A Kitcheware-Oriented Week At Keele: From Prefab Sprout To Beansprouts, Late November to Early December 1983

The wok and rice cooker depicted are 21st century, but the booklets are 1983

My self-education in the matter of producing decent-quality Chinese food in my own (or should I say Barnes L54) kitchen took great strides forward as 1983 progressed.

I bought the Sharwoods leaflets depicted above at some point that year. I cannot remember which shop “took on” Sharwoods displays with these booklets sold cheap but the Sharwoods ingredients depicted within them sold dear. Was it Sainsbury’s in Newcastle-Under-Lyme? Or was it Kermase, the sort-of wholefood store, sort-of rice-and-spice deli? Or was it some other shop with delusions of grandeur that popped up and then disappeared, because grandeur and Newcastle-Under-Lyme don’t really go together?

Anyway, I treasured those little booklets and the techniques/ideas I gleaned from them. I still delve into them occasionally. But I soon tired of the high prices and small bottles of the Sharwoods range – for me the occasional trip to Chinatown in London to gather large bottles of the requisite sauces and packets of dried noodles at sensible student prices. Fresh won-ton wrappers too, once I’d worked out what to put inside them, as described last time…

The other staple substitute which I used in most of my recipes – certainly the stir-fry ones, was beansprouts. These were available in large packets at a very low price in Sainsbury’s. If you knew what you were doing (i.e. just blanch them or toss them into a stir fry right at the end of cooking) they were tasty, nutritious, went a long way and seemed quintessentially Chinese to us at the time, because Chinese restaurants used them.

I shall write up some of my “Keele Barnes L54” recipes in the fullness of time. This week there’s plenty else to write about.

Here’s the diary for the week:

My pattern well set, I love the radical candour of my Tuesday diary entry:

Tried to do loads today – failed.

Forty years on, despite me being older and allegedly wiser now, I can assure readers that I still often have days like that.

I have previously written up the wonderful evening of music that was the Kitchenware Package, which included Hurrah! The Daintees and to top it all Prefab Sprout. I wrote that concert up several years ago, for reasons explained in the following piece, so some readers following “Forty Years On” might have missed the write up – linked here and below:

One element of the Thursday diary entry is baffling me:

Thursday 1 December 1983: Busy day – union stuff etc. Cooked a meal for Viv [Robinson] – went to {Scarves?…Barnes??} with Kate – to Bobbie’s after.

The meal might well have been one of those Chinese meals at that time. It is also quite possible that my flatmate, Alan Gorman, would have participated in that meal. Alan, Bobbie Scully and (to a lesser extent) Viv were guinea-pigs for my Chinese cooking. More on that anon.

But where did we go with Kate and which Kate was this? My first thought was that the word is Barnes, but it makes no sense to go to Barnes after eating in Barnes, unless I meant to write a more specific address within Barnes and missed out a detail. Was there even a place called Scarves or similar for that word to be. Let’s zoom in on that entry:

Perhaps the hive mind of Keele alums can do better with that appalling scribble than my own addled mind is managing.

But a further mystery – which Kate is this? I don’t recall getting to know Kate Fricker as early as that in the 83/84 year, but maybe I did. She might have been friendly with Viv already by then and Viv might have been grooming her for greater things in the Union by early December. Kate might have been Catherine Emerson (now Cathy Butcher), of course whom we called Kate at that time. Cathy will remember I’m sure…not. I can only ask.

Friday 2 December – …Bobbie’s – saw film in Square – stayed there.

I’m trying to recall what “Square” was. I remember a place known as the Hexagon in Lindsay? Did it shed a couple sides and become “Square” in 1983? Or was Square some other place. The fact that I say “stayed there” and Bobbie was very much a Lindsay person (K Block unless I am much mistaken) makes The Square a Lindsay place. I don’t recall seeing films there but the diary says so. Again others might recall these places and events better than me.

Saturday 3 December – …shopped etc – went Asian do in early eve -> union with Bobbie – stayed there for some time.

“Asian do” was probably Chinese Cultural Society although it might have combined forces with some other cultural groups for a pan-Asian do. I recall that Bobbie had a good friend, May Lamb if I remember her name correctly, who went out with Tony Wong, who was a doyen of the Chinese Cultural Society. May’s family ran a Chinese Restaurant in, I think, Hartlepool.

I wonder what those two would have thought of my Chinese cooking? I don’t think I ever had the courage to try it out on them.

Hope sprouts eternal. Photo by Hyeon-Jeong Suk, CC BY 2.0

Postscript

Dave Masten Rosen chimed in on Facebook, riffing with me about “Lee Ho Fooks” and Werewolves Of London. In fact I had mentioned Lee Ho Fook No 2 only a few months earlier:

…but without the associated reference to that amazing song, which is presumably about the then main Lee Ho Fook in Gerard Street.

