The Best of the West (Country)
A Roundup of River Cottage's Rural Supporting Cast
The passage of time is a bastard of a thing. One moment you’re lying in bed, telling your partner of your plans to start a Substack, and the next thing you know, it’s been a year since you’ve published anything, and 6 months since you last wrote a word.
Author’s note: It’s now been another 6 months since I initially wrote the above paragraph - oopsie.
No matter! Everyone loves a comeback story, and with this one, I might hold the rare distinction of being the first writer to un-retire three times in 10 articles. But how do you break a year-long drought? By returning to the old favourites, of course — and if my insubstantial analytics tell me anything, that calls for a return to River Cottage.
Longtime readers and lifelong friends will be well-acquainted with my love for River Cottage, and though my initial foray into the world of Fearnley-Whittingstall explored the impact the series had on my own life, I figured it was time to take you deeper into West Dorset with a detailed introduction to its many and varied characters.
Michael & Joy Michaud: The Organic Vegetable Gurus
Michael and Joy are some of the first faces we meet in River Cottage and two of my favourites. A husband and wife pair of organic market gardeners and certified seed experts, Michael and Joy might be the most loveable couple on the show.
A pair of PhDs from either side of the pond — Joy grew up in West Dorset, while Michael was raised (I’m assuming, based on his charming accent) somewhere within the borders of Canada — the Michauds’ transatlantic love story began in 1983 when they met at an “international grassland research conference”.
Moving to England in ‘89, the Michauds first made ends meet by selling their organic produce, and later established themselves as Britain’s first post-based proprietors of fresh chillies with their business 'Peppers by Post’. None of this you learn from River Cottage, however, and when we meet Michael and Joy in their poly-tunnel (timestamped below), all we know is that they are exceptionally nice and mad about vegetables — and sweater vests, in Michael’s case.
In Episode 1, Michael provisions Hugh with a tray of his finest seedlings in return for a winter ham from one of the newly arrived River Cottage porkers, a system of barter and exchange that serves as a springboard for many future visits and forms the backbone of the easy-come, easy-go local economy.
Though we see little of Joy in the subsequent seasons, Michael quickly becomes Hugh’s go-to garden advisor and a firm friend, making regular appearances to help battle an outbreak of blight or indulge in a midday meal of fresh garden vegetables washed down with a glass of white wine.
Unlike much of the River Cottage cast, we actually know what the Michauds are doing these days. In 2007, they took their expertise one step further and launched Sea Spring Seeds, an online seed shop with a reputation for rare and unique chillies, including their own special varietal, the Dorset Naga, supposedly one of the world’s hottest chillies.
Antony and Serena Hitchens: The Offensively Tory Landlords
We also meet the Hitchens in Episode 1, and like the Michauds, first impressions prove the most reliable. Unfortunately, unlike the Michauds, the first impression the Hitchens make is one of utter unlikeability: a detestable mixture of poorly disguised, poshly accented racism and the sort of sensibilities you only find amongst the landed gentry. If you’re unsure exactly what I mean, the comment below pretty well sums it up.
I spoke in Pigeons, Pigs and Jellied Pike of the Hitchens’ fondness for words such as ‘ethnic’ and ‘oriental’ to describe Hugh’s culinary adventures beyond the world of meat and three veg — Serena even offers an audible “Oh gosh” when informed she’ll be eating a Moroccan dish — but where they go beyond the pale is in the third episode of the second season.
While assessing Hugh’s trio of pigs to decide which will give up its life to feed the crowd at the upcoming Medieval Fair, Antony says, without even a hint of self-awareness, “I think if one’s going to pick one out of the three, surely it should be one of the two blacks, shouldn’t it?”, followed quickly by, “Well I think the one who’s done better ought to survive, and I think the one who has done less well ought to be given up to the common wheel.”
And just in case you didn’t hear him, Antony drives the point home: “I think in this highly competitive world, the ones who have done best should survive longest”.
In case you think I’m joking, I’ve taken the liberty of timestamping the interaction for you below.
Roy and Barbara Gunning: The Longest Bean King and The Homecraft Queen
Staring down the barrel of the Beaminster Horticultural Society’s Summer Show, Hugh meets the Gunnings in Episode 3, hoping to glean some wisdom from a pair of 25-year show veterans.
In addition to his clutch of prize-winning crops, Roy is best known as the Long Bean King and holds an unbeaten 11-year streak of leguminous wins in a category of which he is the sponsor. But there is more to life than the longest bean, and despite his dominance, Roy yearns for the Challenge Cup, the overall grand prize of the Beaminster Show, and his elusive white whale.
From the garden to the kitchen, the Gunnings appear to have the Summer Show in the bag, as Roy’s wife Barbara faces off against Hugh with her homemade chutney and a raspberry jam that she hopes will be enough to claim first place.
However, it’s not just chutney simmering away in this episode, as it would seem that Barbara has the hots for Hugh. It is unclear whether it’s Roy’s dour expression or Hugh’s seductive, lispy delivery of the words ‘Victoria sponge’ that is the cause of Barbara’s wandering eye, but Episode 3 is fuelled by flirtation, threatening to boil over a proverbial pot that is already brimming with sexual tension.
