Agatha Christie's Greenway, House and Gardens

Dame Agatha Christie is on the top left.

Heard of Agatha Christie?  No?  Still fumbling along in a first grade primer?  She’s only the most popular novelist of all time, her books having sold over four billion copies.  The Bible and Shakespeare have out sold her, but no one else.

Greenway, in Devon, England, overlooking the picturesque Dart River and city of Dartmouth, was Christie’s holiday home, purchased in 1938, her ‘getaway,” to relax with family, away from public pressures. It’s now part of the National Trust, including the extensive grounds and gardens.

To get there from Dartmouth is an adventure in itself, much like one of Dame Agatha’s stories.  First you catch a ferry across the River Dart.  Then you hop on an ancient train, pulled by an historic steam engine.  

Some twenty minutes later, you get off (alight, as Agatha would say) at a stop that appears to be nowhere.  A couple of small, low buildings to protect travelers from any sudden shower, an iron fence and a sign mark the landing.  Steps lead steeply through the trees to a tarmac road that winds along the side of a hill.  Ten or fifteen minutes of walking and you’re at the entry to Greenway.  It’s not a bad stroll amid the verdant grasses, flowers, and huge trees rising like giants to embrace the sky.

Greenway House is white, Georgian, boxy and large, but without much character aside from the pillared portico.  

Inside is another matter.  Agatha Christie and her husband, the archeologist Max Mallowan (1904-1978), were great collectors and the rooms are tastefully filled with every collectable knick-knack imaginable. Teapots, walking sticks, archeological momentos. Evidently, the house was not always so orderly.  The story goes that when the house, which fell to shambles sometime after Christie’s death in 1976, was restored in 2008, mountains of ‘stuff’ had to be sorted and disposed of.

The restorers did a fab job.  The rooms seem much lived in.  Homey. Normal. The perfect place for a couple, their children and grandchildren to calm themselves and wander blissfully into family life.

Yet, it couldn’t have been normal, as you and I think of it.  Such a spacious home must have required servants, even if just for the dusting and cleaning.  That wouldn’t even count routine maintenance on the structure itself.

As any homeowner knows, houses and grounds are not inexpensive in their upkeep.  Besides the 18^th Century house itself and surrounding buildings, the garden and grounds must take a massive amount of money and work.  No wonder it was best for the remaining family members to turn it over to the National Trust.

Each room in the house has a different personality, from the very plain bedroom, where you will hear a recording of Agatha’s own voice discussing her methods of writing, to the small ‘fax room,” where Max worked, to the map and archeology room, to the expansive library, whose walls hold a decoration dating from World War II, when American forces used the house to plan for D-Day. A young Coast Guard artist left a panoramic graphic of his ship’s journey from America to England.  Dame Agatha left it, believing it to be part of an historic undertaking.

A tea-totaler, Dame Agatha drank double-cream with her meals.

Novelist.  I routinely get a blank stare when I say the word.  So, just to clear things up:  Novelsare books of fiction, fanciful tales written by a novelist, and meant to entertain.  They come in many forms:  Romances, Histories, Sci-Fi, Mysteries, and while they may be based on truth, or contain historically accurate settings and characters, the stories are completely constructed in the author’s imagination.  They are not true stories.

In Agatha’s Christie’s case, she wrote 66 novels under her own name, as well as several using a pseudo name, Mary Westmacott. She also penned plays and short stories.  The Mousetrap still runs in London’s West End. It’s the longest running play in history.

Several of Christie’s novels use all or parts of Greenway as their setting:  Five Little Pigs (1942), Towards Zero (1944), and Dead Man’s Folly (1956).

Her two most famous characters?  Hercule Poirot and Miss Jane Marple.   Even an illiterate couch potato knows those two names.  The last of the Hercule Poirot stories was just on TV, starring David Suchet, who played the part for twenty-five years.

Something you may not know.  She wrote none of her books at Greenway.  However, she often sat in the living room (also called the library) and read completed novels to her family.  I’m sure they tired of this.  grumbled and complained, no doubt.  Families are like that.  It is said her husband sometimes closed his eyes and nodded off.

As a writer, I enjoy seeing firsthand how other writers lived.  You somehow getting a feel for the kind of person they were.  I had not read an Agatha Christie mystery in ages, but I quickly grabbed a copy of Dead Man’s Folly.  Dame Agatha certainly lived an upper crust sort of life, yet her concerns seemed very down to earth, almost elegantly normal, and Greenway, with its comfortable couches (which you’re allowed to sit on), the subdued colors, and the room decorations, make it a place where anyone could spend a holiday.

