Doctors, Dissection and Resurrection Men

The unpredictable weather may not be inspiring you to stroll idly around the city streets at the moment but it's absolutely perfect for planning a day in a museum. The Museum of London should be high on your list anyway but there is a must-see exhibition on right now (until 14th April) with a true and wonderfully gruesome London tale behind it. Ready to immerse yourself in the murky depths of nineteenth-century London? Are you sitting comfortably? Then let's begin . . .

In the summer of 2006, Museum of London archaeologists stumbled across an unmarked burial site at the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel, believed to have been used for patients who had died and whose bodies had been unclaimed. What they found was unexpected and disturbing: many of the graves contained bones from several different bodies, some human and some animal, all showing clear evidence of dissection and anatomical study. Even more disquieting was the fact that the graveyard was used between 1825 and 1841 - despite the fact that before the Anatomy Act of 1832 it was illegal to dissect any cadaver other than that of an executed criminal.

The exhibition sets the background perfectly, with a finely-balanced blend of history and theatre. Medical science was still in its infancy: the accepted treatment for a broken limb was amputation and as there were no anaesthetics any surgery was a brutal experience, with many patients dying of blood loss or shock. Speed was vital: for this, surgeons needed a thorough knowledge of human anatomy, and for this they needed fresh corpses to practise on. The only legal source was hanged murderers from the gallows and competition was fierce.

Grave-robbing became prevalent, with a fresh adult corpse fetching over five times the average weekly wage. Grieving relatives would take shifts watching the graves of the newly-interred, watchmen with dogs patrolled the cemeteries and special iron coffins designed to secure their contents from theft became popular with those who could afford them. As so often, the poor were most at risk; many could not afford burial costs and even for those that could, it was common for several bodies to be in one relatively shallow grave - easy pickings for the so-called 'resurrectionists'. The exhibition has a fascinating diary belonging to a body snatcher, detailing the phases of the moon - careful preparation for planning a raid under cover of darkness.

In an age when many of us carry an organ donor card, it is difficult to appreciate the dread and horror that nineteenth-century Londoners would have felt at the prospect of dissection. At that time dissection was a terrible punishment meted out only to the vilest criminals; mob outcries and riots at public executions had prevented the bodies of those hanged for relatively minor offences being taken, resulting in an official policy of using executed murderers only. In addition, the commonly-held religious belief of eventual resurrection on the Day of Judgement led to a fear of the body not being whole for the afterlife. With donation almost unheard of and the graves becoming harder to rob, some resurrectionists looked to another supply - the living.

In a practice made infamous by Edinburgh's Burke and Hare, London's poor and homeless were now in danger of being 'befriended' before being drugged, murdered and sold for dissection. The case that made headlines, and ultimately led to the passing of the Anatomy Act, was that of London 'Burkers' Thomas Williams, John Bishop and James May - and their victim, the Italian Boy. The corpse's  intended buyer at King's College was alerted by the fact that the body was 'suspiciously warm' and kept Bishop and May talking until police arrived. They were arrested, the house that Bishop and Williams rented in Nova Scotia Gardens was searched, and several items of clothing found in a well. Bishop admitted that he and Williams would offer lodgings to those sleeping rough, drug them with rum and laudanum, then tie a rope around their feet and pitch the unfortunate victim headfirst down the well to drown whilst they went out drinking at a local tavern.

Bishop and Williams were convicted and hanged for murder. In a karmic twist, as executed murderers their bodies were  then sent for dissection - one of the more macabre exhibits is pieces of tattooed skin said to be from their bodies. Another is a plaster cast of murderer James Legg, whose corpse was taken fom the gallows, crucified and then flayed to expose the muscles. A cruel and terrible punishment for some unimaginable crime? No, merely a way for artists and sculptors of the time to settle an argument as to whether depictions of Christ's crucifixions were anatomically accurate or not. Whatever the intended purpose, it is a dramatic sight that will stay with you.

The exhibition ends in a brightly lit, clinical and modern look at where we stand today with medical science and politics and a film where young Londoners discuss how they feel about what happens to their body after death. It's not for the squeamish (or children under 12) but it is a fascinating, thought-provoking and excellently-presented exhibition and I really enjoyed it. Check online for discounts.

Yours, delving into London's dark past just for you,
Girl About Town xx

The V&A Café

The V&A Café looks like any other museum or gallery café at first glance; brightly lit, bustling staff clearing trays, signposted stations for hot or cold food, coffee or cakes - and all heavingly busy. A modern, functional place to take the weight off and fortify yourself with tea and cake before venturing back out into the world's greatest museum of art and design (their words, but does any other venue even come close?). Now take a look at the suite of three interlinked rooms off to the side and it's like stepping back in time; together these rooms make up the world's very first museum restaurant and it is a seriously impressive setting.

