Hands off Chef!

Annoyingly,I've noticed the topic of menu plagiarism and even the possibility of copyrighting particular dishes,cropping up quite often lately.

But can a chef expect to have copyright over dishes which he includes on his menu?

Not many dishes are truly innovative.Almost every dish has been done before in some way,shape or form,lots of very similar combinations of ingredients brought together in slightly different formats and with ever greater technicality.Things go out of fashion,people forget about them, then the person who resurrects them perhaps with a *modern* slant is credited with inventing the dish.

The fact is there are flavours that go together and there a flavours that don't.If a flavour combination works then the likelihood is that at some point, some Chef somewhere has happened to notice this before. Any Chef genuinely discovering a brand new flavour combination truly has hit Chef Recipe Jackpot.

Q
A case in point:Sticky Toffee Pudding
The late departed Francis Coulson of  Sharrow Bay Hotel, Lake Windermere, is widely acknowledged with inventing this dish in the 60's/70's. But visit any pub/restaurant in the North of England and they will probably have reputedly the 'original Sharrow Bay recipe' included on their menu.Nearly every kitchen will have a chef who has worked with a chef who worked at Sharrow Bay ,at some point, or knows a chef who knows a chef etc,etc.The Chefs who have actually worked at the kitchens of Sharrow Bay are sworn to keep the secret recipe to themselves.(Obviously we do have *the* authentic recipe on our menu as Chef actually did once work with a pastry Chef who once worked at Sharrow Bay...)Actually randomly,Chef once cooked dinner for Francis Coulson...
The point is that similar pudding recipes can be found in many vintage cookery books.

Exhibit A

Vintage Cookery book-Post war containing recipes contributed by readers.
Note page 56:Recipe for Date Pudding

This recipe is practically identical to the Sharrow Bay recipe,the only noteworthy deviation is the use of 'best dripping' as opposed to 'best butter'.But,your average thrifty housewife living in post war Britain is hardly likely to be in a position to whack the household's full weekly ration of butter into one pudding..
So what is this recipe doing in a book published 20 years or more before Francis Coulson invented his famed dish?
The fact is all recipes evolve,different Chefs develop different variations taking ideas and inspiration from other recipes/Chefs/menus.
What Sharrow Bay actually did was reinvent old dish,breathing new life into it by coining a zippy new name 'Icky Sticky toffee pudding',thus bringing it back to popularity.They marketed it successfully and established a trend.

How about then Noma,recently voted Number One in the Worlds 50 best restaurants,Rene Redzepis award winning restaurant is seen as inspirational and cutting edge, bringing Nordic cuisine to the forefront.
A welcome move in the absolute opposite direction from the molecular gastronomy trend,Noma's cuisine is a step back to the roots of food,with more focus on vegetables,less protein and less actual cooking.Working with Food Historians to research old techniques and ingredients.So, though innovative in the sense that its not the type of food that has been served recently, if at all, can he really claim copyright(or would he even want to)?I don't think so,how can we be certain that Fred Flintstone didn't plate up a similar feast(well,perhaps not as artistically arranged) prior to fire and the cooking pot being discovered?And wouldn't he of course be eating a more vegetable based diet( and rutting around on the forest floor for roots,berries and leaves) because he didn't have the expertise to render some proteins edible? Interestingly he'd also be eating exclusively seasonal and local food.Exemplary.
Any Chef worth his salt now wouldn't be seen dead without the latest must have Cheffy fashion accessory: A Foraging Assistant. And perish the thought of admitting that you haven't physically gathered at least some portion of your menu personally,whilst preferably sporting a fetching Burlap tunic fixed with twine and flip flops fashioned lovingly from a couple of 28 day aged reindeer chops, all the while embracing ones inner self,at one with Mother Earth.The food you subsequently create thus elevated to an homage.


Please though,lets not regress too far into the realms of the raw,whilst a committed omnivore, biting the head life force out of a still moving prawn doesn't really blow my skirt up.Of course it will be the freshest prawn you've ever tasted,of course it will evoke 'essence of the sea',why wouldn't it? its still bloody alive.
And I bet Fred and Barney ate it once,out of necessity, before they thought up the only true innovation,fire and the cooking pot,that opened the recipe floodgates and set us on the journey which elevated us from other mammals.

Whilst  its unacceptable to nick another Chefs expression/personalisation of a dish in the written format(ie the method),or a brand name which I came across here,the idea of copyrighting ingredient combinations is wrong on so many levels.How can any Chef be so pompous as to think he can 'own' an ingredient combination??

Any Twanker Chef complaining about this is has surely missed the point.

I don't need to tell you what this is,but its playing JUST FOR YOU..




A few years ago before we had the pub,we owned a small restaurant.In the next village there was a hotel with a Chef/Owner.We used to eat there from time to time,the food was good.The Chef though didn't do much to ingratiate himself with his public.He actively sought out publicity and was unfailingly arrogant,once giving an interview to the local paper which contained the clunker of a quote that he was "educating people in the North East about what good food was". Insulting your diners in this way is not an overly salubrious method of customer retention.As a result Chef Manqué was always unfairly slated by reviewers and eventually sold up.
I digress,he never came to eat in our restaurant(clearly didn't want to give us the idea we were good enough to be graced with his presence) but would often send members of his staff on scouting missions.Obviously,we recognised them(donning swathed scarves and sunglasses indoors wasn't exactly conducive to inconspicuousness).Whenever they came we would ponder which dish from our menu would appear next on his.It gave us a laugh,obviously he rated our food(that or his ideas font had dried up), in any event his execution of each dish was always slightly different to ours.It gave us a warm glow and a sense of achievement to see dishes from our menu find their way onto his..


Isn't that the whole point of cooking? About creating flavour combinations that hopefully people will enjoy and if you're really lucky,will want to go away and recreate for themselves?

