Hocks and Maps … Steve

Steve Dearden — Mon, 18 Feb 2013 15:51:09 +0000

For years Shane has been telling me I must try the Bavarian Ham Hock in Gandia’s Bar Sacramento. Each time I’ve been there, each time we’ve been there, the Polish owner Robert sadly tells us he doesn’t have any in prepared so I, or we, have hamburgers, very good hamburgers but you don’t go to Spain to have hamburgers. This December, when we asked for Bavarian Ham Hock, Robert didn’t put his long face on and warned it would take some time, but that was OK because there was football on above the bar and you do go to Spain to watch football.

Inevitably when the ham hocks arrived they weren’t as huge as they’d grown in Shane’s telling, the meat fell away deliciously from the bone, but not into the great sea of vegetables he had me imagine.

You can get three hocks for six quid in Leeds Kirkgate Market. So the day we looked at the maps for the first time, I bought carrots, parsnips, potatoes, celeriac, cream and three hocks, one each for us, one for the freezer. Their three hours in the oven gave us plenty of time to join up the three OS maps that cover our epic journey.

We came to some decisions:

1. We will include a little detour on our first morning to take in breakfast in Saltaire, Shane has never been to Salt’s Mill.

2. We are looking for stage finishes/nice places to stay/good places to eat in the Kippax, Castleford, Sherburn triangle for Day One and somewhere near Howden for Day Two.

3. We confirmed our decision to follow waterways as much as possible.

I’d soak your ham hocks for a little longer than we did, they were delicious but salty. That night back in Sacramento, Barca beat Bilbao 5-1. Messi scored twice. There was fourth decision made over the Yorkshire ham hocks.

4. Shane needs to buy a bike.

Door to Door … Steve

Steve Dearden — Wed, 30 Jan 2013 10:18:50 +0000

For years I have been idly toying with the idea of cycling from my back door near Ilkley to my Dad’s back door south of Manchester. It would be a slow version of part of a journey I have made all my life by trains and car – from home to University – from my family home to my first proper job – between my Dad’s house and where I now live with my own family. I decided that if I didn’t have a go this year I never would, so moved from toying with the idea to talking about the reality, buying maps.

When I mentioned my plans to Shane he said, ‘We ought to do it from your place to mine.’

My place to Hull has advantages. The lack of Pennines. A flat practice run for the real thing. A trip with Shane would mean a culinary as well as a physical adventure. The psycho-geography would be different but no less powerful – a slow journey across my home region, a chance to follow water to an estuary, a journey with a friend, and perhaps a healthier one than previous bike-less trips together in Holland and Spain. From here to Hull became the real thing.

So we met up to plan and agree dates in our favourite Leeds lunch place, Distrikt. We agreed dates but our plans only got as far as deciding that our first stop on our first day would be … Distrikt – after all Rosita and Johnny who run the place are cyclists, it would be rude to ride past. We also grabbed a twitter ID and bought a domain name because we realised that as we had been exchanging messages from Leeds-bound trains, almost by accident, our adventure had named itself.

Le Jaunt » maps

Hocks and Maps … Steve

Door to Door … Steve