The Refreshment Rooms at the Victoria and Albert Museum were intended as a showcase for contemporary design and craftsmanship and are a wonderfully Victorian mix of the ornate and the practical. The main central section is the Gamble Room, designed by James Gamble, Godfrey Sykes and Reuben Townroe. Originally the main doors to this room were directly opposite the museum entrance so this would have been the first room visitors saw; even by Victorian standards this must have seemed imposingly grand. Look more closely; the ceiling is enamelled iron and both the walls and the huge columns are completely covered with ceramic tiles, making this most majestic and opulent of dining rooms completely washable and practically fireproof.

Mottoes espousing the joys of food and drink adorn the beautiful stained glass windows and the frieze is a quotation from Ecclesiastes II:24: 'There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and make his soul enjoy the good of his labour.' Hard to argue with that.

The Morris Room (the Green Dining Room) was the first major commission for William Morris's company Morris Marshall and Faulkner. The dado panels based on signs of the zodiac were painted by Edward Burne-Jones, who also designed the stained glass windows. The influence of William Morris and his pattern-making is most recognisable in the plasterwork leaves and flowers on the walls (although if you are a Morris fan, the rest of the museum has plenty to offer). This room, although beautiful, has a more restrained, quiet feel.

The Poynter room (the Grill Room) designed by Edward Poynter has a homely cosiness to it, with blue Dutch tiles and wooden panelling. The large tiled panels of the months and seasons were actually painted by students from the ladies' tile-painting class at the Schools of Design; this was very much in keeping with V&A Founding Director Henry Cole's  radical idea of involving students and the public in creating this public space. Giving such an important commission to female students would have caused quite a stir in Victorian times.

The beautiful iron stove where a chef in whites would have grilled steaks and chops to order is still in place; the V&A website has sample menus from 1867 - both first and second class - which include options such as jugged hare for 1/6 (i.e. one shilling and sixpence, or 18p) or, from the second class menu, stewed rabbit for 10d (ten pence). That may sound like a bargain until you consider that an unskilled labourer's wage was about a pound a week.
http://www.vam.ac.uk

Nowadays the catering side is handled by Benugo, so expect freshly-prepared basics and great cakes (although as everything is made fresh on the day, quality and availability can inevitably dip if you arrive too near closing time). I hear the cream tea is good, so that's my next visit sorted.

Yours, scratching the surface of London history just for you,

Girl About Town xx

Sadler's Wells

Here's a little piece of trivia for you; Sadler's Wells Theatre has continuously occupied the same site in Islington since 1683, making it second only to the Theatre Royal Drury Lane as the oldest entertainment venue in London. It first came into being when the entrepreneurial Richard Sadler discovered natural wells in the garden of his wooden 'musick house' and realised their marketing potential; the area had been famous during the Middle Ages for its healing waters and was soon a fashionable spa destination for seventeenth-century socialites. However, even the most architecturally clueless (c'est moi) will realise that the current incarnation is not particularly aged; in fact it opened in 1998, rebuilt thanks to fundraising spearheaded by a National Lottery grant. The story of the journey can be found on their website here: http://www.sadlerswells.com/

Sadler's Wells describes itself as 'uniquely dedicated to bringing the very best international and UK dance to London audiences' and they do this by not only staging but also commissioning productions - nearly seventy over the past five years alone. And we're not just talking tutus and tiaras; the performance I went to see (a triple bill by the Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet) felt much less formal and more immediate than most people's idea of traditional ballet and the Peacock Theatre, Sadler's Wells' Holborn venue, is currently showing ZooNation's Some Like it Hip Hop.

This range of dance, from ballet to hip hop and tap to flamenco, is central to the Sadler's Wells ethos; 'We believe dance is the art form of the moment. No other form has the potential to reach so many people, crossing cultural boundaries and appealing to diverse audiences.' Like visual art there is no language barrier and anyone who has cut through Trocadero Underground from Piccadilly Circus will know that teenagers from all cultures who wouldn't be caught dead in a theatre or gallery will focus for hours on getting a new dance move right.

I am absolutely no expert on dance and went with a completely open mind but I was pleasantly surprised by how accessible it was and by the connection between audience and dancers. Whilst some pieces were quite intense others were unexpectedly funny, making the audience laugh out loud. I was made to think, and to feel, and I had a thoroughly enjoyable time; you can't ask for too much more than that. Oh, except that the theatre even has its own bus stop, so you're delivered right to the door. That's service.