If they don't, then surely its a Big Fat Fail.

The idea of Dish Plagiarism is absolute bollocks.

I rest m'case y'r honour...

PS Startlingly,Noma(English meaning) is: 'a gangrenous disease caused by malnutrition'.
I'd still like to eat there though.

An Inspector calls.

Today, just before lunch service,a message came through to the kitchen that there was a gentleman caller here to see me.
I recognised him immediately,I wouldn't call him a regular but he does lunch with us from time to time.When accompanied by his wife he will partake of a modest sandwich and a cup of tea,as a lone diner amusingly his meal of choice will always consist of:Sausage and Mash, a couple of pints and a Bread and butter pudding.We always refer to him as Mr Bangers.You might want to make a note of that before you take the decision to make a particular favourite dish your permanent choice.
Below is a transcript of the conversation which ensued.

Mr Bangers:Hello.Just wanted a quick word.
(Directing me over to a discreet spot in the corner of the bar)
Self:Yes...
Mr Bangers:Well,a couple of weeks ago my wife and I came for lunch and both had a Ham and Pease Pudding sandwich,which we both really enjoyed.So last week my wife brought her friend for lunch and they both ordered the Ham and Pease pudding sandwich.The first time we had the Ham and Pease pudding sandwich there was at least 5mm of Pease pudding and three to four slices of ham.When my wife and her friend received their sandwiches my wife noted that there was no more than a whisker of a scraping of Pease pudding ,2mm maximum, and nowhere near as much ham as we'd experienced on our previous visit.This was very disappointing for my wife as she'd recommended the sandwich to her friend and indeed had made a special trip to here to experience it again.Very disappointing..

Self:Oh I'm really sorry to hear that,if your wife had just mentioned to one of the girls when she was here,there would have been no problem whatsoever in redoing the sandwiches and adding some more filling..

Seemples.

Mr Bangers:No...she shouldn't have to do that, that's not the point,(shaking head with vigour)I just wanted to let you know that there's a problem here(nodding and smiling self righteously)with consistency.....Yes, its just not there is it??? Just not there......

(No,far easier to make a special journey back to the pub at a later date to draw attention to the misdemeanour)

This is what I wanted to say:
Well, our sandwiches are all hand cut to order,the ham is cooked in our kitchen then hand sliced with a knife.The Pease pudding is also homemade.With all the will in the world there is no way that every slice of ham will be exactly the same thickness nor the Pease pudding spread exactly the same on every sandwich.If uniformity is your bag then perhaps you might just want to take a short sojourn down to Tesco and purchase a Ham sandwich there.I can guarantee the ham will be sliced so thinly that you will imagine it has been done with a razor blade,but more importantly each sandwich will have been weighed and passed through several factory processes prior to packaging.There will also be a sell by date which might mean the sandwich you consume may have been prepared 2-3 days prior.Yum.

This is what Chef said to me:
You should have told the bleeper he was lucky as we must mistakenly have been overly generous with the original sarnies.


This what I actually said:
No you're right.I'm very sorry.

I bowed my head contritely and walked the walk of shame back to the kitchen.

The Ham and Pease Pudding sandwich is £3.95

I didn't make this up.


PS The Beef Police have paid us another visit this week,again requesting an inspection of the raw product prior to ordering.Chef says its only a question of time before the beef passes the inspection,we go ahead and cook it,then they accuse us of surreptitiously cooking an alternative joint....
We've also had a visit by TWO Michelin Inspectors who chose to experience the Cotes de Boeuf for two.They did not inspect the raw product prior to consumption.

We're feeling a tad under the microscope this week. 

Vote now please,your country pub needs you!

I have a dilemma ,dear folk of the interwebs, I need your assistance.
But first,please be patient whilst I fill you in with a little background information.
During the recent the festive week,we gave ourselves a bit of a break from the kitchen,with no food being served at the Inn from Christmas Eve right through until New Years Eve.

To be honest, this year December takings have been down so drastically due to the prolonged arctic conditions, we really shouldn't have afforded ourselves this luxury, but we did, its a chance for us to do the bar and get a feel for what the customers are thinking. 

On Christmas Day we open the bar at lunchtime from 12-1.30pm, put out some tasty edible treats and offer everyone who comes,local or not,a glass of Champagne.Actually the Champagne(and I'm talking Champagne here,not cheap Sparkling wine) is on tap;-nobody buys any other drinks.Most make an impressive effort at consuming their own bodyweight in chipolatas before rolling home late and with less appetite than they should for their Christmas dinner.
We enjoy it,its a nice thing to do.

There's a regular who comes into the pub daily..he partakes of a couple of pints lunchtime and evening.He's quite good for the craic,a bit of a character.On Christmas Day he appeared as usual but refused to participate in the Champagne swilling ritual saying he 'didn't drink it'.
I sensed immediately there was a problem. I mean who the heck doesn't like gratis Champagne???

