The Section Collective

Simple fix-less assembly, inspiration from a utilitarian scheme in the Second World War and a handy rut for keeping your loose change in – it's furniture like this that turns Ernest's head

Dan Marc is a new furniture maker on the northwest scene, dazzling all who see his debut collection The Section Collective. Well, it certainly caught Ernest's eye.

He's created four signature table pieces: an occasional table, sideboard table, coffee table and study desk – all with a folded steel surface atop hand-dyed birch plywood. And it's completely fix-less assembly – no fiddly bolts or rivets and re-reading of flatpack instructions at least 12 times.

 The collection takes inspiration from the British utility furniture scheme during the Second World War, while also revealing a mid-century aesthetic. 

We especially like the steel ruts along the tables' surface. Very handy for keys, loose change and Werther's Originals.

You can find out more about Dan Marc's debut collection at Made In These Isles.

This is a sponsored blog post, created in collaboration with Made In These Isles. For more information on partnerships and joining our directory please email advertise@ernestjournal.co.uk.

Butchers Arms, Eldersfield, Gloucester

Jon Saxon of Doghouse Magazine pops round 'the Block' – as it's known by its locals – for a game of dobbers and a pint of Wickwar's Bob served straight from the cask

Photo: Richard Stanton

Photo: Richard Stanton

It’s a most common sight these days: public houses bearing a for-sale sign and chipboard shutters – in many cases reborn as residential housing; re-imagined as a supermarket, or demolished altogether – in these instances: losing not only the banter at the bar, the casks of beer doing their thing down below – but also the pool table (billiards in some places) a dart board, box of dominoes, and, in rarer cases, skittle alleys, shove ha’penny boards, and quoits tables.  

People thankfully bow their heads for the out-of-work landlords, breweries with at least one less outlet, and the regulars left with nowhere to be just that, but little respect is paid for the traditional pub games found rotting in the car park: a largely ignored victim in the wake of pub demise. Subsequently many villages and town, whole districts and counties in some instances, have had their pub gaming heritage wiped clean from the board.

Even in terms of live-and-well pubs, the bread-and-butter pool table and dartboard seem to be in rough decline, as these hulks of wood on wheels and circular targets mounted on the wall, make way for dining chairs and tables. A pool table, dartboard or cribbage board can be easily reinstated, but perhaps by then the players would have long since gone and the teams dried up, the next generation lost, gone the way of the all important rulebook.

And lost too are the accessories: the chalkboards layered with near wins, outright victories and severe losses; the littered pages of league fixtures pinned to any easy surface; and the worn-to-the-floor foot markers. And then there are the glass cabinets teaming with awards:  the dart plaques; the handled pool trophies; the etched glasses and engraved wooden shields, and – for the less fortunate – the wooden spoon. 

Yet where some banish the games and awards to a storeroom, or auction them off entirely, others continue the tradition – not as a gimmick, but because people like playing games over a pint.

The red-brick two-room Butchers Arms in Gloucestershire’s Eldersfield is such a pub. Open the front door of a Friday evening and you’ll sometimes discover this free house awash with quoits challengers. Some are here for the community spirit, simply basking in the sheer fun of it all. However, there are others who take dobbers – as I hear it being called from time to time – very seriously indeed. 

 Limbering up in the corner is a team eying the spoils of success this same evening. They seem a little more eager than perhaps their rivals found chatting at the bar ordering another round of Wickwar’s Bob, served straight from the cask. 

The scuffed appearance of the table, painted in a traditional red and green, wears decades of competition. It’s a game of no-little skill. The aim is to throw your rubber quoits  – white side up to score  – and lasso the central peg, also known as a hob, mott or pin. That will gain you five points. Two points are scored for landing in the inner circle and one for landing in the outer.

Locally nicknamed ‘the Block’ after a butcher’s block that once resided by the front door, before the elements rotted it away, the pub actually takes its name from the room next door to the bar – formerly a butcher’s shop. It may well have swung back and forth with its name change over time – spending some time as The Greyhound – named by a then landlord in the 60s who was a part of a racing hound syndicate; before reverting, relatively recently, to its original designation – but it appears to have what most seem to wish of a public house: pre-booked dining tables, quality beer kept and delivered with care, and traditional pub activities – which just like the game of dobbers here on a Friday evening, down on Lime Street, is not as easy as it looks. Five points to The Butchers Arms.

