The Strange Case of the Fillipino Blackberry Farm

Background context
An acquaintance of ours is in the process of purchasing a prawn farm in the Philippines.

Chef:Did you see that story in the paper this morning about the people in Indonesia that were crushed in a stampede to buy half price blackberries?

Self:No.....Can you not get them over there?

Chef:Well they were selling them off cheaply,people were knocked unconscious and injured.

Self:That's what Acquaintance should be doing.

Chef:What??

Self:That's what Acquaintance should be doing,planting a blackberry orchard.

Chef:Eh??What are you on about??

Self:Acquaintance should plant a blackberry orchard.Instead of the prawns.He could clean up.

Chef:EH?? Are you serious??I'm talking Blackberrys not blackberries,you know like the one you've got in your hand right now....

Self:..............oh! (manic laughter)

Chef:You klampet(tears rolling down cheeks)I can see the headline now 'hundreds trampled underfoot in mayhem to secure half price punnet of blackberries'

Bargain punnet

Self:............................


Chef:I think you need a holiday.

Personally, I think Blackberry is a silly name for a mobile phone.....

The Children from Hell

I'll thcream and thcream until I'm thick...

Sometimes I wonder whether diners fully understand the purpose of a bookings system.
You see, contrary to popular belief the booking system isn't actually for the convenience of the diner.
Its for the kitchen.
Think about it.
What miraculous cooking invention do you think we have in the kitchen that would enable us to cook for a whole evenings bookings should they all choose to rock up at the same time(8o'clock)??
The booking system enables the kitchen to cope with cooking a diverse range of dishes,to order and more importantly hopefully send the finished dishes out to a consistent standard and to the satisfaction of the customer.
Its clear lots of diners don't get this.Many will come in without a reservation,which is fine (but please have some flexibility),then when you politely explain that we cannot accommodate due to being fully booked they will look across at empty tables and say 'why cant we sit there?' with no thought that in,15,30,45 mins there will be a people sitting at the table who have had the foresight to ring ahead and book.
Strange though it may seem we do actually want diners,without them we would be bankrupted pretty quickly.
Yes,surprisingly we don't want to turn you away,we want your cash.
Which brings me to the anathema of the vacant table.
The availability of a table doesn't mean you can sit down and order immediately.Making a table reservation isn't a strictly accurate term,what you are actually waiting for is your slot in the kitchen for the food to be cooked.
Which brings us to the most common problem.
Diners ringing to reserve a table at a specified time will often be offered an alternative time should their preferred slot be unavailable.They will then accept the alternative time,but invariably arrive at the time they originally requested,be this early or late.
This is very rude.
It usually causes least inconvenience to the perpetrators,with tables being booked later who have had the decency to turn up on time bearing the brunt of any delay.

Last Saturday night we were very busy.
At 6pm a table of five arrived who were not due until 7pm.Their original request had been for 6pm,I know this because I had taken the call,I had sensed they were a tad disgruntled at not being able to be accommodated at their chosen time. Grandpa,Grandma,Mother and two girls aged around 10 years.
As the table was ready they were seated and served drinks.
As I walked past at around 6.10pm,Grandpa called me over and requested I take their order.I politely explained that their reservation was for 7pm and the kitchen was very busy with orders but I would fit them in as soon as I could,hopefully before 7pm.
Now at that point I could have taken their order,but they would still have had the same wait time for food.Experience has taught us that its better not to take orders too early otherwise you get into the 'I ordered over 40 minutes ago'scenario.This is best avoided at all costs.
What is the point of a bookings system if you don't adhere to it??

Unbeknownst to Table 6, one of the girls was on her break and was eating within earshot of the table.
Grandpa was not happy.'We've already been sat here for 10 minutes' he grumbled.
'Lets be as awkward as possible when they come to take the order' said one of the velvet dressed girls'they're not getting away with treating us like that'
It was agreed I would take the order.
For the record,I am not anti child,I am a mother myself.I like it when parents bring out their children to eat.
It was before 7pm.
I aprroached the table.

Precocious child:'At last...We want the steak(pointing at sister)but cut in half on two separate plates,not one meal with a spare plate,do you understand??'
'What vegetables does it come with?'
Self:'It comes with watercress and roasted tomatoes'
'I don't want any of that'
Self:I tell you what we have a sandwich steak on the bar menu,how about I do two of those for you instead of cutting one in half'
'What's a sandwich steak?'
SELF:'Its a rump just as the same as the one on the menu,just a smaller one'
Then why are you calling it a sandwich steak?Is it a sandwich??We don't want a sandwich..we don't want it in a bit of bread,we want it on a plate,I told you that before..and how much will it be?'Rolling eyes.
Self:'Yes that's fine we can do it exactly the same,on a plate with chips,would you like a sauce?'
'I don't know,I don't know what the sauce is,how should I know(tutting)what is the sauce??' Then without allowing me to answer: 'look,put the sauce in a separate jug and we'll make up our minds when we see it...'
Self(smiling):'How would you like the steak cooked MADAM?'
At last a fleeting flicker of panic,She didn't know how to ask for the steak to be cooked.
Mother came to the rescue'both medium'.
The rest of the table rattled through their order uneventfully.
As I retired from the table I overheard 'well she wasnt very clever was she..'
At some point they had managed to swap their dining chairs for two high back antique Chinese chairs which are really only for decorative purposes.
As I took out steak knives for the table the two girls grabbed theirs and bizarrely thrust them up and down in a stabbing motion whilst rhythmically repeating 'look, sharp, knives'
This unsettled me somewhat.
As we took the meals out,a loud voice emanating from one of the thrones was heard to say 'here come our miniature steaks,they had better be up to standard....'

The adults made no attempt to silence or apologise.
I recounted events to Chef later.
'you should have told them to get out, they're interviewing for the ugly sisters in town..'

