Saturday, March 14, 2009

Bletchley Park

Last Monday I did a day trip I've been meaning to do for ages. After breakfast I took a train from Euston up to the nondescript small town of Bletchley, just south of Milton Keynes. Bletchley itself has little to recommend it but about five minutes walk from the station is a site of massive historical importance in modern history and in cryptanalysis as a whole.

Bletchley Park is an estate with a manor house built in around 1880 by the Leon family who lived in it. When the family sold up the site was bought by the UK government. It was convenient to them as it was close to the main rail and road routes to London. The reason for the purchase was that the government wanted to move their cryptanalysts out of London and expand the cipher-breaking operations at the outbreak of World War 2. The operation took over not only the manor house but a myriad huts, and brick office blocks built on the site to provide work space for the up to 10 000 people who worked there at the height of the efforts to break the Enigma cipher that the Germans were using to encrypt their communications.

The site is now a museum, many of the huts have displays about the Enigma machine, the bombes used to break its cipher and the minds who enabled this to happen, especially Alan Turing. The site also has a rebuilt Colossus, arguably the world's first electronic computer, which was constructed to break the even tougher Lorenz cipher that Hitler used to communicate with his chiefs of staff.

It's a fascinating place and I will probably go back at some point. Here are a few photos I took of the place:



The Main Block

Decipherment Hut on the Right, Intelligence Hut on the Left

Looking After Colossus

Office Reconstruction

Statue of Alan Mathison Turing

Inside one of Bletchley's Bombes

More Huts



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Sunday, May 04, 2008

Scaling the Highest Heights

On the 26th November 1983 I went, as a guest of a friend, to the Victoria Ground to see Stoke City play Nottingham Forrest in the First Division of English football. It was the first football match I attended. In those days the First Division was the top flight of English football featuring all the sides that people worldwide have heard of, Manchester United, Liverpool and so on. Little did the 8 year old Mr Atrocity realise it but within a couple of years Stoke would be relegated to the second tier of football. And there they have remained. In the intervening years I have lost interest in Star Wars figures, discovered girls, finished school and a degree and been at work for nearly a decade. Though I live in London and don't get to see the side play I have kept tabs on their progress through the years - I listen to their games on the radio when I can and on the odd occasion when one of their F.A. Cup games gets televised I make sure I watch.

Why am I telling you all this? Well the happy reason is that today Stoke City secured promotion to the Premiership, the new fancy name for the top flight these days. Next year I will be able see Stoke get humiliated by the likes of Man U, Liverpool, Chelsea, Arsenal and probably most of the other sides currently in the Premiership. I do not hold out huge hopes of them not getting immediately relegated back whence they came but for now it's a very special feeling to think that my side will be playing in the highest league in the land next year.

Incidentally, If you watch the protracted helicopter shot revealing the Greek armada in Troy you might just be able to spot a ship with a Stoke City strip for a sail: my little devotional offering. My love for them goes that far. Go on you Potters!

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Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Living in the Future


In 1991 my dad bought himself an Apple Macintosh Classic, a lovely little computer which is still in a box at my mum's until I can think of something fun to do with it. It was a spritely little beast back then with an 8 Mhz processor, a scarcely believeable 20 Mb hard drive and an entire megabyte of RAM. I thought this little bugger was the bee's knees.

I have just had my studio workstation upgraded today. The new slab of technology now keeping my feet toasty and warm is 3400 times faster than my dad's old Mac, has 16000 times as much memory and 15000 times as much hard disk space. I think if you'd told me that in 1991, my head would have gone pop. Many people seem to get blasé about the rate of development in technology but every new leap forward makes me catch my breath. These are exciting and weird times, Bubba.

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Saturday, November 17, 2007

The Backlash Against Computer Generated Imagery

N.B. I have not corrected any of the quotes in this piece for spelling or grammar. They are mostly culled from the comments section of this article in The Guardian and, as is common for comments they are posted in a very stream of consciousness fashion with little proof-reading. Please imagine your own (sic) throughout.


