Picky eater?

Being coeliac, I like to think I'm sympathetic towards diners with food allergies.
However,its always a good idea to let us know in advance if you have a detailed list of allergies.
This is beneficial for both parties.
1.It allows the kitchen to prepare.
2.It will allow you as a diner to enjoy an increased range of options rather than a very limited one.

This example a couple of weeks ago was bad enough:
(sorry had a photo of this but cant find it,new phone et al.I miss my BB *sob*)

Gluten free
Dairy Intolerant
No red meat or fish
Likes-chicken.

Notice the 'likes chicken' notation at the bottom of the check.
The fact that this diner likes chicken is of no relevance whatsoever given that there was no chicken on the menu therefore non available in the meat fridge.
Guess what?
If its not on the menu we don't bother to buy any in.This may come as a surprise but strangely we don't buy in a whole range of off menu ingredients just on the off chance a random diner might fancy any of them.
Throwing a weekly shed-load of unused ingredients in the bin wouldn't be doing our GP any good would it?
Last Friday night,however,ones patience was stretched to the hilt.
The following list of food intolerances was passed to the kitchen on a busy Friday night service,with no prior notification.

At best this is inconsiderate and at worst plain stupid.
Twenty four items including wheat,dairy,eggs and a plethora of other everyday ingredients.
 Here's an exact transcription:

Mrs Gibson's(I've changed the name to protect anonymity) food intolerances


Wheat
Dairy
Eggs
Tomatoes
Broccoli
Peas
Celery
Pepper
Chilli(dried and fresh including chilli paste)
Herbs(both dried and fresh with the exception of fresh coriander)
Bacon,pork,pancetta
Sausage
Salmon
Scallops
Crab
Olive oil
Vinegar(including balsamic)
Pasta
Nuts
Seeds including sesame seeds
Yeast
Onions and shallots
Lemon/citrus fruits


Chef shook his head in despair.
When the order was taken the lady with the dietary problem ordered the following:
 Starter:
Feta and watermelon salad with toasted pumpkin seeds(but no pumpkin seeds please).

'and presumably no dressing either' said Chef.'And what about the feta?Its says dairy intolerant on the list'
This caused a heated debate.Is the milk of any mammal considered dairy?Or is it just cows?The point is she didn't check to see if it was a goats cheese feta.Personally if I had as many allergies as this I would have been making absolutely sure everything I was served was ok.
A quick check back to the table and apparently she was 'fine' with feta.
Main course:
Grilled Coley with brown shrimp butter,new potatoes and purple sprouting broccoli..
A glance at the out of bounds list ruled out both the broccoli and the butter.And any olive oil or pepper to cook or season.
The fish was steamed and served with some alternative green vegetables.
We wavered over the brown shrimps.
I checked the list.
'No there's scallops on there but no mention of shrimps or even prawns come to that'

In an effort to make the dish look a little bit more interesting Chef scattered the brown shrimps over the top of the fish and sent it out.
A decision which  later proved ill advised.
Minutes later it was returned to the kitchen.
With the handy check-list grasped in my sweaty little paw, I steamed over to the table .
I enquired as to the problem with the dish.
'I cant eat shrimps'
Holding up the list I say:'We checked your list to see if shrimps were mentioned,see'(pointing at list and nodding encouragingly)'no mention...'

Reader,please brace yourself for the response.

'Oh... that list isn't exhaustive, its merely a guideline to the more commonly used ingredients which I'm allergic to..'


Trying desperately to rearrange my facial features so as not to convey my utter disgust,I retired to the kitchen to impart the bad news to Chef.
Sometimes the public are as difficult to read as a fecking James Joyce novel...

Later that night at Cutlery Corner,we were still discussing the absurdity of it all

Blonde: I cant stand picky eaters.
Self:Toootally.
Blonde:I had a boyfriend once who was a picky eater.I had to get rid of him because of it.Well actually there were two problems with him.The eating was one of them.Basically all he ate was bread,meat and chips.
Self:Awful...
Blonde:I mean,when I cook my man a nice meal I want him TO EAT IT.Not just sit there and pick out all the peas and beans..
Self: God yes.

We polish the cutlery in silence for a few minutes.

Self:What was the other problem?
Blonde:What Problem?
Self:You said there were two problems...With the boyfriend?
Blonde: Oh yes......His dental hygeine wasn't good enough.
Self:Eww.Probably a side effect of his bad diet...

As we polished the last of the cutlery I wondered what level of dental hygiene rendered the standard not 'good enough'..

Tales from Cutlery Corner

The twice daily ritual cutlery polishing is the job most staff prefer to dodge.

Personally I find it quite therapeutic,nothing can quite beat the satisfaction of creating a pristine and hygienically polished stick of cutlery.

Besides,the calibre of conversation at cutlery corner lately has seen a definite upturn...

Blonde Waitress:'Biff,do you believe in God?'

Self: 'Hmm,I believe in treating people in a Christian manner..but as an actual entity? Jury's still out on that one I'm afraid..'(nice deflection).

Blonde:'Nah,Me neither'...'have I ever told you about my plans to rewrite the bible?'

Self;'No......'

Blonde:'Well I've been thinking....if they want to attract more young people to their cult,they need to revamp it a bit...Update it'

Self:(pedantically sorting all the main course knives out first,more pleasure from a glinting shiny blade)'..........'

Blonde:'For example...Moses and the Burning Bush'...(adopts pulpit manner)
'Moses and God walking through the desert one day,smoking a spliff together.Off their trolleys...God tosses the spent spliff into the bushes which then catch fire.Moses jumps into the bush to put the fire out..' 

Extravagant had gesture..'Ta dah!

'Moses reappears from the bush'

...'Moses and the Burning Bush'...(looks hopefully at self)...

Moses extinguishes flames

'MUCH more believable, don't you think??'

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

Blonde: 'I once told that to a group of Christians,I thought they were going to HAVE me'

Then last night this.

Blonde: Have you seen the newspaper cutting that's being passed around the bar tonight?

Self:'No, what's it about?'

Blonde:'Well apparently there's a law being passed in Egypt which makes it legal for husbands to have 'relations' with their wives for up to 7 hours after their death'

Self;'What?Are you sure its not from the Sunday Sport?'

