WARNING:CONSUMPTION OF ALCOHOL MAY RESULT IN A CONDITION KNOWN AS THE HANGOVER

Brace yourselves please for possibly the most outrageous complaint to date.
I was just congratulating myself on the resounding success of the previous nights seasonal festivities when I answered a very unusual call.

'May I speak to the manager please?'
'Speaking..'
'Oh hello,I wanted to talk to you as Im concerned about the levels of salt in your food..'
'Really?'
'Yes,we were in last night'
'What was the problem?'
'Well,we were a party of four,with all of us living in the same house and we've all had a raging thirst,in fact the tap was going ALL NIGHT..'
'Oh... did the food taste salty?'
'No it didn't taste salty at the time,in fact we all had a lovely meal'
'............!'
'Yes.. the levels of salt must have been exceptionally high for us all to suffer the same after effects,though the meal was lovely we're just a little concerned that an old person or perhaps even a child might eat the food and that it could be quite dangerous to them..'
'Um..eh?...'
'Perhaps I could leave my number so that your chef could give me a call and I can explain my concerns to him so that he understands how dangerous high levels of salt can be to vulnerable people?'
'.........?'
Initially, it crossed my mind that this might in fact have been a hoax call,but as the conversation developed it became patently obvious that the caller was deadly serious.
As I put down the phone I was already reaching for last nights spiked orders to see what the table had eaten.
Here goes:
3 x Bombay and tonic
1 x Pinot Grigio (large)
1 x bottle Sauv Blanc
3 x Goats cheese and beetroot salads,rocket and hazelnut pesto
1 x smoked salmon
1 x Bottle Careener
3 x Lentil and root vegetable shepherds pies
1 x pheasant with braised red cabbage
3 x creme brûlées
1 x sticky toffee pudding
3 x americanos
3 x large mulled wines
1 dbl Talisker

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
It wouldn't be all that alcohol that dehydrated the feckers would it?

WATER..WATER..

Lets just remind ourselves that as a pub one of our primary purposes is the sale of alcoholic beverage,strange though this may seem,over indulgence may unfortunately at times result in a condition known as The Hangover.
The presence of a Hangover might indeed signify that we have perhaps fulfilled our business aim.
Chef mumbled something on the lines of 'well there's another disclaimer we'll be forced to add to the menus,'the consumption of alcohol may result in dehydration which may be harmful to vulnerable groups..'
Christ All flaming Mighty.I wonder if we're the first pub to receive a complaint like this?.

I related the story with glee to The Cynical One when she arrived for lunchtime service.
'Didn't I tell I told you that lot were 'special'? Three vegetarians on one table is just not normal..'
We were still sniggering about it as we opened the door at midday.
With Turkeymageddon into its last few days the mood was jovial,I think we finally had the Christmas spirit.Just after opening a well heeled couple arrived,they'd already reserved a table and were promptly seated at a prime table next to the blackboard.
Pleasingly,the chap ordered our most expensive Rioja. As I released the cork from the  bottle and gave it a discreet sniff to check quality I earwigged his lady companion comment flatly 'oh you've ordered red wine...'
Now, not wanting to give the blighters the chance to change their minds about the wine after I'd opened it I ignored the sentiment and poured Sir a little taster into his glass.
At this point he responded:
'But you told me to order this..'
'No..what I said was you know what I like'
'Yes you like Rioja...thats why I ordered it..'
'No I like Rioja in the evening,I like white wine at lunchtime,never a red... red wine is for evening,white wine is for lunchtime..'
She was speaking to him in the way a primary school teacher might address her class.I felt a bit sorry for him but admittedly,not sorry enough to offer to take back the already opened aforementioned expensive bottle of red.I ploughed on,ignoring the domestic as best I could and topping up his glass generously,then proffering the bottle to the lady.She didn't stop me as I poured out a further generous serving.
Rounding off the meal with two Irish coffees made correctly of course, with a double measure of Jamesons in each I was mildly impressed  and pleased with the level of midweek lunchtime alcohol consumption/spend per head and all thoughts of the earlier complaint were far from my mind.
Both were in significantly improved spirits as they asked for the bill.Enquiring politely had they enjoyed their meal I was amused to discover they were in fact the previously reported Special Cheese Sarnie couple.
'We came here in the summer and sat in the garden,the atmosphere was awful-we felt we were seated at a roadside cafe but our friends encouraged us to come back and try you again.We must congratulate you on a most enjoyable experience,both the ambience and the food are much improved..well done..well done!!'
I fed back to Chef congratulating him on changing peoples perceptions due to his much improved food offering.
It would be fair to say there was a dearth of Christmas cheer evident within the confines of the kitchen environment on receipt of this particular snippet of information..
We had ourselves a break of sorts over the actual Christmas period,opening for drinks only on Christmas Day,though admittedly Chefs' mobile was permanently glued to his ear with the influx of Festive cooking queries.. The traditional hour and a half free for all on Christmas Day lunchtime resulted in a record number of champagne bottles being emptied in the give away and much jollity ensuing.Chef agreed it was a good thing to do despite the significant hole made in the previous weeks' profits.
Yesterday we resumed food service.
Within minutes of opening the doors we were engulfed in a tsunami of diners no doubt desperately seeking refuge from the seventeen pound turkeys they'd all ordered for Christmas day despite being parties of two and three.Theres only a limited timespan before 100 Ways with Turkey becomes a bit trying.
I manned the bar in an effort to keep track of what order needed to be taken next and to direct diners to available tables,of which there were few.
In the midst of the mayhem a larger lady(a bit of a Hyacinth Bucket lookalike)approached the bar.
'What drinks do you have?' she enquired brusquely.
I glanced briefly behind me at the small but fully stocked bar designed to sate the thirst of even the most discerning of Christmas drinkers.
'What would you like?'
'I just want an ordinary drink'
What would one deem an ordinary drink?Methinks I need a clue.
'Would you like something alcoholic or non alcoholic?'
'Just something ordinary'
In the absence of any hint or direction I decided to take the soft drink route which was a shame as a bit of alcohol might have loosened her up a bit..
'How about a fruit juice or one of the Fentimans range?'
By now the tidal wave of customers was backing up towards the door,I struggled to keep patience as her beady eyes scanned the back bar and fridge for inspiration.
She repeated 'I just want an ordinary drink'
I grabbed a glass,lemonade you cant get much more ordinary than that.I was already reaching for the drinks gun as I suggested the lemonade.
'No not lemonade,nothing lemony or limey like that'
The daughter standing two paces behind mouthed the word 'sorry'.She had that despondent look of a daughter well used to a lifetime of similar tedium.
The backlog stretching from the bar to the door now resembled a large seething human sausage with an outer casing of children,handbags and the odd walking stick.
In desperation I committed the ultimate crime in the Good Publicans Handbook. I suggested she have a glass of water.I offered to serve her a drink which wouldn't actually cost her anything.Lets be frank you cant get much more ordinary than tap.
Then this:
'Ill have a bitter lemon.No ice or lemon.'
In her defence I suppose Bitter Lemon probably doesn't contain much actual lemon,radioactive in appearance and taste,it suited her well.
Finally they moved away from the bar.
The Cynical One had been stoically managing the floor but had come behind the bar to help with drinks due to the delay.
'Biff can you see if theres room for four in the dining room? I think theres a table just left.'
I quickly wiped down the just vacated table and noticing there were only three seats approached an adjacent table with what I thought was a spare chair politely enquiring if said chair was taken.
'Yes, it is ..yes'
One of her two gentlemen companions looked a tad puzzled,the three of them watched me hurriedly struggle to remove a booster seat from the only spare chair I could find and place it at the table.
I returned to the bar with the news the table was ready.
By now the four were seated in front of the bar.
The Cynical One advised that if they preferred they could remain where they were but no they wanted to sit at the bar for drinks then go to their table in the dining room to order.In effect taking up two tables.
Now.Normal service involves seating diners at tables then taking food orders in a controlled fashion.Due to the  fact that we were heaving, unfortunately for a brief period it seemed that the rules of battle were redefined and God forbid, the customers seemed to have gained the upper hand,placing orders at the bar at will.
The kitchen was in its own private meltdown,a simmering cauldron of unbridled tension,peppery fumes and drowning in a sea of chunky chips.The number of checks on the board was in keeping with levels normally only seen on sunny Bank Holiday Mondays.At these times there is no banter to be had in the kitchen,no craic from Chef lest his thought pattern is disturbed.
But I had to speak.
'Table 2 have ordered starters now,but will be ordering main courses after two more people join them(7 in total ),Ive already explained that if they do that there will be a long gap between their starters and main courses arriving due to the number of orders continuing to be come on and the fact that you haven't put their mains on'
I didn't expect a response.
'What manner of hitherto unseen fuckwittery is this??They're having a larf aren't they?'
Chef has a way with words.
The fuckwittery continued with the revelation that the table in the dining room which had previously prevented me from taking a chair from their table had in fact reserved the chair to accommodate...THEIR COATS...
This is also a new phenomena,people reserving seats for random personal effects,bags,coats and other associated paraphernalia, which they care about so much that they generally leave it  behind anyway. And pleease don't get me onto those new fangled baby chariots either,the ones more reminiscent of a Massey Ferguson tractor with inflatable wheels to match? Clearly not designed for convenience or for that matter,accommodation within a small Eighteenth century building.'We'll need space for a pushchair please' What they actually need is a small industrial unit..Whatever happened to the good old Maclaren candy striped buggy??
*Breathe*
Are you wondering what happened with the table of four who wanted to be seated in the dining room?
Stay with me.
We'd forgotten about them.
So they'd sat at the bar viewing the pandemonium and watching other diners randomly place orders at the bar and said nothing.
As the tide turned and we began to take control I noticed them still sitting there.They weren't smiling.The Cynical One went over and asked if they were ready to order.
The woman was seething.