Road Trip

I recently accompanied Only Daughter on a brief road trip over the border.
Experiencing gale force winds and biblical rain(typical tartan weather),we decided to break up the journey with an overnight stay,heading straight for the dining room on arrival(lets get our priorities right..),it was busy with proceedings already in full swing.

Don't be misled,I snapped this photo at breakfast,we were first up and RAVENOUS,note clutch bag centre above fireplace.

We were met with a strange mismatch of an identity crisis.The obligatory high back(faux)leather dining chairs teamed with cast iron bar tables(watch your knees on the iron legs) and patterned bench seating a remnant from the days this was clearly a bar not a pseudo posh pub hotel.

'Look over there' says Only Daughter,'someone's stuck a handbag to the wall'

'That's a sporran' I say

'Really?Its huge,looks more like a clutch bag'says Only Daughter.

Rudolph kept a watchful eye over proceedings.

The menu boasted the usual suspects,fish n chips,steak and ale pie,Steak n chips,Bangers and mash.
A pleasant Polish fellow came over to take our order.
There then followed a lengthy wait for food,in the interim a slice of (Co-op?)bloomer and some butter appeared at our table perhaps to stave off the hunger pangs.

Supermarket slice.

As we waited,OD noticed a strange coincidence.The dining room was manned by two be-suited chaps of Eastern block origin,assisted by a very able young Scots lass who exclusively delivered drinks.
Every time an order was taken by either of these two, they then disappeared behind the swing door to the kitchen never to reappear for several minutes.
'They're cooking the food' said OD 'they're taking the orders,then going in the kitchen to put the food in the stove'
Self:'No......'
We both observed the next few orders being taken,then the disappearance into the kitchen despite the very busy dining room.We were both mesmerised.
OD was highly amused.
I must admit it did seem that the waiting staff were putting the food on.

The elderly couple at the next table requested their bill.Twenty minutes later the same was not forthcoming,the lady donned her coat(always a sure indication to bring over the bill).She sat for a few more moments then stood up muttering to hubby 'I've lost patience..'

Pastry crust displaying crumpled paper bag characteristics,please note a similar effect can be achieved by leaning over a mirror(over 40's only..)

OD opted for the pie.The sad bit of parsley perched atop the sallow and wrinkled pastry crust said it all.As the unappetising  crust was declared inedible and flipped off,a congealed glutinous interior was revealed.Clearly insufficient time in the oven to break down the gelatinous gravy.

'Just pick out the meat' I say 'It'll be fine'

OD is not a fussy eater.The meat required the teeth of a far more primitive specimen than she to masticate.

Steak and chips,a minimalistic presentation.

Not very attractive but in fairness the actual steak was nicely seasoned,it had a bite of a bite but was quite tasty.It was advertised as sirloin.Looked more like a sausage.

The presentation was basic to say the least and did nothing to dismiss OD's theory....

We passed on puddings,we had far too much empathy with the waiting staff/chefs to impose even more pressure.

We retired to our room to catch Inspector George Gently,me with a small Talisker and OD with a consolatory packet of Cheese n' onion crisps.

View of Ben More

'Look' I say as we traversed the long corridor to our lodgings,'There's Ben More '

'Where?' replies OD(looking around nosily) 'Who's he..?'

Self:'.................'

We had just settled down when an unearthly buzzing disturbed our relaxation.OD was quicker than the Quickest  McQuick in Quick town.Out of those covers and into the hotel corridor in her PJs, I've never seen her move so fast.

I stood still maintaining some sense of decorum in my M & S Winceyettes,observing the monster hovering in a circular motion before alighting on the wall light above OD's bed.I grabbed the very useful hotel information directory(which obviously I had previously read from cover to cover including the very important fire evacuation procedure....)I swatted the critter with a force previously unseen.It dropped to OD's bed and took refuge in the pillow case.

I flung the pillow into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

OD tentatively re-entered the bedroom.

'Its your turn' I say'Its trapped in the pillow slip-go in there and whack it with the hotel directory'.

OD retired back outside leaving me with no choice other than to re enter the bathroom .The force with which I tackled that pillow was phenomenal.Norman Bates( EE EE EE EE) didn't have a look in..

Flushed with success I exited the bathroom and beckoned OD's return.

'NOW its your turn.Dispose of it down't loo please...'

Several flushes later and the creature refused to die,still swimming determinedly but unable to get airborne.

'Cover it with loo roll and close the lid'  I say 'just in case it escapes.'

Finally.'Its gone;' shouts OD triumphantly.

Thanks to the mobile I pad which Chef had kindly provided me with, we were able to identify the intruder as a Carrion Beetle otherwise known as an UNDERTAKER BEETLE due to its habit of capturing and burying small mammals then subsequently making itself a cosy nest inside...

OD was inconsolable.'What if there's a nest of them under my bed??

'Don't be ridiculous' I say(convincingly)..then stayed up all night keeping vigil whilst reading ODs current book of choice..

OD slept like a log.

Next morning,propping my eyelids up with matchsticks I encouragingly advised OD there was nothing like a good Scottish Breakfast...

Microwaved bacon.

How wrong I was.

Microwaved bacon.A plastic wrinkled sausage which had clearly been flung in the deep fat fryer ,eggs as rubbery as the wellies we needed to make the hasty foray to the pick up.And self help toast via the automatic machine which provided the most entertainment of our stay due to burning every slice.

Sigh.

I was asked if everything was OK as we checked out.
We never complain.
Didn't you mention the smell of gas in the bedroom corridor?...enquired OD.

Now here's the thing.

This place has an AA rosette for food.What does that mean??
We wondered how long it had been since the AA Inspector had chanced by.
Continuing with our journey.