Blonde:'NO its real Ill go get it'

Self:(gives paper cursory glance)'Ah! The Daily Mail.The ultimate stamp of authentication(ironic face)..Grim'

Blonde:'I mean I cant see the point in that can you?'

Self:'Absolutely not'

(Exit left to kitchen to fetch another cutlery bucket).

Blonde:'I mean they're hardly going to get much feedback are they?'

Self:'Hold on....Lets just get this straight.. So what you're saying is the main problem with having a farewell flourish with a corpse is the LACK OF FEEDBACK???'

We both polish the remaining cutlery in thoughtful silence..

Add caption

Religion.Eh?

I'm thinking of making Cutlery Corner a regular feature...

Please don't mention Tripadvisor.

There was a table of four diners booked in yesterday lunchtime.
When the order was checked on in the kitchen it was noted that only one of the four was having a starter.
This is rude on two levels:

1.our aim being to extract as much cash as possible from you in order to increase our average spend per head,thus ultimately improving our GP,we would consider it far more polite if the whole table were to partake of a starter.

2.It takes a certain type of person to sit and eat a starter whilst the rest of the table sit patiently and watch, waiting for them to finish.

Most diners placed in this position will cancel when they realise they are the only taker.
When the starter was cleared,news filtered back to the kitchen that Table 3 would like a 'break' before the main courses were sent,thus extending the remaining threes wait for food even longer.

Well.

This always goes down well in the kitchen.
The thing is when a starter is cleared,your main course isn't going to appear immediately anyway.So any request for a break generally signifies a longer wait then the kitchen wants you to have, i.e they will have put your main course on to cook to coincide with starters being finished,factoring in a short break. Any request for a longer *rest* and all may not be as jolly as usual in the kitchen.
Increasingly,it became obvious that the lone starter fellow was in fact self appointed spokesperson for the table.
As I walked past he nodded at me and curtly pronounced 'we'll have the main courses now'.
Will you indeed.
Note the absence of a small but particularly important pleasantry.

When the bill was presented,the four were asked if everything was OK for them.
Spokespersons wife made the 'Comme Ci, Comme Ca'(sorry about the lack of a cedilla,must find out how to do that)hand movement along with that screwed up face action that signifies all is not well.

'Oh' I say 'what was the problem?'
'Well,it was OK..but don't you think its a very limited menu?'

I wanted to ask them why they'd chosen the least adventurous items on the menu ie  3 fish and chips and 1 sausage and mash,instead I went into the standard response: local ingredients,small menu, freshly cooked etc,I wont bore you with the full details, I'm sure you get the gist.
Then I say:
'Out of interest,what sort of things would you have liked to see on the menu?'

Self appointed spokespersons wife stuttered briefly before spokesperson interjected:
'That's not for us to say its for YOUR CHEF to decide'
Exactly.
'To be honest' said spokesperson 'we were very UNDERWHELMED, especially after seeing all those glowing reviews on TRIPADVISOR'

This is why Tripadvisor is wrong on so many levels.

Get a bad review and it may well put customers off.
Get a couple of good reviews and attract a clutch of new customers with expectations of a fine dining gourmet extravaganza who may well go away disappointed and disgruntled.
There is no winning.
I'm increasingly falling into Chefs viewpoint that its much better to keep a low profile.


'Don't worry' said spokesperson 'we will *try*you again..'


'Just so you know..' I say.. 'if you do visit again,the menu we have on today is representative both in quantity and style of what you may find if you visit again...'

That should do it.

I was still within earshot as they discussed the Tip.

'Well what shall we do about the tip?'
'10% is usual'
Spokesperson: 'Well I always give 5% towards service and 5% for the food.I don't have any issue at all with the service so we should leave 5%'
'OK so that's 2.50 each couple?'
Spokesperson:'Yes certainly no more than that.I mean I have been known to leave as much as 20% on occasion, if I'm very impressed, but no not today.Service yes,food,no...'
'OK 2.50 per couple it is'
'Yes that's more than generous..'

Reader,I had to restrain myself from going back over to the table and telling them that we might well live to fight another day without the flaming tip.

Instead I smiled my best winning smile and waved them out of the door before hurrying over to bash my head repeatedly against the daily changing blackboard menu..

How was your Bank Holiday weekend?

The first Bank Holiday of the year sees the re-emergence from their long winter slumber of the Day Tripper from the Toon.
Hunting in packs,and weakened by their long hibernation,they will seek out new feeding grounds,relentless in the search for their favourite sustenance.Its a dog eat dog situation with survival of only the fittest specimens,some will fall exhausted at the first hurdle,settling for the inferior 'plain pasta,no olive oil or butter, with grated cheddar cheese'.
The strongest however,will  press on, ruthlessly determined and unwavering,their overwhelming hunger spurring them ever onwards in their compelling quest for the ultimate prize....the Holy Grail...:

SCAMPI AND CHIPS.

Mindful of the above and keen to make use of our new additional fryer,Chef proposed a new menu item.
We've never served battered fish before,mainly because Chef doesn't like to taint the fryer with anything other chips.The last thing you want is chips with a fishy after taste,besides because we cater for the gluten free market we can ill afford any cross contamination.
Keen to do something a little bit different and with our veg suppliers' favourite mantra 'give the people what they want' ringing in my ears,I convinced Chef(against his better judgement),to serve the battered fish with a 'home made chip shop style curry sauce'.
On the Monday prior to the Bank Holiday,in the interests of market research, we made a  trip to our local chippy to purchase a container of the aforementioned curry sauce.
'Make sure you ask them how they make it' I say..
Presently Chef emerged with two cartons of sauce; a standard and an extra spicy version.The extra spicy was evil smelling,tasted vile and was immediately ditched.
We peered into the pot containing the milder standard yellow looking offer.
'Its not how I remembered it' I say 'back in the day it used to have bits in it,did you ask them how they made it?'
'Yes' replied Chef 'They buy it in a packet as a powder,boil the kettle and add water to it...'

Back at the ranch Chef perfected the curry recipe over the next few days.Eventually producing a concoction which contained real lumps of food,amongst other things,curry powder,sultanas and apple.
'That's it!'I exclaimed 'it tastes exactly like the powdered version!'
Chef adopted his deadpan face.
'That's the first time in my career I've been congratulated for recreating a dish which one can produce from a packet...'
In an attempt to upgrade the option Chef decided to provide a choice of two fish for battering:
A nice chunky North Sea Coley fillet or Monkfish wrapped in Parma ham.

