Why did the Museum of East Anglian Life change its name?

It’s fair to say more than a few feathers were ruffled when the agriculturally-focussed destination in Stowmarket switched up its name to become The Food Museum - the first of its kind in the UK.

But, says visiting and services manager Chloe Brett, the move hasn’t stopped visitors voting with their feet this year, as the site returns to ‘business as usual’.

And the team are delighted to have just picked up the Association of Suffolk Museums’ Large Museum of the Year award.

Chloe, my guide for a morning, has a real bounce in her step as she leads our one-to-one tour.

Her pride in the museum, its people, its achievements, its community spirit, is written all over her face as she speaks. After more than a decade here, this isn’t just a job – it's a vocation.

We meet in the shop/visitor centre, where food and farming books sit shoulder to shoulder, and shelves brim with local and British produce...and a few more unusual offerings, including smoked dried crickets.

Insects are meant to be the food of the future, Chloe reminds me. I buy some for my kids to gross them out (sidenote: they actually liked them).

The Museum of East Anglian Life celebrated its 50th anniversary in 2017, with Chloe explaining that talk about changing its name had been in the works for a long time – probably since then. It wasn’t a fly-by-night decision. The team understood people don’t like change. “Especially us Suffolk folk,” I tell her, wryly.

“We started having these conversations about what the museum of the future looks like,” Chloe tells me as we stroll the grounds. “One of the things that came out was ‘what is the story the museum is trying to tell?’ ‘what is the main narrative?’

“We looked at our collections and there was a lot to do with farming and food production and that sparked the idea that there could be a more complete narrative for the site – to have it as a food museum. There is so much to talk about when there comes to food, isn’t there? It’s a huge topic!”

And, I agree, a topic most of us love...and one that’s essential to daily life.

More than 40,000 objects reside at the museum – many of them ferreted away in a secure warehouse. I’m offered a rare glimpse at the collection. It is a time capsule. Towering industrial shelves burst at the seams with artefacts, from machinery rescued from Norwich’s iconic Colman factory, to hand carts, milk floats and vintage signage. A contemporary crypt.

It's part of a huge digitisation project, with volunteers listing and categorising objects they feel are important. “We don’t give them criteria,” Chloe says. “We want them to choose items that catch their eye, or that they think stand out, so they can build up a selection of star items. Most of them aren’t worth a lot of money – they could be a basic household object – but they could be a nice example or something that’s a bit more interesting.”

“There’s a lot here...do you turn anything away, or are you secret hoarders?” I joke.

“We have so many enquiries from people who want to donate,” Chloe smiles. “And that’s really nice. But we’ve got to the stage now where if we take something on it’s because it’s something we need to add to the collection, or a better example of something we already have. Having so many objects, a lot of things never see the light of day, so our digitisation project should allow us to get more out of storage.”

We come to a clutch of modernised farm buildings – I note the perfect spot, bang in the centre, for a picnic.

The refurbished William Bone building reopened its doors in the summer, having been transformed with funding from The Arts Council and the Local Enterprise Partnership.

Heavily glazed to invite the light in, and redesigned to make the most of the capacious measurements of the barn, it is one of the newer highlights of a visit here. To one side is an annually changing exhibition (currently dedicated to hedgerows and foraging)...while on the other a pair of chefs are squirrelling away, tending to steaming pans, furiously bubbling pots and beeping ovens.

It’s one thing to show visitors what happens in the food world (growing, harvesting, manufacturing), but it’s the end result that’s most fascinating.

So I think installing a demo kitchen – one where museum-goers can see, smell, and, crucially, taste, the very ethos of its starring exhibition - is inspired. It addresses a widening disconnect in society between food production and what’s on our plate.

On the table are what my kids call ‘witches brews’. Teapots of foraged berries and leaves accompanied by little cups for sampling. There are Kilner jars of damson jam, blackberry jam and jellies. Blackberry leather has been torn onto a plate. And there are takeaway instructions for recreating the concoctions at home.

The brilliantly and aptly named cook Hannah Salmon (nee Baker!) heads up the kitchen project and at the time of visiting is concocting crab apple jellies using modern and traditional varieties. She tells us she loves experimenting – so this is probably her perfect job.

Chloe leads me next into another new gallery with temperature control where they can “take bigger loans from other museums. In the past we wouldn’t have passed the security measures.

“We have a real mixture in here. Photography and traditional art and paintings by younger artists, and lino prints.”

