Letter from Chip Northrup
Alex Webster Will Be Missed
Alex Webster was one of the most talented, most irascible, and most interesting characters that I have ever known. He grew up in wealth on Spaniards Road off Hampstead Heath in London. He was bounced from one private English boys’ school to another, the victim of undiagnosed dyslexia and the type of bullying that would break a lesser spirit.
He became an accomplished artist and channeled his artistry into his cooking. Always adventurous and full of mirth, he hid his vulnerability behind a brusque carapace.
I once told him that, based on his children’s academic success, he was a most successful father. “What is your secret, Alex?” He gave me that devilish grin: “I just stay out of their mother’s way.”
He made possibly the best gourmet corny dogs ever known—delicacies that only Southern aficionados could fully comprehend, much less appreciate.
I will miss him paddling on the lake. I will miss him ladling out curry at the Cooperstown Farmers’ Market. I will miss arguing with him over nothing and over everything.
Chip Northrup
Cooperstown