Agatha in her twenties.

Travel is like that, isn’t it?  Allows you to effortlessly expand your horizons, pick up threads of interest, and encourages you to explore possibilities.  Greenway does it all.  When I hopped on that old train and listened to the whistle of the steam engine, I stepped into the time and tone of a Christie novel.  Getting off at the Greenway train stop continued the plot, tangled and enhanced room-by-room, acre-by-acre.  This was Agatha Christie country and I loved it.

http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/greenway/facilities-and-access/

The Rockfish! Nothing Fishy About These Fish and Chips

The Rockfish.  A perfect place for fish and chips in the little, historic seaport town of Dartmouth.

It’s downtown, facing the Dart River, and about a stone’s throw away.  The blue front, with large white letters looks small, but opens up when you step through the door.  White and bright, like cresting waves on a blue sea.

http://www.therockfish.co.uk

The craving for fish and chips is second only to the deep and abiding need for beer and bouncing breasts.  I mean for some people, not you and me, of course.  To satisfy the need for F & C, we asked the locals.  Everyone pointed in the same direction.

We popped into The Rockfish.  Cheery place, with nautical décor.  Beer and wine line the walls, along with other, less interesting things.  The cod and chips were wonderful.  Crisp, flavorful.  And, the service was top of the line.

It’s one of those places you come to eat, but stay for another beer or two.  Comfortable and conversational. The waitresses glow with efficiency and charm.  I like it that the kitchen is open.  Being a curious cook myself, I wandered back and watched the process. 

What makes The Rockfish fish and chips different from anyone else’s?  Dip the fish in batter, fry ‘em!  If only it were that simple.  First, the fish must be FRESH.  The Rockfish’s motto is spot on!

Which begs the question:  How can you tell if the fish are fresh?  Your nose.  When you walk into a fish restaurant and smell a bit of brine, but nothing ‘fishy,’ you’ve come to the right spot.  If the smell blasts you like a right jab from Mike Tyson, turn around and quick-step out.

Next, the batter.  It should cover the fish and become one with the fish, but not replace the fish.  Sounds straight forward.  I like the batter as a thin, crispy addition, with a crunch that adds to the joy of biting into moist, white fish.  The Rockfish did not let me down.  Their fried fish is exactly as it should be. Crunchy on the outside, moist within. Tasty. Cheers!  Bravo! 

Next the chips, or fries, as we call them in the Colonies.  Not thin.  Not thick.  As crisp as the fish.  There’s a secret, which I’m certain you already know.  Chips must be fried twice.  The first dip into hot grease brings the moisture to the surface, the second frying adds the crispness. Quite nicely done, Rockfish!

Now, do you add some catsup?  Oh, lads and lassies, ye have immense gaps in your culinary knowledge.  Vinegar.  Adds a bit of bite.  Cuts the grease.  Permits your taste buds to relax and smile with joy and settles your stomach.

But, not just any kind of vinegar!  My favorite (and the English standard) is malt vinegar. Rockfish also gives you an unexpected choice of lemon vinegar.  Superb!

What is malt vinegar anyway?  Well, anything that ferments can be taken a little too far and you end up with vinegar, right?  You’re got red and white wine vinegars, apple vinegar, and dozens of others.  Malt vinegar is made by malting barley.  Ok, clever man, what-the-fruitcake is malting???  You take fresh barley grain, soak it in water, allow it to sprout, and dry it with hot air.  From there, you make ale and let time turn the ale to vinegar.

In England, at the fish and chips take-aways, they used to serve fish and chips wrapped in newspaper, the chips sticking up in stalks of golden splendor.  Millions of people ate their fish and chips with no ill effects.

Long past.  The government, like all governments, found a solution to a non-existent problem.  Bureaucrats with time on their hands and a steady flow of the silver coin decided that newspaper print is toxic.  Now-a-days paper used to wrap the fish at fish and chips stands is approved for use in a sterilized lab room for infectious diseases.  Ok, I added that last part.

There are also ‘fish labeling’ laws to contend with.  Restaurants can no longer simply state ‘fish and chips’ on the menu, but have to name the type of fish, cod, plaice, etc.  So far, the bureau-dolts have not required first names and birth certificates.