'How can I be ready to order??I haven't seen a menu yet..'
Oh dear.
'Well' said the Cynical One 'as I mentioned to you earlier when I first asked if you would like to order,our menus are all on blackboards(much air stewardess like gesturing),so Ill just give you a few more minutes to decide'
We glanced at each other knowingly.She had been told 40 minutes earlier where the menus were.
'This is disgraceful,you've just left us sitting here with no menus and I've got two hungry teenagers here who haven't eaten breakfast..the service in here is terrible...'

They got up and left.The husband was apologetic as he paid the drinks bill..'I can see you're really busy..'
Which actually is no excuse for bad service.
Now,Im well versed in the eating habits of your average teenager,who lets be honest is a bottomless pit of unrequited hunger and constant fridge grazing.The Sensible One had already incurred Chefs wrath that very morning by frying up his own personal sausage fest consisting of a whole packet (eight)of gourmet examples ambitiously encased in two large baps.
'The greedy bastard ate the whole effing lot' said Chef..
The point is, at least he sorted himself out.

So.In addition to being expected to know what an 'ordinary' drink is we are now to be held responsible for the the fact that your teenage son hasn't had the foresight to  cook his own breakfast of a morning.
I politely asked the Cynical One if she would mind watching the bar briefly whilst I went to slit my wrists..

So, only New Years Eve to worry about before we resume normal service.Thank God.The firework expenditure has again gone through the roof with the purchases cheerily described as being 'one step away from being classed as munitions' The sky above *small market town* will again be lit up like Beirut on a summer evening.
On a serious note,worryingly Chef and his firework buddy have jokingly expressed a desire to drive around the green setting off the fireworks from the back of the pick up thus creating the first mobile display.Oh and this year he'll be taking the blow torch from the kitchen along 'as the taper kept blowing out in last years high winds ..'
I think I'll be observing from a safe distance..

Three Angry Chefs,two farmed pheasants and a Jews Ear in an elder tree.

Last week someone got a piece of shot in their pheasant.
I could see him grimacing shortly after the meal was delivered.He caught my eye and impatiently gestured me over with a quick raise of his eyebrows and commanding jut of his chin.

'Is everything ok?' I say
'No.There's a piece of lead shot in my pheasant.'
'Oh I'm sorry about that but I'm afraid it does happen sometimes'
I didn't really take the complaint that seriously at this stage, I thought it was merely a comment,perhaps even a testament to the integrity of the meal.
'But I've nearly smashed my tooth!'
This is a tricky one,how does one 'nearly' smash a tooth?
'Is your tooth smashed?' I enquired
'Well, no but that's not the point,the point is you should be stating on your menu that the pheasant isn't FARMED!!!'
This threw me a bit.The only farmed pheasants I've heard of are the ones that are bred to be released into the wild for the sole purpose of being,guess what?Shot.
I stood there momentarily flummoxed and unable to come up with a suitable response.
'Well? Im not very happy,Im not happy at all'
He had removed the perfectly shaped piece of shot from his mouth and had it sitting on the napkin in front of him.
'Would you like something else instead?'I asked sadly.
'No,Id like to finish eating my pheasant.'
Que??
'Well just to let you know I cant guarantee that there won't be another piece of shot in there'
I moved away from the table and tried not to visibly wince as every mouthful of food was shovelled in.
As he ate his free hand furiously tapped his iphone no doubt googling Food Standards agency or worse still the dreaded T*atadvisor.
His pleasant companion who was also troughing on the pheasant was overheard to say 'Well,Its not the end of the world is it?'
As I went over to clear the plates(which were completely empty),and attempted to to pick up the napkin containing the offending piece of shot,a large hand came down firmly over mine.
'Leave that where it is-Im keeping it..'
No doubt as evidence,I await the inevitable 'shot' appearing on TA.
When the story was later related to the kitchen Chef sighed.'What the fark does he expect me to do? Shoot them down with a bow and arrow or better still chase through the countryside and suffocate them??.Some people just don't deserve nice things...'

