Tw*tadvisor have informed us that we're to receive a Certificate of Excellence! Could it be something to do with us being Numero Uno of Numero Uno outlets in the village d'you think???
Uncannily there's also been an unnerving clutch of complimentary reports so I'm steeling myself for the stinker which must surely come soon..
The finer weather seems to have lifted everyone's mood somewhat,we've had a steady flow of tourists who've helped to swell the regular numbers and most have been surprisingly pleasant.
We had a Yorkshire family who cannily came for lunch the other day with the ulterior motive of checking out the menu prior to booking in for an evening meal.You will know that no self respecting Yorkshireman parts with his cash on a blind booking without checking out the compatibility of the menu a.to his taste and b.to his purse.
Having partaken of a couple of cheese sarnies the booking 'proper' was made for the following evening.A bit like the Queens official and unofficial birthday celebrations.
As they were seated the elder of the two gents scanned the blackboard menu,his eyes narrowing as he squinted to gain a better view.
'There's no chicken on there'
'Yes that's right'
'But there was chicken yesterday..'
'Our menu changes daily,so no we have no chicken on the menu today'
At this revelation he effected an exaggerated loud intake of breath whilst simultaneously shaking his head in disapproval.
I ignored this display and continued with the drinks order.
In due course the order was taken.
Presently,as I attempted to deliver Sirs well done fillet,and before the plate had touched cloth so to speak, the fellow raised his hand and said:
'No that's not mine'
I was aware that he'd ordered a WD fillet so this kind of threw me momentarily.
'Your WD fillet Sir?'
'Thats a rump-I ordered fillet'
'Yes that is fillet ,WD as requested'
I placed the plate in front of him.
'No thats not fillet its not the right shape,its definitely a rump'
'Im sorry but it is a fillet,WD as requested'
'I KNOW what a fillet looks like,I saw one served here yesterday-its the wrong shape,that's definitely not fillet'
I attempted a refutal of his claim.
'Well actually not all fillets are exactly the same shape,we buy ours from a small local butcher not a catering butcher,so not all are uniform in size,the size of the fillet will depend on the size of the beast..they are sold by weight not shape...accordingly the bigger the beast the wider and thinner the cut will be'
'Im not paying 23 notes for fillet when it looks like rump'
I reached over to take the plate away.
'OK i can see that you're not happy-can I get you something else instead??'
This individual was now displaying advanced characteristics of Small Dog syndrome,he was like a bloody terrier with his teeth between the bit.
|Don't mess with m'food..|
He grabbed the plate as I attempted to remove it.
'Leave that where it is,I AM HAPPY I will know immediately I cut into this if its fillet....'
I overheard his daughter trying to reason with him
'Dad what you're looking for is the texture and taste not the shape..'
He chuntered on throughout the course of the meal on the lines of 'yes it is tender but it doesn't look like a fillet' with regular reports of course filtering back to the kitchen.
Chef was not amused.
In actual fact the thinnest fillet had been selected due to the required cooking being Well Done.Whats the point in wasting a nice thick one ideal for rare cooking when the final result will be exactly the same?
In usual style Chef helpfully advised telling the fecker to 'get out' then compromised on 'tell him to STFU or call Trading Standards in and let them sort it out..'
When I went to clear the plates I noticed that Sirs plate had been completely cleared.
'Did you enjoy that?'
He begrudgingly muttered something on the lines of 'it was tender but it didn't look like a fillet'
I sighed and conceded defeat.
There was no gratuity,but this may not have been a reflection on the food,only the mindset and generosity of the customer.
Synchronistically,there was another steak incident on Friday night.
Hearing the ktichen bell ringing frantically signifiying an order was ready to be sent I presented myself for duty.
'Table 8,One rump,one pork' said Chef in monotone.
'Table 8 already have their meal' I said
'No they don't,thats their food there under the lights ' said Chef.
I was fully aware that Table 8 were already troughing on their meals as I'd just taken them a couple of top up drinks.
I stood still taking stock, scanning the checks and wondering if Chef had finally lost the plot and his supreme grip on proceedings.
I dashed out to have a quick look at Table 8-they were indeed troughing furiously.
I returned to the kitchen to impart the bad news,perish the thought that Chef had cooked duplicate meals on a very busy night.
But alas,this wasn't the case,his reputation remained intact.
At this point The Blonde appeared,head in hands.
'Ive taken Table 10's food to Table 8..they were having the same meals...'
'I thought Table 8 got their food quickly ' I said helpfully.
At this point Chef interjected;
'Well not quite the same meals...Table 8 were meant to have rump steak,Table 10 ordered fillet..'
I wouldn't say the air in the kitchen was blue at this point ,but I did have an overwhelming urge to grab the anti bac spray and and a bit of blue roll and give my ears a quick disinfection..
Later,as I cleared the plates from Table 8 the guy on the receiving end of the fillet posing as rump,was glassy eyed.
'That was wonderful,the best rump steak I've ever tasted,thankyou so much..'
He was gazing up at me in adoration,I thought he was going to have a When Harry met Sally moment.This was not helped by the knowledge he then imparted that his father had owned the pub in the 70's and he was so pleased to see it was in good hands and the ensuing mental image I had of the father whom Id been told many times before had a predilection for shagging the waitresses over the hot cupboard after service and had regularly burnt his old leather shoes in the fire when things had got tough over the winter months.Oh and the famous catch line:
'Money for old rope old boy..money for old rope..'
Which was ironic considering he lasted eighteen months before going bankrupt..
All of which of course the son will have been blissfully unaware..
'Well' said Chef 'Isn't that great,he's going to be back next week with a minibus full, all ordering rumps and being woefully disappointed when they don't live up to the fillet..'
The Blonde reappeared looking distraught.
'I feel terrible..I never make mistakes...'
This is the girl who starts each shift by briefing her fellow workers with the line:
'Listen up you lot...there ain't gonna be no detrimental TA reviews on my watch..'
Chef was uncharacteristically sympathetic.
'Dont be silly...everyone makes makes mistakes..'
'Really?' said the Blonde with incredulity,mouth agape in disbelief.
'Yes' Chef continued 'even Me.....the biggest mistake I ever made was employing you..'
'Nice try' said the Blonde 'but you didn't employ me-Biff did.And I know exactly why she employed me..'
'Why's that then?' said Chef.
'Because she liked my Peter Pan collar...' said the Blonde.
This is indeed a TRUE FACT...
|The deal clinching Peter Pan collar.|