Less well known is that Jacquie Briegal’s place is also the centre of international netball when Clare Briegal has federation matters to transact in London.
This year, unusually, Mark and Clare joined in person rather than via video link. It was great to see them both as it had been a while. Regulars Hilary, Michael, me and Janie were there, as were latter-day regulars Sonia, Josh and Melody.
Josh established a new tradition for the herring fest; hailing in the festival with a lengthy blow of the rams horn. I only captured the last 10 seconds or so of the blow, but it was a longer blow than that:
Michael arrived fashionably late, as usual, being the only one amongst us who actually observes Yom Kippur. But this year Janie was last of all, as she was on a reiki course that day.
Soon after Janie arrived, we discussed cricket and discovered that Clare knows David Kendix well through his involvement with netball rankings as well as cricket ones.
Clare was suitably outspoken in the matter of my Championship tie
But let us get down to matters herring.
Jacquie had promised not to overdo it this year, but her underdone spread seems quite similar to her overdone spread.
Only four herrings competed for the coveted prize, though.
They were supplemented by chopped herring, egg and onion (Mark’s favourite food for the purposes of denigration rather than eating), several smoked salmon plates, fried fish balls, several salads and plentiful bread, including Mark’s home made challah, which was superb.
[Insert your own joke/pun on the theme of Mark being the bread winner in the Briegal household here]
Melody was concerned that I wasn’t writing down the results of my herring tastings, which, she said, gave her the lack of confidence she usually reserves for waiters who write nothing down and then mess up your restaurant order.
Quite right, Melody, for the results of the herring fest have totally escaped my mind this time and are therefore lost to all posterity…
…only kidding. I wrote down the results when Melody wasn’t looking.
Silver Herring 2019: sweet cure;
Gold Herring 2019: for the second year running, shmaltz.
Exceptional Schmaltz Herring in 2018.
As always, the evening was a lovely opportunity to catch up with the cousinhood and have a fishy, festive gathering. Jacquie, you’re a star!
Not all that many people are familiar with the Pickled Herring Of The Year competition. But if you are part of the wider cousin-hood of my mother’s family, in particular the Briegal branch, then you probably know all about it.
Briegal table, minimally laden when the photo was taken, thanks to Hils for the photo
For more years than I can remember, Jacquie Briegal has hosted a fast-breaking dinner at the end of Yom Kippur. Breaking the fast, for most of us who attend, has become a nominal term for the family gathering, as hardly any of us now participate in the fast itself. But that is no reason to abstain from a jolly family gathering and feast for theoretical “fast-breaking”.
I worked in the morning and into the afternoon, but had taken the opportunity to arrange some real tennis late afternoon, with a view to using Shanks’s pony to get from Lord’s to Jacquie’s place in Swiss Cottage.
A couple of days prior to my real tennis game I was asked if I could stay on an extra hour. As I have reported before, click here, this quite often happens in the Lord’s real tennis fraternity. As it happened, I realised that I could do that and still get to Jacquie’s in reasonable time. What I didn’t realise (or at least didn’t think about) was quite how much two tough singles matches on the trot would take out of me.
First up was my old friend from NewsRevue, Chris Stanton. I have mentioned running into Chris at the Lord’s real tennis courts before, click here, but I had not played him before today. A tough gig for me, even with the handicap adjustment, which we both thought a little understated. Still, it was good to chat with Chris again before we started, remembering NewsRevue friends, songs and sketches gone by. Then after Chris, another gentleman I hadn’t played before, with vast real tennis experience and a less than generous handicap adjustment to compensate; I somehow got a draw out of the second match.
Suffice it to say that I started my two hours on the real tennis court feeling like a leaping salmon and ended it feeling like a pickled herring…
…which segues us nicely and effortlessly (well, actually the walk from St John’s Wood to Swiss Cottage felt far from effortless that evening) to the Pickled Herring Of The Year Contest. I neglected to mention above; part of the family tradition of breaking the fast at Jacquie’s place is for the meal to begin with a veritable smörgåsbord of starters, focused around varieties of smoked and preserved fishes, primarily various types of pickled herring.
My (self-appointed) role in this herring-fest is to judge the Pickled Herring Of The Year. The rules are pretty straightforward:
I alone decide the results – attempts to influence my decisions meet short shrift in this competition. That might sound a bit dictatorial – it is meant to;
Only the actual chunks of pickled herring varieties are eligible for the competition. Smoked salmon and gravadlax (ever-present) need not apply;
Nor does Jacquie’s delightful chopped herring qualify for the contest, although Jacquie did once get a lifetime achievement award for the chopped herring – the equivalent of Bob Dylan being awarded the Nobel Prize For Literature – controversial but undoubtedly both are achievements worthy of the highest possible praise.