The Coley option,the deep fried parsley made a pleasing fizz as it went into the fryer

Come Good Friday Bank Holiday the battered fish option was flying out.

Fryers in full swing

I was giving myself the first of many virtual pats on the back when I realised the repeated ringing of the bell was invoking mine and no one else's attendance in the kitchen.
Chef glared and gestured toward the check board.
'I knew it was only a question of time before that happened...'

Chips and curry sauce-great with Fosters..

Self:'Wind your neck in please before you bust a blood vessel'


By the end of the day the large pan of curry sauce had completely sold out,unfortunately the fish had not.


On the Saturday evening,as luck would have it I was again on Front of House duties when a very pleasant fellow dining with his wife and daughter gestured me over.
'Excuse me....my daughter's just been to the loo and I'm afraid someone has messed the toilet'
Dear God.I knew immediately that  the term 'messed' implied something far more substantial than a liquid spillage,indeed 'messed' is definitely a euphemism for a solid.
I donned surgeons gloves and entered the trap with trepidation.
Someone had fouled on the actual toilet seat.
Its surprising what you can deal with when you have to..*gag*.
I reported back to the table who had alerted me to the soiling incident.
'Its clean now if you want to use the toilet'
The young girl crossed her legs and looked unconvinced 'how does someone manage to do it there???'she asked.
'No idea..perhaps they're ambidextrous..'I say.

Bank Holiday Monday we were in overdrive.I felt a bit shakey by mid afternoon when Chef helpfully pointed out that Id eaten nothing but chocolate,crisps,chips,coffee and Lucozade since the Friday morning.
On the other hand he of course had eaten an altogether healthier Cardiac sandwich consisting predominately of Red Bull,Fosters,chocolate and salted peanuts..

I could see the light at the end of the tunnel however,when this encounter ocurred.
'Excuse me... what's your soup of the day today?'
'Its Potato and Lovage' I say
'Potato and ROUGHAGE?' said the chap
'No....L-O-V-A-G-E' I say,as I dash hastily past.
Presently I see the same chap waving me over to his table.
'What's lovage?'
'Its a herb,it tastes a bit like celery,its slightly peppery,we grow it in our garden'
Home grown in the garden,that'll seal the deal..I thought..
Looking to his wife'Shall we order some?'
'I'm not sure if Ill like it'
Husband: 'Can we taste some?Can you bring us an egg cup full of it and if we like it we'll order some'
At this point the place was heaving,the idea of providing samples of each dish to every customer did not appeal at all.
'I'm afraid I cant,we don't have a big pot of it boiling away,we only put some on if someone orders it,its really nice not an overpowering flavour,the potato is the main flavour'I smiled and nodded encouragingly.
Everyone knows potatoes.
'What other soups do you have?'
'Just the one variety(not 57 I thought..),its freshly made,a new batch every day'
Husband(looking at the wife again): 'Shall we order some?'
Wife:'No you know what I'm like with things I don't know...'

Christ Almighty.Its only a bowl of farking soup.

By this point the husband also had his head in his hands.
'Can I have one bowl of soup with two spoons please?'
'yes of course'
The bowl of soup was sent in due course with a SECOND order being sent to the kitchen very soon after.
The wife called me over to congratulate us on the soup.
It sounded like she had surprised herself
'I dont usually like things I don't know..'
The question Id like to ask is; how does she know she doesn't like them if she hasn't tried them?

Dear God.Give me strength.

 How was your Bank Holiday weekend?

PS I'm not sure the curry sauce idea will be getting a second airing...

Three Have a Wonderful Time.

Following our recent unfavourable experience over the border,we decided to book ourselves into more upmarket lodgings.


The cheapest most competitively priced room was described thus: 'a small room with bathroom en suite at the back of the lodge without a view'
I solicited Chefs input as to whether this room would be suitable for Only Daughter.
He smirked ..'What??That sounds like a broom cupboard with no windows above the garage...'
Lets be clear here,there is no such thing as a cheap room at this establishment,we erred on the side of caution however,and chose two mid range rooms.
On arrival we were greeted warmly and shown to the drawing room,complimentary fizz was offered which of course we accepted .This was a very nice touch.Got our stay off on the right foot.
OD's room was in the main building.A large traditionally decorated room ,with a big bed,spacious bathroom with convenient separate shower cubicle.
Our room was in the South Lodge about 50 metres from the main building.The room was nicely decorated, a bit smaller than ODs single occupancy room but with a lovely view over the Loch.

Pleasant Loch view

I peeked into the bathroom.I was surprised,it was small and quite basic with an over bath shower.Though to be fair I wasn't overly bothered.
'That explains the fizz' said Chef 'to soften the blow'
On further inspection I noted the presence of a small short and curly just next to the plughole in the bath.Now I'm not saying the bathroom wasn't clean, but  I'm afraid this one didn't quite pass the final and most important housekeeping check ;the under sink inspection and the fingertip tip search for stray personal flotsam.
Obviously, a single rogue item such as this can be easily missed,in fairness I periodically harvest enough hair to stuff a mattress from our own family bathroom,but the sight of someone else's public in the bath is an altogether different proposition and indeed very off-putting.
OD giggled hysterically at our obvious misfortune and the thought of her own nicely appointed bathroom.
A nice pot of calming tea in the South Lodge drawing room was in order, OD was despatched to the main building to place the order,Chef accompanied, expressing a desire to have a nose around Lady Claire MacDonald's shop which we had been informed during our brief tour of the facilities was 'open at all times'.
I settled down into the sumptuous sofa in front of the roaring log fire,taking due note of the honesty bar in the corner.
Presently I spied OD through the window on her way down the pathway from the main house bearing a huge hostess tray laden with full afternoon tea accoutrements.
Well.
Self service.
This surprised me somewhat.
We giggled.The tea was lovely,made with leaves and  in a nice china pot.
Minutes later Chef reappeared on the pathway.
'Was the shop shut?' I say
'No,but I didn't come all this way to buy a tattie masher'said Chef.
I drew Chefs attention to the Honesty Bar which raised the mood momentarily,then dashed again due to the absence of his beverage of choice.