Butchers Arms, Lime Street, Eldersfield, Gloucester, GL19 4NX; 01452 840381; 12noon–2pm and 7pm–11pm; Sunday; 12noon– 2.30pm (Closed on Monday, all day)

Jon Saxon is the founder and editor of Doghouse Magazine 
and Ludlow Ledger

doghousemagazine.co.uk

ludlowledger.com

For him: Valentine's gift ideas

Beard shampoo, Danish liquorice and a chalkboard for writing innuendo-filled messages: Ernest would very much like to have one of these gifts tucked under his pillow on Valentine's morn, thank you very much

We chose this fine array of Valentine's gifts from our directory members, a delectable troupe of independent brands and makers producing thoughtful and well-made things for your everyday adventures.

For her: Valentine's gift ideas

A 200-year-old reindeer leather heart pendant, rose quartz book ends and proper Welsh chocolate: just call Ernest Mr Love Machine

We chose this fine array of Valentine's gifts from our directory members, a delectable troupe of independent brands and makers producing thoughtful and well-made things for your everyday adventures.

Everything stops for tea

Since its discovery over 4,000 years ago, drinking tea has assumed a central role in many cultures, with traditions varying from nation to nation. Jennifer Hill of The Tea Alchemist tells us more

Illustration: Aidan Meighan

In 2737 BC, the Chinese emperor stumbled across a mysterious potion after leaves from the camellia sinensis plant accidentally fell into the water his servant was boiling for him to drink. As a herbalist, he embraced the opportunity to try a new concoction, sipped the delicate liqueur and immediately fell in love; a love that has been shared by billions since.

It is strange to think that people have consumed tea for over 4,000 years. Perhaps even stranger to think that in Britain we have only been drinking tea – our saviour, our comfort, our ‘pack your kettle last so it’s the first thing out of the car’ mentality – for a short 400 years. So we’ve had less time to develop tea-drinking traditions.

The Chinese and Japanese spring to mind when you think of tea ceremonies: formality, silence, tea to offer thanks or apologies to a relative. Rule-governed tea drinking? The officialism appears alien to us.

But on reflection, there are layers of ritual in our own tea consumption. Tea calms our nerves, welcomes us home after work and is a greeting for visiting friends. Imagine not offering a friend a brew when they arrive at your home? Tea has the ability to revive and console us, to lift our spirits, pep us up and calm us down. Although we do not wear robes or sit on our heals, tea has real significance: comfort, safety, friendship.

 

Britain

In Britain, many of our tea traditions revolve around food. The majority of our customs were developed in the early 19th century, first by the upper classes, who championed afternoon tea as a way of bridging the gap between lunch and dinner. Tea was served around 4pm, with small sandwiches, scones and cakes. 

High tea is different – in industrial Britain, miners and factory required immediate sustenance after a day of hard labour, so a substantial meal would be served, accompanied by a cup of strong, sweet tea. This is why northerners call the evening meal ‘tea’. The ‘high’ aspect is a reference to the high-backed chairs and higher table the lower classes would sit at to enjoy their tea – the upper classes would be seated in low lounge chairs and have their tea served on smaller, occasional tables.

Taking time to enjoy tea has always been important regardless of class, right up until the invention of the teabag. When the teabag was born, there was a dip in quality – a throwaway pouch of powder replaced the gentle unfurling of leaves, releasing layers of flavour. 

 

Kazakhstan

Kazakhstan is another of the world’s biggest tea-drinking countries. The traditions are rooted in the giving and receiving of tea as an act of welcoming and politeness. Guests are offered tea on arrival at a host’s home and it is considered impolite to refuse the beverage.

Much like the Russians and Turks, Kazakhs use samovars to brew and serve the tea. However, unlike in Russia, the server only fills the kasirs (small, wide-mouthed saucers), to around half full. This ensures that the tea is always consumed hot.

Guests are then required to pass their empty kasirs back to the female host as a way of thanking her and showing respect. She then replenishes the cup half full and passes them to her guests once more; a process that continues, creating a graceful, rhythmic and visual ceremony.

 

Russia

Like the UK, Russia was introduced to tea in the mid-1600s, but whereas we stole the idea from China, the Russian Tsar was given tea as a gift from the Chinese ambassador of Moscow. Of course, he loved it and a line of trade was quickly organised between the two countries.

Tea in Russia is not just about the liquid itself but about the heat that brews the tea and the warmth felt through consumption. Russia’s tea ceremony is therefore centred on the use of a samovar; a large metal tea urn with decorative handles and a spout.

Typically, samovars have more than one layer. Simple samovars have a bottom layer housing the hot water, which is heated by filling the small, soldered pipe that runs through the centre of the urn with hot coals. Above this sits a small metal teapot, inside which a concentrated form of tea, zavarka, is brewed before being diluted by the hot water from the urn.