It then occurred to me that “beef chow mein” was one of my regular dishes to cook in the Keele days, although I often substituted chicken. Of course, the recipe is in that little Sharwoods booklet. Here’s the relevant page, as a closing image. You should be able to read the recipe if you look closely enough.

My Top Embarrassing Parent Moment At Keele, 30 September 1982

Dad, what were you thinking?

I suspect that many people have been embarrassed by their parents when the old-‘uns visit the young-‘uns at university. This particular memory stands out in my mind.

My parents didn’t drop me off or visit me much at Keele. This drop off, for the start of my P2 (third) year, was organised around what was supposed to be a short break for them in the Lake District.

But Mum had injured (it turned out, broken) her foot around that time, so they postponed their trip but dad brought me up to Keele anyway.

On their only previous visit to Keele, I hadn’t shown them around much, so I agreed to show dad around the union and stuff before he returned to London.

Mark Ellicott’s 2016 picture of The union

While wandering across the main car park, dad and I ran into a friend of mine from FY, Katie (aka Catherine or even, as she is now known, Cathy), whom I hadn’t yet seen since arriving back.

In traditional Keele student-friend fashion, Cathy and I greeted each other warmly, exchanged a few bants about our respective summers and agreed it would be good to catch up properly soon.

Within a few moments of Cathy going her separate way, dad exclaimed, in a stentorian voice:

gosh, that was a beezer girl you were chatting with just then.

I was pretty sure that Cathy would still have been in earshot, given the shortness of the interval and the uncharacteristic loudness of dad’s voice at that moment. So that’s the sort of thing that happens when you release dad from mum’s clutches for even one day.

Collins Dictionary defines the adjective “beezer” as “excellent, most attractive”; some other sources date the adjective to the 1950s, although I’d guess my dad acquired that archaic adjective as a young man (late 1930s or 1940s).

Cathy was (and assuredly still is, forty years on) a beezer girl. I didn’t remember her second name when I first wrote this up, but I did recall that she was from Leicester and I remember her going out with another friend of mine, Rana Sen, for some time…quite possibly still at that time. She is (forty years on) known as Cathy Butcher.

I never found out at the time whether or not Cathy heard my dad’s outburst and therefore have no idea whether she was amused, offended or totally oblivious to this tiny but memorable event. It certainly didn’t seem to upset our casual friendship, which was sustained throughout Cathy’s/our time at Keele.

If this short piece does find its way to you, forty years on, Cathy – I hope you are well and thriving and…

…sorry about dad. You know what they can be like.

Oh dad.

Postscript: I have subsequently been reintroduced to Cathy who is (forty years on) a Facebook Friend and claims no recollection of the dad outburst. Phew.

The Day The Bootleg Beatles Came To Keele’s Lindsay Ball & John Lennon Died, 8 December 1980

My first term at Keele.

My first Hall Ball; Lindsay Christmas Ball.

The main act; The Bootleg Beatles.

Writing this up forty years after the event, I learn from Wikipedia that The Bootleg Beatles were relatively new in 1980 and/but are still going more than forty years since they started in some Beatle-oriented show.

Anyway, I clearly had a good evening. The diary reads:

Lindsay Ball in eve, brilliant. Went on from there to Karen’s for partyette // v good.

I really must apologise to Karen who I’m sure was and probably still is a lovely lass, but I really don’t remember you, nor do I remember what a “partyette” might have been. I’m guessing it was a small group of people in one student room continuing to enjoy the entertaining night. The // symbol in my diary tells me that cannabis was involved and my inability to remember anything much that occurred after seeing The Bootleg Beatles might be attributed to that.

Anway, a belated thank you to Karen for her hospitality after the Ball.

I was hungover the next morning and I recall staggering off to the campus store to buy some milk in an attempt to breakfast my way out of my stupor.

Before I had left the confines of Lindsay, I ran into Katie, a super girl I knew reasonably well, whose surname has now escaped me, but I do recall that she was from Leicester. Katie told me that John Lennon had been shot dead overnight.

I so clearly remember staggering on towards the campus store wondering whether I was sleepwalking or even still in bed having a nightmare based on the show I had seen the night before. It just didn’t seem possible that John Lennon was dead.

While we were watching The Bootleg Beatles, the soon-to-be killer, Mark Chapman, cadged an autograph from John Lennon in front of The Dakota Building. A few hours later, probably while I was still at “Karen’s partyette” (the early hours of 9 December GMT), Chapman returned to The Dakota and shot John Lennon dead.

Below is from the front page of The Guardian 10 December; the news broke too late for 9 December by the looks of it.

John Lennon shotJohn Lennon shot Wed, Dec 10, 1980 – 1 · The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) · Newspapers.com

The incident was a global phenomenon and it certainly was the talk of the Keele campus for the rest of that term…i.e. the next few days. I wonder how other people who were at Keele then remember that strange coincidence?