Yours, wondering how they can possibly bend all that way and thinking I really should take up yoga again,

Girl About Town xx

Bubbledogs&

Hard to believe that Bubbledogs only opened its doors a month ago, considering the amount of interest it has generated. Pedigree helps (pun intended); owners are chef and sommelier husband and wife team James Knappett and Sandia Chang, whose impressive joint CVs (Marcus Wareing, Per Se, Noma, The Ledbury, Roganic) can be seen in the toilet. No, really; the unisex loos in the restaurant are papered with menus, some with handwritten messages of good luck so presumably leaving gifts from previous jobs.
http://www.bubbledogs.co.uk/

Bubbledogs (the clue is in the name) is a champagne bar that sells grower champagnes and, um, hot dogs. This would be the other reason that everyone is talking about it, and opinion is quite clearly divided on whether the unlikely pairing is a stroke of genius or a faddy bandwagon rip-off. Traditionally champagne has accompanied posh nosh: caviar, smoked salmon, and expensive bite-sized morsels from silver trays. Hot dogs, on the other hand, are usually a couple of quid from the cinema, football ground, or bought as a hangover cure from a roadside van at the weekend. (What? Is that just me?)

So can you credibly pair champers with junk food? To settle this argument, fundamental to the concept of Bubbledogs, I call upon a wine heavyweight. Laura Maniec is the world's youngest Master Sommelier - the highest possible accreditation for wine professionals - and current queen of the New York wine scene. She has recently co-founded wine studio Corkbuzz and is a vocal advocate of drinking champagne with French fries, explaining that the bubbles cut through oil and salt. Hey, if it's good enough for her, it's good enough for me.

Bubbledogs concentrates on artisanal grower champagnes, i.e. small champagne houses where farmers tend their own vines but lack the commercial clout of more famous Grande Marques. This venture simultaneously supports them and brings a wide range of excellent but less familiar fizz conveniently to Fitzrovia. Having briefly checked out the website before my visit I was a little disappointed to discover that only a very small selection are available by the glass at any one time - a fraction of the listings on the site under such tempting headings as 'Fresh Fruit Bowl' or 'A Lick of  Chalk and Stones'. I know they can't open them all, but . . . no matter; we tried the Gaston Chiquet's Selection Cuvée, the cheapest option at a pretty reasonable £6.50 a glass, and a fabulous Benoit Lahaye rosé at £11. More of an enthusiastic fan than any kind of expert, I thought they were both delicious and stood up well to the robust and spicy flavours of our dogs of choice.

Leading nicely on to . . . the food menu. A tad more sophisticated than the 'd'ya want onions?' choice offered by hot dog van man, Bubbledogs dogs come in pork, beef or veggie versions and with a variety of toppings. The full list is available on their website but they all sound pretty good; we eventually plumped for a José, which comes with salsa, avocado, sour cream and jalapeños, and a Sloppy Joe, with chilli, onions and cheese.

The waitress recommended that we opt for a beef sausage with both, which turned out to be a good choice. The sausages are not enormous (standard New York sized, think skinny frankfurters not the fat ones) but were meaty and full of flavour. Were they worth £7.50 each? We enjoyed them, but at the end of the day you're still eating a hot dog, albeit a nice one. Special mention, though, to the sides; excellent crunchy sweet potato fries, plus something I haven't had since living in the USA - Tater Tots (think small, cylindrical hash browns rather than soft mashed potato croquettes). Not bad at £3.50 each.

As a purely culinary experience I'm not totally convinced, but as a whole package it's a really cool and buzzy place to go. Beautiful exposed brickwork, wooden floor, a Manhattan-style copper bar, the ubiquitous bare filament light bulbs and some cute commissioned artwork plus communal seating give Bubbledogs a fun and relaxed atmosphere, perfect for winding down after work. It's not cheap, but then I guess it's a champagne bar in Fitzrovia. Duh.

Another place with a no-reservations policy (unless you're a party of six: worth organising, to be honest) you should either time your visit carefully or be prepared to wait. Actually, it's not that grim as the staff will take your mobile number and call you when a space becomes free. We pootled round the corner to Yumchaa and had a very nice Earl Grey while we waited for our call. Oh, and in case you're wondering what the '&' part of the name is - James Knappett is about to open Kitchen Table, a 19-seat dining area behind the curtain at the back of Bubbledogs where diners can watch and ask questions as he and his team prepare and cook the meal in front of them. Now THAT is exciting.

Yours, chilled and bubbly,
Girl About Town xx