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Yahoo
5 days ago
- Business
- Yahoo
Why can't Stilton make Stilton?
The famous blue cheese it gave its name to is known throughout the world, but despite years of local protests, the Cambridgeshire village of Stilton is still not allowed to produce it. The history of Stilton is more controversial you might think. A battle over what the name can and can't be applied to has been rumbling for years. So, as a former MP raises the subject again, what's in a name and what could the future hold for this fought-over foodstuff? It was thought that the famous cheese was named after the village of Stilton, just south of Peterborough, not because it was made there, but because it was sold at The Bell Inn there. However, some historians have claimed the cheese did, in fact, originate in the village in the 18th Century. In 2011, Stilton resident and local historian Richard Landy claimed to have documents that could potentially prove the cheese was first produced there. Mr Landy told the BBC at the time: "I stumbled across a reference to a recipe on the internet that had been sent to Richard Bradley, the first professor of botany at Cambridge University. "This recipe was not only earlier than any previous recipe that had been published, but it also says that the cheese was produced in the village of Stilton." The conversation continues to this day, with residents and a former MP calling for a change in the law to allow the cheese to be made in the village. A row about the origins of Stilton and who can make it has been rumbling for years. The Stilton Cheesemakers' Association achieved Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) status for blue Stilton from the European Commission in 1996. This meant that only cheese produced in three counties - Derbyshire, Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire - could be called Stilton. Despite Brexit, the legal protection continues. Stilton is one of just a few products that enjoy this status. Many English regional cheeses, such as Lancashire, Red Leicester and Double Gloucester, are not protected. While Stilton continues to have special protection, it is not the only British food or drink product to enjoy this. Scotch Whisky, for example, can only be produced, unsurprisingly, in Scotland, and even within that there are tightly controlled regions. For instance, Campbeltown whiskies can only come from a specific part of the Kintyre peninsula, while Islay whiskies must be from the island of the same name. And although you can find a pastry-encrusted snack of meat, potato and vegetables almost anywhere these days, a true Cornish Pasty must originate from Cornwall. The same applies to another famous meat and pastry product. If your pork pie is not from the Leicestershire town, it cannot be called a Melton Mowbray. Similarly, if your oyster does not come from Pembrokeshire, then it does not qualify as a Pembrokeshire Rock Oyster. The annual cheese-rolling event in the Cambridgeshire village dates back to the 1950s. The tradition was started by four publicans who were thinking of ways to generate income after Stilton was bypassed by the A1 in 1959, Adam Leon, one of its organisers previously told the BBC. The event was paused for seven years because organisers said it was no longer seen as "cool", but it returned in 2024. You would be forgiven for thinking a cheese-rolling festival would involve the dairy product itself. However, 12in (30cm) sections of an old telegraph pole are painted to look like a cheese. To participate, all teams must consist of four members, and the "cheeses" must be rolled by hand. Each team member has to roll the cheese at least once during the race, which takes place on on a course of about 30m (100ft) in length. Typically, people have taken part wearing fancy dress, and in the past teams of nuns, Smurfs and even a tribute to rock band Kiss have participated. Former Conservative MP for North West Cambridgeshire, Shailesh Vara, is one of the people who have been voicing their opinions on the cheese's origins. Mr Vara, who lost his seat to Labour's Sam Carling in July 2024, said: "Stilton cheese was historically made in the village, and I know there has been a bit of dispute about that. "But the historical evidence that I have seen in the case that the cheese was made here." He added that Mr Leon, described by Mr Vara as a "local entrepreneur", had started "making efforts to make sure that we start making cheese locally again". He said: "I am in conversation with Adam and the villagers have my support, and whatever conversations they want to have with me, I am always available." According to Mr Vara, now the UK has left the European Union there is less protection on where Stilton can be produced. "That protection is no more, so we can now start making cheese. I am looking for it to be made again," he added. The UK Protected Food Names Association, however, maintains that English law protects Stilton, and that any change would undermine the cheese-making industry. Follow Cambridgeshire news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X. Village hosts historical cheese rolling festival Cheese rolling returns to Stilton after seven years Cheese rolling cancelled as 'no longer cool' Stilton Cheese
BBC News
5 days ago
- Business
- BBC News
Why can't Stilton make Stilton cheese?
