Desperate Reader’s one year anniversary, and only slightly coincidentally my 200th post. It’s fair to say that time has flown, but then it has been a reasonably eventful year, or perhaps more accurately it’s been a blessedly uneventful year after two more than interesting ones. I started blogging during a period of effective unemployment, but am now only underpaid which is a definite improvement (I think).

Blogging has turned out to be an unreservedly good thing so far, I’ve read more books, read them with a bit more thought, and met some great people doing this. I started with no idea that there was a community side to it, so that’s been a total bonus. A couple of people have also been very generous with books and a good thank you seems in order – a list would make for dull reading, but on the off chance that anyone who’s sent me a book is reading then consider yourself well and truly appreciated, and whilst I’m about it I should extend that thank you to anyone who’s read this blog, and anyone who’s commented – it’s all been very encouraging and enjoyable for me!

So how have I been celebrating this momentous occasion? There has been cake for one (chocolate brownie with cherries since you ask, very squishy, very chocolaty, any excuse) and I’ve started Michel Faber’s ‘The Crimson Petal and the White’. Actually I picked it up last night around midnight, read till 2am, fell asleep. Woke up at 8am today and the moment I could focus (about 8.20 am) started reading again. I might have gone back to sleep if I hadn’t found a spider in my bed. Quite small, but equally quite large enough to make me behave like it was an angry tarantula (I mean really quite a small spider, but I’m pathetic about these things).

Anyway I got an extra 2 hours reading time in today and slightly surprised my father when he called at 8.30 (en route to Florence the lucky so and so) by being conscious. There are 850 pages of ‘The Crimson Petal and the White’, and I thought that it might be a bit of a chore to read through, but I’m beginning to suspect it might not be half long enough. I’m getting very excited by this book.

I’ve also found myself with a very bookish dilemma courtesy of river cottage handbooks and amazon. Regular readers might have noticed I have a bit of a thing for these handbooks and the next 2, scheduled for the spring, appeared on my recommends list today. ‘Fruit’ (about orchards I gather) which I’m already looking forward to despite not having an orchard (unless a lemon tree in a pot counts, and I really don’t think it does), and ‘Cake’. My love of cake and baking is no secret, as is my love of books but I do wonder if I really need another book about cake, so I’m struggling with this a little – what if when it comes out I don’t need it? What will I do? Can I have an incomplete series? All I’m saying is it’d better be indispensable...