Palm tree in the rain

Further heavy rain

Next day there was a break in the clouds.

Spot the deer

If you look closely you can spy two deer in the above photo.

Perfect light for artists methinks

Stunning scenery

Seriously,autumn is the best time to visit Scotland, gold and garnet across the landscape, dramatic weather and stunning scenery.

On my return an email popped into my in box from the hotel we'd visited.

Asking for feedback on our stay.

I replied very politely that the room and the staff were very good,but the experience as a whole was let down by the standard of the food(I even e-mailed the photo of the bacon).

To date no reply.

Perhaps they were only looking for positive comments.

Sigh.

OD remains convinced the Chef had been locked in the walk in freezer and the waiting staff had forgotten to let him out....

Pub landlady saves difficult diner from nasty fall,sustaining superficial injury and some positive feedback.

A combination of new staff,guilt that I may have neglected her of late and a feast of bookings has resulted in me spending more time back at the Inn this week.
Saturday evening brought the usual crowd of diners,most very pleasant,amidst whom there was the usual louder than anyone else,attention seeking individual,effortlessly exuding a sense of smug entitlement and in possession of an overbearing self congratulatory manner. The sort of individual who demands obsequious service and gets right up the noses of all staff who come into contact with him.
Endless searching questions designed to catch one out whilst at the same time demonstrating his encompassing knowledge of wines and all things culinary.
You've met him haven't you.Or perhaps you've sat at the table next to him.Speaking in a loud booming voice just to make sure that the whole room is party to his conversation.Then when he makes (in his opinion) a particularly amusing comment he smiles and nods at all around him,basking in the glory.
I first noticed him swinging back on his chair,arms hitched over the back rest before I even took the order.
As things began to hot up,the lady at the next table decided to ditch her cardigan,as she did so the books atop the newspaper rack sited on the wall directly behind her table were inadvertently displaced.
They fell to the floor with a such a ear shattering clatter  that Foghorn Leghorns dialogue was momentarily drowned out..
Irritated that the commotion had diverted attention from Himself,Leghorn looked over at these most unassuming of diners and just as their main courses were delivered to their table,snorted and shouted loudly:
'Well that's got to be embarrassing for you,trying to wreck the joint,eh??'
The poor woman's deep scarlet complexion could not I'm afraid, on this occasion, be attributed to her wine intake.Sadly her head was kept compliantly down for the remainder of the meal.
Leghorn continued to swing back on his chair,his full and not insignificant bodyweight supported by two legs.
 As I delivered starters to the table next to the fire,sited directly behind him,disaster struck. I was met by the unmistakable sound of splintering wood,as the chair buckled under the sustained pressure.In a knee jerk reaction,I held game terrine and soup(!) directly above my head whilst my right leg splayed outwards,propping the lower half of Leghorns chair,which had detached itself from the seat, upright.The upshot of this being that the seat of the chair flipped upwards, deckchair style with Leghorns bottom wedged firmly in the collapse.Being on the XXL side of Large, Leghorn was well and truly trapped, knees nearer to his chest than I'm sure they had been in many a year.
Well.
I think that's called Karma.
Two of his companions(now there's a word you never see used in general conversation,other than in restaurant reviews)were obliged to unceremoniously manhandle him  from the wreckage.
Reader,I must confess I may have held my leg firmly in the wedge position a little longer than was absolutely necessary,at least long enough that the pleasant couple who had earlier experienced the unfortunate book incident and its aftermath,had the chance to enjoy the whole sorry spectacle.

Unsuitable swing exhibiting impact damage

How the mighty have fallen.
Almost worth the impressive bruise injury which I'm currently sporting.

Colourful bruise injury

And finally.
How can one justify an unashamed toot of ones own trumpet?
Given the spate of complaints letters received recently and which to be fair I've publicised in unadulterated form on here,I propose that I am permitted nay entitled to redress the balance a little,in the interests of providing an alternative(and unbiased..?) view point.
Yesterday the following letter appeared in our local paper.A regular alerted Chef via text message in the early afternoon.
I quote:
'Statistics show that 60 pubs a week close down in Great Britain.There are many reasons for this shocking state of affairs-poor service,no welcome,expensive frozen food,overpriced liquid and lack of ambience and atmosphere just to name a few.
Just recently whilst travelling to (insert next county) we decided to stop at the (insert pub name).We walked into a real pub with a lovely atmosphere and a great welcome.
We had a gorgeous home made meal at a fair price.On looking around this lovely hostelry,we found out that all produce was locally sourced.
We were delighted at this because the(insert pub name)is helping to support the local economy and give us value for money excellent food.
This pub has certainly got the wow factor and it makes you feel you want to go back again.We definitely shall go back.'

charming positive feedback

As Chef said we couldn't have composed a more complimentary endorsement had we penned it ourselves.

Ah well,onwards and upwards!

A Bientot!
Mags x

Whatever you do don't dip your Cock-a-leekie in orange,it hurts.

I've been incommunicado.
To say things have been a tad fraught is an understatement.
The times they are a changing.
In a radical U-turn,having decided that perhaps a career in hospitality might suit her after all(though not working for ones parents, apparently..),I deposited Only Daughter  a la Tartan Isle last week.She's been brushing up on her Polish with the thoughtful phrase book which Chef kindly tucked into her back pack as a leaving gift..
The Apprentice made a safe return from his long planned trip.Having blown six months wages on a five day extravaganza in the Big Apple during which he dined on Hanger steak and was wowed by the service at Brasserie les Halles(yes, he's been reading Anthony Bourdain),visited the Museum of Modern Art(his first love),ate numerous bagels and hot dogs,and attended Rock the Bells.Quite a change from last years modest sojourn.
And the highlight of the trip?? I quote: 'skateboarding the length of Fifth Avenue in and out of the traffic..'
Sigh.He's always been,well.Different...
Ones fingers were chewed to the quick of ones elbow for the full five days..
So,that's the terrible twins taken care of.
The Sensible One has returned to uni to continue his Food Technology course,having decided after a summer spent behind the bar and in the kitchen,that perhaps he would be well advised to give the practical side of the food industry a wide berth.Maybe a career in Food Journalism or Food Development.
At least one of us has some sense..
Back at the ranch things are uncharacteristically quiet.
Its business as usual of course.
Down at the pub we've been talking autumn foods,game,stews and hearty puds.My favourite time of year.
Last week Pubchef knocked up a hearty soup.
Prior to writing the days menu,I enquired as to the nature of the days soup.
'Cock-a-Leekie' responds Pubchef.
As an afterthought I strolled over to the steaming stock pot and peered inside.