The famous blue cheese it gave its name to is known throughout the world, but despite years of local protests, the Cambridgeshire village of Stilton is still not allowed to produce history of Stilton is more controversial you might think. A battle over what the name can and can't be applied to has been rumbling for as a former MP raises the subject again, what's in a name and what could the future hold for this fought-over foodstuff? How did Stilton cheese get its name? It was thought that the famous cheese was named after the village of Stilton, just south of Peterborough, not because it was made there, but because it was sold at The Bell Inn some historians have claimed the cheese did, in fact, originate in the village in the 18th 2011, Stilton resident and local historian Richard Landy claimed to have documents that could potentially prove the cheese was first produced Landy told the BBC at the time: "I stumbled across a reference to a recipe on the internet that had been sent to Richard Bradley, the first professor of botany at Cambridge University."This recipe was not only earlier than any previous recipe that had been published, but it also says that the cheese was produced in the village of Stilton."The conversation continues to this day, with residents and a former MP calling for a change in the law to allow the cheese to be made in the village. What rules prevent it from being made in Stilton? A row about the origins of Stilton and who can make it has been rumbling for Stilton Cheesemakers' Association achieved Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) status for blue Stilton from the European Commission in meant that only cheese produced in three counties - Derbyshire, Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire - could be called Brexit, the legal protection continues. Stilton is one of just a few products that enjoy this status. Many English regional cheeses, such as Lancashire, Red Leicester and Double Gloucester, are not protected. What other foods have protected status? While Stilton continues to have special protection, it is not the only British food or drink product to enjoy Whisky, for example, can only be produced, unsurprisingly, in Scotland, and even within that there are tightly controlled regions. For instance, Campbeltown whiskies can only come from a specific part of the Kintyre peninsula, while Islay whiskies must be from the island of the same name. And although you can find a pastry-encrusted snack of meat, potato and vegetables almost anywhere these days, a true Cornish Pasty must originate from same applies to another famous meat and pastry product. If your pork pie is not from the Leicestershire town, it cannot be called a Melton Mowbray. Similarly, if your oyster does not come from Pembrokeshire, then it does not qualify as a Pembrokeshire Rock Oyster. What is the Stilton Cheese Rolling Festival? The annual cheese-rolling event in the Cambridgeshire village dates back to the tradition was started by four publicans who were thinking of ways to generate income after Stilton was bypassed by the A1 in 1959, Adam Leon, one of its organisers previously told the BBC. The event was paused for seven years because organisers said it was no longer seen as "cool", but it returned in 2024. You would be forgiven for thinking a cheese-rolling festival would involve the dairy product 12in (30cm) sections of an old telegraph pole are painted to look like a participate, all teams must consist of four members, and the "cheeses" must be rolled by team member has to roll the cheese at least once during the race, which takes place on on a course of about 30m (100ft) in length. Typically, people have taken part wearing fancy dress, and in the past teams of nuns, Smurfs and even a tribute to rock band Kiss have participated. Could Stilton ever make Stilton once again? Former Conservative MP for North West Cambridgeshire, Shailesh Vara, is one of the people who have been voicing their opinions on the cheese's Vara, who lost his seat to Labour's Sam Carling in July 2024, said: "Stilton cheese was historically made in the village, and I know there has been a bit of dispute about that."But the historical evidence that I have seen in the case that the cheese was made here."He added that Mr Leon, described by Mr Vara as a "local entrepreneur", had started "making efforts to make sure that we start making cheese locally again". He said: "I am in conversation with Adam and the villagers have my support, and whatever conversations they want to have with me, I am always available." According to Mr Vara, now the UK has left the European Union there is less protection on where Stilton can be produced. "That protection is no more, so we can now start making cheese. I am looking for it to be made again," he UK Protected Food Names Association, however, maintains that English law protects Stilton, and that any change would undermine the cheese-making industry. Follow Cambridgeshire news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