"Now I should point out before we begin that I have major, major issues with digital effects. I had to go through several months of counselling after witnessing the sight of Jabba the Hut digitally recreated and superimposed onto a previously deleted scene in the "updated" version of the first Star Wars film (I refuse to refer to it as A New Hope). And I haven't yet seen Elizabeth: The Golden Age, but plan to keep things that way after viewing the trailer, which features a Spanish Armada rendered completely devoid of grandeur and menace through the use of CGI.
...
"Frankly, I would happily see a blanket ban on all digital effects in film, tomorrow. Imagine if science fiction movie makers had to use their ingenuity again when depicting spaceships and monsters (as in the original Alien). We might witness a return to the practice of using scale models, such as those in the original Star Wars films, which were 100 times more realistic than their CGI equivalents in George Lucas' rubbish triptych of prequels." - Ben Child writing in The Guardian

For every well reasoned piece written about CGI there are a mountain demanding a backlash. Most of these pieces and innumerable fora comments are targeted against computer generated visual effects and this week came the call, albeit tongue in cheek, for all CGI to be banned. There seem to be two strands to the complaint. The first is that films with visual effects are aesthetically inferior to those without. This argument is generally couched in terms like "not real" or "fake looking". This is a complaint about the actual imagery produced. The second line of attack comes against the processes themselves and those who use them. Digital effects are created by "boffins" rather than artists and they are made "by a computer", the implication being that no human effort or talent has been expended in their production. Directors are lambasted for resorting to digital trickery rather than using ingenuity and talent as previous generations had.

Before examining the state of digital visual effects it is perhaps worth looking at what qualities are lauded by these critics and therefore, by extension, what CGI apparently lacks. The over-riding concern seems to be one of ingenuity and craft. The hand-crafted models in the 1977 version of Star Wars are regarded more highly than the digital creations in Revenge of the Sith. The question is why? Are they more realistic? This is a very loaded question. Realism is a slippery beast. Is the complaint that, if the film-makers were to construct full size examples of these ships, put them into orbit and photograph them and then compared that footage with a CGI version and a traditional model, the model would more closely resemble the real plate? That is a tough question to answer objectively in this instance. We can however compare the huge amount of virtual set work done using CGI where a digital element takes over from a practical set. Take the exterior of Newark Airport in United 93. This and every aircraft exterior was created digitally, apparently without complaint. If therefore, digital effects artists were able to create, with scientific precision, an object would that then be acceptable or is there more subjectivity at work here?

When Troy was released, complaints were raised in some corners that the ships in the Greek armada had too tiny wakes and almost no bow-wave, a sure sign they said of CGI trickery. A little nautical knowledge is a dangerous thing. The Greek penteconters upon which the CG armada was based were keel-less and had a very shallow draft. There is minimal surface contact between the boat and the sea because it is much harder to row a boat that sits deeply in the water, overcoming drag becomes exhausting and your crew mutinees. These ships create no wake at all, one can examine footage of the 'Olympias', the trireme (a much larger vessel) built for the Greek navy in the 1980s. When creating the effects for the film, the VFX team, of whom I was one, elected to put some wake in as we felt, artistically, it looked odd without them. Perhaps we did not add enough fakery to make the ships believable to that section of the audience. The bow waves were photographically sampled from a real penteconter and layered onto the CGI ships incidentally; they could not have been "more real". The difference between realism and believability is key. They are not synonymous. It is not "reality" that the opponents of CGI crave, it is a believability that they see modern films with digital effects lacking.

Believability of course implies "suspension of disbelief". Everyone, but the most credulous, is aware that fictional films are just that. The events portrayed did not occur. Looking at the mechanics of film-making we do not in reality see in a series of edited long-shots and close-ups. We however buy into their believability because of our continuous exposure to them from the first moment we are placed in front of a television as a tot. We absorb what these devices mean to the point where we no longer need consciously to decode them. Much as when reading a novel the experienced reader does not consciously decode the squiggles on a page into letters, process the assortment of letters into a word and then recall the meaning of that word - this happens subconsciously. We experience cinema similarly, there are tropes, conventions and stylistic choices we learn instantly to decode. Puppetry and model making fall into this category. We understand, certainly in the case of films we saw uncritically as children, the symbolism of the animated Talos in Jason and the Argonauts. Though beautifully animated what we see on screen in no way matches what a 100ft tall bronze giant would look or move like, but we learn how to read this image, how to understand it. We learn how to believe it, and images created in the same manner. Such is the depth of our immersion and our ability to believe in these narrative conventions that a journalist can write the following and no-one will pick him up for making an obviously fatuous statement that live-action films are "real":