Chef at leisure
(Any tips on Photo-shopping gratefully accepted.)

Following a leisurely afternoon we retired to our rooms to prepare for our evening meal.
Meeting for pre dinner cocktails in the lovely drawing room over at the main house.
Gin Martini with a twist for me,a very sweet purple cocktail for OD and a consolatory G and T for Chef due to the continuing drought of his own favourite beverage.
We were served canapés as we browsed the dinner menu.

Canapes

Note the three teaspoons,these were my gluten free options,goats cheese and Parma ham with pesto.I think I stumped the kitchen here.Dare I say this lacked imagination?Beggars cant be choosers though, I'm always grateful for anything.
There were a few couples dotted around the room on the cosy sofas.
Various guests were escorted through to the dining room,finally leaving us three and a pleasant looking couple with Yorkshire accents,chap sporting a jolly floral Boden shirt.
As we sat in silence  the unmistakeable sound of  creaking bed springs began to emanate from the room directly above.I caught Chefs eye and gestured upward.
He smirked.
The noise became louder,maintaining a steady but determined rhythmic pattern.
OD cottoned on,glanced delightedly over at the Yorkshire couple who simultaneously burst out laughing.
Chef regained some semblance of composure first:
'They should warn you about that on the internet'
The waiter who returned for our wine order wondered what had prompted the raucous laughter.Perhaps we should have told him.
Chef selected a wine which the waiter presently allowed me to OK..I was mildly surprised,a French tipple isn't Chefs usual choice.
As he returned from his fag break taking in some fresh air I commented.
'I didn't order French'
'Oops well you had better go tell them;- they showed me a bottle of Pouilly Fume, that's got to be the best part of £100 in a place like this'
We were shown to our table in the dining room and presented with our correct bottle of budget(£34) Antipodean plonk.We were advised by the waiter to leave it in the ice bucket a wee bit longer to chill.Obviously not a common choice..
OD requested a jug of tap water,I was surprised to see this served in a Laura Ashley style china jug with refreshing chunks of cucumber afloat within.Sometimes I think quirky is good but most of the time its just ....not.

The menu offered a choice of two starters, two mains and two puddings plus cheese.

The diners were mainly couples,gentlemen smartly attired with jacket and tie,(other than us of course)and a couple of fellows sat in the corner who were more casually dressed in combat trousers and checked shirts.
'We're paying for their meal' said Chef.
'What do you mean'
'Government funded scientists dining out at the tax payers expense'said Chef.
I looked over.They looked very comfortable.At one with their surroundings.Bored even.
'No they're a travel journalist and photographer from Conde Naste Traveller' I say.
Further evidence to support my theory was provided next morning when I spotted them down by the Loch with a very expensive looking wide angle lens camera.
'They could be monitoring the sea eagles' said Chef hopefully.
'I think you need to concede defeat on this one'I say..
I digress.
We were served a small pre starter a,shot glass of soup.Mine and ODs Slightly spiced pea.Chefs spiced red pepper.This puzzled me a bit.They were aware of our allergies(Chefs to fish,mine to gluten)so I couldn't work out why Chef had been given a different soup.Unless the pea soup contained fish stock.
Alternatively the red pepper was the gluten free option and was given to Chef in error.I suppose we'll never know.It was only a small amount so I took a chance and knocked it back.It was pleasant,but not as nice as the red pepper option,which Chef declared delicious.
A young couple entered the dining room and were seated at a cosy corner table .We eavesdropped the waiter offering congratulations and presenting a glass of fizz.
Johnnie Boden caught ODs eye,smiled and winked a knowing wink.
I felt a bit sorry for the honeymooners,they had no idea that half the restaurant had witnessed the sound track to their earlier performance.But ignorance is bliss of course.
Our starters arrived.
Pigs cheek,monkfish wrapped in parma ham with a passion fruit jus.Passion fruit.On Skye.Whatever next.

The pigs cheek was good,perfectly cooked.Sadly the monkfish had been cooked past the point of no return,not a drop of moisture left in it.
OD and Chef went for the beef fillet,I had sea bass.
The sea bass was OK.Garnished with deep fried leeks.Try eating these whilst maintaining a ladylike decorum.
'Are you keeping that bit for later?' said Chef...

The beef fillet was OK.Served with mash and a 'blue cheese mousse' which I tasted,I wouldn't have described it as mousse,it was rubbery in texture not very pleasant.Surprisingly,I forgot to take a picture of it.

To finish Chef and OD went for the cheese option,a selection of French and Scottish cheeses,of course with a snifter of Port.
I chose the 'very lemony tart'which I was advised could be adapted to accommodate my dietary problem.
This pudding did not work on any level.

The rubbery very lemony tart centre had been placed on top of a disc of overpowering sesame seed brittle.Surrounded by a cloyingly sweet whisky sauce.

'Personally I like my tarts with a bit of wobble' said Chef..
Perhaps its not fair to criticise a dish which had been altered to cater for a particular dietary requirement.
Its not often I leave anything.
Chef was underwhelmed.
'Do you know what was missing with that meal?'
Self:'What?'
'There was nothing fresh or vibrant about it'
We asked if we could have our coffee in the drawing room.

Petit fours

The monotone theme continued through to the petit fours.Madeleines,Turkish delight and Tablet which is a local Skye speciality,its a bit like fudge.They tasted nice.
Being a non coffee drinker,Chef declared a 'thirst like a dying man crawling out of the desert',at this point OD happened to be nosing around the bar and had spotted a couple of bottles of French lager in the bottom of the fridge which she pointed out to the waiter.He feigned surprise then begrudgingly served a bottle to Chef.
'You do realise you've nicked the Chefs private after service tipple'I say..
There was a charming senior couple already enjoying their coffees.It was a return visit for them,having enjoyed the luxury of Kinloch ten years previously.We chatted to them for a while before they retired to bed.
'Did you notice the lady was wearing pop socks?' said OD
'Yes, and yes I did spot that one was around her ankle' I say.
OD giggled.
'You'll be old too one day'I say.