Self: 'That's not Cock-a-Leekie soup'
Pubchef:'Yes it is,in a round about way..'
Self:'No it isn't.I can see plenty of Cock(!) but no bloody Leekie'
Pubchef:'Call it Cock-a-Leekie.it sounds better'
Self:'No it doesn't,it only sounds better if it is bloody Cock-a-Leekie'
Self:Is it a thin soup?'
Pubchef:'no not really'
Self:'I cant see any prunes in there..'
Pubchef:'People don't want  prunes'
Self:How do you know??If someone orders a Cock-a-Leekie soup,what they expect is a properly made Cock-a-Leekie soup,resplendent with leeks,prunes and plentiful Cock. Not some bloody imposter..'
Self:What's in the soup??
Pubchef:Lentils,vegetables,Cock chicken.
Self:(folding arms)So its not Cock-a-Leekie soup is it?What we have here m'lord is a Chicken and vegetable broth.
I rest my case, your honour.
Pubchef:You can't call it that,it doesn't sound very good.
Self:Why not??That's what it is..its not about how it sounds its about how it tastes..
We compromised on Chicken and Vegetable soup..
I made some fresh bread rolls to accompany,recipe from Shaun Hills Merchant House Cook book.As Shaun himself says 'perfect for tearing and sharing.'

Shaun Hills perfect baps

Helped out by the inclement weather, the Chicken and Vegetable Soup flew out.
A couple of days later the soup was almost gone.
Towards the end of a particularly busy lunchtime service Ems appeared in the kitchen and requested a quick bowl of soup for lunch.
'Great' said Pubchef 'that's the last gone'(every Chef loves it when any particular menu item gets used completely without discarding any,gives a welcome warm glow..)
I wandered over to the pan and absent mindedly tasted the last dregs of the soup.
I frowned.
'I can taste orange..'
Pubchef:(nonchalantly)'There is a bit of orange in there'
Self:'What????You put orange in a chicken and veg broth?'
Pubchef:'Well,not exactly orange,orange zest,just a bit'
Self:So all week hungry diners have been ordering a hearty Chicken and veg broth but what they've actually been troughing on a is a bowl of steaming but lumpy Lemsip???'

Clasping my hands to the top of my head,lest it explode like the pressure cooker it is,I bent over double from from the waist and stayed there momentarily whilst I gained some semblance of composure.
At that point,right on cue, Ems returned to the kitchen complete with empty soup bowl.

Ems:'Well,that was ...different'
Self:'In what way??'(Nodding overly enthusiastically..)
Ems:'Well it tasted of..oranges....'
Reader,you would have thought that we had rehearsed it.
I looked at Pubchef with raised eyebrows,palms upwards,shrugging shoulders and shaking ones head vigorously.

One is aware of exhibiting increasingly exaggerated Fawltyesque tendencies.

The Pub Landladys Greatest Hits...

I haven't done a meme style post before.
The lovely Elizabeth on Food (beautifully written,photographed and informative food site-go have a look)nominated me to take part in the My seven links project.
The idea is to provide links to 7 blog posts under the following categories, don’t over-think it, and pick five other bloggers to do the same: 

1. Your most beautiful post
2. Your most popular post
3. Your most controversial post
4. Your most helpful post
5. A post whose success surprised you
6. A post you feel didn’t get the attention it deserved
7. The post that you are most proud of

So here they are:
 The Pub landlady's greatest hits..

1.My most Beautiful post.
Hmm tricky.I specialise in dodgy mobile phone photos,if I'd had the balls courage to use a decent camera I'm sure My L'Enclume post would be the most beautiful,but I didn't so bearing the current trend for  foraging, instead I choose Look at the size of my Boletus,have you ever seen  better looking 'shroom?

2.My most popular post.
Ordering off menu
Not sure if this is the most popular or whether its had more views just because its been on here a while.Or are you lot ALL intrinsically awkward???

3.My most controversial post.
People Love bad food.
They do honestly,read this its irrefutable proof.

4.My most helpful post
Im a bit stuck on this one.Helpful?Can I find a helpful post??These questions are making me think my blog is a little bit one dimensional...
I know,how about this one,could be useful if you're looking to dodge a parking fine..worth a punt at least..

5.A post whose success surprised me.
Pub landlady cleans up soot damage left by Southern Comfort drinking coalman at Jamaica Inn
You cant beat a bit of toilet humour can you?


6.A post I feel didnt get the attention it deserved.
Chefs Nuts
Given the reaction to Chefs Ass,Im a tad disappointed,nay surprised that Chefs Nuts didn't solicit the same respect..


7.The post I am most proud of.
I wouldnt say proud was the word,its all just a bit of a larf innit?But I think Im going to choose Northcote Manor,simply because Nigel Haworth and Craig Bancroft both read it,took it in the spirit in which it was intended and actually THANKED me for writing it.I knew they had a sense of hunour.

