WHEN the elderflower starts frothing in the hedgerows in late May, it is the cue for those in the know to grab their baskets and walking sticks and go foraging. They’ll head for the glades and corners colonised by the elder, where its great white soup plates of blossom give out the headiest Muscat scent. (The best spots are closely guarded secrets.) At the end of the day, entire families line up outside the Belvoir drinks factory in Leicestershire with their spoils, so the sacks of flowers can be weighed and exchanged for cash.
These bucolic scenes could hail from time immemorial, like something from the pages of a Thomas Hardy novel. We can almost see Tess Durbeyfield brushing the yellow pollen from her lips—and yet, this hedgerow harvest is a relatively recent tradition. ‘In the early days, it was mum and dad and me each driving a car with a bunch of local school kids we could persuade to skive off school,’ admits Belvoir’s managing director, Pev Manners.
It all began in 1984, when Mr Manners’s mother, Lady Mary, was overwhelmed by demand from friends for her delicious cordial. Her husband, Lord John [the 10th Duke of Rutland’s brother], encouraged her to make 100 cases to sell commercially.
‘My mother got the recipe from Lady Astor when they were staying at Cliveden,’ Mr Manners divulges. ‘Lady Astor always had it on her drinks tray and mum asked for the recipe.’ Lady Mary’s handwritten instructions (with a couple of tweaks for the factory) are still used today—although, with about 10 million bottles of Belvoir’s elderflower cordial now sold worldwide (with growing demand from Japan, France and America), the harvest has had to be ramped up from those original three car-loads.
Esta historia es de la edición May 19, 2021 de Country Life UK.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
Ya eres suscriptor ? Conectar
Esta historia es de la edición May 19, 2021 de Country Life UK.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
Ya eres suscriptor? Conectar
Give it some stick
Galloping through the imagination, competitive hobby-horsing is a gymnastic sport on the rise in Britain, discovers Sybilla Hart
Paper escapes
Steven King selects his best travel books of 2024
For love, not money
This year may have marked the end of brag-art’, bought merely to show off one’s wealth. It’s time for a return to looking for connoisseurship, beauty and taste
Mary I: more bruised than bloody
Cast as a sanguinary tyrant, our first Queen Regnant may not deserve her brutal reputation, believes Geoffrey Munn
A love supreme
Art brought together 19th-century Norwich couple Joseph and Emily Stannard, who shared a passion for painting, but their destiny would be dramatically different
Private views
One of the best ways-often the only way-to visit the finest privately owned gardens in the country is by joining an exclusive tour. Non Morris does exactly that
Shhhhhh...
THERE is great delight to be had poring over the front pages of COUNTRY LIFE each week, dreaming of what life would be like in a Scottish castle (so reasonably priced, but do bear in mind the midges) or a townhouse in London’s Eaton Square (worth a king’s ransom, but, oh dear, the traffic) or perhaps that cottage in the Cotswolds (if you don’t mind standing next to Hollywood A-listers in the queue at Daylesford). The estate agent’s particulars will give you details of acreage, proximity to schools and railway stations, but never—no, never—an indication of noise levels.
Mission impossible
Rubble and ruin were all that remained of the early-19th-century Villa Frere and its gardens, planted by the English diplomat John Hookham Frere, until a group of dedicated volunteers came to its rescue. Josephine Tyndale-Biscoe tells the story
When a perfect storm hits
Weather, wars, elections and financial uncertainty all conspired against high-end house sales this year, but there were still some spectacular deals
Give the dog a bone
Man's best friend still needs to eat like its Lupus forebears, believes Jonathan Self, when it's not guarding food, greeting us or destroying our upholstery, of course