On our return I thought Id have a quick look on Tw*tAdvisor, just to check out the general feel for the place.
I was hard pushed to find anything about the food which was other than complimentary ,though there were a number of gripes regarding the accommodation.(I learnt that the bathrooms for example are due to be upgraded soon).

It was a stunning location,the public areas were lovely to sit in and the staff were very helpful and friendly.
This place has a Michelin star.
Chefs eyebrows were raised.
Perhaps the food just wasn't to our taste.

The following evening we dined in another restaurant.As we were shown to our table we were amused to note the Conde Naste journalists and the Honeymooners seated at adjacent tables.
As OD passed the Conde Naste table and bid her hellos the Photographer winked and quipped
'We'll be in Ullapool tomorrow night,might we see you there too???...................'

A Day in the Life

Monday.
Mr Lavender and a Mrs Fennel reserve tables.

Tuesday
 Dr Slack and Mr Crack dine with us.
No joke.

Wednesday
Eavesdropped this 'conversation':
Wife:Its obvious the staff have done absolutely nothing since we've been away.I mean have you seen the state of the gardens?

Wife:(producing large filofax from huge statement leather bag):
'With our eldests' fourteenth birthday fast approaching, I've compiled a list of possible suggestions which you may or may not want to hear..'(delivered in forceful tone).

She then proceeds to tick off each item as she recites them to the husband describing in detail the programme and cost for each activity.
The husband never speaks throughout.

Wednesday(afternoon)
Take delivery of thirty jumbo tubs of Hellmans Mayonnaise.
Chef likes a bargain.
Hope he checked the sell by date..

Mayonnaise Fest

Note to Self: Remember to ask customers if they would like chips with their mayonnaise...
Thursday
(In a Michael Caine voice)Did you know....(that's Michael Caine the actor BTW,not to be confused with the well known and talented, similarly named Chef,Michael Caines..the one with the arm.. ) that fluoride is the devil incarnate and is responsible for all manner of ails including arthritis,cancer and Alzheimers?
Its because the metals build up in your body..
This poses far greater threat than the *other* poisons a teen may well ingest during the course of normal recreational activity.

Michael Caine the actor

Michael Caines the chef.

Mindful of this,The Apprentice procures himself (for the princely sum of £150)a Water Distiller, which takes around five hours to produce one plastic jug of water,all the while emitting an irritating constant humming noise much like an electric kettle in the early stages of boiling, but never quite reaching its climax..

Home Distillery

The distillery struggles to meet demand and gears up to 24 hour production,generating enough energy to heat domestic kitchen.Despite this, assured the cost to produce each jugful is a bargainous 60p.
This being the case,may well purchase one for each room and turn off the central heating.
Thursday(evening)
 Dismayed to discover that secret chocolate stash sited in the cupboard directly above the contraption has in fact melted in the intense heat.

Disappointingly non elliptical egg

The Apprentice exhibits no indication of concern that the rest of us gimps continue to sup the deadly tap version.
Well,every man for himself I say.

'Don't worry' says Chef 'Ill take the fuse out of it tomorrow'..


Friday
Wrap interview suit in leftover Christmas wrapping paper(reversed of course..what do you take me for?) and  post off to the Sensible One.
Send text message to confirm:
'Posted suit off should arrive tomorrow,make sure you iron it'
Reply received:
'I don't have an iron'
Speechless.


Self:'Would you like some horseradish?'
Diner:'Horseradish? No dear girl,semen of the Devil that stuff..'

Regular drinker: Hey Biff,I've bought up some blank headstones at the auction...if you're interested.Bankrupted stock.Twenty quid each.
Self:Really..
Regular drinker:Think of all the pressure it would take off your family. Normally go for a couple of hundred each.
Self:Blimey.
Regular drinker:I can get one engraved with a caption of your choice,and the start date.
Then all you need to do is fill in the end date later??
Self:..............................................

Saturday
Mayhem all day.
Minor scuffle breaks out in battle for stove space.

Those pans are spanking clean inside

Drinker:Hey Biff,is that a new fondue?
Self:Fondue?
Drinker:Yes fondue..hairdo?
Self:ERM yes...
Drinker:Its a country cut.Very Shire.Nice.
Self:Thanks
Drinker:Are you going to see the Queen??
Self:...........
Drinker:Do you think I could grow my hair into that cut?
Self:(Noting Drinkers less than abundant locks):Only if you're very patient.
Saturday (evening)
Late night Masterchef viewing via the convenience of Sky Plus.
'What are they all crying for' said Chef  'there's not even a cash prize at the end of it..'

'There was no cash prize at the end'
I might use that as my caption.

Indecent proposal.

We've been hiring staff.This is very stressful.
In an effort to maintain some sort of consistency,its always the aim to engage people who can commit to some sort of definite time period.
I offered a full time(ish) position to a very personable girl who I was informed was available until next September,which in this business is about as long as you can expect.
(I wish more people would look on hospitality as a career rather than just a stopping off point as there's so much potential to progress quickly due to the lack of applicants.)
The first week went well,then ominously prior to the second week of work we were informed that she was unable to work the whole of the following weekend.
Mindful of this, the rota for the forthcoming working week was finalised with new member of staff working only a couple of weekday shifts.
On the Monday evening Chef received a text message from new member of staff informing him that she was 'stressed due to her DRIVING THEORY TEST therefore would be unable to fulfil ANY SHIFTS WHATSOEVER FOR THIS WEEK..'
Well.
On the Wednesday evening,having covered the bar all day including for the graveyard shift(3-6pm)due to being dropped in the proverbial shite, all was not jolly.
Reiterating the tale to the evening staff who came in at 6pm, as to why we were one man down that night,our barman for the evening responded in the inimitable casual way only posh boys can 'oh,she MUST BE DOING SOMETHING THIS WEEK....'
Well.
I'm surprised he couldn't see the steam emanating from my ears.
'Doing something'....And I'm NOT doing anything....I suppose..'
Chef cooked me a steak at 6pm which I had no time to eat due to the sudden influx of diners and the absence of staff.The food shortage obviously compounded the situation,lack of food makes me angry more than  anything else..
As we were dashing around my peripheral vision alerted me to a small commotion over in the bar area.
Presently I went over to the bar to collect some drinks.
Posh boy was pouring a couple of glasses of Champagne.He gestured me over.
'Biff....Female Regular has just proposed to Male Regular....(extravagant hand gesture at the glasses)....hence the Champagne.....do I charge them for it??'