So thats it The Pub landladys Greatest Hits/Misses.
So now over to these five far flung faves(no pressure BTW..):

O Cozinheiro este algarve

Hestias Larder

Legend in his own Lunchtime

Gin and Crumpets

How the hell does this work?

Conversation with a potential employee.

We're recruiting staff.September sees the departure of the summer workers off to university.
One of our girls has actually found a 'proper' job having worked for us since she was 15 right through university.Chef says its the end of an era.
I suppose therein lies the problem,most British workers still view hospitality work as a stopping off point en route to a permanent job,its a shame that its still not viewed by many as a career option.Though admittedly the long and unsocial hours aren't a great selling point.
I've trawled through a weird and wonderful array of CV's.
It struck me that perhaps some of the applicants could do with a few pointers on how to successfully apply for a job.
Obviously this is just my personal opinion of course.other potential employers may have different criteria.

1.Keep it brief
One or two pages max.Any CV longer than this goes straight in the bin.Its not that I'm not interested in you,you understand,its just that I DON'T HAVE TIME TO READ IT.

2.Check your spelling and grammar.

3.Keep the information relevant to the application,giving some indication that you have actually researched what the job is and what qualities are required.
For example I'm not really interested that you are 'qualified to use the St Tropez ultimate air system and have a level 2 certificate in Jessica manicures' or that you have '6 months small animal care experience',whilst the kitchen staff(and sometimes the customers for that matter)may sometimes act like animals,we are not recruiting a zoo keeper.

4.Include contact details(surprising how many don't),keep it sensible for example:if your email address is on the lines of 'pink iced buns@ mail.co.uk' its probably time to make a change,unless you're applying to a lap dancing club of course.

5.It may be a good idea not to be overly liberal with the truth if you want to give yourself a chance of even making the interview stage.For example 'I have had many jobs but as yet have never managed to hold down a full time job' or 'I have no relevant experience but am willing to give it a go and see if it works out' or even 'mostly I like to just sit at home,watch TV and relax,much like anyone else'....... does not exactly instil me with confidence in your enthusiasm or energy levels..

Today I rang one of the applicants I'd selected for interview.

Self:Hello I'm *me* from the Inn,I'm ringing with regard to your application for work.

Applicant:Ah yes.... the BAR JOB..

Self:Would you be able to pop over for a chat one afternoon next week?

Applicant:Should be OK,when were you thinking?

Self:Would Wednesday afternoon about 2.30 be OK?

Applicant:Make it a bit earlier?

Self:No I'm sorry I'm over at the pub every lunchtime so I'm only back at the inn between 2.30 and 5pm.

Applicant:How about Monday?

Self:No I cant do Monday

Applicant:Friday?

Self:No I'm sorry I'm very busy on Fridays I can only do Tuesday,Wednesday or Thursday.

Applicant:It shouldn't take long, I'm a medical student,taking a year out.

Self: Oh????I'm very sorry but I just cant spare any time on Friday

Applicant: Oh that doesn't work,that just doesn't work  for me AT ALL..

Self:Gulp

Applicant:Tell you what lets just leave it till the following week,Thursday afternoon,3pm, OK with you??

Self:...........................................................

And I thought there were over 2 million people unemployed in this country.

Where's my farking Brussels??

You know that thing about waiting forever for buses,then all of a sudden three arrive at once?Well,brace yourselves,we've had ANOTHER complaint.The following is an exact transcript of a letter which arrived this week.

Handwritten letter

[Yes,a great little pub.However after eating there for Sunday dinner we wont be going back,having invited friends making a party of seven and all having the Sunday Roast,we thought the order was wrong and that they gave us child portions;each plate consisted of 3 roast potatoes which could of been one cut into three,(excuse me, but you missed out the new potatoes)6 slices of carrot,2 peices of brocolli,some cabbage.Two slices of meat and one small yorkshire,the plate was not Big(its 12 inch actually)  but there was plenty of room(only were it to be piled vertiginously high) for the likes of,brussel sprouts,Turnip,parsnip,(in summer?whatever next..)cauliflour,MASHED potatoe and YES another yorkshire!!!(or maybe one of those giant stuffed ones?)for 9.50 it was a disgrace!!the food should have come in abundance(eh??) PTO

Insufficient Sunday roast displaying small Yorkshire

There was no mustard or Horse Raddish or anything for that matter,no hang on there was salt and peper(Oh you were looking for those little sachet things,the ones which you can help yourselves to and take some home for later..) we asked for some mustard.Two bowels arrived(surely not,I must apologise for that) spoon in each and with a blob of mustard stuck on the end (ouch)All for seven people,the three tables put together all AT Different levels and the creeking chairs "well" (now I know who you are, you're  Mr Winner aren't you?)no one ordered desert( I wish you had its farking freezing up here at the moment) we saw other diners with there's and for £5 so "forget it"!!

All this about localy sorced produce....

my wife cooks a better Dinner from Morisons (However the meat was nice)

Consolation nice beef.

(really??I would have thought you would have preferred your beef well done.) 

shame about the rest..."it could have been great"

PS I'm angry I didn't say anything when we were there.

PPS you will have seven people telling others the same.]

Squiggly illegible signature

(no address)

SIGH..I put it down to the weather,its dampened everyone's spirits..

Or maybe its time to bite the bullet and go all branded chain pub..

BEWARE:shiny tables,raw steaks and insufficient quiz sarnies.