"On the other hand, for a movie which features what should be appalling scenes of men having their heads bitten off and gently crunched by Grendel, perhaps the most hideous creature ever to be shown on the big screen, not to mention Angelina Jolie starkers, it somehow fails to really get the blood pumping. And I can't help feeling that's down to the fact that the use of CGI is less affecting than live film. If it's not real, why should we react to it as though it were?" - Ben Child


As we become older, more critical and sophisticated, this entrenched belief changes into a nostalgic familiarity for what we loved and responded to when younger. It is now the aesthetic we delight and believe in. The more familiar the trope, the easier it is for an audience to become immersed. To use the literary analogy once more; if, whilst reading a novel, we come across a word we do not understand we are immediately jolted out of the narrative, the artifice of the literary form laid bare in front of us. This is the problem that CGI has to overcome. For those of an age to post on the Guardian website, CGI effects have come after childhood. There is no deeply ingrained way of decoding them. The only time they work for this audience is when they don't notice them because they are so seamless. To put it crudely, this is why critics respond more harshly to imperfect CGI than they do to sub-par models or puppets, they have no inbuilt mechanism for subconsciously decoding what is happening on screen. The huge, sweeping "impossible" camera moves jolt for the same reason, they lie above our subliminal understanding. That these artificial camera moves are so often combined with CGI merely compounds the problem.

The natural reaction of people to something they don't like is blame. In the case of CGI that blame is generally aimed in two directions, the film's directors and those who actually do the work. Directors are blamed for being "lazy" and visual effects professionals are either labelled "boffins" (another way of saying, in the popular lingo, not artistic or creative) or irrelevant because the effects are created by a computer not a person. This is not as complex an issue to understand as the reaction of an audience to what they see on a screen. This is simply an issue of ignorance and misunderstanding.

Part of the problem is that the process of creating CGI is very complicated, full of acronyms and has a massive learning curve for anyone wanting to understand it. Most people have dabbled with a paint set at some point in their lives, even if only as a child. There is some knowledge therefore that creating a beautiful painting is difficult. We understand how it is done and most of us understand that we cannot do it as well as Rembrandt. The same can be said of puppetry or model-making. We can see that professionals do it so much better than most amateurs. Amongst the majority of consumers of cultural product there is a mannerist appreciation of difficultà or skill. Again from the Guardian comments:

"When it comes to special effects vs. real spectacle, let's be honest. Sometimes, we pay for the thrill of watching people do something difficult, perhaps dangerous or just really, really impressive." - BigBennyBoy


This is not new. John Donne, the poet and preacher, wrote in his "Sermons" (1649) about judging the quality and worth of a painting based on the technique of the artist thus:

"A picture without any drapery, any clothes about it...is much a harder thing, and there is much more art showed in making a naked picture, then in all the rich attire that can be put upon it".


If the average audience member believes that CGI is created by a machine without human input it is quite understandable that they would look upon it as an inferior art to that of a model-maker or painter. Even the term "Computer Generated Imagery" perpetuates this myth. I presume the term, "Artist Designed Computer Generated Image" was deemed too unwieldy. Just as a painter is not criticised for not making his or her own brushes and pigment, neither should the digital artist be lambasted for his or her choice of tool. Every digital effect is designed, described and planned by a human, or more often, a team of humans. Within 50ft of me there are painters, sculptors, animators, model-makers, graphic-designers, engineers, scientists and mathematicians. There will be many for whom the inclusion of the latter three under the heading of "creatives" will seem odd. Surely these are "boffins" so scathingly described thus:

"I actually don't think it's the technology that's to blame. It's the folk that 'use' it...the boffins that harness the tools, are blinded by the possibilities; instead of an artist with a vision we get a gadget obsessed dad in front of a flat an HD TV fiddling with the controls and marveling at the apparent improvement in quality.
I don't think they're is anything wrong with CGI or any digital technology, it's just the people of a certain age and temperament that get very aroused - possibly sexually - by the lengths that can be reached, exaggerated, spoiled, overdone, and polished to an unnatural sheen when working in this field.
Boffins are to blame. You have boffins making films. All should be controlled by the director." - francaisenyc