Alas for Roy, Episode 3 sees him lose both his wife and the much-coveted Challenge Cup after a contentious recount leads to his long-time rival, the inoffensively named Ted Smith, stealing his short-lived victory. Grimly silent in defeat, Roy’s fate is a heartbreaking glimpse into the highs and lows of rural life, and the cutthroat nature of its humble traditions.
If you feel bad for Roy, you probably should, as we never see him again. Barbara, meanwhile, makes several more appearances, most notably in Season 2, when she and Hugh fall soaking into each other’s arms at the Hitchens’ medieval fair.
Once again, I’m not joking.
Ray Smith & Victor Borge: The Bathtub Butcher & The Prince of Parma Ham
Standing proud as West Dorset’s odd couple, Ray Smith and Victor Borge are not, in fact, a couple, but a pair of blokes bonded by a mutual love of pork.
While my alliterative appellation makes him out to be a bloodthirsty killer, Ray Smith is just a run-of-the-mill freelance butcher brought in to help Hugh process his pigs after those pesky Europeans (and their pesky policy) prevent him from disposing of them garden shed style.
A retired restaurateur, Victor Borge is River Cottage’s bon vivant and an expert in the preparation of prosciutto di Parma. Together, Victor, Ray and Hugh spend a day salting, curing, stuffing and poaching a bewildering array of hams, sausages, salami, pâté and pig’s trotters ahead of the season finale: the River Cottage Pork Party.
While our previous pairs are all joined in the bonds of holy matrimony, I’ve chosen to lump Ray and Victor together for two reasons. Firstly, we the audience almost never see one without the other, and secondly, they’re just such a delightful pair that it would be cruel to split them up.
From their initial batch of bathtub bacon to the lunchtime battle over the final piece of black pudding, Ray and Victor’s friendship is immediate and sincere — so much so that one of the final shots of the season finale is of the two men on Hugh’s terrace, side-by-side and snacking on pigs ears.
Dennis Cheeseman: The Avuncular Fisherman & Eater of Plain Prawns
Episode 4 sees us take a trip down memory lane, where we meet Dennis Cheeseman, an old fisherman who played a pivotal role in Hugh’s childhood on the Dorset coast. In a touching segment, Dennis brings Hugh back in time and out on his boat to pull prawn pots for a beachside cook-up.
The cooking is, of course, Hugh’s domain, and he rises to the occasion by preparing the whole Cheeseman family a delectable course of prawn tempura garnished with spring onion and sea lettuce. This is something of a shock to Dennis, who has only ever eaten his prawns one way: boiled in fresh water for five long minutes before being manually re-salted.
If that’s not depressing enough for you, it’s clear by his hesitant ‘They’re not hot are they?’ when reaching for the tempura that Dennis also prefers to eat his prawns cold. An alternative interpretation of that question is that Dennis is attempting to ascertain the spiciness of the dish, the merest hint of which would surely see him toss it back in the drink. Whichever reading you prefer, the conclusion is the same: this is one very English man.
To his credit, Dennis acknowledges the merits of the tempura, which must make for a welcome change from his spread of plain bread and cold, salty prawns.
The Chideock Cider Circle: Old-School Misogynists & Certified Pissheads
Trailing the Hitchens (but still a very long way behind) in the ‘Guests That Make You Physically Cringe’ category is the Chideock Cider Circle. Popping up in Episode 5, the Chideock Cider Circle gathers weekly every autumn to collect windfallen apples, a highly-prized raw material and the precursor to a decidedly deadly home brew.
Each week they gather 50 bags of apples, with each bag making three gallons of cider. Feel free to do the maths on that one.
In the truest spirit of River Cottage, Hugh is allowed to tag along provided he pays his way, which he does so in the form of a hearty potato tortilla. Call me uneducated, un-European or just plain ignorant, but potatoes baked in beaten eggs is a frittata every day of the week, no matter what the Spanish call it. But that’s neither here nor there.
Meeting the chaps back at the cider house, we are transported into another era as we witness firsthand what goes into an evening’s pressing, namely: sweat, cigarette ash, and the exclusion of women. That’s right, unless it’s a weekend, there are no women allowed, and god help any who come knocking in search of their husband, as the Circle is quick to tell Hugh with a hearty belly laugh.
Although they’re not likely to win any prizes for progressiveness, one area where the Cider Circle will not be beaten is in drinking — and let’s be very clear, these men know how to drink.
With naught but bread, cheese and pickled onions (christ) to line the stomach, the post-pressing piss-up is one of epic proportions, involving jugs of cider, hard-fought games of skittles, and skulling contests backed by country wagers of bacon vs booze.
Maybe they’re not so bad after all.
Honourable Mentions
I could add another half a dozen names to the main list, but for both our sakes, here’s a handful that were unlucky not to make the cut.
The Jacked Chicken Farmer
The picture says it all really.
The Mustachioed Chicken Fancier
The man who helps Hugh upgrade his flock in Season 2, and whose catchphrase “Give ‘em a wink” has become a staple in my vocabulary.
The Vegan Mice Psychics
Complete with burning sage, this cruelty-free pair attempts to help Hugh relocate his resident rodents in a non-violent manner.
The Mackerel Posse
In addition to their time-honoured tradition of setting and hauling their fishing nets by hand and oar, the Mackerel Posse earns their spot on account of their post-fishing feed of mackerel boiled in a bucket of seawater and served on a wooden board.
If you’ve enjoyed reading about River Cottage, you can watch the first two seasons for free on Tubi.