Last week we entertained the mother of all complainers at the Inn.
News filtered back to the kitchen that  trouble was brewing long before the order was even taken.
Mr and Mrs Angry asked to be seated in the small garden room and were dismayed to see that two(the larger ones) of the three tables had already been reserved.
'Oh' said Mrs A 'I thought you couldn't reserved tables here?'
Sensing her disquiet it was suggested she might prefer an alternative table inside the pub.
'No, its too dark in there,we'll stay here'
To cut a long story short two lemonades and two steak sandwiches were ordered,then subsequently sent back to the kitchen as they were too rare.The steaks were redone(well done) sent again,eaten,then the bill was paid and they left.
Later that afternoon I received a very irate phone call from this lady remonstrating about her dining experience.
These were her main issues and my responses:

1.The table was too shiny and had obviously been polished with FURNITURE POLISH.This is a Health and Safety  issue and is very dangerous as drinks could 'slide off the table into peoples laps'.
The table is over 100 years old,an old Britannia bar table made in Sunderland and lovingly polished by a succession of landlords,resulting in the attractive deep mahogany patina.The table has supported many drinks over the years,very few of which have slid off by themselves.

Dangerously polished table exhibiting potential slip hazard.

2.The steak sandwich was raw and this is 'very bad practice as a pregnant woman might eat it'.
( Last time she came the steak sandwiches were lovely and were all cut up into little slices,about a year ago..)

All of our steaks are Eblex standard and are locally sourced from a small independent supplier, many of which come from his own farm.We could buy cheaper but prefer to support the local economy and enjoy a better quality product.We sell hundreds of these sandwiches,our standard is to serve them medium rare,unless diners specify otherwise.
As such they pose no health risk.
(we have been here 4 years and have NEVER 'cut the steaks up into small pieces' therefore it must be at least five years since she last visited)


3.The plate was cold.
The plate was cold as the sandwich is served with a salad accompaniment,were the plate hot ones salad would be limp and wilted, giving cause for complaint

4.The bread roll was cold.
The inside of the bread roll is toasted, the outside is not.That's just the standard, though if any diner were to request we toast both sides we would be happy to oblige.

5.There was no more than a teaspoon full of fried onions on the steak
The fried onions are not the main component of the sandwich and as such no valid complaint can be made over the quantity,the steak is 6oz as specified on the menu.Had more onions been requested then these would have been forthcoming.

6.There was a disabled person having difficulty negotiating the unsatisfactory access,with staff offering assistance otherwise she would have asked for a discount on the meal.
The Inn was built around 1740 and retains many original features.Being built into a hillside there are many levels and steps to negotiate which does not make access ideal for less able customers.Our staff always make this information available over the telephone for diners who check ahead,they always also offer assistance if necessary.As it happened this particular customer had been spoken to on the phone and was happy to deal with any difficulties he might experience.I was pleased the staff had been helping him.

7.She did not experience £19.40 worth of enjoyment.

This is a tricky one.How does one quantify in monetary terms enjoyment value?
To be perfectly honest we're in the business of selling steak sarnies,not enjoyment.Though admittedly, hopefully enjoyment would be a side product of the eating experience.
I've been giving this a lot of thought and am considering introducing an AA Gill type guide on our menus.
Its proving almost as complicated as the Duckworth-Lewis method,its so bloody subjective,I mean, enjoyment of a steak sandwich for a committed omnivore is on a completely different scale to that of committable vegan...
I've managed to come up with a potential rating system though:

*         (0-20 pounds sterling)  find a fiver in an old jacket pocket at the back of the wardrobe
**       (20-30 pounds sterling) drop the bandit
***     (30-50 pounds sterling)modest win on the premium bonds
****   (50-75 pounds sterling)unexpected windfall from an unknown relative
***** (100+ pounds sterling)100-1 outsider comes in on the geegees.

 I spent over half an hour on the telephone apologising that Mrs A hadn't enjoyed her dining experience and attempting to placate her, at the end of which she demanded a 'written response' otherwise she would report us to Environmental Health,and also Visit Northumbria as it was 'disgraceful that visitors to the area be subjected to our food'.(I was a bit bamboozled by this,does that mean its OK to subject local people to it??)
Now normally with any genuine compliant,I would offer a refund or in some cases a gift voucher.The tone of this telephone call however was confrontational and threatening.
Chef was of the opinion that we should not be intimidated by threats therefore we mulled our response over the weekend.
On the Monday morning we received a phone call from our local Environmental Health Officer advising us that they'd been contacted by Mrs A about the 'raw' steak.Chef was informed that Mrs A had been advised that there was 'no risk'.The lady from food services told him that they were obliged to inform the  food outlet when they receive a complaint,valid or no.The EHO commented to Chef that Mrs A was incredibly irate..
Next day a letter arrived by recorded delivery headed thus:

'Supply of Goods and Services Act 1983'
'I demand a refund within 7 days due to the goods being unsatisfactory'

The seven day period has expired.I wonder what the next move will be.Lets hope it doesnt make the local press..
Chef says she hasn't  a leg to stand on as shes consumed the evidence...
Is there any other business where customers can consume the goods then express dissatisfaction??I mean imagine if she purchased the very same steaks herself from the same butcher,rustled up a tasty tea for her and the hubby,then went back the next day and asked for a refund because the 'enjoyment value' wasnt attained??
Its just not going to happen is it?

Next day the sun was shining brightly,the garden was packed and our usual number of covers increased two fold.As a consequence Chef was up the wall, with fifteen checks on the board.Further diners continued to appear.We had to advise all new orders that there would be a wait for food of around 40 mins.
At this point a certain well known sports person tipped up and was duly advised of the wait.He enquired if there would be a similar wait if he had a couple of cold starters.
Of course there wouldn't be.
Presently, the cold starters were sent,following which an exceptionally angry lady loudly mouthed off that she had ordered first and we were offering preferential treatment just because he was famous,and it was an absolute disgrace.She was sitting on the table directly next to sports person who obviously took everything in without comment.We all cringed in unison.
Now, well known sports person pays us a visit every week and on two occasions over the past couple of months has been turned away as we haven't had a table for him.On his intial first visit a couple of years ago he also went away empty handed when the particular barman working became starstruck and was momentarily superglued to the floor and unable to move.I was quite annoyed at the time.So actually Im surpised he returns at all,especially with no grudge borne.
Chef is very strong about everyone's money being the same.
It must be awful being famous.
By the way The barman is  now working in London as a photographer,I hope he's overcome his nervous disposition..

