Four years – but it hasn't been boring

AS THIS is my final diary, I should round off my contribution with some important conclusions from my four-year stint here thus far, but I can't think of any.

The majority of my time has been spent worrying over trivia, peeling and boiling things, and hoping that the amounts of food bought and prepared will coincide with the orders taken in the dining room. It has rarely involved pondering the meaning of life, gastronomically speaking, or creating a raft of brilliant new dishes to dazzle the punters.

Luckily, the decent level of trade has meant that I have had no truck with meddling bank managers either - or sleepless nights over unpaid bills. This is probably the experience of most chefs and restaurateurs. The extra dimension for me has been the influence of diners on whether, at the end of each day, the work has been pleasure or pain.

The atmosphere in the restaurant affects morale for Anja, Claire and myself more than we usually care to admit, and I have no clue as to how we achieve a "contented buzz" on a routine basis. I suspect that it is a benevolent conspiracy between us and those eating to have a good time.

If I had supernatural powers, I could insist that only persons who are going to enjoy the experience were at table each session, so that all the cooking and service could be perfect for them.

A quiet night midweek in February can be painfully hushed, with three or four couples who have no conversation clinking their cutlery through an unduly speedy meal, whereas a summer Saturday can see us straining to remain sane as all tables pitch up simultaneously and what passes for a system here starts to creak at the seams. But it has not been boring.

My accountant says we are making a profit but we would be making a much better one if I were to spend a little less on the victuals and a little more on tax-friendly pension schemes.

Luckily, however, it is not my intention to retire and I am expecting to cook right up until my liver packs in. Anja claims that her feet will give up before old age sets in, after which I expect she will keep an eye on us from a stool in the corner. Presumably, Claire will decide to get a proper job at some point.

Until then we remain, as ever, ready to take your money any time you are passing Ludlow. Cheerio. n

Shaun Hill is chef-proprietor of the Merchant House, Ludlow, Shropshire

l Look out for new diary writers in 1999.