And as if by magic - it's still not here.

Mari Gordon, 10 March 2010

Well, the iPad now has a release date for the US - early April, not mid-March as first expected. It will probably arrive in the UK late April. In the meantime we seem to have exhausted ourselves trying to decide whether or not it's a good thing - let alone a necessary thing. But then not being needed didn't make the iPod or iPhone any less desirable.

Apple's marketing for the iPad has taken a turn for the interesting, as their key words are "revolutionary" - possibly true - and "magical" - what?! Of course it's slick, sexy, a thing of beauty; there might well be something revolutionary about it; but - magical? Now using that concept to describe a piece of digital equipment, that's revolutionary! It's a piece of kit that lets us use our email and the web, look at our pics and videos and play with all our digital toys (150,000 of them apparently). Eventually we'll be able to use it to read e-books.

Previously Apple were promoting the iPad's similarity with the iPhone in terms of functionality, so that we'd all feel at home right away. Now, however, the iPad is revolutionary, magical and value for money. It sounds as though somewhere in the flurry of attention since its announcement, Apple have abandoned the "third category" concept that so many people questionned, and instead are positioning the iPad as a gem of a product, something lovely and affordable and just so much fun. A must-have accessory, perhaps. In which case, where does that leave the e-reading function? It was never primarily an e-book reader, more for all-round media consumption, but publishers were desperately looking forward to the healthy, straightforward supply deal offered by Apple, and any further delay in launching iBook in the UK is surely going to be a major cause for concern.

Faggots, herring, and small beer: food for sale

2 March 2010

Introduction

Market stall produce from a Carmarthen farmhouse

Market stall produce from a Carmarthen farmhouse, by Mrs E. Evans, Pencader.

In the industrial towns and villages of both north and south Wales, selling traditional dishes from the home or on the local market stall used to be a prominent cottage industry. During sickness, industrial strife or if the bread-winner of the family died, the income gained from selling home-made food or drink made a considerable difference to families who could not rely on the social benefits we enjoy today. The service was also of value to the local community.

Faggots

In the coal-mining villages of south Wales, one of the favourite dishes prepared for selling was faggots. An observer, visiting Merthyr Tydfil market in 1881, witnessed the selling of home-made faggots there:

A pile of what I took to be sausages were steaming furiously over a brazier of burning coals on one end of the bench, with a teapot leaning lazily against it and thinking aloud. Choosing what seemed the least formidable specimen of the food before me, I pointed to the brazier, but in a tone so low I was not heard 'I will take a sausage'. Obeying my gesture, the woman served, the woman served me a saucer-full of the black balls, swimming in hot gravy, and gave me a pewter spoon with which to eat it, instead of the knife and fork which might have been expected with meat. The balls proved to be not unpalatable eating, and were, according to my best judgement, made of liver.

These forcemeat balls were prepared from pig's liver, lights (i.e. lungs), small pieces of pork fat and the thin membrane known as caul. The liver, lights and pork pieces were chopped finely, to which were added chopped onions, breadcrumbs, a little sage and seasoning. All were well mixed together. The caul was then cut into six-inch squares, each piece being wrapped around a tablespoonful of the mixture to form a faggot. Placed side by side in large roasting tins, they were cooked in a moderately hot oven.

They would be served cold with bread and butter for lunch or a supper snack, but it was also a tradition to serve them hot with peas and gravy. Miners' wives or widows striving to augment the family income would buy pig's liver and lights regularly from the local butcher for a nominal sum of money. They would prepare this delicacy with peas to sell from their own homes.

Up until the 1950s, some women in the mining villages of south-east Wales would prepare and cook faggots on specific days of the week throughout the year. Regular customers from the neighbourhood would bring along an earthen jug or bowl to carry home the required number of faggots in gravy and another bowl for peas. One woman recalled how selling a hundred faggots at two pence each every Friday evening provided her with a sum of money to buy a joint of fresh meat for her own family's Sunday lunch. Home-made faggots are still sold today by some well-established stall holders in the market towns of south Wales today.

Pickled Herrings

In north Wales, women would prepare pickled herrings to be sold. Herring fishing was a major industry common to all coastal villages and towns in Wales, but the selling of this traditional dish was confined to the coastal towns and slate-quarrying villages of the northern counties. Placed in an earthenware dish with onion rings, pickling spices and vinegar, water and seasoning, the herrings were baked very slowly until the bones disintegrated. This dish was prepared on specific. Men-servants were known to congregate in a particular vendor's house and while away their time in a convivial atmosphere on a Saturday evening consuming this delicacy. Others would buy them at mid-day and eat them in their own homes with jacket potatoes and oatcakes.

Oatcakes, buns, and bread pudding

Stacking oatcakes to harden

Mrs Cathrin Evans stacking the oatcakes together to harden.

