Dawn makes hats fit for Kate

York milliner Dawn Guibert who
designed a hat worn by Kate Middleton

York milliner Dawn Guibert is at Cheltenham races this week – getting her 2012 season off to a flying start

DAWN Guibert still remembers the shock she felt when she picked up a magazine to find Kate Middleton wearing one of her creations.

The York milliner picks up the story: “Kate Middleton had gone to Get Ahead Hats, where I supply hats.” Kate went on to wear the hat at a society wedding… and was photographed by the paparazzi.

“That hat was everywhere!” recalls Dawn. “For about a month, it was in every newspaper and magazine. Nobody knew I had made it.”

The hat had a special poignancy for Dawn. It was part of a collection she designed following the tragic death of her first-born son, Jem, who was born prematurely and died in her arms at just three days old.

“Because these were the first hats I designed after my child died, I named each of the hats after a gem stone. The one Kate wore was called Jet.”

Although Dawn makes hats for Get Ahead Hats, she has also launched her own exclusive, bespoke range, simply called Guibert.

“All Guibert hats are one-offs,” explains Dawn. “Most are commissions. Guibert hats are for hat lovers… to buy a Guibert hat you really have to love hats. They are a work of art.”

It can take three times as long for Dawn to make a bespoke hat, which can cost from £250 upwards. Her most expensive commission so far cost £1,200. “This was for Eddie Stobart, the haulage company, which wanted a hat for Ascot to promote the business,” explains Dawn. For this, Dawn made 45 fabric roses by hand, in six of seven different colours, with the same number of hand-made leaves and the name ‘Stobart’ emblazoned across the back of the hat.

She prides herself on the attention to detail and traditional craftsmanship. All her hats are hand-blocked and stitched and she uses fabrics rather than sinamay 90 per cent of the time.

“I’m trying to bring the art of millinery back into the industry,” says Dawn, who is married and has a son, Sam, aged four.

As a child, Dawn used to make clothes and went on to study fashion at college.

“I wanted to be a sculptor, but went into clothes design, then made hats, which is a combination of fashion and sculpture.”

Dawn’s artistry is evident in her work. In the new Guibert collection for 2012, we find hats that look like snakes twisting up through a large silk flower and a pill box hat in purple metallic fabric with giant roses and netting as a finishing flourish.

Fashion trends are also evident in the new collection. “Vintage clothing is very popular so there is a vintage style hat this year, which takes you back to the days of Audrey Hepburn,” says Dawn. This hat is in black with white polkadots and is finished with a bow in the same fabric and a large white flower. It looks perfect with a little black dress and a pair of long gloves.

Metallics are another big trend that Dawn has incorporated in the new collection.

Dawn is becoming well known on the racing circuit for her super-stylish designs. TV presenter Zoey Bird, who presents At The Races on Sky TV, is a fan and wore Dawn’s creations for all four days of Ascot last year. This week at Cheltenham, Zoey will be wearing a Guibert hat when she comperes the best dressed lady event.

As for the fashion, Dawn expects Cheltenham to produce its usual stream of classic outfits.

“It’s very twin-set and pearls,” says Dawn. “It’s a very classy affair.”

And her outfit? Dawn says: “I’ll be wearing a new coat from Pinko and a tartan and velvet hat.”

A Guibert one, of course.

Find out more at guibertmillinery.com

Stalk this way

Rhubarb growers... Janet Oldroyd-Hulme and her husband
Neil at their farm at Rothwell, West Yorkshire

MAXINE GORDON heads over to the ‘Rhubarb Triangle’ for a true Yorkshire delicacy

IT is a scene that has remained unchanged for five generations.

In candlelit sheds, men and women are bent double, picking rhubarb stalks the length of their arms.

But this isn’t any old rhubarb.

This is Yorkshire Forced Rhubarb; the gold standard of the industry; the real McCoy.

The tell-tale sign is its astonishing colour, a soft pink, a shade not often seen in Yorkshire at this time of year.