In other news, I helped out at the fortnightly quiz over at the pub last week.
We provide a few tasty treats for the quiz people,sandwiches and the ubiquitous triple cooked chips(though I'm loathe to call them so on the menu).
Anyhoo,I was approached at the bar by a brusque chap with a dozy looking Labrador(not the farting one).
'Are we getting sandwiches tonight??'
Self: 'Yes'
Chap 'Well,where are they???'
Self:'We'll be putting them out in the interval'
Chap(voice audibly raised in annoyance)'well,we're up to round five now'
At this point he raised his palms upward in Jesus type pose(but not a genuflecting one), eyebrows raised and gesturing in disgust.
I resisted the desire to sarcastically retort:
'Bless me Fadder fur oi haf sinned...'
He then approached the quiz master who compliantly called a break.
The coal man at the bar,a man of few words, smiled a knowing smile 'some of these lot don't come for the quiz,only for the sarnies...',then smirked and went back to his Southern Comfort and Lemonade.
The sarnies were duly despatched.I stepped aside and witnessed the stampede to the table with Rude Chap heading the pack.Twenty minutes later I noticed he was still grazing on a small personal buffet of sandwiches which he'd placed in the middle of his table.
As I cleared  the plates, Rude Chap anticipated my approach,picking up his plate and proferring it with arms stretched over his head in a flag like manner with his back to me..
Dear Reader,you must know that I walked away and left him sitting there with the plate in mid air..
He was first to leave, almost before the quiz was over,his parting shot a brief:
'there weren't enough sandwiches tonight'
This is fundamentally wrong.How can there not be enough sandwiches when they're bleeping free??????
Complimentary sarnies are a privilege, not a right and as such may be withdrawn by the management at any time.

Next week I plan to vary the offering by providing a small bowl of olives and a ramekin of plain crisps(preferably past their best before date)....

Its the least I can do.

PS.Our steak sarnies are the Biz.

Biff and Chef Eat Owt/L'Enclume

We've had a little break away. Effecting an even brief escape from the business requires careful planning,organisation and team work.
Having selected and ironed some suitable clothing, I delegated Chef to retrieve the travel bags and insert said items, prior to departing for Sunday lunch service at the pub.The plan was to make as early a departure as possible after lunch service was over at both pubs.
On my arrival back at the Inn Chef was itching to go,informing me that the bags were packed as promised and stored safely in the pick up.
We headed off immediately.
Forty minutes later we were joining the M6.

Self:You found the overnight bags OK then?
Chef:No I didn't bother,I didn't think it was worth trawling around the attic for the sake of one night,I just used some carrier bags.
Self:What??You mean you packed our *stuff* in flimsy Tesco carrier bags??
Chef:No of course not..
Self:Thank God for that..
Chef:I used Waitrose Bags for Life...
Well isn't that just great..
I wondered if there'd be anyone else staying at L'Enclume in a pick up and with no suitcase...

Cartmel is a quaint little village which we were quite fond of by the time we'd driven around it four times in search of our lodgings.Someone was relying on I pad/phone directions but hadn't factored *no network* into the equation.

We weren't staying at the Gift Shop BTW

Finally we noticed this unobtrusive little sign which helped us on our way.

Lets not draw attention to ourselves

I needn't have worried,Chef managed to find a discreet parking position for the pick up..

We were greeted warmly and asked if we needed help with our luggage.
(Sharp intake of breath..)

'No thanks' said Chef 'we'll just go straight to our room..'
(Audible sigh of relief..)

We made ourselves comfortable, then Chef nipped out for our *shopping* once the coast was clear..

We'd already identified this place as perfect for pre dinner snifters on our earlier extended tour of the village.

Perfect watering hole within walking distance

Notice the dark red FWD vehicle.Every 5 minutes the alarm was going off resulting in a chorus of 'ahhhs' from the outside drinkers.Amusingly, we could still hear this disturbance back at the restaurant 40 minutes later.Sounded like a TV audience in training.

I don't carry a handbag BTW

One Bombay Sapphire and  Fevertree tonic for me and Chefs requisite fizz of choice later and all earlier stresses were long forgotten.
It was a beautiful night,and more delightful pubs tempting us to seek them out, but we arrived politely on time for dinner.
We were offered white or pink Champagne.I chose pink.

We both had white.The duck scratchings and cheesey prawn crackers more than made up for it.
Chef wondered if we could ask for more.
We're not a the local Chinese, I say.
He did however enquire if he was 'allowed' to smoke in the garden.A pristine ashtray appeared forthwith.The Sommelier advised with a knowing wink that he would leave it there.
I didn't notice anyone else having a fag.
We opted for the twelve course tasting menu which they had kindly agreed to adapt to cater for our awful dietary requirements.We asked the sommelier to bring us some glasses of wine to match the meal.
By the way I forgot to mention,I loved this place before we even arrived after receiving a confirmation e mail containing the following beautiful prose:

'Monsieur shall be eating no fish nor shellfish and Madame being coeliac'

Made our conditions seem positively attractive.Well nearly..

Bullets

Firstly an amuse bouche.As the plate was put down the waitress looked momentarily confused 'bear with me one moment' before another member of staff came over and carefully swivelled the plate around until the smoked eel croquette was conveniently close to myself and Chefs vegetable one now correctly positioned next to him.
Despite the shape I'm sure they were intended for oral insertion.

'I wonder if Ill get through this one alive' said Chef....
Delicious.