But, at The Rockfish, no worries.  No newspaper wrapping.  Order cod or plaice, or whatever (by name).   Sit back and sip a cool, local ale, or a nice glass of wine.  It’s going to take a bit of time.  Nothing they serve is pre-battered, or frozen, or pre-cooked.  It’s fish and chips as they should be.  Perfect! 

Finished eating? I think we have time for one more beer and perhaps some dessert.

Lemon Cheesecake!  Sweet and tart!  Super!!!

Write the name down:  Rockfish!

The Floating Bridge Inn

Do you like Brit pubs as much as I do?  Wait a sec…’like’ is too tame a word…crave!  The murmur of voices.  Glistening pint glasses of dark amber.  A row of hand pumps that tells you this is the place for traditional ale.  None of that fizzy stuff for a true pub lover such as you and I.  Did I speak too quickly?  What?  You’ve never been inside a Brit pub???  Good god, man!  Are you old enough to drink?  Have you completely missed the sublime pleasure of relaxing in a pub, pint in hand, and your troubles floating away like the evening mist?

You may have been listening to all those old saws about Brit beer being warm, flat, et-freaking-cetera.  Ah, so that’s the problem.  Probably think the food is bad, too.

Wander with me inside a riverside pub in Dartmouth, Devon, England.  The Floating Bridge Inn.  What’s in a name?  In this case, the name tells you the pub is parked nearly on the riverbank, right beside the Dartmouth-Kingswear Floating Dock, a vehicular cable ferry that crosses the River Dart.  Cars roll on and off all day. 

Let’s go inside the big white pub, which dates to the 19th Century, or on a sunny day we can sit outside and soak up some vitamin D-3.

The bar area has a lighter touch than most, with a nautical air.  They serve DoomBar, a local brew and one of my favorite Brit beers. But in this case, I didn’t come to The Floating Bridge for the beer.  Shocking, I know.  But, their kitchen shines like a star in the hungry night.  And if you don’t fancy a pint with your lunch or supper, they offer a superb wine selection.

Now to settle a few scores.  Brit beer is not served warm.  They keep the barrels in the cellar and hand pump it to your glass, meaning it’s usually about 50-60ºF.  The beer is top fermented in the keg, meaning there’s only natural fermentation and traditional ale is not fizzy.  Lots of flavor, much of which would be lost if the beer were to be served icy. Learn all the details at:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beer_in_England

I often say English beer is a different beverage from American/German style, bottom fermented beer.  It’s almost like comparing tea and coffee. 

Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s let our eyes wander the menu and see what’s for supper.  Matter of fact, let’s make your mouth water:  Belly Pork with mushrooms, in a brandy cream.  Mushroom, walnut, and goat cheese tart on mixed leaves.  Plowman’s with English cheddar.

Pork Belly doesn’t sound appetizing?  Boy, are you wrong!  This is the most tender pork you’ve ever eaten, with a thin layer of crisped fat riding on top.  The sauce is out of this world and the dish comes with creamy potatoes.

Pork Belly

Never tasted anything to compare with the goat cheese tart!  Succulent flavors melded to lip-smacking goodness. The combination is so perfect that you find yourself mumbling about goat cheese and the soft, dark sauce that permeates the whole dish.

And the plowman’s platter:  Traditionally served at midday, but equally grand in the evening. Lots of subtleties on the tongue. Still, it has a texture similar to what you’re used to.  The flavor will make you tell yourself, “Just one more bite,” right after you’ve already told yourself, “Just one more bite.”  Note the dark, pickle relish, with its combination of sweet and tart.  Goes well with the cheese.

Notice that the English cheddar is not a bright yellow?  That’s because the Brits don’t add coloring to their naturally aged cheddar.  Has a mellow, more rounded, less industrial flavor than it’s U.S. cousin. 

No need to stop here.  Might as well have dessert.  Try the crusty bread pudding with a scoop of the famous Devon clotted cream.  Or perhaps some apple crumble, with vanilla cream sauce.  Either way, you can’t go wrong and either way, you’re going to need a long, postprandial perambulation.   Been waiting a long time to use those words, meaning an after supper walk!

Apple Crumble with Vanilla Cream

Bread Pudding and Clotted Cream

And, what a walk it will be in the fading sunlight, along the waterfront, with boats of every description floating on their idle reflections in the River Dart.

Visit The Floating Bridge Inn once and you’ll come back, for excellent beer in the bright sunshine, or a tidy supper in the lull of the evening.