Then there is the taste. Not the tongue-sticking tartness of the more common outdoor variety. This is a lighter, more tender, and sweeter stalk.

Such is its superiority, Yorkshire Forced Rhubarb now has protected status from the EU, in the same way as Champagne, Parma Ham and Jersey Royals. This means only produce grown from within the forcing sheds of the ‘Rhubarb Triangle’ between Leeds, Bradford and Wakefield can call itself Yorkshire Forced.

Forced rhubarb owes its special colour and flavour to two things; location and method of production.

Forcing sheds were set up in the shadow of the Pennines, providing the perfect growing conditions. Rhubarb likes frost, rain and the cold – in perfect abundance in this area of West Yorkshire. Also shoddy – or wool waste – was in ready supply. This was used to fertilise the fields, providing necessary levels of nitrogen, on which the plant thrives.

The method of growing is particular too. Rhubarb roots are cultivated outside for two years, but no crop is taken. Instead, all the plant’s energy is kept in its root. Then after a frost, the root is carefully lifted and laid inside giant sheds. These are kept in the pitch black and given heat and water. Deprived of light and food, the plant is “forced” to produce its stalks in search of sustenance. Under these conditions, the stalks grow rapidly; about one inch a day.

The season for forced rhubarb is short – just a few weeks over winter, depending on the weather. The mild spell at Christmas followed by a late frost caused havoc with producers this year and put production behind. The season will be over by the start of April, although fans can ensure it lasts longer by buying in bulk and freezing. Forced rhubarb can be frozen in both raw and cooked form.

Leading growers Oldroyd & Sons at Rothwell, near Leeds, run popular tours of the forcing sheds.

Janet Oldroyd-Hulme – dubbed the High Priestess of the industry – lead the tour I attended this week.

As we tentatively took our places inside the giant shed, candlelight gently flickered in the area around Janet. She shone a torch around the shed so we could see how enormous it was. It was quite something to see row after row of pink stalks standing to attention and waiting to reach the acquired length before being picked.

I was warned to look and listen. “Sometimes you can see the rhubarb move as it grows… and you can hear it ‘pop’ as it bursts out of its bud,” explained my companion for the day, Elaine Lemm, a self-confessed rhubarb geek who has even written a book about the stuff.

In its heyday Yorkshire Forced Rhubarb was a much sought-after product. Until the 1960s, a train dubbed the ‘Rhubarb Express’ left Wakefield station nightly bound for London with 200 tonnes of freshly picked stalks.

Today, just 11 large-scale growers are left in the region, from a high of 200.

But the vegetable (it is only classed as a fruit in the US), is enjoying a revival, with chefs and foodies returning rhubarb – especially the forced variety – to their menus.

Stephanie Moon, chef at the top-rated Rudding Park Hotel at Harrogate, cooked an assiette of rhubarb for the British TV show The Great British Menu.

“Rhubarb is very much a flavour of today,” Janet tells her audience. “Blueberries and cranberries are popular too as people go for a tart flavour.”

And she says rhubarb can be used in savoury dishes too. “With a bit of imagination, you can use it in a variety of ways.”

Elaine Lemm certainly believes this. Her book, The Great Book of Rhubarb (Great Northern, £7.99) is full of interesting ideas with rhubarb; yes the humble crumble is in there, but so too are recipes for rhubarb with chicken, duck and mackerel.

Over a cuppa and a biccie, Janet gives visitors an informative talk about rhubarb. Besides its culinary uses, the plant is also being used by the medical and cosmetic industry. “Rhubarb is a natural cleanser,” says Janet, who recalls farm workers using the vegetable waste to rub oil and grease off their hands.

Medical researchers are also investigating the use of forced rhubarb in the fight against cancer. They have already found that the rhubarb stalk contains natural polyphenols, which are enhanced when roasted.

Janet, who used to be a medical researcher, said: “Plants produce polyphenols when they go under stress. We need polyphenols because they act like super sponges and pull out pollutants and free radicals. When we eat rhubarb it helps keep pollutants out of our bodies and can help reduce your risk of getting cancer.”