This comment suggests that those with technical skill must de-facto have no artistic ability, or to put it another way, they are not creative. It is a huge failing of our society that mathematics, engineering and computer programming are not seen as creative disciplines, quite the opposite in fact. When one actually examines them it becomes increasingly apparent that they are deeply creative, but it requires a certain basic level of understanding to appreciate it. If one is illiterate then there is no beauty to a novel. We do not however argue that because there are people who are illiterate that the novel is an invalid art-form; we instead suggest that they should perhaps learn to read. Appreciation of any art-form or culturally creative endeavour requires an investment of intellect and time from the audience. Films and TV are absorbed from an incredibly early age, reading comes a little later. To understand the basic principles of computer programming, mathematics or engineering takes effort and time; if one does not spend that time it is unsurprising that looking at the results of these disciplines is unrewarding and perhaps challenging, maybe even an affront. A computer programme can be a very beautiful thing indeed. When its output is an image of delicate complexity and depth it has an additional level of aesthetic quality that even those without an understanding of programming can appreciate. One comment from the Guardian piece writes:

"The wonder of film was in seeing the smoke of the train coming into the station, the rustle of the leaves in the trees. There's nothing wrong with faking these things - the broiling, rolling seastorm in Pinocchio is an artistic achievemennt of the highest order - but when you fake it with algorithms you simply throw away the mysterious germ of truth in film" - ruskin


I am unsure precisely what point is being made here. In reality smoke moves in a mathematically describable way, as do the leaves on trees, these are the laws of physics. A sophisticated piece of fluid dynamics software in the hands of a technically savvy artist can produce utterly beautiful, convincing results. The smoke can be controlled to behave in a fantastical fashion (wizards apparating in Harry Potter) or to mimic reality incredibly closely. For example, the smoke, along with the towers and debris in World Trade Center was created digitally for obvious reasons. The "mysterious germ of truth in film" sounds to me like a pseud's way of describing nostalgia once again mixed with a great deal of ignorance of the processes that are involved in CGI's creation, either in reality or in simulation.

So, seemingly, it all comes down to familiarity and comfort. Children emerging from any of the Star Wars prequels had the same expression of magical delight on their faces as I did seeing The Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi in the 1980s. For this new generation, the current debate on CGI will seem archaic and incomprehensible. In 1929 The American Federation of Musicians ran a series of press advertisements following the introduction of "fake" (pre-recorded) music into films:

"This is the case of Art vs. Mechanical Music in theatres. The defendant stands accused in front of the American people of attempted corruption of musical appreciation and discouragement of musical education. Theatres in many cities are offering synchronised mechanical music as a substitute for Real Music. If the theatre-going public accepts this vitiation of its entertainment program a deplorable decline in the Art of Music is inevitable. Musical authorities know that the soul of the Art is lost in mechanisation. It cannot be otherwise because the quality of music is dependent on the mood of the artist, upon the human contact, without which the essence of intellectual stimulation and emotional rapture is lost."

The idea that someone could object to a recorded film score seems laughable now. In 30 years I believe we will see reprints of the piece from The Guardian being sniggered at in the same way.

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Monday, October 29, 2007

Back To The Village

The Ancient House

I'm so relaxed at this moment I am in danger of dissolving and running down the back of the sofa and collecting in a small pool amongst the seat springs and fluff that accumulates there. We left London on Friday lunch time on a slow commuter train from Liverpool Street out into the wilds of rural Suffolk. For those who don't know the area if you imagine Hobbiton you won't be far wrong. Most of the residents are quite short and rotund and the countryside is rolling green interspersed with farmland. After a change onto a yet tinier train we arrived at Sudbury from where, eventually, we found the 'bus station and thence we crept through the countryside to Clare. Clare is a beautiful village with a rich history. There is a priory founded in the mid 1200s and a the ruins of a castle built by Richard Fitz Gilbert. Our abode for three nights was The Ancient House, a small cottage next to the church. The main structure dates from around 1400 with the pargeting that adorns almost every exterior surface being dated 1476. As was typical with buildings of that time there isn't a single right angle in the place.

