A Pre-Christmas Saturday Gallivant Around London

A pretty row of  painted stuccoed Georgian terrace houses approaching the antiques
market on Portobello Road

Photo: Chronica Domus

Ah, London, I have missed thee!  It has been far too long - three years - since I have had the opportunity to travel to my birth city and was itching to visit many of my old haunts.  My family and I arrived late on Thursday evening and spent most of Friday recovering from our transatlantic jaunt.

Whenever I find myself in this great city on any given Saturday, you can be assured of one thing.  I will have inevitably arisen bright and early to make my way to the epicenter of the London-based antiques world, Portobello Road Market.

A giant teapot sign announces the entry to the Antique 101 Arcade

Photo: Chronica Domus

Over the years that I have frequented this lively market, I have witnessed a gradual decline in the number of businesses that trade in antiques along the Portobello Road and Westbourne Grove. Sadly, several modern clothing establishments have been allowed to encroach into former antiques territory. Despite this, I am pleased to report that there is still plenty to excite and delight this particular shopper.

A rare set of six aquatints of Mr. John Liston, an English comedian, circa 1826

Photo: Chronica Domus

This shop was so crammed with antique ceramics that it was hard to maneuver through the towering stacks without fear of breakage

Photo: Chronica Domus

What makes the market so very special, aside from the treasures for sale at the numerous shops, warrens of arcades, and street stalls, is the colorful characters selling their wares.  Some of these dealers, whom I've had the pleasure of chatting to and buying from in past years, are very passionate and knowledgeable about their goods, and are all-round fascinating and interesting people to talk with.  Take for example, Mr. Peter Adams.

The delightful Mr. Peter Adams who might want to consider additional employment during the month of December playing Father Christmas

Photo: Chronica Domus

Mr. Adams, as I discovered, is the owner of the largest collection of antique and vintage marmalade pots in the world.  It was only through our chat on this particular visit that I learned of this extraordinary claim.  Mr. Adams, a dealer at the market for almost fifty years, relayed the story to my husband and I of reading an article in a British magazine that featured a collector who had amassed about sixty or so stoneware marmalade pots.  The publication had declared the collection the largest in the world. In typical nonplussed fashion, Mr. Adams looked about his residence and began counting his own pots. He stopped counting when he reached four hundred and fifty.

A smattering of the many stoneware marmalade jars for sale at Mr. Adams' stall

Photo: Chronica Domus

Mr. Adams could talk one's head off with delightful anecdotes and stories of the various items he sells, including some incredible examples of early green glass gin bottles that he described as possessing a coffin shape.  I am now kicking myself for not purchasing one of them.  At the end of our visit, we left with a handful of ceramic bottles and ink pots to add to those already at home upon the Morandiesque hanging wall shelf.  

Photo: Chronica Domus

As we worked our way through the crowds of shoppers, we darted in and out of the various passages and warrens of little arcades chock full of unusual and unique goodies.  What might this be?

An extraordinary example of an apprentice piece to show carving and blade making skills

Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

A beautiful Regency teacup depicting a colored Adam Buck bat print similar to one in my own collection

Photo: Chronica Domus

Headed in the direction of Westbourne Grove, I was on a mission to get to my favorite shop in the world, David Glick Glass.

The unassuming, almost covert, shopfront of Mr. David Glick's glass shop, formerly an old dairy

Photo: Chronica Domus

Mr. Glick has the most extensive collection of late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth century table glassware that I have ever encountered, and all of it is for sale.  His collection could easily rival that on display at the Victoria and Albert museum.  Even the great style maker William Yeoward, who makes some of the best antique-inspired glassware on the market today, would frequently visit Mr. Glick's shop to seek inspiration for his glass range back in the company's early days.  

An impressive collection of early nineteenth century decanters lined up in the window

Photo: Chronica Domus

I have had the particular pleasure of shopping at Mr. Glick's glass emporium over many years.  I always get myself into trouble here, and never leave empty handed. Mr. Glick runs his business the old-fashioned way.  That is to say, he does not have a web presence.  All of  his sales are conducted through his jewel-box sized shop each Saturday, the only day he opens for business. Mr. Glick occupies the rest of his week unearthing the plethora of goodies he sells.

Photo: Chronica Domus

It is always such fun to chat with the affable and extremely knowledgeable Mr. Glick and on the morning we visited, he was doing brisk pre-Christmas business.  Every shopper I saw made a purchase.  One particular fellow we talked with had just purchased two English Regency champagne flutes as a Christmas present for a very lucky recipient. Oh, how I wished to be on that gentleman's Christmas list!  