Researchers are also looking at how to use rhubarb in anti-cancer drugs.

Rhubarb’s first use was for medicinal purposes (to treat everything from diarrhoea to venereal disease) so Janet says it should not be so surprising if the medical establishment embraces it again.

She said: “Rhubarb has been a great friend to mankind. Hopefully it has got a massive future.”

Laugh yourself well!



Tutor Judith Hardy leads a Laughter Yoga group in York


They say laughter is a tonic, so I've popped along to a Laughter Yoga group in York to help locate my feel-good funny bone...



HO, ho, ho! Hee, hee, hee! Ha, ha, ha! The belly laughs fill the room; amplified by the vaulted chamber, they create a cacophony of cackles that any stand-up in a comedy club would welcome.

 But this isn't an open-mic night in a basement bar. We're in a York church hall; there are only ten of us, and we're practising laughter yoga.Our instructor, Judith Hardy, is leading tonight's class. Most people have brought mats or blankets, although there's not much in the way of yoga poses during the one-hour class.

And although there is plenty of laughter, most of it is “fake” released through a series of exercises directed by Judith.

“The body doesn't know the difference between real laughter and fake laughter,” explains Judith, a mum of two from Deighton, just outside York.

That means if we can learn to laugh to order, we can reap the benefits of a good old guffaw.

“It can lower blood pressure and release endorphins, the feel-good hormones,” says Judith. “Researchers at Oxford University found that laughter has an effect on pain relief.”

Laughter yoga was invented in India in 1995. Dr Madan Kataria was researching the benefits of laughter for a journal paper and assembled a group of people together every morning. After two weeks the jokes ran out, but he kept the group going anyway, encouraging them to practise laughing. His hypothesis was proven, that our bodies cannot tell the difference between acted and genuine laughter and that both produce the same “happy chemistry”.

Laughter yoga is now available the world over, and slowly taking off in the UK. “England is about the last country to offer laughter yoga,” says Judith.

Her classes are for both sexes, although the group I attended at St Edward the Confessor's church hall on Tadcaster Road in York was all female.

And you don't need to be light hearted to get the most out of it. One woman I spoke to afterwards told me: “I'm a really serious person.” Minutes earlier, I'd watched her charging round the room pretending to keep a run-away lawn mower under control and making noises to put Macbeth's witches to shame.

Judith says: “You don't need a sense of humour to do laughter yoga. It's not really about yoga, or laughing, it's about breathing.”

At the start of each class, Judith guides participants in a warm-up. We start with a deep Santa-esque “ho, ho, ho” which rumbles straight from our abdomens. The breathing is the same as that used in yoga pranayamic and requires you to push out your abdomen as you let out your laugh and pull it in as you inhale.

It's this inner body work-out that does the magic and mimics the same physiological and psychological responses from a genuine laugh.

So do we really need to learn to laugh? Judith thinks so. Mostly when we laugh, she says, it's only for a few seconds at a time. But to get the real benefits, you need to laugh for about 15 to 20 minutes in one go.

To this end, Judith has regular laughter “work-outs” at home. “My family think it's a bit mad,” she confesses. “So does the dog!”

But it makes her feel great. She says: “In my laughter exercises, it's not spontaneous. I am faking the laughter, but it feels good.”

She became a devotee after attending her first class about a year ago, when she became redundant. “I found laughter yoga at a very stressful time in my life. I was very sceptical about it; I thought it sounded stupid, crazy,” admits

Judith. “But what I learned is you have to get your mind out of the way; get rid of that voice in your head so you can listen to your body.”

At the end of the session, we all lie on the floor, in a flower formation, heads almost touching at the centre. We begin to practise our laughing. Judith tells us to “throw our thoughts” into the centre. I understand what she means. You need to “switch off”; not think about what's in the pack-up for tomorrow's lunch; not worry about that unpaid bill, and certainly ditch any notion of self-consciousness. It is, says Judith, about connecting with the child in us all and re-discovering a sense of playfulness.

