England Part Seven: Birthday and Bakewell, and Bettys, oh my!

December 17, 2018

Dear Jane,
Mama and I at tea!
A lovely afternoon
and celebration!
First of all, happy belated 243rd birthday! The anniversary of your birth was yesterday and I spent the day celebrating you and your legacy at a charming Regency tea party in Suffield, Connecticut at the Phelps-Hatheway house along with my dear Mama. In truth, I spent the whole weekend celebrating you as I also attended the regional meeting for the Jane Austen Society of North America (NY chapter) on the island of Manhattan on Saturday. The delightful meeting consisted of both an engaging lecture as well as a Birthday tea and toast (of sparkling cider, of course. It would not do to have inebriated Janeites wandering the streets of New York City...or would it...?). You deserve more details on these events as they were both in your honor, but this will have to suffice for the time being!

Anyway, back to England. Are you still daydreaming of Chatsworth as I am? I often wish I was back there walking down that golden staircase. Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I awoke one morning and found that I was suddenly mistress of Pemberley (Chatsworth*)...*Sigh.* Alas, I suppose I should do my best not to dwell on impossible dreams. *Continues to dwell.*
#DerbyshireLife

Cheers to 243
years, Jane!
Anyway, when last I wrote, we had just left the marvelous Chatsworth House in order to visit a charming town in Derbyshire, called Bakewell, before our journey back to York. Culinary fans will note that a certain baked good, the Bakewell Tart, supposedly originates from this very town, though my initial Wikipedia research indicates that there is little to no evidence to conclusively prove this. Food for thought, Jane...and pun intended.




A charming town!
Happily, the drive from Chatsworth to Bakewell was only about twelve minutes long and after arriving, we found parking without difficulty or delay (Rachael really was becoming quite proficient at driving in England). We were instantly enchanted as Bakewell was precisely what one thinks of one when one pictures a quaint English village. Unfortunately, we arrived just after most shops and bakeries had closed for the day, but it was still our aim to find and indulge in Bakewell tarts! They were, after all, our main reason for travelling there. I jest, of course! (Only slightly do I jest, Jane.)

Bakewell tart in the park?
Yes, please!
As I do not wish you to struggle in vain, I will put your mind at ease as to whether or not we found our sweet prize, Jane and gentle readers. After a short while of wandering and window shopping we happened upon the still-open Bakewell Pudding Parlour and all of our Bakewell Tart dreams came true! For those who may not know, a Bakewell Tart is a confection enclosed in pastry with layers of jam, frangipane (a sweet, almond, cream filling), icing and topped with a glacé (candied) cherry. Of course, there are variations on this delicious dessert, but this is the variety that we enjoyed. Sometimes I imagine that I can still taste it, Jane. If you would like to try making these delicious treats at home, try this recipe from the BBC! Please note that I have neither tried nor endorse this recipe, but it looked lovely so I wanted to pass it along. To bake or not to bake, that is the question, Jane. In truth, I am not a baker so I always answer, "not to bake," and hope that someone does so for me.

After our treat, we continued to explore the town for a short while, passing tea shops, boutiques, bookstores, etc. It was probably a blessing in disguise that they were all closed or else I would have spent far too much money!

The Rutland Arms Hotel. Does it look
familiar, Jane?
Interestingly enough, I potentially (and unwittingly) walked-in and photographed your footsteps that afternoon, Jane! Now, this is historical conjecture (like your possible visit to Chatsworth) but it is believed you stayed at the Rutland Arms Hotel and may have even finished writing Pride & Prejudice whilst there in 1811. Also, many believe that you based the fictional town of Lambton in P&P on Bakewell. Whilst this delightful website makes a compelling argument for this theory, only you know the truth, Jane. That being said, I am of the mind to believe this version of history.

Although neither of us wanted to leave the charming town of Bakewell, neither Rachael nor myself wanted Rachael to drive in the dark on our way back to York (it was difficult enough in the daylight) so we bid adieu and walked back to our chaise (car*). I wish I could have stayed for longer! 

Fortunately, we made it back to York without incident and returned with the chaise (car*) in one piece. Huzzah! Now, as you can imagine, our Bakewell Tart did not tide us over indefinitely so after we parked the chaise (car*) at the Black Swan, we set off to find some dinner. As we walked towards the city center, we realized it was to be our final evening meal in York for the foreseeable future. Woe were we!
York Minster during Jubliation Tuesday!

What occurred next may very well only be humorous to Rachael and myself, but as we walked near York Minster whilst on our way to El Piano (our chosen restaurant for dinner), the bells began pealing with unimaginable gusto! The glorious bells stopped us in our tracks because they lasted for so long and were remarkably joyful sounding. Also, it was a Tuesday so there was no Mass or services (that we knew of); we were at a true loss as to why they were ringing. Unbelievably, we abandoned our thoughts of dinner (for a few moments only) and made our way towards the cathedral. After all, what if there was a wedding or a celebration of sorts happening at that very moment!? We had to find out! I chuckle just thinking of how we walk-ran to the Minster only to get there and realize there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary transpiring. Never-the-less, though, the bells kept ringing! This led us to become exceedingly silly and start saying, "It's Jubilation Tuesday!" over and over again. Only, we were pronouncing it, "YOU-BILATION," for some reason. In truth, every time we thought they were finished and start to walk away, the bells would start right back up again!