Videos relating to this year’s foraging focus play on a loop.

Trudging over crisp, freshly laid autumn leaves, we continue onto the museum of my childhood. I remember so clearly running about the fields, being enchanted by the animals, and walking alongside the historic buildings at the bottom of the site as a child.

The Suffolk Trinity all live here (Red Poll cows, Suffolk Punch horses and Suffolk sheep), sharing the land with a bunch of curious (and greedy) goats, and wildfowl (already at the time of visiting tucked away for biosecurity after the recent avian flu outbreak).

On the fields around them, traditional farming methods are in operation – including The Norfolk Rotation – with members of the team using old machinery to plough and harvest.

“We do ‘have a go farming’ every morning,” says Chloe as we navigate the farmland. “It’s so great. We have people picking stones and bird scaring. Kids absolutely love it. We had a school in a little while ago. I’ve never seen anyone be so happy about picking stones!”

When the ground isn’t populated by cover crops such as clover, vegetables are grown on site here, and in the museum’s walled garden. “We took our café in-house for the first time this year,” Chloe adds. “It’s our intention to have as much grown on-site sold there as possible. If not, it will be locally-sourced.”

Volunteers are busy getting in the last mowings of the year around the orchard, where young fruit trees – many of them East Anglian, but largely British, are taking root.

I spy the grounds’ iconic wind pump (rescued from Eastbridge by Minsmere) where pathways lead to miles and miles of prime walking ground, and a sculpture exhibition.

The watermill beyond, fusty and static in my youth, has been revived by funding from a number of benefactors. Its bones have been mended and it’s absolutely fascinating to witness the ingenuity of history's industrious engineers.

For a spell this place was Chloe’s ‘baby’ (she was in charge of mill tours), and she’s justifiably elated that finally, after a lot of graft, it’s in working order.

“We can now grind our own flour,” she delights, pointing out some of the finer details of the workings of the mill, and the enormous grinding stone. “The next stage is to grind flour for human consumption. We have crops here we can turn into flour, and we can bake a loaf of bread on site to connect the dots.

“This really shows how things worked in the past. Now, so many processes in food manufacturing are behind closed doors, and I think people have lost the connection with how things used to be made. To be able to use a traditional watermill to make flour is lovely.”

Tours of the mill take place at 2pm on a Friday. In fact, she says, there are tours every day at the same time – showcasing different parts of the museum, and partnering with tradespeople who work from the site, including a charcoal-maker and a guy using coppiced wood to make hurdles.

As we circle back, we pass an outdoor bread oven where local children in receipt of free school meals spend time in the holidays learning about food, getting involved in a bit of cooking, and eating the results. A fantastic initiative.

“We’ve had some ladies who are refugees in too,” says Chloe. “We were really interested to see what they make, especially their bread, but they were so keen to learn how to make a proper English apple crumble. It was nice to do that. To share recipes.”

Speaking of sharing food, Chloe and I poke our heads into the new café, Feast, which has just opened to the public.

Far from the canteeny vibes it gave when I last visited so long ago, Feast is positively hipster, with its potted plants, neon lights and stark white walls.

It is, though, warm, and everything is homemade where possible, I’m told, from cakes and soups to sausage (and nosage) rolls, hummus dippers, and the chef’s very popular lentil daal – perfect for warming the cockles on an autumn or winter’s day.

“We’re really pleased with how it’s turned out,” says Chloe. “Everyone wanted to get involved with the redesign of the café - unsurprisingly!”

We round off the tour with a poke around Abbot’s Hall. A mansion house wrapped by mature, leafy trees. “The last people who lived here were the Long family’s spinster sisters. They donated all the land and the house to make a museum. It was their intention for it to be used for learning purposes. The last sister passed away in 1987, but they’d already given us the land, and lived here while the museum was being used. I think they would love what we’ve done.”

In the walled garden, volunteers on their day off (unable to stay away), have come to tend the last of the cut flowers.

While, within the hall, various rooms demonstrate what it is that people really love about this museum. It’s community heart. Upstairs, a local group has painstakingly knitted adorable baskets and beds of fruit and vegetables. Another has highlighted action that can be taken to help the environment in the area.

“We like to be as involved as possible with the community around us,” adds Chloe. “It’s what makes the museum so special.”

The Food Museum is open 10am to 5pm Tuesday to Sunday until October 31, then switching to winter opening hours from November 1, 10am to 4pm. Find out more at foodmuseum.org.uk