So we laugh. Gently at first, but then it builds, a giggle into a chuckle, and then into a real tummy rumbling roar. By the sound of it, some women even get to the hysterical, tears-in-the-eye, stage. For some, it will be genuine (it is rather funny after all, so the giggles can naturally take over). For others it will be forced. Whichever; it doesn't matter. When we all stop, we all feel great.

For first timer Belinda Levy, the class has had a real impact. “I was hoping to have some fun and have a laugh, and I did,” she says. “I feel lighter with a feeling of openness on the inside.”

One thing's for sure, we are all smiling as we walk out into the cold, dark, wintry night.

Judith runs her drop-in laughter yoga session on the last Monday of each month at the St Edward the Confessor church hall, Tadcaster Road, York, from 7pm-8pm, cost £3.

She is also running classes at  Briar House Resources, next to The Healing Clinic, Museum Street, York: Saturday Laughter: 11am-12 noon (cost £20 for four-week course); Laughter Blaster Stress Release Sessions; 30-minute sessions: 12.10-12.40pm, 12.45-1.15pm (£3)


To find out more, email Judith at judithhardy1@btinternet.com, telephone 01904 728342, and visit laughteryoga.org

Beach treasures inspire York jeweller

York jeweller Karen Thomas reflected in one
of her intricate silver swivel pendants

Shells and pebbles from Filey Bay are the inspiration for the latest works by York's Karen Thomas, jeweller of the month at the city's Pyramid Gallery

LONG walks along the North Yorkshire coast with Collie-cross J unearthed genuine treasures for city jeweller Karen Thomas.

For it was during excursions to Filey Bay that she would turn over pebbles and discover shells that would inspire her silver jewellery making back in her tiny garden studio in Heworth.

And it is here, in a bricked garden shed, no more than three-metres square, where you’ll find Karen hard at work, making moulds, soldering silver and turning her designs into beautiful, wearable pieces that are now sold across the UK and in Europe.

The new year has been particularly busy for Karen. She has been chosen as the “Allure jeweller of the month” at York’s Pyramid Gallery on Stonegate, and has been burning the midnight oil to get extra pieces ready for the show.

The honour is even more special because the gallery has just opened a new exhibition, Thirty-30, featuring 30 British jewellers to mark its 30th anniversary in the city.

Karen says she remembers going to the gallery in her student days when it was on Gillygate.

Karen, originally from Dudley, came to York in 1993 to study craft and design at York’s FE college. “As a student, the Pyramid Gallery was somewhere I went to for inspiration. I never expected my work would ever be in the gallery so it is nice that I have done it and am jeweller of the month.”

Visitors to the gallery will see how delicate seashells found on a North Yorkshire beach have been transformed into beautiful earrings, pendants and necklaces.

Her showpiece is a stunning 45-inch venus and pearl necklace, made from silver venus clam shells and off-white pearls.

There are bolder pieces too; featuring large polished “pebbles” of vibrant turquoise, lilac amethyst and deep purple “imperial” jasper, set in chunky silver claws and made into rings, earrings and pendants.

This collection developed from an earlier range featuring pebbles.

“Living in North Yorkshire, I take inspiration from the landscape and its colours. I am particularly drawn to the natural forms of the dramatic North East coastline,” said Karen.

After a spell at college in York, Karen took a degree in jewellery and silversmithing in Birmingham. A job offer to teach in York brought her back North; she began working with another jeweller and later set up on her own.

From a child, Karen was destined to work with her hands. “I always made things,” she said. “I never played with dolls, but always Lego and Plasticine and bits of cardboard.”

Originally she thought about becoming a blacksmith. “But this is better,” she said with a chuckle. “I get to work inside”.

Karen likes a challenge, and sets out to make many of her pieces as versatile as possible. Hence she has a “swivel” range, where pieces on rings and pendants can literally swivel round to reveal a second design.

Karen carries this idea through to necklaces too. She puts extra holes on chains to give the wearer more choice in where it should be fastened. This means a favourite piece can be worn with a variety of necklines.