Irish Examiner
28-05-2025
- Sport
- Irish Examiner
Armagh keeper Ethan Rafferty defeats brother Colm in first leg of Ulster senior bowling final
Armagh's Ethan Rafferty may be the busiest sportsman in Ireland. Fresh from defying Derry with four vital saves in the All-Ireland football championship, he hopped on the Knappagh road to defeat his brother and All-Ireland champion, Colm, in the first leg of the Ulster senior bowling final. A massive third throw to Knappagh angles gave him the edge and he led in seven to the planting corner. He upped the ante from there to Farley's where he was a bowl ahead. He was two clear at the plum trees. He was soon almost three in front and had it wrapped up before the Condy corner. That win gives him a head-start in the best-of-three final. The line-up for the Munster senior championship semi-finals will be resolved next weekend. On Friday David Murphy plays James O'Donovan at Newcestown; Michael Bohane and Arthur McDonagh meet at Baile Bhuirne on Sunday and cousins Gary Daly and Patrick Flood are scheduled to play at Grenagh on Sunday. The winners join Aidan Murphy in the semi-finals. Read More Maurice Brosnan: Eight observations from the Gaelic football championship Juliet Murphy secured her place in the Munster intermediate final by virtue of a last show win over Ellen Sexton at Clondrohid. The lead changing hands several times to Tierbg cross. They matched each other in the shots to light past the black house and onto the rough surface past the Bell Inn. Murphy broke the deadlock with a massive bowl towards Goff's lane, which gave her a bowl of odds. What looked an unassailable lead was almost wiped out when she missed the line with her second last. Sexton was not able to do enough in her last throw to turn the tide. Anthony Crowley produced a brilliant last shot to deny Dermot McCarthy in the Cork city junior B final at Whitechurch. Crowley led by five metres after two each to Kelly's. McCarthy had his first fore bowl after three more to the wall. Crowley got a poor next bowl and McCarthy extended his lead to Boula lane. He held the lead in the next three to Downey's. McCarthy then hit a purple patch with three huge bowls to the farm, which put him a bowl of odds clear. Crowley fought back with a big bowl towards the devil's bend, which significantly clipped McCarthy's lead. He followed with two big shots to Hegarty's to regain the lead by ten metres for the last shot. McCarthy producing a super last shot past the line. Crowley showed maturity and equanimity by responding with a better one to take the title. Brendan O'Neill raised a bowl on John Butler after four shots in the Mid-Cork junior B final at Castletownkenneigh. He held that past Pyne's corner. Butler wiped out most of the lead with a huge bowl to light at the netting. It went to dramatic last shot when O'Neill's last bowl stopped on the line. Butler closed with a great shot, which O'Neill beat by just five metres, thanks to a rub. Michael Desmond and Cillian Kelleher will meet in the Gaeltacht junior B final. Desmond led Darren Oliver from the off at Clondrohid. He had almost a bowl at the Bell Inn and almost two at the novice line. Kelleher beat Liam Murphy by almost a bowl at Macroom. Murphy won all the early shots, holding off strong play from Kelleher to Mulcahy's. Kelleher led from there, going a bowl up at Kelleher's lane. Murphy had the lead under a bowl after two huge shots to the layby and after two more past the novice line the lead was back to 30m. Murphy erred with his next one and Kelleher took a decisive lead by opening the last bend. Last year's All-Ireland junior A champion, Michael Murphy, is making a smooth transition to intermediate. He came out well on top over Wayne Callanan in their championship tie at Firmount. He was just fore after three each to the start of the straight. Callanan then hit a bad patch which left him a bowl behind. Murphy powered on to consolidate his bowl of odds at the end of the straight. He was two bowls clear entering the final quarter and he put it to bed with two brilliant throws past the grotto. Alex O'Donovan is the South-West champion, he beat Ger Connolly by a bowl in the final at Shannonvale. In the Munster junior A championship, former champion, Andrew O'Callaghan beat Timmy Murphy in the last shot at Kilcorney in Zone B. Form player, David Hegarty, had the same margin over Noel O'Regan at the Marsh Road in Zone C.