The Saturday prior to Christmas this chap had booked in with his extended family(fourteen of them) for his constitutional once yearly meal at the pub.I wondered if therein lay the problem.I asked him if he'd enjoyed his meal the previous Saturday.Yes, he said the meal was 'fine'..Hmmm not exactly gushing..I probed a little deeper..The floodgates opened forthwith...His intention was to give Chef a 'bollicking' as he had not seen fit to grace the dining room with his presence in order to socialise with his guests.Bearing in mind that we served over 100 covers that day,the chance of an exit from the kitchen,brief or otherwise, to interact with the punters certainly wasn't on the cards.The fact that this hadn't happened had clearly been festering with Regular Drinker all week.He was quite forceful in his view, in fact he was full of hell,irate even.At this point Chef wisely walked away from the conversation in the interests of preserving his buoyant Christmas Day cheer..
Unfortunately I wasn't as clever,I pursued the debate.I enquired if he had been looked after well. Yes he said the girls were 'very good indeed' but not the same as 'the owner'..
The actual words he used were he was: 'lacking the personal attention a regular customer should command'..
With difficulty I managed to contain my anger which was bubbling up assisted in part by the glass of lunchtime fizz I'd already consumed on an otherwise empty stomach.
I cant remember my exact words, the gist was along the lines of people coming here because they like Chefs food, not because they want to have a bloody conversation with him..I cant be certain,but I may have called him(eek) a snob..
To be honest I don't mind admitting that he may have hit a bit of a raw nerve here. Our initial plan had been for Moi to look after Front of house with Chef obviously in charge of the kitchen, the perfect business combination.. Over time its proved easier to find decent Front of House Staff than it has to find suitable candidates for the kitchen.
So gradually, due to the business becoming busier, I've undertaken increasingly more cooking, eventually ending up in the kitchen permanently, through default.The problem is I'm actually now too good at it,I'm fast at the service side which is essential in a pub kitchen(you can get unexpectedly hammered at any time),so as a consequence I like to think I'm a hard act to follow...
I wonder if Regular Drinkers expectations are a reflection now of the state of the industry.Most experts when asked will tell you that its impossible to run a food business without a public profile.Chef has always avoided (like the plague) any press activity, preferring instead to concentrate on what he does best.Cooking.
We've still managed to achieve a successful business.There are a lot of Chefs who take the first opportunity for an early exit out of the kitchen, whilst still running their businesses,inevitably the standard of food isn't consistent.
But maybe diners expect to canoodle with the Chef and be seen to be HIS FRIEND.Maybe they expect that now because they think it gives them kudos..maybe it makes up for any shortfall in the food stakes.Whatever the reason,the fact is that at some point every business has to prioritise,right or wrong, we've chosen the food as ours.
End of.

I believe Regular Drinker's issues stem from the way the pub has changed direction over the years,come inside and it still has the traditional pubby atmosphere,but without the food, in our rural location,it wouldn't be a viable business.For the previous owner the drinkers were the mainstay of his business,he had little food trade,as a result the business was deeply in debt.In fact we were asked to take over at very short notice prior to the sale being completed.So,contrary to being grateful that his local drinking hole has been preserved and indeed improved(we are now able to sustain six real ales on the bar instead of the previous three)whilst countless pubs up and down the country are closing faster than a camels ass in a sandstorm,Regular Drinker feels he's not as important as he was,he's no longer Top Dog.
I've been told that when I'm out of earshot,he'll often tell customers coming into the bar looking for food; 'Oh, the food's VERY expensive here'..
 On the plus side, he's stopped trying to call the shots by telling us what dishes we should be putting on the menu, that was becoming a tad tiring.

Over the three years we've been here, we've continued to stock a particular cask ale for Regular Drinker's benefit because he's been drinking it for fifty years.It costs us around £30-£40 per cask more than any of the other ales we stock partly due to the Progressive Beer Duty.We still charge the same price for this beer as we do for the others we sell,despite that fact that the other beers are in fact subsidising it.

Chef worked out that over the course of last year it had cost us over £5000 more to buy in this beer than one of the local ales.

(If that isn't personal attention I don't know what is...)

With the increase in VAT duty and also several other brewery increases which we've absorbed over the past year,we were well overdue an increase in prices.I knew Regular Drinker would kick up a fuss so made a point of letting him know *personally* today.He was predictably unreceptive,despite the fact that I reminded him that we were still cheaper than the majority of the pubs nearby.
His ungracious attitude has made me ponder what route we should take.
Shall we increase the price of his beer, charging proportionally more for it so that the other beers no longer subsidise it?Or maybe we should decline to stock it?

So, in the spirit of this Bulls Lug of a business model(which conjured up images of my youngest playing football as a five year old,when all 22 players would chase the ball around the pitch for 90 minutes like a swarm of bees, because they couldn't grasp the concept of tactics or playing positions),I'm interested to hear your feedback,so I've installed a couple of vote buttons at the top right of the blog.

Lines will close next Sunday at 7pm,votes cast after this time will not be counted etc etc...

Vote now please.Your feedback is important to us.

PS There wont be any profit share..

Play Foggy for Me....

We savour our Monday as its our day off and a well earned rest from the kitchen.We don't serve food but keep the bar open, more as a courtesy to the regular daily imbibers than any inclination that we may make a profit.
There's a group of three oldsters who meet up on a Monday lunchtime,they love Mondays because their chat isn't disturbed by the inconvenience of the incomer diners who ensure  the pub is viable. They're also assured of a seat at their preferred table by the fire.
For the sake of press privacy lets call them Compo,Clegg and Foggy.

Foggy,suffered a mild stroke last year and with the subsequent resultant abundance of free time whilst convalescing at home,he's become dangerously au fait with t'internet and social media and has just recently treated himself to the pinnacle of mobile communication.An i-phone.

Yesterday, on returning from our usual bracing walk with The Chap, I wandered into the bar to toast my ass at the fire and dry off my soggy feet,loitering for a while to see if there was any worthwhile craic to be found.
Clegg was more animated than usual,recounting with obvious outrage the sequence of nuisance phone calls which he'd apparently been receiving.He was planning to make a formal complaint to BT as lately the calls were becoming increasingly abusive.

What do they say? enquired Compo,intrigued,
Clegg: They're just abusive,rude and offensive
Foggy:Yes but what exactly are they saying??
Clegg:Its a woman she's just very insulting...
Foggy:JUST TELL US EXACTLY WHAT SHE'S SAYING..
Clegg:Well sometimes they're very late at night..