Then there are her adjustable necklaces and pendants. These feature two pendants, one large, one small, at opposite ends of the chain. They can be worn so either pendant is at the front.

“I don’t want to make something that somebody will just wear once then put in a box,” said Karen. “I want to know people are wearing it.

“I like to know that they can wear a piece somewhere special and feel a bit glam, but also that they can wear it everyday and just liven up an outfit.”

Find out more at karenthomasjewellery. co. uk

To mark Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month in March, Karen is working on a new collection, and 25 per cent from each sale will go to the Ovarian Cancer Research. Details will be on her website soon.


Karen has also made the shortlist for the annual Craft & Design awards; people can vote for her through her website.

Sophie queen of chocs

Sophie Jewett, left, with Maxine
 and their chocolate lollies

“WHAT sort of chocolate do you like – dark, milk or white?” asks Sophie Jewett as she makes me a cafe latte at her new chocolate emporium, York Cocoa House.

Her question makes me freeze. Sophie is one of the city’s top chocolatiers who runs sell-out chocolate workshops and is heading up the first York Chocolate Festival, so I wonder whether to tell the truth – or lie.

You see, I am a Galaxy/Dairy Milk sort of girl, who can eat a family size bar in one sitting.

However, I am tempted to say that only the darkest chocolate will suffice; the more cocoa solids the better; and how I only ever savour one tiny square at a time.

But deception has never been in my make-up.

I come clean.

“Milk,” I say rather sheepishly, feeling as if I’ve just confessed to Jilly Goolden that I prefer Blue Nun to the finest Burgundy.

To my great surprise Sophie breaks into an understanding smile. Turns out, she’s a Galaxy/Dairy Milk sort of gal too, and her new chocolate venture is aimed at people like us.

“As we get older people think we should like the darker stuff more,” says Sophie. “People feel guilty about having something sweet and creamy.

“Well this is where people can come for their chocolate fix – without feeling too guilty.”

Not that you’ll find Sophie selling bars of Galaxy or Dairy Milk from her grand premises on Blake Street (opposite the Assembly Rooms).

On the menu are the usual ranges of coffees, but hot chocolate and teas too as well as a tempting array of home-made treats. There are brownies and cakes that pay homage to the city’s chocolate heritage; chocolate orange cake and KitKat cake.

Also, from this month, savoury dishes will be available – all featuring chocolate. During my visit I sampled some of chef Claire Davies’ works in progress. Her fiery butternut squash soup, laced heavily with aromatic cardamom, is served with giant white chocolate buttons. It looks and sounds crazy, but there is sanity in the culinary combination. “The white chocolate is just cream, cocoa butter and sugar,” explains Sophie, adding that its addition is similar to a spoonful of yoghurt or cream into the curried soup. Indeed, as the chocolate melts into the soup it leaves an oozy, white swirl that adds a smooth creaminess.

Next comes a veggie chilli, complete with shards of dark chocolate on the side and a mini grater. “People can grate the chocolate straight into the dish at the table,” says Sophie.

The Cocoa House also sells Sophie’s handmade chocolates and truffles. “Try this,” says Sophie with a challenging grin. It’s a rich chocolate truffle made with Yorkshire Blue cheese. My instinct is to scrunch my nose in distaste, but the strong flavours of the dark chocolate and ripe cheese are a surprising hit.

“We also make truffles with real ale using York Brewery’s Centurion Ghost and chocolate orange ones with marmalade,” says Sophie.

She runs chocolate-making workshops too. During my visit, I have a go at making a chocolate lollipop. My first surprise is when Sophie hands me a hairdryer. We use this to melt the mass of Belgian milk chocolate buttons piled up in a plastic bowl. It’s a gentle method to “temper” the chocolate, allowing it to get to the correct consistency to mould it into the desired shape. It is right when a ribbon of chocolate dribbled from a wooden spoon leaves a trail, but this trail disappears when you shake the bowl.

