A society host
Polished, suave and urbane, Glynn Woodin is the doyen of private and corporate caterers, noted for his considerable style and unfailing ability to "get things right".
For the past decade, royalty, aristocracy, the super-rich and captains of industry have flocked to his door to ask him to put the gloss on their parties.
It is odd, then, to discover that Woodin's Mustard Catering premises are at the Oval, an unglamorous, grubby part of London. The office forecourt is bristling with scaffolding and trucks. Inside, racking climbs the walls, baskets and boxes crowd the floor, the kitchen is the usual all-stainless. It's very utilitarian: no style, no glamour.
By contrast, Woodin's own office is a shock: a tiny, windowless burrow transformed by stapled green baize, antiques and oil paintings, which give the feel of an English gentleman's club.
Woodin perches on a pink camel-back sofa beneath antique shelves twinkling with glass and silver and flanked by natty little curtains.
Brass lamps glow and the air is heavy with aftershave. "I was dying for you to arrive to have some coffee," he says.
His velvet-and-honey voice is deferential but firm, and a wicked sense of humour breaks through the pinstripe from time to time, countering any sense of formality or stuffiness.
Despite the Englishness he purveys, Woodin comes from a South African sheep-farming background and was born and brought up in Cape Town.
His flair for entertaining came to light at university. He claims it was starvation-driven. "All my money was going on hunting and showjumping, so I learnt to cook and entertained at home. I loved it and became known for my interesting parties." He went into banking and in 1977 moved to London to join the Stock Exchange. "It was rivetingly exciting," he recalls, "but really I was looking for what I'm doing now. I have a fascination for food and organisation."
First step was to set up Mrs Payne's Party Specialists, cooking and organising parties. In 1980, a South African friend, Jack Bernstein, bought Mustard Catering and Woodin joined him, merging the two companies.
It was perfect timing. The era of lavish parties was about to begin. He recalls wistfully how budgets were not even an issue. "Clients would say what they wanted to do - fill the whole place with flowers, two bands, masses of people to dinner - then ask what it would cost.
"Now they ask what they can get for £30,000. I spend all day trying to get £40,000-worth of party out of £30,000. They want a quality product, but value for money. It's difficult. I have to rethink everything, trim the trinkets and trifles, without dropping my standards."
Woodin's standards, those of a rather grand private residence, include all his own table settings for up to 500 and a vast selection of table presentations.
His stores are a revelation: countless pink linen Colefax & Fowler cloths at £220 each, damasks in every hue, velvets, French grey moire for a château party, strawberry-embroidered cloths for a summer event and indigo silk topped by deep blue plates for Kerry Packer's daughter's wedding.
Then there's Royal Crown Derby at £55 a plate (enough for 250 settings), hand-made Scottish serving platters, classic gold and turquoise-edged dishes, silver-crested water beakers, early Chelsea design wine glasses, boxes of antique candelabra and shelves of replica Georgian decanters.
Last December, Woodin bought out Mustard's remaining shareholders ("they were exhausted, the burn-out factor is terrible") and is now sole proprietor.
This month he's taking his first step into the restaurant business, providing the catering for Mayfair china supplier Thomas Goode's new restaurant.
He dreams of handing over the reins to his four departmental managers - "my boys" - and taking a slightly more back-seat position as chairman.
Outside of work, Woodin rides and returns to his farming roots by keeping bees in the garden of his Clapham flat.