The other two visibly leant hungrily forward into the table, eager to take on board the juicy decadence of anticipated details.

Compo and Foggy(in unison):Yes....go on..

Clegg(enjoying the unexpected centre stage status his anonymous harrasser had brought him):Well,last night the phone rang at twenty past eleven,I was just getting ready for bed...

Compo and Foggy(again in unison and practically nose to nose) YES........spill the beans, Old Boy

Clegg:She said: 'Shame about The Toon tonight,pity you watched it,YOU OLD GOAT...'

At this point Foggy's pint beat a vigorous, hasty exit via his nostrils,catching Compo and Clegg full face with the boozy spray.

Foggy(several minutes later on regaining control of his faculties)You silly old fool,that was me!!It wasn't anonymous, didn't you know ? They give the number of the sender at the end...
Clegg:I didn't hear the end I was too busy telling  her to shut up.....

There then followed a protracted and involved conversation endeavouring to explain the minutiae and indeed the actual possibility of sending a text message from a mobile phone to a land line and the resultant automatically generated female voice which ultimately imparts the message to the recipient.This to a couple of outright novice technophobes, who were struggling to comprehend the concept of such an action.

In frustration, Foggy retrieved his prized i-phone from the deep reaches of the pocket of his tweed jacket.
'Look I'll send a text now to your land line'
He demonstrated,deftly picking out the required letters with fingers now nimble through frequent practice..'There its done'

The three of them sat there for a while in silence,contentedly sipping their pints, enjoying the moment, whilst pondering  the enormity of the newly acquired knowledge.

Clegg broke the silence:By the way,what message did you send?

Foggy:Oh just 'I love you'

As the fog cleared and realisation dawned,Clegg stood up,abruptly downed his pint and as he beat a speedy retreat to the door, shouted:
I'm off Nora's at home and she knows about the abusive calls...

Nora being his frail 76 year old wife who would no doubt have already taken delivery of Foggy's latest bombshell...

Sometimes I just love my job...

The Sorcerers Apprentice

I have some sad news.Brace yourselves. I'm sorry to report that The Apprentice's guest appearance in the kitchen came to an unfortunate untimely conclusion today,following protracted discussions regarding his dubious timekeeping.
We've learnt over the years that its very rare to find staff who excel in all areas of their job description.Some are good with customers,some very well organised,some proficient on the bar.The secret is to place people on their strengths,thus achieving a balanced and well rounded team.
There are however,certain aspects which are non negotiable.Turning up for work on time and ready to attack the job in hand is a fundamental requirement .Over the past three months the number of occasions the Apprentice has presented himself for work timeously can be counted on one hand.Sometimes its only been five minutes,other times longer,the point is nearly always late,mainly due to his inability to part company with his beloved bed.Which is a shame as he is actually good at the job.
I read somewhere that teenagers actually do physically need more sleep.

The Sensible One has been home from university over Christmas,what do you think he was looking forward to most on his return?A nice home cooked meal perhaps?Seeing friends and family? No, the thing he was looking forward to most was a 'good nights sleep in his comfy bed'.

Hmmm too much partying methought,but no, he likes to sleep with the window open which is optimistic in the centre of a busy city when being a country boy what you're actually accustomed to is complete silence save for the odd moo or baa.Seemingly the fire alarm goes off most nights and in addition he's been a tad unlucky with one of his flatmates.On first arrival at the shared accommodation on overhearing music emanating from a particular individual's room,and in the interests of extending the arm of friendship,The Sensible One approached the room in question and politely enquired what  the lad was listening to.
'I have Aspergers,go look it up on Wikipedia' came the response just prior to the door being impolitely slammed in his face.Unfortunately Aspergers boy goes to his room at around eleven each night and screams for a couple of hours..So a peaceful nights sleep was the order of the day for homecoming..

I digress,The Apprentice was informed last week that if he failed to show up for work on time again, his kitchen career would inevitably be prematurely curtailed.This morning he presented himself 40 minutes late.Chef was seething and informed him in no uncertain terms that his services were no longer required.
The thing that worries me most is that if he cant fall out of bed and into the shower then walk down the stairs to work and manage to arrive on time,what chance has he got of holding down a job in the real world?
I suppose you should never employ friends or family..
Following lunchtime service it transpired that the Apprentice had wisely made himself scarce and will no doubt be keeping a low profile until stormy waters have calmed.

With our now fastly burgeoning reputation as the Rose and Fred West of the culinary world due to our apparent inability to retain the youth element of our kitchen workforce, can I just decry this with the qualification that we do in fact have an excellent record of staff turnover.Most who come to work for us don't want to leave,one of the girls has just told us today that despite buying her round the world ticket (due to leave in Feb) she now doesn't want to go.Chef has told her she doesn't have to leave if she doesn't want to but I'm persuading her that she will regret it forever if she calls the whole thing orf..So that's another drama we've been dealing with...

In addition,having both picked up the Aprentice's workload today, bad kitchen Karma has resulted in Chef sustaining a very nasty cut which has required him to wear a surgeons glove on his hand all day.He never cuts himself.Not the best start to the New Year.

On top of everything else, I've had that disturbingly annoying Katie Perry song on the brain today,probably due in part to my giving an overly enthusiastic rendition of it at the top of my voice during the wee small hours of New Years Day following one or three well earned sherberts after service,you know the one:

Cause baby you’re a firework
Come on show ‘em what you’re worth
Make ‘em go “Oh, oh, oh!”
As you shoot across the sky-y-y


Whilst the Apprentice may not be a firework, he may well be shooting across the sky once my well aimed  toe comes into contact with the seat of his lazy arse..

Quite serendipitous when you think about it.....

Happy New Year from Up North

I thought I might give you a little flavour of our New Years Eve at the Inn.