To make the lollipops, we take a spoonful of the melted chocolate and ladle it on to a cellophane sheet upon a small tray. I bang the tray a couple of times until the chocolate spreads out to form a nice round shape. Then I place a stick in the middle, twiddling it around so it too is covered in chocolate, and decorate the lollipop with a sprinkling of strawberry swirls and dark chocolate balls.

With the remaining chocolate, I spoon it into a silicon mould. Sophie puts this in the fridge and about ten minutes later, like icecubes, we pop out the results. The chocolates are delightful, a mix of quirky shapes on an afternoon-tea theme featuring mini biscuits, cupcakes and even a teapot.

Sophie began making chocolates as a child growing up on a farm on the Isle of Wight. As a sufferer of Crohn’s disease, a chronic condition that causes inflammation of the gut, she discovered one of the triggers is chocolate. This means she has to limit her intake, although she still has a sweet tooth; she takes three spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee.

Sophie says she learned how to make chocolate by “trial and error” and seeks through her workshops to show people how to make chocolates in an “accessible way” – hence the use of a hairdryer for tempering rather than splaying the chocolate on a marble slap in the traditional way.

But her ambitions stretch further than running a chocolate business in York. In recent years, she has organised various chocolate events for the York food and drink festival, which spurred her on to launch the city’s first Festival of Chocolate, which will run over Easter weekend. The timing couldn’t be better, coinciding with the opening of York’s newest visitor, York’s Sweet Story, this spring.

Sophie says: “We want to get people talking about York’s chocolate heritage and promote York as a chocolate destination.”

And where better to start than with a spot of indulgence at the York Cocoa House?

COMMENT: Why the Scots deserve to vote on "Devo Max"

SNP leader and Scotland's
First Minister Alex Salmond

AS a Scot, I have had few occasions to feel pride in my homeland. Oh, there was the time the national side scored against Brazil in the opening match of the 1998 Football World Cup. But it was short-lived; the boys in yellow won 2-1. And my hopes are raised every time Andy Murray lifts a tennis racquet at Wimbledon - only to be dashed in the later rounds.

But there is one morning I recall feeling a surge of national pride. It was September 12, 1997 - the day after the devolution referendum. I woke to news that people in Scotland had voted overwhelmingly in favour of a Scottish Parliament (74.3 per cent to be exact) with a considerable majority (63.5 per cent) also voting for tax-varying powers. In short, the Scots had not only voted for their own parliament, but one with teeth.

Eighteen years earlier, it had all been so different. The 1979 referendum on devolution was a washout that left a nasty taste in the Scottish palate. Although a slim majority (51.6 per cent) voted in favour, the then Labour government ruled that at least 40 per cent of the electorate had to be in favour for the result to hold. In a low turnout, only 32.9 per cent had actually crossed the "Yes" box.

Devolution was dead.

Two things brought it back to life:

Mrs Thatcher and 18 years of Tory rule. People living and working in Scotland felt totally disenfranchised under the UK electoral system. As long as England kept voting Tory, Scotland was destined to be ruled by a party it did not want. The final insult was when Thatcher introduced the Poll Tax into Scotland before England.

In the 1992 General Election, Scotland returned 11 Conservative MPs to Westminster, out of a total of 72. In the 1997 election, the Tories won no seats in Scotland.

You don't need to be a maths whiz to realise that democracy wasn't working.

Writing in The Press recently, political journalist Chris Moncrieff revealed his bafflement at Tony Blair offering the Scots a vote on devolution when he came to power in 1997. "Why?" he asks, when Blair had "always professed to be against the break-up of the United Kingdom".

What Chris forgets is that Labour was part of the push for devolution during the Tory years, through the likes of the broad-church Campaign For A Scottish Assembly.

In recent months, we've seen how grassroots efforts are leading to democratic reform in countries across North Africa, and now Burma.

Although Scotland was never ruled by a military junta, Scots felt like they were in chains, politically.

And just as we have seen in Tunisia, Egypt and now Burma, when enough people want change, it tends to happen.