Run Forrest...run!!!

There followed prolonged muttering that it was a shame it wasn't mallard or teal containing steel shot which might in fact have resulted in actual rather than feigned dental damage.
The theme of conversation rumbled on over lunchtime until the butcher arrived.
He too was in similar fettle having received a letter that morning from Food Services informing him of the latest directive that butchers in his retail outlet must change their coats in between serving raw and cooked meats.Can you imagine the practicalities in implementing this in a small rural shop with limited resources?Ok for Tesco with separate servers for raw and cooked,but imagine the queue in the butchers if you have to wait for them to get changed every time they serve someone?Just another nail in the coffin for the independent retailer.
The mood lightened somewhat with the arrival of news that Chefs best mate had bought his wife a steam mop for Christmas.As a surprise.
'Lets hope she's bought him a pair of armour plated undercrackers' said Chef..'I know exactly where that will be inserted..
Later that night we caught  up with Masterchef. One of the contestants was cooking a venison dish accompanied by 'jelly ears'.Chef frowned and looked over at me.
'That's a Jews Ear,WTF are they calling them Jelly Ears for??'
'Its probably not politically correct'I say with a sigh.
'Why not?There's nothing offensive about it.'
(Other than the fact that they actually have the texture and taste of an ear)
Jews Ear were first known as Judas Iscariots Ear,later shortened to Judas' Ear,then evolving to Jews Ear.The origin being that the man himself allegedly hung himself on an elder tree and with these particular ear like fungi later found growing on the base of Elder trees the name was coined.This is quite an interesting little anecdote typical of the many historical and obscure facts which make up the personality and indeed the multi faceted heritage of life in general.What a shame they weren't allowed to share this on national telly.
Chef flicked channels in frustration.Just in time to catch the latest M & S Christmas food advert which actually looked fairly appealing until the sight of two lovely flutes being topped up with champagne filled the screen then spoilt the moment with the caption beneath ordering: 'over 18's only'.
'Bloody Hell' said Chef 'That's ridiculous.Before long we'll all be institutionalised, sitting munching on our farmed pheasant,probably puréed in case we choke ourselves,and ordering from generically written menus with numerous disclaimers at the bottom, the final caveat stating:
'NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED DURING THE COOKING OF THIS FOOD'


I think we need to get over ourselves don't we?

Pub landlady runs amok on Tripadvisor

A while back I did something really bad.I thought I'd gotten away with it until yesterday lunchtime.
You see,I was provoked into registering and responding to a customer review on Tripadvisor.
Getting drawn into an emotional exchange on a public forum is something to be avoided at all costs.
In my opinion,responding to a review on TA can never result in a positive outcome,all it does is draw attention to the complaint.The best approach is surely to give the whole thing a wide berth thus avoiding giving any credence whatsoever to the validity of the site and the unreasonable motivations which usually precede a bad review.Yes,best let the reader draw their own conclusions,adding your own ha'pence worth can only cloud the original issue.Anyway the last thing you want to do is give the impression that you actually give a fark about what people think who actually go on there.
Unless its a positive review of course...
Anyway,Id read the review which was imaginatively entitled  'not good at all',which kind of gives away the tone and content of the feedback.I was able to work out who the couple were.They'd tipped up on a Sunday lunchtime without a booking.Which is fine,but if you don't ring ahead to book a table the chances are you  might not be able to be accommodated,after all the world and his wife and their extended relatives all go out for Sunday lunch every week.As it happened we did have one table free,the only reason it was available is because we never book it out in advance given that its quite a 'snug' table and the chances are you wouldn't be happy if you had gone to the trouble of making a reservation and were squidged in the corner on this particular table.So,what we do is offer it to any 'walk in' who hasn't booked,after first explaining that we are fully booked but if they wanted to they could eat at 'this' table. The effect of this is that the customer themselves make the decision whether or not they want to sit there.People sit at it every week,surprisingly people often choose to sit there and are quite happy,grateful even, that we've quite literally 'squeezed' them in...
All of the above was explained to this couple but unfortunately they couldn't quite grasp the fact that they couldn't sit at the other empty tables due to them being reserved and diners arriving very soon to sit at them.After a few false starts at musical chairs,I tried explaining again,finally they begrudgingly sat down at the indicated table.Unfortunately this experience coloured the rest of their visit,ultimately resulting in the unfavourable review.

Initially I wanted to just respond with: 'I'm sorry,but as we explained on the day you were unable to sit at a table of your own choice due to the tables all being fully booked' I decided this might come across as a bit sarcy, so instead I composed a 'blah di blah di blah' crawling style response culminating in the stock line 'I'm very sorry you didn't enjoy your meal,had we known this at the time we would have endeavoured to offer an alternative'
This is where the response should have ended but unfortunately my fingers were itching and ran amok on their own,adding(before I could stop them) a caveat which unfortunately had the effect of making the entire response appear sarcastic and disingenuous'
This is what I wrote:
'PS I note you visited us on the 19th June,yet submitted your review on 11th June.Who are you??Marty McFly?.....'
Gulp.
I know,this is disgraceful behaviour..how very unprofessional.As soon as I'd clicked on the submit button I was wracked with regret.Though admittedly not enough that I went back and edited it..
I didn't bother telling Chef what Id been up to,not that he would have complained but I'm always telling him what's good and bad PR,especially when diners moan and his standard response is 'Just tell them to get out....' so I didn't really fancy a ribbing.
Anyway,this was months ago and by now there's been more reviews so the offending response is no longer on the front page,effectively its disappeared into the interlubes forever.Or so I thought.
Then,yesterday as I cleared some plates from a table a gentleman enquired 'Are you the owner?'
'Yes I am' I say 'was everything ok?'
'Yes lovely thank you,we had to come and see who was responsible for the Marty McFly comment on Tripadvisor..'
I felt the colour rising in my cheeks.I mumbled a bit.
'Absolutely brilliant,we came especially because of it.. absolutely fantastic'
He patted me on the back.I could see his wife nodding her head in agreement and grinning at me.

One has egg on ones face

Posh Boy was over on the bar,his eyes narrowed suspiciously clearly wondering what the craic was.
'Biff..what was that all about???'
Me : 'Nutin.. nutin at all'
Phew.

Its your Birthday so you can darn well have whatever I decide you can have...