First the menu

To start a glass of this

First Course:Veloute of leeks with roasted chicken

or Spanish meats with Manchego and roasted figs

Fish Course:Pan fried red mullet with rosemary butter and roasted fennel

The picture taking fell by the wayside at this point, due to things becoming a tad fraught,67 main courses of sirloin steak or rack of lamb to get out of the kitchen pretty much all at the same time..I did get a quick pic of the racks a la pan though,before the proverbial shit hit..

This is the bar just before midnight

And after we'd evicted the punters  to view the fireworks!

So here's the fireworks/how to watch the entire evenings bar profit go up in smoke,if I were clever I should have set this to some music perhaps a bit of Ravel or Vivaldi.But I'm not, so you'll have to make do with the banal background banter and idle chit chat.

What this video failed to encapsulate was the sight of Chef legging it after a firework missed his heed by inches,despite the instructions to retire to at least 50 yards safe distance.All of which I was blissfully unaware of being at a distance very secure from the threat of any danger myself,of course.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Brawn

Earlier this year we were invited to provide some recipes for a regional cookery book.Always one to keep his head down and get on with the job in hand(i.e cooking some decent food and making some cash),Chef greeted the news with dubious enthusiasm verging on outright contempt. When he discovered Id already committed to do it,I was greeted with an infeasibly highly raised eyebrow which momentarily faded into his hairline(and that's quite high BTW.....)followed by a nervous twitching around the corners of his mouth,obviously stifling a smirk; it wasn't long before I realised why.
Though we cook everything from scratch we never measure anything,which clearly is a fundamental problem when you're writing a recipe..Listing the ingredients was straightforward,but breaking this all down into an coherent written instruction with exact measurements, isn't as simple as it sounds.Not wishing to embarrass myself by providing the readers with a mouthwateringly tasty recipe which in practice didn't actually work(my pet hate), I spent bloody ages perfecting the recipes we eventually contributed(thankfully only three).Hence I have major respect for those recipe testers who do get it right.
Though we have a vast collection of cookery books which we dip into daily,making any savoury dish will rarely involve following the precise recipe but using simply as a reference for the ingredients.Most dishes are cooked and tasted with seasoning/ingredients adjusted as we think necessary.
Obviously baking (being a science) of course is the exception. Whereas cooking is an art......
Of the sleb chefs, in my experience a significant proportion of their cake/pudding recipes are pants just don't work.I have a theory that some of them sabotage their recipes by planting a minor booby trap adjustment just so that you cant recreate their perfect pudding at home,thus safeguarding their position of hierarchy.Culinary sheisters.Yes its you I'm talking to,YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
(NB One of the exceptions is Gary Rhodes,I know he may be a tad annoying to watch on telly, but his pudding/cake recipes ALWAYS WORK)
If we're looking for a traditional pudding recipe we tend to look to the older books.If you're using one of these, its best to follow the imperial measurements as the conversion to metric can sometimes alter the finished result.
This is one of my favourites,I found it a few years ago in a second hand book store.

Its a signed first edition copy by Maura Laverty who was an Irish author and playwright.
This is the old gal herself in a 1960 news cutting folded carefully into the cover of the book.

As a preface to each chapter there's an amusing little anecdote of old Ireland, from which I have gleaned almost as much pleasure as trying out the recipes:

'The Foley's were married nearly a year before Sheila discovered that a wife's first duty to her husband is to cook him the kind of meals he likes,and that no marriage can really be happy unless a man is happy with his table treatment..'


table treatment????,the mind boggles....in triplicate....
similarly:

He finished his pint.'Aye Indeed' he said 'A woman wont ever be happy till you let her see who's boss.'

Ahem...Cough....I think we'll just draw a veil over that..

I came across this recipe for Brawn in her book. My Grandma was partial to a  bit of pigs cheek and used to make this when we were very young, we would never tire of the sight of the pigs ears sticking out of the stock pot which always solicited prolonged sniggering.
Pigs Ears are one of those things that are just inherently very funny.A while back Chef had the bright idea that he would include crispy pigs ears on our bar snacks menu.I stumbled unexpectedly upon a surreal but very serious conversation he was having with the butcher on the lines of; 'Well..how many ears can you keep me in per week??'
Butcher 'well I can do you at least 60 pairs a week..'
I wondered WTF was going on..
Next day the sample ears duly arrived,each pair intriguingly connected by a thin strip of skin much like a pair of ear muffs.As soon as I clapped eyes on them I commented that there was no doubt in my mind that Chef would be wearing a pair before the morning was out.
He didn't let me down...

The ingredients in this recipe are few,lots of versions include carrots,celery, parsley and the like, I've made many different versions and have found this one to be actually very effective made in this way.Authentic,simple and true to its roots.
Its really the old version of ham hock terrine isn't it?


Maura Laverty's Brawn

1 Pigs Head
1/2 oz salt
1 wine glass cider
2 bay leaves
1/2 oz peppercorns
6 whole cloves
(That's cloves..talking of making a recipe idiot proof,a friend of mine once spotted this ingredient in a recipe and added 6 whole heads of garlic to the dish..)
Method
Prepare the head by cutting off the cheeks and ears.Put all ingredients in a heavy saucepan and add sufficient cold water to barely cover.Simmer for 2 hours or until the flesh falls away from the bones.Strain off the liqour into another saucepan and boil rapidly until it is reduced to 1 pint.Pick the meat from the bones,discarding any fat and gristle.Pack the meat into a bowl and pour over the reduced liquor.Leave to set.When cold and firm,scrape off any fat which may have settled and turn out.

*We line a terrine with cling film and wrap the brawn up,its easier to turn out and you can place a weight on top to compact,which also makes it easier to slice into portions.