So Blair, ever the populist, was appealing to a long-held ambition for Scots in offering devolution. He hoped satisfying the Scots' appetite for an assembly might diminish any lingering hunger for independence.

Onlookers may look at the current situation and think, like Chris, that Blair scored an own goal. Not only is the SNP running the Scottish Parliament, its leader, Alex Salmond, is First Minister, and is now sparring with David Cameron over when to hold a new referendum, this time on independence.

So is the break-up of Britain imminent? Probably not - no poll has ever shown that Scots prefer independence over devolution, even after 14 years of home rule.

Which is why Cameron wants the referendum held ASAP and limited to a simple Yes/No vote on independence. He thinks he can win.

Salmond, on the rails, wants more time, to build support, but is also considering introducing a "Devo Max" option on the ballot. This would increase the scope of Scotland's political autonomy but fall short of independence.

Polls suggest "Devo Max" is what the majority of Scots would prefer.

Both Cameron and Salmond need to heed the public mood and put the political aspirations of the Scots above their own partisan goals.

Democracy, after all, is something the Scots have fought long and hard for. They will not take kindly to the return of any political straitjacket.

What makes a great coffee shop?

York's "coffee Tsar"
Sadie Walton

Independent coffee shops in York are going from strength to strength. Here I speak to the city's coffee guru Sadie Walton to find out what’s brewing…

SADIE Walton is a 30 year-old-coffee lover who has turned her daily habit into her nine to five.

As the city’s unofficial coffee Tsar, what Sadie doesn’t know about coffee isn’t worth knowing.

Aged 25, she opened her first café – La Cremeria in High Petergate. Two years later, she sold it and opened the York Coffee Emporium. Today, she runs the business online, offering a “boutique coffee-roasting service” for clients, including many cafés and restaurants in the city. She also trains baristas and is to be one of the judges in the upcoming UK Barista Championships.

We arrange to meet in a café of her choice: Coffee Culture on Goodramgate. It sells some of Sadie’s Java blend as its specialist coffee. Needless to say, this is what she orders. “It’s an Indonesian coffee, characterised by a smoky earthiness,” she explains. “It tends not to be very sweet, but full bodied, rich and smooth.”

I order a cappuccino; it features the house blend, and is one of the best coffees I have ever had. The milk is thick and creamy and seems to ooze into the smooth-tasting coffee rather than just sit on the top like a stiff meringue.

Sadie says the skill of the barista – or coffee maker – is often the secret to a great coffee. And it is here, she says, that the independents can really make their mark.

“In the UK, our baristas are not getting the respect they deserve. In Italy, being a barista is a highly regarded profession. In Australia, a barista can make or break the reputation of a café and a great one is highly sought after.”

Even the best beans in the world can taste bad in the hands of a poorly-trained barista, she adds.

So what’s the key to a great coffee? “They have to grind the beans just right so that the water doesn’t come through too fast – that makes the coffee taste weak,” begins Sadie.

How they steam the milk – or “milk texturising” – is crucial too. “You want a creamy foam with lots of tiny bubbles holding it together.”

Getting the coffee dosage right is vital too. “Independents tend to use smaller cups because they are trying to make coffee in the right manner; people don’t want soup bowls of warm milk.”

Although we are in straitened economic times, the coffee industry is yet to feel the pinch.

“The industry has been called ‘recession proof’ although I don’t like to say that,” says Sadie. “It is seen as an ‘affordable luxury’. If you are cutting back on holidays, you can still have your nice cup of coffee in the morning.”

Sadie has noticed the expansion of independent coffee shops in the city, and believes it is probably now at saturation point.

In taking on the big guns such as Starbucks and Costa, the independents can stand out through quality products and service, says Sadie. They can do things the giants can’t do too, she adds, such as offering a range of speciality blends and roasts – in the way popular pubs sell a range of independent beers and guest ales.

“The coffee industry is easily comparable to the micro-brewing industry. And it’s great for cafés to offer something that little bit different.”