Yesterday lunchtime a group of four were booked in for lunch, they'd requested a 'nice' table as it was a Birthday celebration.(You'd be surprised how many diners ring up and make this sort of request,I'm often tempted to respond with 'oh I'm very sorry we only have nasty tables').
Anyway,I sat them on the biggest table in the centre of the pub in full view of the bar,fireplaces and blackboard menu.All bases covered.
The Birthday Boy was how can I put this pleasantly? Quite senior,and not very quick on his feet.
As they perused the menu the wife was overheard to say:
'Well ..its your 87th birthday today so you have WHATEVER you want,have a look,WHATEVER you want I say'
When we went over to take the order the old boy asked for the sausages.I was just  making a note of this when the wife pipes up:
'NO YOU'RE NOT HAVING SAUSAGES,I CAN MAKE THEM EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK AT HOME.HAVE SOMETHING DIFFERENT..something you don't have at home'

The old fella looks back up at the blackboard, frantically searching for something else and feeling under pressure I'm sure, as the other three had by now ordered.
The wife raises her eyebrows and says:
'You can have a rump steak, that'll be a treat,cooked medium to well done please'
As the order went to the kitchen,I was already fearful.
In our experience many older people tender to cope better with easier textures.Generally, even with fish they favour the bottom feeders,flat fish with tender flesh as opposed to the meatier varieties,so how an 87 year old was going to cope with a M-W done steak was mildly alarming at the very least.
I was also mindful of  the Danish Chocolate Biscuit cake incident and the 90 year old tooth which was unfortunately displaced.Shudder.

Not long after the meals were served,an unearthly gutteral sound began to emanate from the party table.The Cynical One and I looked at each other without speaking.We knew immediately what was happening.I wished the sound away. I'm good in a crisis but medical ones aren't my forte and anyway I have no training in the Heimlich manoeuvre.Diners at the other tables put down their cutlery.There it was again and they were bloody centre stage due to having the winning ticket on prime table jackpot.There wasn't a single person there that couldn't see what was happening.
The wife seemed unconcerned.She continued chatting to the rest of the party.The Cynical One admirably went over and enquired if everything was allright and would they like a glass of water.
At this point the wife whacked the old boy on the back with some force,at the same time saying very loudly: 'BREATHE'
Thankfully this seemed to do the trick.Thank God.I had already visualised the headline in our local rag:
'87 year old chokes on birthday tea at local Inn after winning prime table jackpot'

We can purée if required.

As the plates were cleared we noted Old Boys napkin had been placed over his food(always an ominous sign)none of which had been eaten,well some briefly then obviously returned to the plate.
He apologised.

As the pudding order was taken,the wife turned to the Birthday Boy and said 'I don't think you should have anything else,we don't want to overdo it do we?'

I could have cried,a bit of ice cream might have soothed his poor old throat..

How to make a few words count

Working within any service industry acquiring the ability to deal with difficult customers is a required skill.

Throw some alcohol into the mix and workers within the hospitality industry experience uniquely challenging situations.

Last Friday night we welcomed a particularly unpleasant example.

Quite early on he was flagged up as a potential problem.As the wine flowed his voice increased in volume  until eventually his conversation was conducted in permanent UPPER CASE. 

Being moderately offensive to the waitress throughout the meal the behaviour peaked as The Blonde accidentally spilled a glass of red wine on to the lap of a diner seated at an adjacent table.Though not entirely to blame ,the diner having failed to notice her approach knocked the drinks tray from her grip in a particularly extravagant hand gesture(no doubt in an effort to make himself heard over the continual din from the next table).

The problem customer witnessed the whole incident.Quick as a flash he gestured The Blonde over.

'EXCUSE ME MISS,I'VE SPILLED SOME OF MY STEAK SAUCE ONTO MY LAP HERE WOULD YOU MIND JUST RUBBING IT OFF FOR ME PLEASE???'

(Legs splayed and pointing at his crotch)

His wife muttered quietly 'I cant believe you just did that'.Then sat with the tired look of someone who is resigned to witnessing a lifetime of similar tastelessly lairy displays.

The Blonde reiterated the conversation to the kitchen.Including the information that he had undone his trousers to allow his swollen stomach to escape the grip of his ill fitting raspberry corduroys.

'Do you want me to go out and slap him?'said Chef helpfully.

'No' said the Blonde 'I feel sorry for his wife she looks very sad...'

Later he diverted his attention over to the bar area,leaving his companions contentedly alone at the table.

'LOOK AT ME!I'M HAVING SOME BANTER WITH THE LOCALS'

I'm not sure where he was from,but he was calling everyone 'John' in a misplaced attempt at feigned familiarity.

It transpired they were all en route to a village around ten miles away.

As he had by this time consumed copious amounts of alcohol and was incapable of driving the party to their lodgings,he was soliciting directions to enable the wife to assume driving duties.No doubt a regular occurrence.

At this point he turned his attention to myself asking if it would be possible to arrange a taxi if need be.

Great.He wants to go.

'Yes of course what time shall I ask them to come for you?'(soon please)

'WELL NOT ...YET WE MAY STILL DRIVE..'

'Well it is Friday I will need to give them notice or you might have a long wait'

'DON'T WORRY I'M SURE WE CAN THINK OF SOMETHING TO DO TO AMUSE OURSELVES.....'

In your dreams mate.

I moved behind the bar in order to put a substantive obstacle between us.

A regular at the bar,a man of few words, witnessed the unfolding drama,glanced at me and raised his eyebrows in disdain.

Another local directed the stranger over to the man of few words advising him that he could give him good directions coming in fact from the particular village he intended to travel to.

The stranger made the mistake of adding the tagline 'John' to the end of his request for help.

'How did you know my name was John?' said the regular thoughtfully.(His name wasn't John BTW)

'JUST A LUCKY GUESS' Guffaw.

'Well I tell you what' said the man of few words...'Why don't you just guess your way over to the village'

With that, he necked the remnants of his pint,turned and strode purposefully to the door without even giving the stranger a cursory glance.

In the background I'm sure I heard a ripple of applause but it may have just been in my head.

Familiarity does breed contempt...

Uncommonly serious post

The Good Pub Guide came out recently.

Last year,for the first time in its 28 year history,the guide introduced a charge for featured pubs.
At the time we hummed and hahed over whether we should stay in the guide,then a twitter friend commented that  if we thought it was good PR for the pub we should just stump up the cash and stay in.
So we did.
This year we didn't really give it much thought,the invitation to be included arrived  and we sent off the payment.
This weekend I saw a copy of the 2013 guide for the first time.
I was surprised to see last years County Dining Pub of the Year demoted to a 'worth a visit' entry.
 'worth a visit' pubs are:
' pubs that have been recommended by readers in the year before the guide goes to print and that we feel are worthy of inclusion-many of them,indeed as good in their way as the featured pubs'
There has to be a reason why last years County Dining pub of the year is given only a worth a visit entry at the end of the county chapter.
So.
Is it under new ownership?
No
Has the Chef changed?
No
Has its entry in other notable guides lapsed?
No

Hmmmm.
Could it be perhaps that they decided against forking out the dosh?thus warranting only a minor mention?
I see also that the guide reports a record number of new entries(a bumper crop of 252-the most ever) this in a time when we are told 12 pubs a week continue to close.Call me a cynic but Id like to see this figure offset by the number of pubs which have disappeared from the guide.