Normally I'm very generous with the customers,Posh Boy will be aware of this and will have known that I would normally have given them the champagne.But on this occasion Im afraid my thoughts were less than  charitable.Along the lines of: I've been on this farking bar all day since 9a bloody m,the last thing I need is posh boy telling me to give drinks away.
My response was short and to the point.
'Do I look like I'm getting married???'
I know.
This was disgraceful perhaps even shameful behaviour.

Next morning I was having a good old chinwag with slightly more mature/cynical barmaid about the events of the previous evening,paying particular attention to the leap year proposal.
Barmaid:'The day I propose to a man is the day hell freezes over..'
Self:'yes I know'
Barmaid: 'Smacks of desperation.....did she go down on one knee???'
Self:'Yes.yes I believe she did..'
Barmaid:'Aww,how undignified....'

We were still giggling as we opened the doors to the lunchtime diners,already politely lined up outside.
By 1pm we were heaving.
I was wearing a pair of linen trousers which were clearly intended to be worn with vertiginous heels,not my comfy flats, due to the surplus fabric flapping around and beneath my feet.
I hastily collected a tray of drinks:pint of Diet Coke,Pint of Landlord and a Cranberry(I'm looking after my waterworks) juice.
You will be familiar with the gender and demographic of your average cranberry juice drinker.
I think you can probably also see where this is going...
As I trayed the drinks over to said customers,I stepped on the three to five inch surplus train of trouser fabric,effectively and efficiently tripping myself up.
I took a nose dive towards the table.I wasn't exactly starfished, but from ground level I could see the cranberry juice splatted up the poor lady's American Tan tights.The unfortunate woman was expecting to be drinking not wearing it, but at least it was headed in the right direction,I thought.....
I was instantly transported right back to my school days, which was in fact the last time Id seen this particular shade of tight.At the time the favoured lunchtime recreational activity for the girls from the Bronx was to rip the American  Tan tights from the legs of the posh girls from the right side of town...
Are you wondering which side of town I'm from............?

'I wish you weren't providing a floor show for the customers' said Chef.

This was in fact karma.
Payback for my despicable behaviour the previous evening.
Next time the Newly Engageds come through the pub door there will be a couple of complimentary glasses of Champagne awaiting them.
Do you think this will be enough to restore Yin to Yang?

This week I nearly burned the pub down..(business as usual)

We had a bit of press coverage recently which effected a completely unexpected result.
Last Tuesday Royal Mail presented us with a large cardboard box.I knew immediately it wasn't a regular trade delivery as the box was clearly unprofessionally wrapped,the label handwritten and uneven,the contents carefully encased within a used Jacobs Creek wine box.
Mindful of Chefs' recent sortie to the photographers in order to obtain a suitable replacement driving license photo and the resultant less than flattering photo in which he(by his own admission)'looked like a terrorist',we opened the mystery package with trepidation.
A chamber pot.

The newspaper piece had happened to briefly mention that the pub housed a collection of chamber pots.Our mysterious benefactor having read said article,was spurred to donate her fathers treasured 'Gazunder' which she had inherited many years previously and had long been searching for the right person with whom to entrust  its care and whom she could be sure would love it as much as she had.
All the way from Cheshire.
I was touched.I may even had to brush a tear from my eye..
'I told you its better to keep a low profile' said Chef 'who knows how many more of these there are up and down the country...'
I had to agree, whilst one can never have too many fairy lights,there is a limit to the number of piss pots one can comfortably house.
Though they do come in handy at Christmas time...

Handy Decoration Holders

Next day,as we were getting ready for evening service,we noticed there was definitely a chillier nip in the air.
I we decided to light the third fire in the pub.
The one which we haven't bothered to light yet this year, having enjoyed a particularly mild winter.
Minutes later, it was drawn to my attention that something had caught light in the ash tray under the stove.
I cautiously peered around the corner of the dining room at the just lit fire, as the awful dawn of realisation struck.
It was a towering inferno.
I was immediately aware of what had happened.You see, in the absence of any real flames,and in the interests of creating the required ambience,we had been burning church candles in the empty grate since last winter.
Over a years worth of melted wax, three inches thick, encasing the whole of the metre wide ash tray had ignited.You will probably know that candles make excellent fire lighters these days due to their high paraffin/low wax content.
Initially,I tried to play things down,pleading ignorance,pretending everything was OK.
That it would burn out shortly.
No one was convinced,me included.
Presently,Chef appeared wearing his Davy Crockett style frontier hat(its cold in the kitchen this time of year) to investigate the commotion..then rapidly exited to view the chimney from outside.
Seemingly, the chimney pot was 'spouting flames and spewing sparks like a six foot Roman Candle' illuminating the countryside for miles around.
'Bloody hell' said Chef 'you'd better dial 999 STRAIGHT AWAY'
We were advised to place a fire-guard in front of the fire and evacuate the building.
No encouragement was needed.By this time the flames were licking out vertically from under the grate,then swirling furiously upwards.
Reader,the roar was like jet engine.Punctuated by the pistol shot cracks of metal expanding in the intense heat.
I thought the whole thing was going to explode.
The Apprentice,Wheels and The Chap were evacuated to the comfort of the pick up to watch proceedings from a safe distance,late afternoon Facebook sessions inconveniently interrupted.
Chef,myself and the one member of staff present, sheltered under the Well Known Cider Brand parasol  in the garden, to await the Fire Brigade.

Two engines with blue flashing lights arrived, half a dozen fire-fighters rushing down the steps to the pub,hoses in hand.Chef tentatively peered inside.
Would you believe there was only one embarrassingly tiny flame flicking pathetically slowly in the grate...

'I told you it would burn out..'I said.

'Better safe than sorry' said the poor fire-fighter who crawled around our attic in the dust with the heat seeking camera,just to make sure nothing had ignited..


You may be wondering what valuables we managed to rescue in the dash to safety,as we faced the very real prospect of all of our worldly possessions and indeed our livelihood being burned to the ground?
Some treasured family snaps? Jewellery? or perhaps even the cash drawers from the tills?
No.
In the melee the one item I chose to save and in fact still clutched in my grubby little hands was the recently gifted:
'Patent Non Splash Thunderbowl'.