T Cooks Through The Crooked Door

There is a 19 inch vertical drop in the floor of the bathroom corner to corner as you get an impression of here:
Sloping Floor

The building is incredible and as with all Landmark Trust houses there is no T.V., no 'phone and no radio. You have no choice other than to switch off and relax. I read and Tinseltroos knitted. One of the items that interested us most was the guest book. All Landmarks have them and every visitor is encouraged to write a few words about their stay. There may be a name here that you recognise:

The Guest Book

During the weekend proper we also went for walks, visited the majority of the pubs and had a roaring fire one night. My birthday managed o be pretty washed out but I did get a new wooly hat hand-made by the mistress of mayhem herself which I am delightedly modelling here:

My New Hat - A Hattest Hat

Here are a few more photographs from the weekend. Now I'm off to enjoy my few last precious moments of mini-holiday before the hell and madness of work descends again.

The Living Room

The Hallway

Wooded Path

Priory Walls

Disrepair

Fruit Offering

Morning Light

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Sunday, October 21, 2007

A Special Place


As I have only had two days off work in the last six weeks my social life has, inevitably, dwindled to practically nothing. My routine is terribly simple:

Q. Am I awake?

If the answer is "Yes" there is a followup:

Q. Are you at work?

If the answer is "No" then I go to work.

This has of course left me somewhat short of things to talk about. The over-riding set of emotions I'm carrying around like over-stuffed panniers concern how things are going at work (you can guess roughly how well by the number of days I've had not here. Hint: More days off equals happier work environment.) Unfortunately I can't really discuss ( a polite way of saying "rant") here about all that because of the general secrecy and other blither that surrounds what we do.

Instead I thought I'd briefly rattle on about one of the things I love about living in London so much. I've lived here for nearly ten years but it's only been in the last few months that I've actually moved right into the very heart of the city. before that I lived about 4-5 miles from the centre which is close but not quite right in the thick of the action. Now however I live in an area that it is possible to identify on the oldest existing map of the city dating from the mid 1500s and that is a rather comforting sensation. To know that the area I live in has been constantly occupied for half a millennium is strange and due the nature of Londoners and London being what they are the actual layout has changed precious little in that time. Looking at the map from 1593 that's atop this post I can see quite clearly the road off which I live and moreover can trace the route I'd take if I were to walk down to London Bridge (then the only way across the Thames) and I find it really no different than it is today. Thanks to the Great Fire of 1666 scarcely anything is left standing predates that aside from the road layout but the is still plenty of ancient material around. For example, my route into work takes me across the top of Lincoln's Inn Fields where the charter of the Bank of England was signed in 1694 in what is now Newcastle House. That building still exists today. The knowledge that wherever I walk I am steeped in centuries of tradition, where people have lived and worked, walking the same routes I do and seeing many of the same sites is a wonderful counterpoint to all the amazing modern developments. The foundations run deep here. As the city grows ever upward toward the sky we can look around and down into the earth and see back to the past. London is a city out of time and I feel so much at home here, temporally as well as spatially.

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Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Milestones

I suddenly realised this morning whilst shaving that I have been a computer graphics professional for ten years this month. My first job was doing titles for a crazy American evangelist who had made a DVD about his UK tour and was having the video post-produced in the town where I was at art college, which is why I heard about and got the job. Not an overly auspicious start, either artistically or morally but I was a poor student and I got paid more for a week of CG work than I would have for a month of shelf-stacking in a supermarket which was my other possible summer job.

When I look back at who I was then and the aspirations I had I realise that I'm exceptionally fortunate. The 21 year old me desperately wanted to work in visual effects, and through a few twists and turns of graphic design and kids TV series I made it. I am one of those lucky, lucky people who manage to achieve their dreams and even though I complain about work, especially the pressure and the hours, I wouldn't want to swap it for anything else. Perhaps another company, perhaps working in commercials again as a change from features, which I've been doing non-stop for 6 years now, but essentially I do what I love and what I assume I'm regarded as being quite good at it since they keep paying me.