Other favourite items prepared in ordinary homes in the counties of south Wales for marketing were yeasted currant buns (pice cwrens) and bread pudding (pwdin bara), while in north Wales oatcakes and muffins were the stock items sold. The art of oatcake-making was prolonged in slate-quarrying districts by women who practised it in order to augment their income. Women proficient in the same craft in agricultural areas were employed as casual labour on larger farms to bake a substantial supply of oatcakes for the harvest period or for the winter months.

Toffee and small beer

Adding icing sugar to prevent toffee sticking together

Adding icing sugar to prevent toffee sticking together

In the industrial towns of both north and south Wales, home-made toffee and small beer were luxury items sold by ordinary housewives. Home-made toffee, known as cyflaith or india roc in the north, or as taffi dant, or losin dant in the south, would be sold from home or on local market stalls. One particular family in the coal-mining district, at the turn of the century, developed their toffee-making business to the extent that they eventually established a sweet-manufacturing business. Their shop, meeting the demands of the mining community, became a centre where people met to exchange views on cultural and religious topics.

Diod fain or diod ddail (small beer) was a favourite drink with the coal-miner and slate quarry-worker alike: as a thirst quencher it was drunk daily by members of both communities. Local demand proved profitable to many widows or others anxious to find a source of income. They would brew it weekly in large quantities to sell to regular customers for two pence per quart bottle. One woman from Glamorgan, recorded by Amgueddfa Cymru, related how she collected large quantities of nettle-leaf tips and dandelion leaves, in season. They were washed, dried and stored in clean sacks to provide her with a continuous supply throughout the whole year. A quantity of these leaves, together with ground ivy, red-currant leaves and root ginger were boiled, the liquid was strained and sweetened with sugar. Yeast was added to the cooled mixture, which was cooled and allowed to stand overnight. On the following day it was poured and corked securely. In the early decades of the 20th century, the woman recalled selling an average of forty-two bottles per week making a profit of seven shillings, a sum which at that date was an invaluable addition to the low family income. She was one of many other industrious women who supplied their neighbourhood with this delectable drink.

Secrets of the ammonites

Cindy Howells, 26 February 2010

The prepared specimen revealing the delicate spines

The specimen after preparation, revealing the delicate spines

Ammonites in the collections at Amgueddfa Cymru

Ammonites in the collections at Amgueddfa Cymru

Darn o'r amonit sy'n dangos y siambrau

Section through an ammonite showing the chambers

Underside of the prepared specimen

Underside of the prepared specimen

The prepared specimen revealing the delicate spines X2

Delicate spines on the inner whorls. Similar spines would originally have been present on the outer part of the ammonite as well, but these had been worn away by erosion

Scientists have managed to dissolve the rock surrounding the fossil of a 190-million-year-old ammonite, revealing, for the first time its intricate pattern of spines.

When you pick up a fossil on a beach it is often broken or eroded. You might discard it because it is poorly preserved or incomplete. But most fossils are found partially concealed in rock, and in these cases they can carry hidden secrets.

One such ammonite fossil had been lying in a drawer in the Geology Department at the Museum for 50 years. It is part of a collection of almost 6,000 fossils donated by James Frederick Jackson in 1960.

James Frederick Jackson

Jackson lived in a small cottage at Charmouth near Lyme Regis, and spent his spare time collecting rocks and fossils around the Dorset coast. From 1914 to 1919 he worked at the Museum, and over his lifetime he donated almost 21,000 specimens.

Palaeontologists regularly consult the Jackson collection because it contains a complete and valuable record of Dorset's Jurassic fossils. A few years ago, one such researcher noticed that a particular ammonite was unusual. However, much of it remained concealed in rock, which needed to be carefully removed by specialists to reveal the fossil.

A year of preparation

After a year of painstaking work, the specimen was finally returned to the Museum to take pride of place in the collections. The limestone sediment had been completely removed with a solution of weak acid and, for the first time, the detail of delicate spines on the inner whorls could be seen. Similar spines would originally have been present on the outer part of the ammonite as well, but these had been worn away by erosion.

The specimen features in a recently published monograph of the Palaeontographical Society, in a series devoted to the scientific description and illustration of British fossils, under the formal scientific name of Eoderoceras obesum (Spath).

Ammonites

Ammonites lived in the Mesozoic Era (251-65.5 million years ago) and were marine animals related to the Nautilus. They swam in the sea, preying on smaller marine animals. They usually had a spiral shell which could be from 5mm to 2m across. Their shells could be smooth, ribbed or knobbly, or even spiny. They lived in the outer whorl of their shell, while the inner part consisted of gas-filled chambers used for buoyancy. You can often see an intricate pattern on the surface of ammonite shells, which marks the division between each chamber. All these features are used by palaeontologists to identify different species of ammonites.

The Museum has large and scientifically important collections of ammonites, mainly from south-west Britain. They are a valuable tool in helping scientists understand the geology and palaeontology of Britain.