In the bleak driving rain of a dark November day me and a friend went for lunch at a bright, warm and welcoming new place on Allerton Road. A café called Furrow.
Run by Grace Henley and her team.
For the past 18 months Baltic Bakehouse have been running a pop-up shop at a couple of places on Allerton Road, mostly staffed by Grace’s mum, Brenda. And this blog has visited before. But now they’ve turned their bread shop into this café which Grace is running. And no longer a pop-up but a permanent addition to our choice of places to eat around Allerton and Smithdown Roads.Furrow opened a few weeks ago and since then I’ve been in to get our bread several times and the place, though newly opened, has always seemed pleasantly busy.
As it was today as my friend and I arrived to see what we thought.
Yes, this is a post about bread and why it matters.
Bread like this Moss Lake Sourdough from Baltic Bakehouse in Liverpool. We’ll be hearing more about them later.
But first a bit of background about bread and me. You’d kind of expect that wouldn’t you, being my blog and all?
Come late summertime four years ago I was almost completely knackered. Three years of being Sarah’s principal carer as we both worried ourselves through the landscape of breast cancer, together with continuing to run our business on my own, had nearly wiped me out.
I badly needed a complete break. So with Sarah through the toughest of her treatments I took two months off working. And for the first week I went away. Continue reading →
Off in a different direction to a different library than my usual ones, for a book I particularly want.I’ve just finished reading ‘May we be forgiven’ by American novelist A.M. Homes. After an uncertain start where I mainly stuck with the book on the advice of Jeanette Winterson who’d said:
“This is the great American novel for our time”
I then got completely involved in the story and am subsequently looking in the back of this novel for what else she’s written. That’s where I find out about ‘The Mistress’s Daughter’.
“On the day that she was born in 1961, A.M. Homes was given up for adoption. Her birth parents were a twenty-two-year-old woman and an older, married man. Thirty-one years later, out of the blue, they tracked her down. ‘The Mistress’s Daughter’ is a riveting account of what happened next.”
Yes, this one’s not a novel, it’s a memoir. I check in the catalogue of Liverpool City Libraries and find I can pick up a copy of the book in three libraries. Continue reading →