P.S. This week I'm pleased to report the addition of a new word to my vocabulary.The word 'nu'(pronounced 'noo') is a teenage colloquialism usually employed as a greeting and can be paired with the word 'son' to form the greeting 'nu son'.
Definition: 'hi how are you/hows it going'.
I've witnessed three of my teenagers demonstrating this particular linguistic nuance when answering the telephone over the past week.I wonder if its exclusive to the Northern dialect..Have you heard of it???

Bah Humbug

This time of year brings out the worst in people.

Or perhaps its only this time of year that these particular people come out of the woodwork.Gawd knows what they do the for rest of the year,most probably sit in front of the telly planning the intricacies of  next years festive excursion.
We had the pleasure of the first exceptionally demanding Christmas diner today.With a party of five who by chance happened to be acquainted with another table of six people who were booked in at the same time.It was his idea the two groups should come together in the spirit of the season and dine together.Admirable.We asked if they wanted separate bills.'No' says the instigator 'just put it all on the tab and we'll sort it out at the end.'

During the meal he repeatedly made himself known and not in a good way.The type of person who asks for things when they're already on their way.Looking for problems and all the while feeling important because HE KNOWS YOUR JOB MUCH BETTER THAN YOU DO.
Towards the end of the meal he committed the ultimate blasphemy.He stuck his hand in the air and waved it around flag like until he caught someone's eye, then rudely gestured them over.This is tantamount to knocking on the bar for service but unlike the person who taps rudely on the bar for attention you cant pretend not to notice this particular performance.
'Can we order some coffees?' Note the absence of any polite P word.
Perchance,I happened to be out front on this occasion and had the personal pleasure of the summons.I was a bit peeved that the waiting staff hadn't offered coffees already.But they had.Two minutes prior to this.He didnt want them then, but now he did.
Quite an assortment of coffees,espressos, cappuccinos(all decaffeinated)lattes and for HIM a Macchiato,which I'm sure he only ordered because he thought we wouldn't know what it was.
(BTW Can someone please explain to me the point of a decaff espresso??)
I sent the first of the batch of coffees over,the cappuccinos and lattes.As the waitress put them down on the table HE piped up 'I ordered a decaff Machiato??'
'Well as you can see we only have one bloody coffee machine so we can only make 4 bleeping coffees at a time,so stop being so bloody impatient' 'Yes, its on its way' replied waitress.
I could hear this exchange from the coffee machine.For some strange reason I made the Macchiato last....
As his coffee was put down he asked 'is it decaff??'
Waitress: 'Yes its decaff'
Him : 'are you sure???'
Waitress:'yes its decaff'
Him:'Honest????'

Will someone just tell him to STFU?

When the bill was presented HE came swanking over to the till requesting that the bill be spilt into:
Food only, then split into 5/11 and 6/11,with the wine being added to the 5/11 and all other drinks added to the 6/11.Then (wonders never cease)a tip of 10% added to each.
So what he actually wanted was two separate bills,as discussed previously.

He stood over the girl who was trying to make this calculation,chipping in with the odd sarcastic 'is there a problem???'
If you've ever been in this situation you will know that even a simple calculation can become problematic in these circumstances.
He continued to invigilate over her then proceeded to instruct her as to how best to make the calculation,finally resulting with two separate bills.'Are you happy with that??'he said smugly.
A simple mental calculation on my part told me that the two revised bills did not add up to the amount on the original bill.
It was naughty but I kept schtum.
I knew he had erred in our favour, proferring a far more generous tip than anticipated.
There is a God..
I may refrain from posting on here over the festive period as I seem to have a dearth of Christmas cheer.

You see the trouble with customers is they are exactly like meals,sadly the bad ones are far more memorable...

The debacle of the Green Beef

I'm uncommonly disgusted and angry tonight.Probably due to a combination of unrelated but intrinsically linked incidents which culminated into one big time meltdown today.
I'm not normally tired.I don't need much sleep,I can manage on 5 hours per night with no ill effects.Having twins who were never in synch(still aren't)but woke alternately every two hours for the first two years of their lives was the perfect training ground to cope with my current status.
Once you get into a profession like this its all about the routine.Every good Chef has a routine which must be adhered to at all costs.Having a routine and being organised helps to keep the pressure from boiling over,if the routine is broken, devastation and chaos will undoubtedly follow.The routine is the constant which guards the fort from invasion from the enemy,the stuff you have no control over.The diners.
The routine means that even when you're tired you can function  because you know what to do without really thinking.
This last couple of weeks I've been off the treadmill due to the snow,the usual 16-18hour days have dwindled due to the shortage of customers. I've been lucky to have worked a 9 hour day never mind the usual.The routine has been unexpectedly broken so getting back into the usual flow feels a bit odd,in that I'm a teensy bit uncharacteristically tired.
So today, an incident which would normally have only effected a momentarily raised eyebrow, a heavy sigh and a despairing shake of the head had us both fizzing.

 Over the years we've both seen quite a lot of unsavoury practices in hotels and restaurants that would put you off dining out for life.Lots of them a result of pressurised situations.
Want to hear a few?
About 15 years ago I was offered a job in a 5 star country house hotel.I was a duty manager.Some of the practices I saw there were cringeworthy.There was a swanky cocktail bar where diners were taken to peruse menus and have a quiet drink or cocktail pre dinner.There was a pianist in the corner,thats the type of place it was.Every table had a silver plated nibbles receptacle containing peanuts,olives and cocktail onions.The diners would enjoy their nibbles then swan off to the restaurant for their meal.The nibbles would be left out on the tables till the end of the night.This was a place where the bar didn't close until the last guest went to bed,often 3 or 4am.Last thing at night the receptacles were collected in and the remaining contents scooped out and returned to large containers in the still room ready for recycling the next night.By the end of the night they looked sweaty and obviously you will know about men and peanuts..God knows how many times the bloody things were in and out of those containers.If you stayed there for a week chances are you hand your hands in the same peanuts every night.

