Even though grown-ups do it with fruit, vegetables, even sugar and chocolate, most children are told not to play with their food. I suspect Sue Woolcock ignored the warnings for she has since gone on to win Olympic gold medals for her handiwork. In fact, she's so good, not only has Sue appeared on television but Gary Rhodes once rang her for advice.

ANYONE staying at The Swan at Grasmere next Christmas will be in for quite a spectacle. Taking centre stage in the festive food spread will be a life-size swan carved from margarine. At least that's the plan!

Since Sue and Terry Woolcock took over management of The Swan for Macdonald Hotels & Resorts three months ago, they've had two days off. Margarine sculptures can take anything up to 200 hours to complete - depending on their complexity and a swan is complex, especially if, as Sue would prefer for authenticity, every feather is carved by hand. Sue reckons she'll have to start work in the summer if she's to make next December's deadline.

When I first talked to her about margarine sculptures, I imagined something like the little man with a trombone who graces the Anchor butter TV adverts. Wrong!

Centuries ago the French nobility (who at this time knew nothing about cooking) would employ chefs from the courts of their Italian counterparts, men who were renowned for their culinary mastery. One French noble would naturally want to outdo another and so the Italian chefs stretched their creative talents to the full.

Decorative centrepieces designed to take your breath away were de rigeur a bust of an honoured guest, for example, a towering bowl of fruit, all made out of an unappetising combination of beeswax and tallow.

"The centrepieces were meant as a compliment to whoever was visiting," explained Sue, who added that the Romans did something similar, although not on quite as grand a scale as the chefs to the French courts.

Today's margarine sculptors use a hydrogenated vegetable oil, the stuff to be found in commercially-made puff pastry. Flex' has a very high melting point so cold hands help, but they're not vital. It is also very malleable as illustrated by the fighting cockerels at present in storage at The Swan. I can't wait to see George and the dragon which should have arrived from Somerset with the rest of the Woolcocks' chattels this week.

George' was the first sculpture to earn Sue a gold medal at the culinary Olympics in Germany. That was back in 1988; Sue has won three medals since. In fact, she's been so successful that to give everyone else a chance she's now only allowed to judge.

All a far cry from the little boy with pan pipes' which set Sue sculpting in the first place, and a long way removed from the career she had planned as a teacher.

Primary school children had been her goal art her specialist subject (which explains a lot). But her sister had a hotel and Sue fell in love with head chef Terry.

The couple set their hearts on a place of their own where they could work together and they succeeded grand style for 21 years they ran a harbour-side seafood restaurant in Weymouth which attracted an international sailing clientele.

Sue was often front of house but sometimes found her way into the kitchen where she became interested in patisserie. After completing basic training at college she went on to be schooled by world-class patissier, John Hubert from Switzerland, then head of his field at Thames Valley University, and now a close friend.

Sue would often accompany Terry, a former member of the British culinary team and a judge himself, to competitions up and down the country.

"I saw other people doing margarine sculpting," said Sue who decided to enter "an obscure competition in Cornwall" with a figure based on an ornament at a friend's house. Her first effort won a silver medal.

The culinary Olympics which are held in Germany every four years followed and she won a gold medal at each.

Sue was also one of the first people to introduce colour into sculptures. Flex is white but in the two-feet tall carving of a scene of seven well-known chefs, their hands and faces were made flesh with the help of food colouring.

Sue uses a combination of favoured tools (a cocktail stick, an old spoon, whatever does the job), and her hands to create the sculptures, which have a sprung steel frame at their centre for support.

"Without the frame the sculpture would collapse," said Sue, who's also tried her hand at ice-sculpting. "But you have to wear wellies and work in a fridge!"

Ice sculptures don't last either (unless you've got room for one in the freezer). The margarine sculptures can last for years, however, if they are looked after properly.

When Sue is judging other people's sculptures, she looks for well planned work with star appeal.

"I also consider the skill level - the way hands are carved is a good indication of that. I also look to see if everything is in proportion. Obviously the margarine can pick up a lot of dirt and dust so I check to see if it has been worked in a clean atmosphere."

Sadly, margarine-sculpting teachers are few and far between, which is why Sue is often in demand. Not only has she run masterclasses, but she also got a phone call from Gary Rhodes when he was commissioned to produce a festive sculpture for the window of Harvey Nichols.

And when television's Generation Game needed an expert demonstration for another batch of hapless contestants, Sue found herself sculpting a bust of Bruce Forsythe for an audience of millions nationwide.

"I know of only one book on the subject of margarine sculpting," said Sue, who added that she would love to run some courses at The Swan. However, it looks as though she and Terry have an extremely busy year ahead. Call mid-week to be sure of sampling some of Terry's delicious cooking; the restaurant and pub are often packed at weekends so you'll need to book.

"We've also got four weddings planned for 2003 (nuptials are a first for The Swan) and a civil licence pending," added Sue.

Might I suggest that if the bride and groom want a Sue Woolcock centrepiece, make sure you give her plenty of notice!

January 16, 2003 09:30