I suspect in ten more years I shall probably be doing pretty much what I am now.

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Sunday, June 03, 2007

Salad Days Are Over

I've been out and about for the last few days hence the lack of keyboard presence. Thursday saw myself, Tinseltroos and Sisoftroos at London Zoo to see Golden Lion Tamarins, the amazing gorillas in their new enclosure, tigers and of course, the penguins:

Penguins

On Friday Tinseltroos and I boarded a train up the North to visit my mum. We had a lovely weekend visiting Hawksmoor, my favourite place on Earth as well as venturing into Nantwich to get local small brewery beer from the fantastic Barleycorns. Otherwise we just took it easy.

Kip

Mama Atrocity took great delight in digging out all my baby photos to embarrass me with in front of my beloved who I think swung between amusement and thinking me cute when little. I took the opportunity to make copies of a few so that I can have records of my formative years to hand. I won a beautiful baby competition in the local newspaper with this shot. What went so wrong after that?

Small Atrocity


Today, after a delicious fried breakfast cooked by Mama Atrocity which allowed Tinseltroos to taste her first North Staffordshire oatcake (I'm so proud) we got the slow train back to London which enabled me to do some reading, play a little Mario Kart and listen to some backed up podcasts. This afternoon I finished removing the paint from my bike frame and began sanding the little patches of surface rust off. I sorted through the DVDs downstairs, the majority of which belong to me in order to separate mine out to be boxed later in the week. That done I've started shredding my old financial papers. This moving house business is a lot of work. Still it'll be well worth it; I can't wait to set up a little home with Tinseltroos. It will be almost like we're grown-ups or something.

Tomorrow I start back at work following my month long hiatus. It's been exciting, relaxing and I've got a lot of stuff sorted out ready for the move. I think I'm in good shape to work and to pack up my belongings. It's going to be a frantic fortnight. Bring it on.

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Wednesday, May 30, 2007

A Strange And Comforting Thing

Here is a photo I took this morning as I was walking up One Tree Hill. From the top, next to an oak on the site of a tree where Queen Elizabeth the First took shelter in 1602 giving the area its name of Honor Oak, you can see across the city to Saint Paul's Cathedral. It is strange to think that if I stood on this spot 400 years ago I'd still be able to see it just as it is today. That is one of the reasons I love London so.

Me One Tree Hill

You can see Saint Paul's a little better in this blow up. It pleases me immensely that it is still unobscured by all subsequent developments. I can only imagine how impressive it must have looked when it dwarfed all buildings in the city.

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Monday, April 23, 2007

The Pitt Rivers Museum


The Pitt Rivers Museum, originally uploaded by Mr Atrocity.

Tinseltroos and I went to Oxford on Sunday. The Pitt Rivers Museum is a beautiful Victorian museum devoted to anthropology and is, so I'm told, featured in the "His Dark Materials" books by Philip Pullman.

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Friday, April 20, 2007

Troy Crew


Troy_Crew, originally uploaded by lornapaterson.

On the eve of finishing another movie (hopefully), here's a photo courtesy of Missy P, of the crew from the first film I worked on practically beginning to end. I was so young and naive in those days...

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Monday, February 12, 2007

English Food


English food has a pretty rotten reputation worldwide. This, it has often seemed to me, is rather unfair as there is a great history of cooking here with as much regional variety as anywhere else. People like Keith Floyd and Gary Rhodes have somewhat rehabilitated the cuisine of this sceptered isle latterly but the original champion was Jane Grigson. She has two seminal books, "Good Things" and "English Food". I've just treated myself to the latter to inspire me once I have some time to cook again. Whilst the relative merits of any nation's cuisine can be argued for eternity, one of the joys of English food is the names that adorn some of these wonderful old dishes. Here's a list of a few favourites culled from a brief browse.
  • Murrumbidgee Cake
  • Stuffed Monkey (a cake; fear not)
  • Kidneys In Their Own Fat
  • Finnian Haddock
  • Whim-wham
  • Gooseberry Fool
  • Doris Grant's Loaf
  • Cornish Charter Pie
  • Jugged Hare
  • Cockie-Leekie
  • Hindle Wakes
I promise I haven't made any of them up.

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