In the same establishment old fashioned afternoon tea was served in the cocktail bar,one of the those posh treats that people bring their maiden aunts out for on Mothers Day.Served on a three tier stand.Dinky cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off,home made cream cakes, scones and preserves served with FRESH CREAM.All the stock was brought up from the kitchen on a trolley and stored in the still room at the side of the bar until required.The cream was in a sealed container and was portioned into individual ramekins as needed.The first day I was there I noticed the cream was being served the way you prepare a soufflé for the oven.You know when you flatten the surface with a palette knife then run your finger around the rim of the ramekin to help the soufflé look tidy as it rises.I strolled into the still room to see who was responsible for this unusual presentation style.The perpetrator was a chap who had originally began training as a chef then had decided Front of House was his forte.He was a barman.I watched him slowly run his index finger around the rim of the ramekin,then stick his finger (practically down to the knuckle) into his mouth lasciviously licking to remove any excess cream, prior to moving directly on to the preparation of the next unfortunate ramekin....Nooooooooo.Obviously I stopped him,but he'd being performing this procedure every afternoon for 6 months...

Then there was the place I worked where the Chef was filthy,an alcoholic and smelled of death permanently,his Sous Chef was a nice enough lad but sweated profusely, probably due to the increased workload he endured as a result of the Head Chefs permanent dysfunctional hangover.When he was under pressure there were always unfettered beads of sweat running down his forehead following the outline of  his nose and slowly plinking, slow motion into the dish he was preparing.It was hypnotising.I never ate anything there in the two years I worked there.
The diners never needed any additional salt on their meals either...

On another occasion at a very good hotel as I was waiting at the pass to take some meals, something in my peripheral vision caught my eye.I saw the Chef de Partie who was doing starters drop a cooked Quail on the floor,glance furtively sideways, then pick it up,dust if off with his oven cloth,then go ahead and compile the finished dish.The Head Chef clocked this at the same time that I did.It was a Saturday night,the kitchen were up the wall, checks were piling on and tempers were frazzled.The proverbial wire was about to snap.Cooking another dish would have meant discarding the rest of the starters(which were ready to go) and the main courses which had already been put on to cook to coincide with the starters being finished.This restaurant had 2 rosettes.The Head Chef knew Id seen it.It was face off at the pass.He held my gaze steadily and through gritted teeth,lips unmoving in a straight, thin white line hissed 'if you don't take it they'll have to wait another 20 minutes and the whole of the rest of the night will be a total f**k up and it'll be your fault and YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WILL TAKE THE FLACK'
I took the quail to the customer.The only defence I have is I would rather have eaten the quail than the cream with optional extras...


So,when we opened our own business we made a promise to each other that we would never compromise or send any food which didn't meet our required standard or more importantly that we wouldn't eat ourselves.
Over the years we've stuck to this despite the problems it can cause with delays etc if anything goes wrong.
As I've mentioned before I'm a bit Howard Hughes about hygiene anyway,probably because of all the stuff I've seen in the past.
Anyway,today a couple came in for lunch and ordered the only dish which we always have on the menu.Its a Cotes de Boeuf.A beef rib served with chips,watercress and Bearnaise sauce.Quite a standard really but its one of our most popular dishes.
When the waitress took their order they said they wanted to inspect the raw piece of beef first to "see if it was marbled to their satisfaction."
'WTF is going on' said chef...Begrudgingly he cut the single rib from the joint and sent it out into the dining room on a silver platter for the diners to inspect.

At this point my Howard Hughes tendencies kicked in..'what if they decide they don't want it and send it back after THEY'VE BREATHED on it????'
A couple of minutes later waitress returned with the affirmative nod to go ahead and cook.It met their meticulous standard.
We both trundled around for a while muttering in unison about the audacity of it all.
When the beef was ready to be served we vented our frustrations by standing in front of it and repeatedly giving it the 'V' sign until the waitress collected it.It was a lovely bit of beef and didn't deserve this, but it made us feel better.

When the dishes were cleared the exacting couple were surprisingly complimentary about their meal.It was proclaimed delicious..'Much better than the last one we had here which was GREEN..'
When this information filtered back to the kitchen we were livid.
'That's the last bleeping time I'm sending raw bloody meat out there to be inspected..what the heck do they think they we're doing..this isn't one of those places where there's half dead lobsters swimming around in a bleeping tank slowly eating themselves from inside, waiting for some unfortunate diner to save them from a fate worse than the slow death they're currently suffering...' said Chef..
(Not sure what the relevance of that was...)

Sometimes you have to draw the line.Availing raw ingredients for inspection by ones diners prior to it being cooked isn't really a feasible option.At the end of the day we are a pub,not a bloody zoo.

There's only one question Id like to ask. If you'd been served a piece of GREEN meat would you really want to return to that establishment for a second helping??

I'm so bloody disgusted I might actually move to Tunbridge Wells.

Chestnuts roasting on a open fire,Jack Frost nipping at your... nether regions.

We've been busy despite the snow.Though not with customers.Christmas decorations are up,the place is nipping clean,to be frank,you could eat your dinner off the floor if you were so inclined.

I had a vision of the beams becoming a starry sky,well stay with me here,yes I know they're red,maybe in practice a starry Mars sky.Working on the premise of course,that one can never have too many fairy lights.

We've battled constantly with frozen water-pipes in the kitchen,which has kind of hampered progress, problem finally solved by placing blow heaters strategically in front of the of affected areas and impatiently waiting for the thaw.