Of course, I never quite know what I will find on display in the gleaming cabinets of this crystal palace.  Today was no exception.  Both my husband and I were enticed into purchasing four large English Regency rummers of the same slice-cut design found on much of our other period glassware. I almost fainted when I saw them.  As you can imagine, the world is not exactly brimming with domestic glass items that were made two centuries earlier, and which have likely seen more than their fair share of merry making.  It is a wonder they had not met their death at the clumsy hands of some young dandy toasting his good fortunes at either a gaming or dining table.

I cannot wait to fill these four beauties with tasty libations at our next dinner party

Photo: Chronica Domus

Mr. David Glick happily wraps up our Regency rummers for safe transit across the globe

Photo: Chronica Domus

Dizzy with excitement from our finds, a Christmas present to each other, my husband and I looked around the market a little longer until rumbling stomachs dictated our next move.

Into the depths of the nearest underground station we hopped - truly the quickest way around London - and out we emerged at St. James', one of our favorite areas of central London.  We headed directly to Rowley's Restaurant a small and elegant eatery which serves mainly traditional British dishes.  The restaurant is located on Jermyn Street, a few minutes walk from the Piccadilly tube station.

A late lunch at Rowley's always hits the spot

Photo: Chronica Domus

Rowley's is housed in the same building that the former Wall's Meat Company occupied back in 1834, with well-preserved interiors of tile, mirror, and wood.

The cozy interior of Rowley's which was buzzing with hungry patrons during our visit - I waited for a clear view to snap this image

Photo: Chronica Domus

After a round of much needed liquid sustenance in the form of two perfectly made gee and tees, my husband heartily tucked into one of the restaurant's house specialties, Yorkshire chicken.  This was served tableside on a small silver burner and accompanied by Rowley's famous Roquefort butter sauce and crispy fries chips.  I opted for a great British favorite, battered cod fillet and fries chips, together with dollops of mushy peas, a favorite nursery food that has somehow managed to work its way into the annals of "great" British foods.  If you were to poll adult Brits, I suspect their fondness for this mushy vegetable has more to do with nostalgia than a particularly strong liking for the stuff. A refreshing tangerine orange posset and cups of steaming hot coffee rounded off a most agreeable late afternoon luncheon.

Stretching our legs along Jermyn Street, we walked past many venerable retail establishments.  The street is known primarily as a center for men's clothiers, but our favorite cheesemonger, in business since 1797, also happens to be located there.

Photo: Chronica Domus

The last time I was in London for Christmas I made the mistake of popping into Paxton & Whitfield on Christmas Eve, along with half of London's turophiles it seemed. The queue to purchase one's Christmas day cheeses began outside the shopfront, continued down into the narrow building until it snaked around the lower back room, went back up the main shop floor until, finally, it reached the front till.

The deliciously pungent interior of Paxton & Whitfield

Photo: Chronica Domus

I was not about to repeat that mistake so took the opportunity of purchasing our Christmas day Stilton, which I refer to as "The King of Cheeses" (no disrespect meant towards Italians and their Parmesan), there and then.

Glorious wheels of flavorful Stilton, one of which went into our shopping basket

Photo: Chronica Domus

If you have yet to sample this cheese, I highly encourage you to seek out a nibble, pronto.  An exceptional crumbly Stilton is both creamy and salty, but not overly reliant on saltiness to give it its distinctive flavor.  Of course, the blue veining is another characteristic that imparts the cheese with its robust tang.  This is not a cheese for wimps.

St. James' Church Piccadilly

Photo: Chronica Domus

After a busy day enjoying the spoils of London, we walked into an oasis of calm upon entering St. James' Church.  Designed and built by Sir Christopher Wren in 1684, the church is home to both wood and stone carvings by Britain's most notable carver, Grinling Gibbons.  Mr. Gibbons' work can also be seen in St. Paul's Cathedral and Hampton Court, among other places.

A view of the altar showing the intricate Grinling Gibbons limewood carvings

Photo: Chronica Domus

To our very good fortune, we were just in time to witness a concert rehearsal of Handel's Messiah performed by the Joyful Company of Singers along with the Brandenburg Sinfonia.  It was fascinating to watch the conductor, Mr. Peter Broadbent, direct the choir and musicians until their voices and instruments filled the church with heavenly music.  It bought tears of joy to my eyes. What an absolute privilege it was to sit in the old wooden pews absorbing every ethereal note of music and the great collective voice which filled this beautiful church.

Mr. Peter Broadbent conducting the choir and orchestra during rehearsals of
Handel's Messiah

Photo: Chronica Domus

Next: Coffee with a London-based blogger and a visit to one of Britain's oldest family run weather-driven retail establishments.

 Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.