Fast forward a couple of years.
Lets imagine that a significant number of the pubs that would previously have achieved a full entry status decide against paying the annual fee.(I think it was around £200 this year).
Its unlikely that all of these pubs would be included as 'worth a visit' pubs otherwise valuable space for paying entries might be lost(lets not be so naive as to think they don't have a financial target).
Therefore its probable to assume that good pubs might disappear from the guide,whilst less notable pubs that may previously have achieved only a worth a visit mention might have featured status.
Not really a Guide any more is it?More a guide to the best of those willing to pay.

Everyone knows there are guides which charge for inclusion,the problem with the Good Pub Guide is its reputation as being one of the independent guides(eg Michelin and Good Food Guide) .
Whilst a pub cant approach the guide and ask to pay to be included(they invite you),there is no denying that the introduction of charges for main entries totally alters the dynamic of the book as witnessed above.

Of course all of the above is supposition.

What do you think?Shall we pay for inclusion next year?(Assuming of course we're invited..)

Chow for now.

Mrs Marples.

NB The Good Beer Guide also published recently and compiled by Camra remains impartial,there is no charge for inclusion in this guide.

Jonny Fartpants comes to lunch

At lunchtime today as I was clearing some plates from a table in the conservatory,an elderly gentleman on sticks was struggling to his feet.As I turned he let off the most massive fart.
Reader,it was so loud it almost blew the tiles off the roof.
How I managed to get to the kitchen without exploding I do not know.However, once there I was creased up for several minutes in fits of laughter,tears streaming down me face,laughed like a drain so much so that me stomach was in spasm.
At this point The Cynical One appeared.
'What's going on? Everyone can hear you out there..'
'Did the couple from the conservatory hear? I say feeling momentarily stricken with guilt.
'Yes,the woman was paying the bill and commented that the kitchen sounded very jolly..'
I gave a brief run down of the events leading up to the raucous laughter,including the fact that Jonny Fartpants didn't bat an eyelid ,completely failing even to acknowledge the incident.

'Perhaps he didn't hear it' said the Cynical One
'What?Well he MUST have at least felt it' I say..
'Well... better an empty house than an angry tenant' said the Cynical One..
This prompted a ten minute exchange of similar proverbs resulting in yet more hilarity. I'm afraid I'm unable to reproduce the vast majority of these here.Suffice to say there's nowt like a bit of toilet humour to raise the mood.

Stand clear for the blast

On a more serious note,there's been something really annoying me lately which I must share with you. I've noticed certain parties using twitter adding an 'X' to the end of every farking tweet.And its not just to people they are particularly friendly with-its to EVERYONE they tweet to without exception.
This devalues the X. No one likes a X more than I do but to get one from a complete stranger feels a bit..well ..creepy.In the right context,you know after you've spoken to someone for a while or indeed at least exchanged a few pleasantries or perhaps if you've done them a favour,than I would be made up to be rewarded with a special X,otherwise no.
An occasional X is good, but showing yourself to be a serial Xer totally smacks of wanton insincerity..
Lets put X back where it belongs as a special occasion treat to be anticipated and earned,not dished out indiscriminatingly much like a groupon coupon.
In a similar vein I've also noticed a strange phenomena in the incorrect usage of the word 'lovely'.In its most common form the tweet is ended 'thanks lovely'.On the first occasion I saw this I was slightly puzzled,I presumed there was a word or two missing from the end of the tweet,lovely what?? Was it a lovely avatar,lovely comment or even a lovely outfit? As time went on I realised the word lovely was being used in the context of an attributive adjective to describe the actual person but in its own right with the omission of the word  'person' or 'girl' or perhaps 'friend',much as sweetheart,chuck or pet might be used depending or your point of reference.
This is a new one on me.Does anyone ever use this turn of phrase in real life?? Correct me if I'm wrong but I think not.
The only thing worse than the use of the phrase 'thanks lovely' is  its plural form 'thanks lovelies'
*Boak*
That really gets my goat.

Finally,I noticed a really odd statistic the other day.I wrote this blog post a while back,its not particularly noteworthy but for some reason it is getting *a lot* of hits.This has been bothering me somewhat,given that its only been on the blog for a short period of time and has already almost made it onto the front page as a most popular post.
Further investigation revealed the true nature of its popularity.
*Lightbulb moment*
It seems the search word 'noose' has brought an infeasible volume of traffic to visit me l'il ole blog.
What a load of weirdos there are trawling the interwebs.Personally, I blame 50 Shades of.
So if perhaps you're the author of a blog and you want to boost your site traffic a wee bit, may I suggest you incorporate a few carefully chosen words into your next post?
Me? I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing.

Dog Collars..Handcuffs..Chains..Blindfolds.. Bums! Spanking!

Thanks lovelies.

Biff xxx

PS I note in the time its taken me to write this the post in question has actually made it onto the front page,547 views and counting...at this rate Marcus Wareings infeasibly hirsute arms are going to be kicked into touch pretty darn soon

The Firestarter

The Old Duffers were in again the other lunchtime.
The craic(not a euphemism) was quite literally arse-clenching.
Foggy rambled on in intimate detail for at least an hour on the intricacies of his bowel action,well to be frank the problem being the apparent drought of the required regular evacuation.
Compo and Clegg shifted increasingly uneasily in their seats,the ales going down with distinct lack of usual verve due to the unwelcome graphic conversation.
At several points both politely tried to shift the topic of discussion:
'my tomato skins are particularly thick this year, due to slow growth, a direct result of the lack of sunshine I imagine....'
But Foggy stuck to his subject with dogged determination,at regular intervals the other two contributing only the odd 'mmhmmm.....mmhmm...'
Finally the protracted and predominantly one sided conversation culminated in the comment:
'After all these years spent sitting on the toilet,I've finally come to realise that its just not worth it'

There was a momentary silence..followed by a thoughtful slurp of their pints,whilst the other two no doubt pondered what momentous event had eventually prompted Foggys' 'lightbulb' moment..
'Whys that?'said Clegg..
'Well,years ago someone told me that I had to go every day,so every day I've sat straining(for the most part unproductively I might add..),now all I do is eat a couple of bananas and go every other day..'

The accompanying shake of his head conveyed the depth of his regret at a lifetime of futile,fruitless pot sitting.
I wonder what age it is you get to when all the usual conversational propriety goes out of the window and what's really important becomes crystal clear?
I suppose that's the age that time itself becomes the valuable commodity,hence the regret.
Sigh.
As Chef says 'plenty of time to to sleep when you die...'