There's another seasonal problem which has been giving me far more cause for consternation this week.
The Gents loos.Actually the title 'Gents' is flattering in the extreme,the sign on the door boldly decrees MEN.It takes stoicism to persevere with these but they're a bit of a feature now and they've served well since 1850(I know that because some thoughtful brickie carved his initials and date in the pointing).Besides,I have another far more important reason to retain them...
The man from Michelin paid us his first visit only a couple of months after we arrived here three years ago.In his post repast 'chat' he sneeringly suggested that we might want to do something about the unconventional toilet facilities.In fact he wasn't complimentary at all.He actually told us that the only reason people would come here was for the food .What a bloody cheek,I mean I thought that's what they were meant to be inspecting??So much for surroundings and other associated luxuries only coming into play at 3 Michelin star standard.
Chef smiled through gritted teeth...'I suppose he prefers to inspect the swankier places down the big smoke..Knob'.
So since then we've been determined to hang onto the Thomas Crappers and retain our entry in the Red book.

Known locally as Ice Station Zebra,you have to be a hardy sort to avail yourself of these conveniences during a Northumberland winter.Last year, I decided to give the lads a bit of a treat,we installed a heater and attractively tiled the walls and floors.I confess I did have an ulterior motive,the floor being concrete and concrete by its very nature being an absorbent material and men being inclined to leave their calling cards on the floor, you can imagine during warmer climes the place did generate quite an odoriferous whiff.

Anyway back to the thing which has been narking me somewhat.
The chaps have been leaving the toilet door open,which kind of defeats the object of the heater.I mean were they born in a field??Yes probably.
So,last Friday I pinned the following cheeky but(I thought) humorous notice on the door in the hope it would grab their attention invoking the desired result, ie a closed door and a welcome absence of pee on the floor.

But no, the door is still left wide open,and to add insult to injury tonight I found this note pinned underneath my notice.

Some people just have no respect.....

PS Couldn't resist showing you this picture of the shed during last weeks blizzards.I wont be going in there for a while..

Variables, winds and snow from the North

A picture of the wintry landscape perfect illustration of one those unpredictable variables I was telling you about previously.Its the morning view from our window.

Always one for a challenge,Chef convinced me to venture out for a little sortie in the 4 x 4.We boldly went where no man had gone before,well not before the snow plough came round anyway.
Resulting in a veritable drought of customers,we're  haemorrhaging cash, business currently as brisk as a Mr Whippy at the North Pole.
So I've been at a bit of a loose end.Chef advised taking advantage of the unforeseen respite and suggested a welcome bit of relaxation and rest.Difficult for someone who finds sitting still so problematic that she hasn't been to the cinema for around 20 years.,.(actually that's a lie, I have been once, last year in Singapore which was a completely surreal experience which I might tell you about at a later date).
I needed a project.I've been wanting to have an attic clearance since we moved here three years ago.Last Saturday I tackled the job.
I uncovered a treasure trove of old books which kept me up there for about 8 hours..
Second hand book shops are my guilty pleasure, which is slightly weird as I'm a bit  Howard Hughes with library books,probably since my Dad told me not to get books out of the library as YOU NEVER KNOW WHO MIGHT HAVE SNEEZED ON THEM..
No matter,I'd struck old book jackpot with this find.
I've picked out a couple of loosely on topic gems for your delectation and pleasure.

A 1947 copy of A book of Inns.Mostly South Eastern Inns,gawd knows what this was doing in a rural attic in Northumberland..The pic on the front is the White Lion Hotel at Eye.Its now White Lion House:

  'Looming over the small market place is the extensive rendered frontage of White Lion House, which until 1987 was the White Lion Hotel. Now divided into houses and flats, the gateway into its yard has a unique arched sign above proclaiming a ‘Posting Establishment’. Next to this, in the hotel’s former off licence, is a secondhand bookshop, the unambiguously named Eye Bookshop' Suffolk Tourist Guide.

Sadly I'm sure many of the other Inns featured will have suffered a similar fate..
Found a nice little bit of prose in here which I might use on the web site.It seems to be a bit of a trend to do this doesn't it? Or do you think that's a bit naff?They're usually Hilaire Belloc quotes.
Anyway this is a William Combe :

'Along the varying road of life
In calm content,toil or strife,
As morn or noon,by night or day,
As time conducts him on his way,
How oft does man by care op'ressed,
Find at an Inn a place of rest?'


Unless they've been converted,to apartments of course..

Next up(in the manner of X factor)its:Helpful Hints for Sommeliers and Wine Waiters.

The stylish medallion our handsome model is sporting is known as a 'tastevin'.An historical tool of the trade which was latterly worn as a Medal of Honour to denote Sommelierly status, I've yet to see a wine waiter wearing one of these.If you ever do you might just want to shoot them Id love to hear from you.Actually I've found one for here it'd look perfect with a LBD and some vertiginous heels.Ideal teamed with the silver plated Crumber which I was gifted many years ago by a work colleague.Just what I'd always wanted..
Couldn't date this book but there's a section on food matchings,the wines are exclusively French, no sign of any New World vinos.

Going off subject here its:The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayam.

A 1914 copy inscribed on the inside cover: 'To Miss Fletcher with love from PSD. 1, Sept 1923'

.How mysterious and polite,very Downton Abbey..I wonder what happened to them.What a treat:



'Awake!for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the stars to Flight!
And Lo!The Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultans turret in the Noose of Light'


I'd swap this for the Crumber any day....

Finally(something for everyone)a 1938 copy of Harrow School Song Book.

Rousing stuff.Nowt like a good sing-song in times of hardship and adversity.
Actually this made me feel a bit teary due to the inscription and photo on the inside cover from a dashing naval type named Martin,signed to Dorothy.

 And then on the next page a photo of them on their wedding day..

And you thought I was all dissing diners,double entrendres and diatribes..
Normal service will resume in the spring.