CBC
10-05-2025
- CBC
Secrets in stone: 200-year-old Bell Inn's mysterious origins remain elusive
Full history of stone inn sought for more than 100 years but remains lost in time The Bell Inn in Dorchester is one of the oldest buildings in New Brunswick. It might even date back to Acadian settlement, but the specific details are lost in time. One of the remarkable things about this "very beautiful old stone building" is that it wasn't turned into a museum but remains in use today, says Roadside History host James Upham. Upham is a historian and educator who enjoys exploring the countryside of rural New Brunswick, travelling its rivers and backroads and occasionally stumbling upon "bits of clay pots" that predate the city of Rome. Bell Inn is a small, stone building with the appearance of an old cottage, located at the corner of Cape Road and Main Street. It is owned and maintained by the Westmorland Historical Society. Upham said that even if the precise date of the Bell Inn's construction isn't known, it is "certainly one of the oldest buildings in the province" and "definitely the oldest stone building that's still in use." A History of the Bell Inn by Eugene Goodrich, accessible on the Westmorland Historical Society's website, says the inn was likely built between 1811 and 1821, based on the first record of its existence. Goodrich writes that there was once a Dorchester legend that Bell Inn predates the British conquest of Acadia. In this legend, he writes, the building's core was built in the 1690s and served as a fort, which illicitly traded with Mi'kmaq and Acadians. Yet, he also writes that "there is no documentary evidence whatsoever for a structure of this date, and considerable evidence that it was, in fact, built later." Upham, however, believes that some parts of the building may actually date to the time of Acadian settlement. But even if it doesn't, he said "for us here in New Brunswick, a 200-year-old building is really old." The Bell Inn is currently being used as an apartment building. At different times, it's had different uses, including as a bakery and even as the home base of "a literal shipping empire" run by a prominent local family. According to Goodrich's document, it has also been used as a cobbler stall, a confectionery and the privately owned home of the Hickman family. The Bell Inn is a place that has stood so long and played host to so many different uses that it has engrained itself in the history of Dorchester, according to Upham. Once the shiretown of Westmorland County, Dorchester has undergone a lot of changes over the years, shifting size a number of times throughout its history based on its significance at the time. Upham said that even "an old citizen of Dorchester, a fella by the name of Percy Palmer, who passed away in 1878," is recorded as trying to figure out who actually built the Bell Inn and where it came from. The fact that the Bell Inn, a building with such a rich history, has not been turned into a museum but is still in use is "one of the fascinating things about it," Upham said. The inn has been witness, and participant, to all of the changes that Dorchester has gone through over the years. Yet, it remains subtle, said Upham. While "the hoity-toities were hoitying their toities" and building houses to live in "made of big fancy rocks," the Bell Inn took a more subtle approach, he said. "It is a shelter. It is a place for people to go when they need to go someplace."
The Guardian
17-04-2025
- The Guardian
A walk with Romans and ghosts on the Great North Road
After a while it is clear that someone, or something, is following us. A figure, some distance back. But here's the thing: it doesn't appear to draw any closer, or get further away. It seems to remain, matching our pace, just at the edge of vision – at the edge of the dusk now descending over the grand Lincolnshire parkland surrounding Burghley House. When we stop, the figure vanishes. When we set off again, it returns. A shrouded shape; a shadow stalking our steps. Perhaps it shouldn't be a surprise. The old Roman highway we've been intermittently tracing from Water Newton to Stamford is a nine-mile track layered with history. Now overgrown and concealed, it was once a bustling leg of a great north-south thoroughfare that has run, in some form or another, like a backbone through the body of Britain for at least 2,000 years. A unique assemblage of ancient trackway, Roman road, medieval path, pilgrim route, coach road and motorway. Today, hereabouts, its modern incarnation – the A1 – loops west, leaving, as it does in many places, forgotten, discontinued ghost highways to their own devices. My fascination with the road connecting London and Edinburgh was sparked years ago. Joining an archaeological dig beside the A1 in North Yorkshire, I found myself unearthing the body of a man laid alongside an antecedent of the highway, perhaps 18 centuries earlier. Kneeling by that grave, a stretch of Roman road newly exposed to one side, the torrent-rush of the motorway to the other, the footings of future overbridges being hammered into the ground behind, I'd felt sharply aware of time – of past, present and future all meeting in that moment. The feeling stayed with me. Obsessive investigations over the months that followed coincided with the discovery of photographs hinting at my family's own connections to this highway, and I started to see it as far more than just a road. Rather, a timeline through this land; a repository of collective memory. I