It was the last of the summer Bank Holidays today,the weather provided its usual support,though I did tweet we had some new and exceptionally large garden parasols which would brave the storm.
As usual we managed to attract a couple of 'miserables'.
Not long after opening The Blonde swept through the kitchen door with usual gusto:
'The bloke on table 4 is an absolute f***wit,I swear Biff,he IS ONLY HERE TO COMPLAIN'
'Just like you're sole purpose is to take that door off its hinges..'said Chef without even glancing up from the stove...
'Its OK Ill go out and check on him' I say placatingly...
I approached the table wearing my best winning smile,cloth draped over my arm Fawlty style.
The sight of someone older in authority seems to solicit a more reserved response from even the most angry of customers.
'Is everything allright for you there?'
'Yes.....yes i suppose so'
'Are you sure?' (Come on give me your best shot)
'Well actually my wife's duck is overcooked and the skin is dried to a crisp'
I glanced at the lovely Confit duck leg on the plate,skin perfectly crisp and golden,pink tender flesh falling apart beneath and and wondered how the fark it could be improved by serving rare.

Duck legs in the process of being ruined due to overcooking

'Oh,the duck leg is cooked very slowly(as specified on the menu) for around four hours,in goose fat,its not like duck breast which can be served medium rare,were we to serve duck leg rare I'm afraid it would be ..well...chewy..'
'Well,if you say so'
'I do'
There was no gratuity.

Later,I managed to set someone's coat on fire.
We were just coming to the end of the Bank Holiday arse-ribbing extended eating hours, when the Blonde burst through the kitchen door yet again..
'BIFF, THERE'S A FIRE IN THE CONSERVATORY,CAN YOU DEAL??? I'M DOING SOMEONE'S BILL..'
(Good prioritisation)
Reader,you may remember my previous form when it comes to items of a combustible nature..

These are Jubilee Beacons not the actual fire

The sight of two foot high flames licking up from behind the wooden bench was fairly dramatic in a provincial pub setting,though not of Towering Inferno proportions.I managed to heroically beat them down with my trusty carrying cloth in an efficient fly swatting motion. It was quite satisfying and I was quite pleased with myself until the unmistakeable chemical smell of burning rubber wafted up ones nostrils and the customer whose initial demeanour had been one of relief visibly changed:
'Its really dangerous to have candles on a windowsill,yes on a table, but on a windowsill?? NO!'
As if to underline the absurdity of it all she picked up the offending candle and placed it decisively in the centre of the table.
'There' Glaring at me.
What do you say to someone whose coat is a shrivelled blackened mess,still smouldering with fine will-o-the-wisp tendrils of stinking smoke wafting upwards?
I offered to replace the coat..

'Did you check the brand?' said the Cynical One
'No'
'I mean are we talking Primani here or Barbour???'
'I'm not sure...it didn't look expensive...'
'Biff, wake up and smell the coffee,you're far too trusting, go and ask to see the label so you know what you're dealing with,tell them its like for like..'
'I don't think they'll rip me off,they come in quite often..'
'Well,don't say I didn't warn you..' The Cynical One raised her eyebrows in disbelief and walked off.I could hear her tut tutting as she went.
 Chef is yet to be informed of the compensation payment..

Much later, one of me favourite regulars,the local fire chief, popped in for a pint.He had already been furnished with full details(no doubt embellished) of the fire incident by the time I appeared at the bar.
'There's only two things I wouldn't entertain in my house' he said solemnly..
(why is everyone shaking their head at me today???)
'What's that then' I say
'Candles and  tumble dryers.. responsible for the majority of domestic fires''

Well that's it then,its the washing line all the way from now on....

In other news, remember yonks ago I was receiving a spate of incorrectly addressed post?
Well today this arrived..

*snort*

Containing this...

From MPW perhaps?

Someone's playing funny buggers again...

The Special Cheese Sarnie

We gazed out into the garden in the pre service calm before the storm, parasols gently fluttering in the pleasant sirroco blowing warmth into our faces,colourful blooms dancing in the sunlight.
At last a perfect summers day.
Despite this there was a feeling of impending doom.
'I think we're going to get arse-rodded today..'said the Blonde wistfully...
Which proved nothing if not an accurate prediction.
By the height of the lunchtime rush hour with only one remaining table free in the garden,a table of six eating inside decided they would 'go outside to eat their starters but would we keep their table reserved indoors in case they wanted to come back in'
Eh??
This is a new phenomena.
People expecting to reserve multiple tables.
A similar thing happened on the following evening.I was approached by a lady whom Id noticed sitting near the bar area earlier on.
'Excuse me that couple have sat at MY table '(pointing at a table in the middle of the dining area)
This puzzled me somewhat,I could see that the lady's companion remained comfortably seated at the table near the bar area.
'But don't you already have a table?' I say
'Yes we're sitting at a table over there but when we have our food we want to move over to that table,I already asked the girl on the bar if that was ok and she said it was'
'Yes but at that time there was no one sitting at that table,now there is so unfortunately you wont be able to sit there'
'Cant you move them?? It is my Birthday and I WANT to sit there..'
She was very persistent,right up to my face, almost threatening.
As it happens the couple who were sitting at the table normally like to sit over near the bar area but because all tables were taken and the bar being exceptionally busy they had taken a table further away from the bar than they would normally have liked.
'I'm afraid I cant ask someone to stand just so you can enjoy the benefit of two tables'
(Obviously two tables of two = four bums on seats not two..sigh..its a no brainer isn't it?)
I might have to start wrapping up pressies for the ones who want to play musical chairs...

We've also experienced another strange phenomena recently which is occurring with increasing regularity.
People reserving tables but omitting to mention that are bringing along X amount of children.
HELLO.. KNOCK, KNOCK on SCREEN.
Children are people too,they also require seats so if you don't book for them don't be disgruntled when we don't have any chairs left or a big enough table to sit you at.Unless you expect them to stand of course..
A large party experienced the repercussions of this error last Sunday when they had to sit out in the garden on a particularly blustery day after reserving a table for six then arriving with 5 additionals..

Please brace yourselves.We've had a serious complaint.Via e-mail no less:

My wife and I called in this evening for a drink and a sandwich having
> heard good things about your food.
(I bet your friends ordered a meal..)
> We ordered the Lake District cheddar and pickle sandwich each. I was told
> it came with a salad garnish.
(Please note the clue here is in the word garnish..)
> How disappointed we were when they arrived. Salad garnish consisted of a
> few very bitter leaves. No tomato, cucumber etc.
(Sorry about that,admittedly once outside the protection of the M25 one does expect to be provided with tomato,cucumber,red onion,grated carrot and perhaps even a segment of orange or two...)
> The main problem however, was the sandwich itself.
> The cheese and pickle did taste fine,(hoorah!) but the fact that the cheese was
> grated,(que??) and that it was served in a cheap white burger type bun was
> dreadful.
(oh dear,unforgivable..)
> All together it made it feel like we were in a roadside cafe, not
> somewhere we thought would provide us with a special experience.
(though the cheese and chutney sarnie is undoubtedly tasty, I'm struggling to come to terms with it being a special experience..am I missing something??..anyone??)
>
> Very disappointing indeed.

