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Home Farm Newborough

Thurs 28th Nov.  I met Judith Jacobs and this is a resume of my visit to  Moor Farm  over a bottle of Watergull Mulled Apple Juice (from Moor Farm Shop of course). 

 I recently watched Adam Henson on Countryfile imbibing Watergull juice from his own apples on live television. 

Mulled juice should be sipped from a  tulip glass to retain the aroma and allow the terroir to come through as you sip ...  I said sip. ...  Gulping is for the proletariat ... 

You can get Watergull at Waitrose but not at that other proletarian  supernarket which wants to squeeze farmers and real food producers til their pips squeak ... This proto-article is destined for Pentargon's galley. But first let Judith speak for herself ...

 "Average day I get up at 6.45am, get a cup of tea in my flask and go around the farm to check on all the cows and sheep to ensure they are alright.  I [will] do some office work ... we keep [records] on all the animals and various health plans ... and there is also admin work ... for our farm shop.  We check ...the animals throughout the day ensuring they have everything they need. 

Some days we do have to ... intervene to assure the well-being of the animals ...  whether... illness; complications associated with breeding; or sometimes they just feel like being awkward.  Farming is different every day, so we’re always prepared for what the day brings ... "

This is 'average-day' farming in action. You don't even want to know what a non average day is like, but the march on Whitehall would not be 'average' also lambing is never average or getting a cow through a breech birth. 

Up and at it then before dawn, taking a flasked cuppa out into the fields to see the livestock is safe and well,  then into the books before ensuring the shop opens for 9oc and the kitchen is on full go.  Judith's children all engage with Moor farm and Rosie manages the shop and cafe full time  while her three siblings attend on request. 

During my short visit the cafe was heaving and the animated  hum of conversation was a pleasure to absorb.  A rural community hub in full swing is an atmosphere with which I am well acquainted ...  

My purpose was to locate Moor Farm Shop to ensure I could get a bus there there from Peterborough.  62 runs from Queensgate to Maxey. It is also accessible from Werrington when you know where the stops are. 

I had been in touch with Judith before my visit and was able to promise her that I would research all the bus opportunities. 

  I arrived at 13.15 on Friday with a 35 minute window to grab some farm food.  I did a 'quick' shop and located noisette of lamb, sausages and Jamaican jerk chicken. 

The shop has a carousel check out system where you come in one door, glide via the butchers, pass various specialty sections and finish at check-out to pay and exit. 

Check-out is where conversations occur and friendships are instantly made or cemented because at the tills are Judith and Rosie and between them they seem to know everyone. 

Having checked out and emerged into the open,  I realized there was plenty of time before my 62 would return from Maxey, so  I dived in for a second lap, adding mulled apple juice, blue Leicester, some naughty Eccles cakes and a beautiful plum loaf to my haul.  I had read of Lincolnshire plum bread but this was my first meeting.

Those who are Irish will know that plum bread is like a damp and spongy barm brack.  It is I suppose the nearest England comes to our barm brack or in my language báirin breac.  It uses different flour which gives it a spongier mouth feel and is quite damp. I make báirin breac with soaked mixed fruit to make it less dry than the barm brack.  The unique feature of a báirin breac is that the fruit is damp and lush but the bread is crisp and dry.

With the bus sorted and the following day being a Saturday I was able to get up early and catch the 8.26 arriving at Moor Farm at 9.14 with 30 minutes to neck a small breakfast.  I would so much have liked to be able to dally but the next bus back would be 13.50 and I had other business to attend.