 

China

In China, the consumption of tea is ceremonial. It is used to formally celebrate or consolidate occasions and is often served at family gatherings, as a symbol of formal apology and as a way of politely addressing and thanking parents for the giving and receiving of partners at weddings.

The flavours and aromas of the tea are at the heart of the ritual. It is important that the tea is pure. Each utensil is carefully cleansed using the first infusion of the green tea leaves to ensure the second infusion’s taste is not tainted by foreign bodies.

There is also significance in the pouring of the tea: slowly, in one motion, across all cups (small clay pots) and only half full. The other half of the cup is said to be filled with friendship and affection; therefore binding host and guest in their tea drinking experience.

 

Japan

Japan’s tea ceremonies centres on the making of Matcha tea; a green tea ground to a fine powder, renowned for its healing powers, antioxidants and bitter taste.

The ceremony is called chanoyu, which dates back to the 12th century and focuses on the aesthetics of tea-making rather than the taste or smells, making the experience more of a choreographed performance than a quenching of thirst.

It also focusses on the presentation of utensils used to prepare the tea, flower arrangements and calligraphy. The Japanese aesthetic of wabi-sabi, best translated as ‘flawed beauty’ or ‘wisdom in natural simplicity’, is key to the ritual. Tea bowls can appear rustic and unrefined to the untrained eye, not used to seeing the beauty of things imperfect and incomplete. 

It is the host’s task to consider their guests’ view of the tea from every angle to ensure their experience is one of purity, serenity and tranquility. This thoughtful consideration often ensures that the bonds of friendship between the hosts and their guests are strengthened after the experience is concluded.

 

India

On the subcontinent, tea is served on the streets by chai wallahs, who blend their spicy chai tea at their stalls at train stations, bus stations and on every street corner.

Authentic chai is milky, sweet and spicy, made from thick buffalo milk, Assam tea, cardamom pods, ginger, cinnamon and a ton of sugar. The ingredients can vary, but the serving ritual generally stays the same: the Chai Wallah brews up all of the ingredients in a large metal pot over open coals placed on the stone ground. Once simmering, he pours the liquid through a sieve into a kettle, then pours the chai into small terracotta pots from a great height. The drinking cups are only used once – consumers throw them to the ground once they have finished, smashing them to pieces, to allow the clay to get trampled back into the ground.

Much of India’s tea is renowned for its medicinal properties, mainly because of its strong ties to Hinduism and Ayurvedic tradition: a system that inspires us to live by alternative medicine, ultimately governed by a healthy and balanced lifestyle. Their tea blends are therefore steeped in a philosophy that inspires the ‘art of living wisely’.

 

Iran

Tea is the national beverage in Iran, with drinkers enjoying mainly green tea and black tea to quench their thirst. No occasion can take place without tea being served and, in many regions of Iran, light-coloured tea is a mark of disrespect from the host to the receiver. Iranians like it strong.

Perhaps it is the liking for a strong brew of tea that has led the people of Iran to discount the value of water in their  tea making. Through the use of a samovar, Iranians simply see water as a way of extracting the aromas and flavours heavily from the leaves.

Typically, tea is drunk from glassware and held by the rim of the glass between the thumb and forefinger with the pinkie used to balance. Often, held in the other hand, is a large pipe connected to a hookah, or qalyoon as it’s locally known – a tall, ornate smoking device that combines flavoured tobacco and water. In the absence of alcohol, tea houses, where tea and the qalyoon are served hand-in-hand, act as a social hub where young Iranian people can relax and socialise.

 

Morocco

The proverb Insha’Allah – with god willing, all good things come with time – is key to how Moroccans brew their tea, for it signifies their respect to the timely process.

Morocco is famous for its mint tea; a blend of Chinese green tea, fresh mint leaves and a lot of sugar (often a sugar to tea ratio of 5:1).

During a tea-making ritual it is a great honour if you are invited by the host to assist in the making of the tea. Incense is lit and those taking part in serving must wash their hands in orange blossom water before they begin.

Firstly, loose green tea leaves are placed in a round-bellied teapot with a conical top
and long curved spout, and hot water added. Like in China, the first infusion (left to brew for just one minute, before being poured into a tall glass) is used as a cleanser, this time for the leaves rather than the flasks, to rid the leaves of any impurities picked up through travel. The tea is then brewed before adding sugar and mint.

The spout is an important part of the teapot. Curvature of the spout allows for the server to pour the tea from a height of around half a metre into the small glasses below, to create froth.

Tea is served after each mealtime, for customers entering shops, to welcome guests into the home and to mark business deals.

This originally featured in iPad issue 4 of Ernest Journal, which is available to download now