Here's my response:

I'm very sorry that you did not enjoy your experience.
Our sandwiches are all served with a simple salad garnish with french
dressing,our staff are advised to explain that the garnish consists of mixed
leaves only(Mache,curly endive,red chard and oak leaf lettuce).Im very sorry that
in your case this didnt happen.
The bread which we serve our sandwiches on is sourced from a Master baker,
 who delivers direct to us every morning.I can assure you this
bread is not cheap,the bun is a large Scotch Bap and not a burger bun.We did
trial two bakeries before deciding on this particular baker after canvassing
feedback from lunchtime diners.
Im not sure why the cheese being grated was a problem,this is more time
consuming for us,but we are of the opinion that this provides better
presentation than simply slicing the cheese.
We believe that at £4.50 our cheddar and chutney sandwich offers excellent
value for money,especially given the amount of good quality cheese and
homemade chutney.
We could buy cheaper but all the ingredients we use are carefully sourced,we
avoid mass produced products,most of our menu is sourced within
Northumberland as we are committed to supporting the local economy and
keeping food miles down.
Im really upset to think that you felt you were seated at a roadside cafe
this is really not the impression we strive to give,we spend a lot of time
and expense on creating what we hope is a pleasant environment both within
the pub and in the garden.
Had we known you were dissatisfied we would have been more than happy to
provide an alternative menu item which might have been more to your
taste.Perhaps a starter if you were looking for something light but a bit
more special than a simple sandwich?
If you would like to visit us again I would be happy to fulfil this offer.
Lastly I would like to thank you for taking time to write as we do
appreciate feedback from our customers,if you would like to discuss the cheese sandwich further
please dont hesitate to contact me.

I asked Chef to proof read the e-mail before I sent it.
He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
'Can I make a suggestion?'
Self:'Yes of course'
'Why don't you just send '---- off, you t---s'

That's why I'm in charge of PR and not him....

PS I haven't heard anything back yet. Perhaps my last paragraph may have got their backs up...

Reality Check

I'm beginning to worry that this blog is becoming a bit one dimensional,the thing is the majority of customers are actually very nice people and are beautifully behaved,but whichever way you dress it up, the story of a satisfied customer isn't exactly riveting reading:
'A very nice couple came for dinner,thoroughly enjoyed their meal and left us a generous tip'.
Its just not happening is it??
So,continuing synchronistically with the usual theme, last Tuesday we welcomed yet another difficult diner.
It was only as the plates were cleared that we became aware of a problem.
'The food was OK but I didn't get my Dijon mustard'
I was a tad confused by this statement.
'Did you request Dijon??'I say
'Yes I asked for French mustard but they brought me Mr Colmans English impersonation of a French mustard not actual Dijon'(glaring whilst continuing to dip the remnant chips into the pot of French mustard)..*gag*

Mr Colman the English imposter

'Just to let you know,had you asked for Dijon mustard we could have brought some for you...'I say...lamely.
'Its OK it doesn't matter,anyway its too late now'
As I walk away to deposit said plates in the kitchen I just catch the following:
'I've got some more feedback for her as well if she bothers to come back'
Sigh.
On my return to the table this:
'Whilst your Merlot is not off 'per se',the amount of sediment present in the glass,especially with a Chilean wine,is indicative that its been sitting on your shelf for some time..'
This statement is inherently wrong.Either the wine was off or it wasn't.By his own admission it wasn't actually off so what in fact was the complaint??
Resisting my initial overwhelming urge to say why don't you just STFU,

Tourettes on toast

(Chef is increasingly concerned I'm beginning to show signs of late onset Tourettes),instead I say :
'Oh,I'm very surprised to hear that,given that the Merlot is one of our best selling wines by the glass therefore the turnover of that particular wine is in fact very healthy,however if you were dissatisfied with the wine I would have been more than happy to provide you with an alternative' Big smile.
As I walked away I just caught the aside:
'Well if that's your attitude..'
We need to get tougher with people,if someone makes a completely unfounded accusation within earshot of other customers surely we are entitled to defend our reputation? I also always worry that it inspires further complaints.People do tend to have a flock instinct.
Needless to say,there was no gratuity.
I can already sense the tone of another furiously composed mobile Tripadvisor entry,truly Im constantly amazed by the high standard of peoples manual dexterity these days.
As I cleared the empty glasses from the table an unexpected incident made my day.

Reader,I've been waiting for months for something like this to happen,something mildly amusing but in keeping with the tone of m'blog.
*Klaxon* nice customer alert.
The gent on the table sited directly next to the complainer gestured me over.
'May we have one of those crappy bottles of Merlot that you've had sitting on the shelf for months please,if we may??'
Me faith in human natured restored and the unpleasant earlier exchanges hastily forgotten me feet barely touched the ground for the remainder of the lunchtime and the warm glow lastly fairly through to evening service...

Crappy Merlot

Now listen up you lot. This is important.We need to have a wee reality check.
One of you made a very sweet girl cry last week.This is completely unacceptable.
Ive been spending most of my time in the kitchen this week covering holiday leave.
On Thursday night we were very busy.
During the mayhem a couple of 'walk-ins' chanced by.
As checks were backed up in the kitchen we told the the very sweet waitress to let the couple know that they could eat but we were very busy and there would be a wait,but we would feed them as soon as we could.
They were served drinks and took a seat in the bar.
A short while later they called the waitress in question over and asked to order,at which point she came and checked with us in the kitchen to see how long the wait would be.
The couple were duly informed that we had a table x 15 to plate up ,followed by a 7,a couple of 3's and 2's.
All booked.
At this point the wife commenced an aggressive and relentless verbal onslaught culminating in the phrase
 'It will be a long time before we return here again'
The poor girl was reduced to tears.
Two things worry me  about this statement, they are the words 'long time' which invokes the proposition of the actual possibility that she might consider returning *at some point*and I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FARK SHE LOOKS LIKE.
Why do people think that food can magically be produced on demand no matter how many people are waiting?
Do they think that we have a boatload of food cooked off ready to serve just on the off chance that the whole of the Royal Battalion the Scots dragoon guards might drop by for an impromptu supper?
Oddly, we don't cook anything until you actually order it,our aim is to serve you decent food and to make a PROFIT.
Here is the most surprising fact.
We don't actually want to inconvenience you or make you wait around until you get annoyed and fractious,because surprisingly we want your cash..


Helpful hint:The point of a bookings system is to stagger bookings,therefore avoiding delays,which is beneficial for both the kitchen and customer,so if having to wait a while is a major inconvenience why not ring ahead and book a time instead of taking out your frustrations on some poor unsuspecting girl who both deserves better and isn't paid enough to field your abusive and uncalled for verbal diarrhoea.

Over and out.

Excuse me whilst I get the noose ready..