As it happens, this is not a photo of the moment Jacquie was garlanded with her lifetime achievement award for chopped herring; perhaps it should have been. Thanks to Hils for the photo.
We were a relatively small group this year; Jacquie and Hils of course. Josh (Jacquie’s grandson, Hils’s nephew), cousin Jane and her daughter Ruth, cousin Michael (always the last to arrive as he does actually go to shule and fast), plus me and Janie.
Hils and Janie – again not from a herring-fest occasion – thanks to our neighbour Joy for the photo.
Jacquie does not adjust the quantity of food served for the number of people who happen to be attending that year, so there were easily as many varieties of herring up for the award as usual (six) and huge quantities of other food. I haven’t even mentioned the main courses, including place goujons, salmon fishcakes, gefilte fish balls…nor the enormous variety of salads, breads, other accompaniments, several varieties of honey cake, other sweetmeats…
…I’m sure you get the picture…
…I’m equally sure that you, dear reader, now rapidly want to know the results of this year’s competition so you can stop reading and go off to eat something – your mouth is no doubt watering by now.
Bronze herring 2016 – wine pickled herring;
Silver herring 2016 – schmaltz herring;
Gold herring 2016 – sweet pickled herring.
Unusual for the sweet to win, but this year one of the sweeter herrings was perfectly balanced in the combination of sweetness and sourness; it also had a superb texture, a little like the schmaltz herring texture that quite often wins.
Picture borrowed from Quandoo – click the pic to see that website.
Mum was especially keen on this Balham eatery towards the end of her time at Woodfield Avenue. It was conveniently close to the house too, so I would sometimes pick her up and take her to The French Cafe for dinner. This was one of those occasions.
8 September: Middlesex CCC Kit Sponsors Party
Daisy came along this time around – a rare visit to one of these parties by her. I seem to recall that the event had been especially good the year before and my report had triggered a “may I come to one of those?” question to which the answer was, “of course you may!”
I think this one was in the press bat of the old Warner Stand, if my memory serves me well.
I think this was the evening we spent quite a lot of time chatting with the late, lamented Derek “The Diamond” Britain and some members of his family. We also chatted with some of the players, nibbled at food and drank wine.
9 September: Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner
Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinners had been going for just over 10 years by then. In fact, I missed the 10th anniversary one, in June. I am writing this soon after the 20th anniversary one was wiped out by the Covid lockdown in the spring of 2020.
The headline photo was circulated by John Random ahead of that June 2010 get together, which I missed. So I never discovered the context of the regal look. Perhaps John, feeling a little insecure, wanted to assert his authority with regard to our gathering.
Anyway. he was certainly in charge in September and circulated some more pictures and bants:
“The lovely Victoria”, as John describes her.
Many thanks to all those who came out to the Cafe Rouge on Thursday. If you weren’t there you were either sorely missed or we all slagged you off behind your back. No, seriously. We had a good turn-out, including – may I say – the Three Graces in the form of the lovely Harriet, the lovely Victoria and the lovely Jasmine, who is not only lovely but can show you all how to save up to 10% on Travelodge. Harriet came in her pyjamas. OK, with some pyjamas. In a bag. From La Senza. Anyway, it’s not often we have so many women come to the Ivan Shakespeares and I hope this trend continues.
Personal highlight of the evening, though was Keith Wickham reading out the scores to the quiz in the voice of James Mason.
Finally, Where Are They Now No. 127: Mark Flitton spotted on location in legal drama Silk playing the owner of a dangerous dog. Many of you will have fond memories of Mark in Noel’s wonderful Smoking Doctors sketch. He also went to Edinburgh for us and performed in both the Newsrevue show and Whoops Vicar.
Mark Flitton with John RandomColin Stutt
I do recall Keith Wickham’s James Mason impression that evening. I have always liked his James Mason, but there was something about Keith reading out the quiz scores in the style of James Mason that especially tickled me and I do remember giggling a lot. Perhaps it was the fourth glass of vino wot dunnit.
Anyway, as always a fun evening with the NewsRevue alums.
14 September: Middlesex CCC Forum & Party & The Robert Browning
I must be honest and admit that I remember very little about this particular forum and party, other than ending up at the Robert Browning Pub with Barmy Kev and others, where we continued the libations and played bar billiards until chucking out time.
Coincidentally, the Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinners were, for a while, held at the Robert Browning, until the inhospitable nature of the place (last orders for food were taken ridiculously early) drove us across the way to Cafe Rouge.
In 2010, mum would have been there, as would Michael and Dorothy, me, Janie, Hils and possibly some special guest stars, such as Jacquie’s grandson Josh. Mum might even have had a sleepover at Jacquie’s that year; I think she did that once or twice after dad and Len had died.
The 2010 spread would have looked much like the 2016 spread depicted. But the winner of the award that year has been lost in the mists of time.