'Unbelievable' said Chef.


Half an hour later as we sat  around the *other* fire(the safe one)sipping sweet tea to combat the effects of the aftershock and pondering the events of the evening,Chef broke the silence:

'Can you believe none of the locals came out to see what was happening??'

As if by magic,the Nokia tones heralded the arrival of a text message to Chefs' Builders brick.
From one of his Friday night buddies.

'Are you on fire?'

'Not any more' replied Chef.

Beam me up Scottie there is no intelligent life down here...

10 of the most annoying and frequently fielded questions.

I wish I had a pound for every time I'm asked one of these pearls:

1.'Is that the menu?'(pointing at the blackboard)
     No, its my shopping list for tomorrow.........


2. 'I'm not going to look at the menu, Ill just have a burger..'
     No you wont because we don't farking have a burger....


3. 'I have a dairy intolerance what can I have?'
    Protracted conversation .....followed by:
'Excuse me you've forgotten to bring some butter for my bread..'


4.(entering via the tradesman's entrance)'Are you open yet?'
     No..... that's why the front door wouldn't open when you tried it repeatedly and you had to make a circuit of the building in order to seek out  an alternative means of access.
   
5.'Telephone caller:'We're coming for lunch today-do we need to book a table??'
      No....but saying as you've already made the effort to pick up the phone and ring us you might as well give me your name and tell me how many of you there are,then I can keep you a table.....


6.'Is there another menu?'
    What?You mean a secret one that we don't bother to show anyone because we don't want to sell anything on it?


7.'What's fresh today?'
     Nothing. Frankly,its all  past its best and will pass through you like a bloody steam train if you're lucky..

8.'Can we sit at that table there?'(pointing at the table with the clearly visible reserved sign).
     Why not....I just reserved it for the hell of it.

9.'Is that *all* you have for vegetarians??Really poor show...'
     There are a choice of 8 main courses,of which one is vegetarian.Therefore one eighth of the menu is vegetarian.Were I to visit a vegetarian restaurant for dinner would I be given the same choice?Methinks not.*smug face*
   
10.'Haven't you got any scampi??'
     SCREAM...........

Outraged Pub landlady chooses Lucky dip wine then freezes Chablis for regular customer who absconds without paying..

Really old picture of a very nice bottle of wine

There are certain aspects of the hospitality industry that I really don't like.In fact at times certain practices can be downright unpleasant.
I heard of a practice other day that I hadn't come across in all my years in catering.
There's an independently run restaurant that serves really nice food and has quite a decent wine list.
Within the wine list there's a certain wine which although cheap at wholesale price(around £4) has been marked up to in excess of £30.
Its known as their 'lucky dip' wine.Though not lucky for the unsuspecting customer who inadvertently orders this particular slurp.
Now I know how difficult it is to make a food business profitable and I know lots of restaurants rely on wine sales,furthermore its obvious lots of restaurants sell the all wines on their list at grossly inflated prices right across the board.
The thing is people know about these places and they know wines at 'such and such a place' are a rip off.
The point is the wines are all rip off's, there's no cheating,no hidden agenda-these are our prices its up to you if you pay them..
However,to surreptitiously hide a single wine within a list at a massively inflated price amongst other fairly priced bottles smacks of trickery and deceit.It shows a complete lack of respect for the customer and in fact takes delight in their ignorance.Its left a very sour taste in my mouth I can tell you.I can imagine the sniggering behind the scenes when this item is ordered.
I've eaten in this establishment a few times and I have no idea which Bin is the offending bogey prize.
I wont be eating there again.

In other news,following the usual post Christmas recovery period, I've wasted too much negative energy chasing up an unpaid food account.
To be honest I'd forgotten about it until someone decided to have the periodical clear out of all the assorted messages and notes that systemically get stuck to our check board.
The bill goes back to last July.
The chap who owes us the money likes to think of himself as a regular.Visiting perhaps once a month,bringing various business colleagues for lunch, one of those particularly discerning diners who commands utmost respect due to his forethought in taking time to ring ahead  instructing us to 'put a couple of bottles of your finest Chablis in the freezer'.
On the day in question ,he was overheard mentioning to his companion that he'd forgotten his wallet.
'No matter I'm a regular here-my credits good'.
The conversation was relayed back to kitchen.
Chef tutted,'there's three of them there,one of his friends can pay'
After a leisurely lunch following which Cognacs and coffee were consumed in the garden,the usual 'gambling for the tip' charade was played out,which involves a member of staff calling heads or tails,at which point Mr Big Shot tosses a one pound coin,which you then scrabble around on the ground to pick up,if you win you get *drum roll* £20 tip.If you lose you get whatever coppers he has in his pocket.Without fail,EVERY member of staff despises this game.It makes them feel like they're begging for a Good Boy Chocolate Drop like some obedient little pet pooch and lets be honest,none of them is really feeling the need to acquire a wet nose and glossy coat.
By the time came for the bill to be paid,the afternoon shift change meant that different staff were in place.Mr Big Shot informed the member of staff who presented the bill that he had arranged with the lunchtime girl that he could come back with his credit card tomorrow to settle up.
Which was actually untrue but in theory would have been OK.

There's a  couple of good reasons why one should never give credit on food.
1.Food is a perishable item,so it goes without saying that once its been served/consumed there's no option to repossess the goods.
2.Running a restaurant is essentially a cash business.Dealing with small suppliers we don't ask for extended credit terms therefore by the time your meal is served we've more or less paid for the ingredients and will be out of pocket if you decide not to pay.
3.There comes a point after someone has consumed a meal,no matter how delicious it is,that the urge to go back for a repeat performance becomes less appealing than the call to pay the bill for a meal so long back that the memory of it is hazy at best.

Its no great surprise that we've never seen him since.Which actually in my opinion is tantamount to theft.

As it happens one of the girls had observantly spied Big Shot and his compadres departing in a van conveniently emblazoned with livery advertising a certain local business,which she duly noted.

Tip:If you plan to do a runner,its a good idea to either
a.use anonymous transport
or
b.park up around the corner out of sight..