I've eavesdropped some particularly entertaining conversations this week.
Ive written before about the confusion over menus which regularly occurs.
Last Tuesday lunchtime as a couple in their forties were browsing our menus,I was just within earshot.
I overheard the wife pondering what came with the home baked ham and Pease pudding,then similarly the rump steak and fried onions.As they were reading from the sandwich menu I was mildly puzzled.I wondered what else they expected it to come with,though customers usually expect everything to come with something else thrown in gratis.
We used to have a bar snacks menu which included items such as Northumbria Rarebit toast. I'm afraid we sort of shot ourselves in the foot with that one as diners began to take up tables dining out at lunch-time for 1.95 each..sigh..then complaining that they were disappointed that 'it didn't come with anything' It was when they started to ask for a glass of tap water to accompany( can I have a slice of lemon in that please,and some ice just to give it a little 'something'..but obviously I wont be paying for it even though you buy the lemon,pay the member of staff to serve and wash the glass oh and don't forget the water its NOT ACTUALLY free,ever heard of a water meter and rates???)  that we finally knocked that one on the head...
*Breathe*

This is what the blackboard said:

Sarnies


Home baked ham with Pease pudding
Rump steak,fried onions Cos lettuce
Lake District Cheddar & Chutney
Local duck egg mayo
Locally cured bacon,lettuce and tomato


Chips and Aioli


I was just about to make my way over to explain that the sandwiches came with a salad garnish when I witnessed the following:
Husband:'I wonder if they do any sandwiches?'
Wife:'Oh yes they do,look at the top there it says 'sarnies',Ill just go and ask what fillings they have'
Husband:'Hang on its OK, they've got chips and ravioli look,at the bottom there, that's what I'm going to have'
Wife:'Yes me too...'

Sometimes you just have to lead people by the hand..


Last night a gentleman of Southern origin approached the bar.
'Excuse me,do you have any rums?'
Barmaid(helpfully):'Yes we have Lambs Navy and Bacardi'
The gent stood there momentarily mouth agape and in obvious confusion, no doubt wondering what the Hell she was on about.
At the time I was standing behind the bar pouring drinks for a table in the restaurant,I was immediately aware of the faux pas.
I managed to splutter out 'he's looking for a room' before exiting left to cellar in order to completely lose all semblance of composure.
Its a Northern thing you see we tend to accentuate the 'oooo' whereas people from other parts might read a 'buk' or ask for a 'rum'....

At the side of the bar next to the food till we have a blackboard which tells people where the days meats have originated,thus:

Now as a rule diners are VERY specific about what they want to order,going into great detail regarding the accompaniments to each dish,often interchanging menu items,making up their own accompaniments.Recently we had a diner who ordered a meal and was very insistent that no ingredient on the plate must come into contact with another ingredient(even though she was going to eat them all),needless to say the sauce to be served separately in a boat..
Similarly people can be very specific about which table they sit at to eat their meal,not being able to sit at the first choice of table can often result in a defamatory review on Tripadvisor.
Recently a couple came into the bar for lunch,they had been waiting outside for us to open for at least ten minutes.On gaining entry the wife frantically tried out at least six tables before other diners were able to sit down,then saying to the husband 'this is the one'.
The husband then asked to book the table  as they were going for a walk and would return for lunch in 40 minutes time.We reserved the table for them,on their return they consumed one bowl of soup and a portion of chips...
On Thursday evening a chap who had reserved a large table(10 people) for Sunday lunch came in to 'view' which table he would be seated at on the Sunday.
Now as a pub if you're not fully booked on a Sunday lunchtime you must be doing something seriously wrong.So as a rule we don't allocate tables until the last minute in order to maximise available table space,therefore coming to view your table on a Thursday evening isn't necessarily a good plan.
However,being a big table there were only really two options,I showed him our largest table in the dining room.
'Hmmm,Im not sure that'll be big enough,some of us are quite large people...'
'Oh'I say 'well that is our largest table.. and it is for ten people...'
What the feck are we supposed to do?Buy in bigger tables for bigger people??Or start going all airline and charging for an extra seat?
Chef sighed 'I suppose they'll be wanting extra Yorkshire's,roasties and veg but paying the same price as the regular sized people..'
I made a mental note to furnish the table with the sturdiest chairs in the pub and primed meself for trouble..
Worryingly,I'm increasingly finding myself sizing up the larger diners that enter the pub and willing them towards the sturdy chairs.
Perhaps its time to purchase a new batch,some are quite creaky....its only a question of time before the inevitable happens..




In light of the above I was very surprised this week when a diner asked to order 'the pork'.
'Oh' I say,would you like the Pork and black pudding terrine or the pork sausages?'
'No Id like the pork,from that board there' (pointing at the meat board)
'Ah I say' smiling and nodding encouragingly 'that's our meat sourcing board, that's to let you know which local farms our meat products have been sourced from this week.So(in best schoolteacher voice) 'the pork' refers to the pork terrine and the sausages.Similarly,'the beef'denotes the origins of our steaks,rib of beef and also the beef in Brown ale'
'Ah!!!' says the diner 'I see'
Thank the Lord the penny has dropped.
Self:'So,what can I get for you?'
Diner:'I'll have'the beef' please...'

Excuse me whilst I just get the noose ready...

Its always best to travel light...

Though I'm no photographer I've come to the conclusion that in certain locations its pretty difficult to take a bad photo.

A fine brew

'View through the window of the Shitmobile'

In contrast to previous form,Chef managed to pack our stuff in an actual suitcase.
Though admittedly, his reputation was rapidly restored with the revelation that his our toiletries were handily contained within a knotted doggy poop bag.
'Dont worry, its clean..'
Sigh.
Chef likes to travel light.
A three day break will typically involve minimal packing with sufficent clothing for the three days only and little deviation.
As in his work life every detail meticulously planned with no margin for error.
As we arrived at our first port of call I realised the freshly ironed shirts designated for evening wear remained conveniently hanging on the back of the bedroom door at home.
Being a casual kind of a guy, a flicker of delight flashed across Chefs face as he realised he might well have been gifted an unexpected reprieve and may indeed be dining out for the duration in favourite attire: t shirt and jeans.
Later that night we encountered our second wardrobe fail.
Id forgotten to pack my PJs.
'I'll just borrow one of your t shirts' I say.
Chef frowned,'But that's going to leave me one day short..'
'Its OK' I say 'we can buy you a couple of t shirts tomorrow...'

If you fancy a bit of clothes shopping,DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT go to Skye.
Please note,there are no shops on Skye selling regular clothing.
Things were getting desperate when on the final day and just prior to a nice meal out,and worryingly with Chef still no suitable and clean top to wear, we chanced on the Talisker distillery shop.

Lifesaver

Amidst the wonderful range of malt whisky were (joy of joys) a selection of t shirts...

That evening as we sat troughing our very nice meal and sipping a nice crisp Riesling which paired perfectly with the langoustines,I complimented Chef on his new smart attire.
 Glancing around furtively, then down at his discreetly branded frontage Chef was unconvinced.
'I look like an American tourist..'
Much later as we knocked back our post prandial Sammy B's( and aided in no small part by the unusual availability of chefs favourite brew), the mood had lightened somewhat.

 'They probably think we've won this in a competition' said Chef...
Snigger.
'One more for the road??'
Why not.