Eventually we did have to break away from the Minster as we were getting quite hungry, but we would always fondly remember "Youbilaion Tuesday." Now for dinner: We decided on El Piano, but to be honest we chose to go there at the last minute as it was never really our first choice (it was known for offering mostly vegetable meal options, Jane, and we like the meat). I am so happy we did go there, however, because the food was delicious, healthy and the atmosphere was delightful (as were the staff). Unfortunately, whilst there, we learned from our server that after twenty-one years, the owner's of the restaurant would soon be closing the establishment permanently. I wish I could recommend dining there to my gentle readers, but they did indeed close about a month after our trip. I feel very grateful that we had our last dinner in York there as it was a most special and enjoyable experience.
I miss you, Thatchers.

After our delicious, plant-based meal (I felt so fancy and healthy, Jane), we walked back to the Black Swan (via the Shambles, of course) for a final pint of Thatchers cider in the dining room before turning in for the evening. Oh, how I would miss staying there; I loved it so!
It's difficult to see, but
that is Yours
Faithfully, Amanda on the
Harry Potter bridge.
When we awoke early the next morning, it was with heavy hearts for we knew our departure from York was imminent. Luckily, however, we had a few hours in which to take advantage of the city before our train departed. Our itinerary that morning consisted of the following: Returning the chaise (car*) to the rental facility; posing on the Harry Potter bridge at the train station (this goal was mine alone, Jane; Rachael wanted no part of it); walking the city walls once more; eating breakfast at the famed tea shop, Bettys; finding souvenirs for ourselves and family members; purchasing pies for the journey back to London; venturing inside The Shop That Must Not Be Named on the Shambles; and finally, meandering down a final and hitherto undiscovered Snickelway called, 'Lady Peckett's Yard." This was a tall order for a relatively short amount of time, but we accomplished it all, Jane! I shall touch on a few from the above list and share pictures for the rest. I do try to be quite conscious of my gentle readers' precious time, you know...*Continues to write the longest letter there ever was.*
One last walk along
the ancient city wall!

Lemon.Curd.Torte.
Now, then; gentle readers should note that Bettys is a famous and highly revered establishment amongst tourists so the queue is always frightfully long (thus rendering us unable to eat there prior to our last morning). It is definitely worth the wait, though, because dining there was a culinary highlight of our holiday, Jane. Anyway after our trip to the train station, we arrived at Betty's before it opened in order to get a good spot in the queue (which we did) and then went on to indulge in a delicious breakfast shortly thereafter. Before settling our bill, however, we were graciously shown a dessert menu. Needless to say, the cakes and desserts looked so exquisite and heavenly that we hobbits opted to immediately eat second breakfast. I chose a Lemon Curd Torte whilst Rachael enjoyed the Fresh Fruit Meringue. I could barely move afterwards for fullness, but my goodness was my momentary discomfort worth it. For transparency's sake, I should tell you that even though we did not dine at the restaurant before that morning, we did purchase delicious pastries from their bakery two days earlier for an "on-the-go" treat. I had an Eccles cake that day, Jane, and it changed my life. I say this not in jest, but in absolute truth.
Such whimsical 
displays within The Shop
That Must Not Be Named!

After Bettys we began to make our way through our list. In no time at all we found lovely souvenirs (a delicate scarf for my dear mama and chocolate for papa), purchased our pie from the divine pie shop and made our way into The Shop That Must Not Be Named, which was truly was magical.

Lastly and finally, we came upon Lady Peckett's Yard which was, without a doubt, my most favourite Snickelway in York. It seemed to be a street from an altogether different time. No tourists were about, despite our close proximity to the Shambles, which made it all the more mystical and marvelous. You can truly imagine what it was like to be alive in the 1700's (sort of) when you traverse this little passageway. Oh, how I love the smell of history and mystery in the morning! (Rhyming intended, Jane.)

Au Revoir,
Black Swan!

Chatsworth Ale
to the rescue.
Unfortunately, after we explored Lady Peckett's Yard for a spell, it was time to collect our bags from the Black Swan and make our way to the train station via hired chaise (taxi*). I was so very forlorn to be leaving York and our little inn! 

Happily, we had our meat pie and a bottle of ale (purchased from Chatsworth House the day before) to strengthen us in our moment of sadness. As Shakespeare wisely wrote, "Parting is such sweet sorrow..." York was the Romeo to my Juliet, Jane. I daresay I can be dreadfully dramatic at times. Anyhow, there was a bit of a hiccough when our train was delayed for about forty minutes, but all turned out well and we arrived back in London in no time at all.

So ends our time in York, Jane. I do believe I have one more letter about my final night in London and then this adventure will be complete at last. We have gone on quite the (long) journey together, have we not?

Yours Faithfully,

Amanda

MORE PICTURES!
Yours Faithfully, Amanda (Left): 
Slightly embarrassed to be 
wearing her nerdy Harry Potter 
garb in a fancy establishment.
Rachael (Right): Wearing a lovely 
outfit whilst enjoying her 
Fresh Fruit Meringue.
The Shambles at night
has a 'Sweeney Todd'
sort of charm.
Lady Peckett's
Yard!

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