Look what's in Simon's sack tonight!

Waverex Peas with crab and calamint.Or in Chefs case no crab. Apparently the teeniest and sweetest peas.I love spider crab.I grow a lot of mints, but never calamint.Must get some.

As we chatted I noticed a couple we'd seen earlier at the pub.I drew Chefs attention,they were just out of his line of vision.I described the chaps camel suit.
'Oh the chap with the grease spot in the centre back of his  jacket' said Chef.
'Yes that's the one!'
We always make the same observations..

Pickled purple Azur,crushed flesh,sour cream and golden cups.

This picture doesn't bely the taste explosion that it actually was.Its a Kohlrabi, often grown for cattle feed.What a waste..

Chefs bread

Gluten free bread

Special mention for going to the trouble of making my bread,it contained pumpkin seeds,it was as good as the real thing. I've e mailed them to ask for the recipe*hopeful face*

Chef clocked a Frankie Valli look alike seated at a table nearby.Dressed completely in white including,suit,shirt and slip on shoes with NO SOCKS.

His companion was partially hidden by the alcove in which they were seated.We got a clear view when she got up minutes later en route to the loo.Chefs' mouth fell open.'Internet order?' 'Its good to see true love knows no boundaries..'
Mr Valli was sporting an ill fitting *toop*
'That'll be stuck to the ceiling later'quipped Chef..
As I glanced down to check out our own chosen foot attire,I warmed momentarily to Chefs' muddy(I forgot to pack my good shoes)Merrells.

Celtuce heart in beef broth,fresh cheese,mussel dust.

I thought they were trying to confuse us with this one,but it is a type of lettuce with a celery type stalk,exactly as the name implies.The beef broth was intense and satisfying.Chef asked if it would be OK to dip his bread in.

I was only buttering my bread...

Beware of large bowls and dainty cutlery.Do not,I repeat do not leave go of them at any time unless you are finished your meal...

Snow balls cooked in clay,smoked egg,lettuce, fermented apple.

One of Chefs faves.I can see why this earthy style of crockery was chosen(very 70s/80s)but I had to ask Chef not to scrape his cutlery as I was squirming, it had the effect of nails down a blackboard.

Ancient tubers,ground unicorn horn,misted with faerie breath.

This dish was beautiful,despite the presentation the flavours in the food are indeed the real attraction.
'That's how a potato should taste'said Chef.

Minidor yellow with duck sweetbread,corn cream summer savory

Hats off to the unfortunate kitchen slave tasked to harvest these little blighters.Not exactly a high yield to the duck..

Thankless task

Charcoal grilled varna leek,scallop,red orache and nasturtium butter

Though ploughing admirably through the lovely(and surprisingly reasonable priced) wine selection,b'now Chef was a tad thirsty and fancied a refreshing beer.The waitress kindly brought us the drinks menu.No lager.Only Pale ales.

'Maybe they're short of fridge space' I say..

Modest refrigeration facilities

Chef could barely conceal his disappointment at the lack of his favoured beverage.'I don't think they like that matching' I say.

'But its all about personal choice' said Chef.

Radish stew with coastal greens and summer leaves,hay cream

As we were eating this I observed a disturbance at the next table.'I just cant eat this I just don't like the flavour.I just don't like it AT ALL'

I overheard the waitress very politely offering a supplemental course.

'That's ridiculous' said chef 'its unrealistic to expect that out of twelve courses you'll  like absolutely everything.'

We did...

Salt baked hake,kale greens,bay shrimp,cherry belle

Cherry belle is the radish, don't make the mistake of trying to politely cut this up as the diner on the next table did,unless you wish to retrieve from the floor.I recommend consuming whole.

Yew tree Herdwick Hogget,turnips,cider and chenopodiums

This was the course the diner at the other table didn't like.The hogget was fantastic.The sauce was quite sharp.Chef said the flavour was verging on the taste you get when you reduce a stock too far and get that burnt bones taste.

They couldn't have burnt the bones,could they?Nah..

I liked the waiters description 'its not a lamb and its not a sheep' Hehe.

What is it then?A goat?
As we tucked in, a diner from the garden room area passed by en route to the ladies room. Applying Fake Bake in a darkened room is an ill advised decision.

'Herdwick mutton?' said Chef..

Supplemental course:CHEESE

This is where things went wrong.The cheese on the right smelled and tasted remarkably like cauliflower.Thankfully I like cauli.

Supplemental cheese led to:

Bad idea..

Supplemental port.

And a reluctance to continue with three more remaining courses.Instead we asked our very accommodating waitress to choose just one.

Untypically good quality  photo

Compressed strawberries and crispy sheet, sheeps milk and sorrel.Served on a lovely smooth plate.
Did I mention I treated myself to the promised new camera?

During our meal there was a couple sitting nearby who flashed(camera flash obvs) their way through the entire meal.I found it a bit  disturbing.I think I'm going to stick with the unflatteringly taken surreptitious phone photos.Its more me.I waited until there was no chance of upsetting anyone before snapping these.

Lavender milk and cupcakes

And coffee in view of the actual anvil.So good I drank the whole pot and was up at 5.30am.

Perhaps we did outstay our welcome

Chef was on a roll.'Are the pubs still open?' he enquired ..

This has gone on a bit hasn't it, I'm boring you.Shall I just cut to the chase?
Simon Rogan is a very clever Chef.Our two favourite dishes contained neither meat nor fish protein.
Chef said the cooking was at another level.Definitely 'exceptional cuisine,worth a special journey'

On my return to work I described to Pubchef ,in glowing detail, the wonders of our gastronomic experience.
Then this:

Knickerbocker glory with foraged beer garden viola.

Its just not happening is it....? Sigh.

PS the potato dish:Heritage potatoes in onion ashes,lovage and wood sorrel.