wondered what else was out there and began exploring its 400 miles whenever I could, walking and re-walking its howling carriageways and tangles of tributaries, up and down the country. Ten years of research culminated in my new book: The North Road. Blending non-fiction, memoir and short-story, it is part road movie, part novel; part history and part personal journey that braids a universal story of people and place through time. So the leg to Stamford is a revisiting on my part. The idea of a friend and writer who lives nearby and wants to feel something of the aura of the road himself. We meet outside the Bell Inn in Stilton, on a museum-piece high street, bypassed now by the A1 and a world away from its previous life as a stop on the old highway. In the 1830s, 42 coaches and mails surged down Stilton's high street every 24 hours. Their destinations persist, tattooed into the stone of the inn's arch – as do the ubiquitous (and inevitably false) coaching inn rumours of Dick Turpin escapades. Inside, menus skew towards the Bell's most renowned export: stilton. Made miles from here in Leicestershire, the cheese became a hit in the Bell's dining room. Soon it was being sold from Stilton to every passing coach. The name stuck. Lunchtime rarebits devoured, we drive up the A1 to Water Newton, six miles north. Its only thoroughfare ('Old North Road') like a fibre worked loose from the thick rope of dual carriageway veering west to avoid the River Nene. Another preserved village emerges: drowsy stone houses, dewy lawns, willows. Rooks cawing. A snapshot England cut from a vintage motoring annual. It takes imagination to picture the huge Roman walled town and transport hub, Durobrivae, that once existed three fields to the east. The travellers, livestock, wagons, soldiers; the stink, smoke and fire; the warehouses, potteries, kilns and villas. And running through it, that wide Roman road north that came to be christened Ermine Street. To join Ermine Street, we cross the glaze-green River Nene near the Norman church of St Remigius where a slab to a native son, Edward Edwards, reveals him to be the captain of HMS Pandora – the ill-fated frigate tasked with hunting down the mutineers from the Bounty in 1790. From here, the Hereward Way footpath tracking the Nene is the best route, joining up with Ermine Street further on, although highway purists like me may prefer to try a bit of rough walking along more of its laser-line straightness. For while reduced and buried, the Roman road still uncannily declares itself via a long ridge under earth, like an arm thrust under a duvet. Fields, woods. Early skylarks over dwarf pasture. The entire afternoon is swallowed in open-stride walking, with the odd diversion down roads and tracks where necessary. Pausing for water, we find the base of a Saxon cross – Sutton Cross – in the undergrowth. Such relics of history are testament to the fact that there is no virgin earth anywhere in England. Later, approaching the parkland of Burghley House, the track becomes a footpath through green baize, spotted with stately oaks. We are tracing this along the vast estate wall, evening just beginning to fall, when we notice the figure following us. Burghley was built by William Cecil, chief adviser to Elizabeth I, but the area is also profoundly connected to John Clare – the rural labourer and nature poet who was a gardener at the big house in his youth. In 1806, Clare jumped over this same estate wall on his way home from Stamford to read a book of poems. It was a Damascene moment that changed everything. Writing, fame and, eventually, fits of delusion, madness and internment followed, with Clare conducting his own last, epic foot journey up the north road in 1841, fleeing from an asylum and trying to get home. We are discussing this when the figure emerges. I suggest we quicken our pace to reach the estate gate where the path joins the old Great North Road. When we do, we turn to find the figure has gone. But as we set off down the pavement, we both see it shuffling ahead of us, turning the corner towards Stamford, before disappearing into the dark. Described by Sir Walter Scott as ''the finest sight on the road between Edinburgh and London', Stamford's clusters of churches, mazy passageways and twisting thoroughfare give it the air of a condensed Oxford or Cambridge transposed to a leafy fold in Lincolnshire. The George, close to the point where the road bridges the River Welland, is its ancient coaching inn and is still doing great business. It's less a place than a portal to be moved through – a feeling amplified as you pass under its 18th-century 'gallows' sign, once doubling as welcome or warning to travellers. Cromwell is rumoured to have overnighted. Charles I was also a guest, and his last evening of freedom was spent in the town. A century after, the 'bloody' Duke of Cumberland, Butcher of Culloden, took dinner in the same panelled dining room we're pulling up chairs in, after routing Charles I's greatgrandson Bonnie Prince Charlie on a Scottish moor. Over well-earned pints, we relive the dizzying depths of history experienced in a single afternoon's walking along the highway. My friend brings up the figure again – the sheer strangeness of it. He shakes his head. But this is something you come to accept. Old roads lead to uncanny places. Time does stand still. The enormous past often possesses the present. The North Road by Rob Cowen is published by Cornerstone (£22). 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