I'm currently ringing the business daily in an attempt to solicit payment for the now outrageously overdue bill.

Chef summed up with usual brevity:

'If I'd have known he wasn't going to pay I'd have made him drink house wine NOT farking Chablis..'
Indeed...

Its a shame the diner/restaurateur  restaurateur/diner relationship isn't always equally respectful.Certain parties are giving all of us a bad name.

New Years Eve at Fawlty Towers

Regular readers of this blog may be aware of the traditional New Years Eve fireworks display at the inn.
I'm must confess to being a tad nervous about the wisdom of the whole operation, this year in particular the warning klaxon was deafeningly loud following Chefs return from the annual Christmas Eve trip to the fireworks wholesaler.
Seemingly, fireworks are graded with each additional point denoting an increase in explosive quality.My attention was drawn to one particular box which I was informed had it been 'one point higher' would be 'classed as munitions'.
The wholesaler(eyes gleaming) informing Chef that it would be 'like Beirut over *small market town* once that one goes off' and could he let him know how it went??
Anyway first things first:

Yours truly was in charge of puddings and Petit Threes.
The Pear and chocolate trifle took THREE Days to make.Well,not three entire days,the whole thing was made in stages over the course of three days obvs..

Pear jelly

Which set the pears poached in Calvados perfectly,despite the  copious amount of pear cider I added to the mix..

There was a slight worry concerning fridge space with every available orifice packed to the rafters in preparation for the biggest night of the year.
Chef had the bright idea that we'd pack the trifle glasses back into boxes and stack them up in one of the dessert fridges.
I required 52 trifles,10 diners having opted out and requested ice cream instead.
The glasses came in boxes of six so erring on the side of caution I went ahead and made 54=nine boxes.
I diligently counted and recounted them.
Come the night and with two tables left to go,I noted I was left with only 7 trifles.With a table of seven and a two, my razor sharp mathematical skills alerted me to the shortage...
No I cant be(frantically recounting),I definitely made 54....
There must be some left in the fridge..
There were none.Increasingly panicked I extended my search to further fridges,finally the missing box of trifles being located on the top shelf of the veg fridge.
The Apprentice having moved the box to accommodate his own prep work.(Every Chef will sympathise here,there's a constant kitchen battle for bench/stove/fridge space)
We all breathed a huge sigh of relief.Just the last minute vanilla cream and decoration to pipe onto the required two trifles and we were on the home straight.

I opened the box.
What The Apprentice had failed to mention was at which point in the preparation process he had taken the decision to transfer the box to its alternative location.
Which had in fact been two days prior...
If there's two things fundamental(and non negotiable) to a Pear and Chocolate trifle its pears and chocolate.These six were clearly lacking,in fact completely devoid in the chocolate department,having been rudely shifted following the addition of the vanilla custard(note non use of the term Crème Anglais)layer and prior to the chocolate sauce layer...

Chef was most displeased.
'That's an elementary mistake,not checking and double checking your quantities'
Though on observing my obvious distress and  look of complete devastation quickly countering 'its not the end of the world though...'

There's a code of conduct employed in the catering world on occasions such as this.
If you make a mistake and are lacking in a particular ingredient/component of a dish,what you have to do is make sure that all the dishes on each table look exactly the same.The same applies with glassware, cutlery etc,each complete table must look the same despite perhaps being different to the surrounding tables.
With nine guests to serve and only seven complete trifles it was obvious the two *different* trifles had to be sent to the table of two,hence leaving seven identical creations for the last remaining table,the seven.
Seemples.
Well, that's the theory anyway...

Completed trifles

This is where things went badly wrong.
In my guilt, I decided to compensate the two diners for the lack of a chocolate sauce layer,by being overly liberal with the chocolate squiggles and pear crisps which I'd made to decorate.By the time Id finished with these two they were the Katie Price and Peter Andre(on their wedding day no less...) of the pudding world.Its a good job Chef hadn't brought sparklers back from the wholesalers..
This had the opposite effect of drawing attention to the trifles rather than allowing them to blend in with the ones which had already been served to the other diners.
To compound matters,would you believe the two on the brunt of the pudding fiasco happened to be possibly the only teetotallers out on New Years Eve?
Furthermore,being fully Compos Mentis due to the lack of the benefit of even a whisker of an alcoholic beverage,and being the last but one table to be served,these two had fully enjoyed the opportunity of witnessing the rest of the diners being served with their puds and having ample time to take in the attributes of said pudding in its full glory.
Presently,news filtered back to the kitchen that Hercule Poirot and his missus were holding the offending trifles up to the light,brows furrowed in puzzlement at the lack of a promised (and greatly anticipated) chocolatey saucey indulgent layer.
They sent them back.
As luck would have it, the seven had asked for a brief respite before their puds were served so the seven complete trifles were still lined up and available on the bench.
'Just take two of those' I say despondently.. 'tell them there's been a mistake..'
There was nothing else for it I had to front up to the seven,confess my misdemeanour and offer them a choice of any other puds we had in the fridge.
I cut a sorry figure as I sloped off into the dining room,oven cloth in hand to face my retribution.
Conversely,they opted for the incomplete trifles,the two who were served the sub-standards were later overheard to say 'there's meant to be something missing from these but I cant see what...'
Sigh...

The Petit Threes went off without a hitch.
I cant stand Truffles, they make me want to barf,but I compliantly made 100 of the bleepers for the punters..heavily laden with Grand Marnier..

I always get the shitty jobs..

'You're so impatient' said Chef 'why didn't you wait until it had firmed up,then you wouldn't have been in such a mess??....'
Quite.
Chef said he could have eaten the Rum and Raisin fudge until he was sick.
I think that's a compliment...

Petit Threes.

Before long it was midnight, fireworks time..
Chef was stationed over at the far side of the green awaiting the shouted 'count down' which in fact served two purposes:

a.To whip the crowd up into a frenzied anticipation of the promised entertaining display and culmination of the evenings festivities..

b.The signal to light the fuse on the first box,thus heralding a spectacular display to welcome the New Year..

This short film begins immediately after the countdown...please be patient..

'I hope its not a damp squib....'

I told you there was more....

Next year its Sticky Toffee Puddings all round and a couple of Catherine Wheels nailed to the fence...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!