Going home with a tart every day
Claire Crosby, who represents one-third of the Merchant House's entire personnel, is much better with the customers than either Anja or myself. She isn't unduly upset by dim comments or 1,000-year-old jokes from those who have imbibed a touch too much, and appears genuinely pleased if those dining have enjoyed themselves.
She is most mystified, however, by people who congratulate her on being able to eat our grub every day. Like most in our trade, we eat our version of a staff meal. We eat quite well, in fact, and I take some pains over it as I don't like to eat packaged or carelessly prepared grub. But we don't tuck into lobster and the like.
The only day on which Anja and I eat a restaurant-style meal is Sunday. Then we consume whatever food is left over from Saturday and which in my judgement will not last until Tuesday, when we reopen.
If there is an unpopular dish on the menu for any length of time, then we will become very familiar with it. Perhaps this will hasten its replacement, which may not be a bad thing, or concentrate my mind when ordering supplies, which also may be advantageous. Aspects of those put me in mind of my early days as a chef.
What seems like hundreds of years ago, I worked for food writer Robert Carrier in his eponymous Islington restaurant. It was a very fine spot in its day, and served a four-course meal for what was then quite large amounts of money.
Among the choices of second course there was always a tart of some description - normally a small quiche flavoured with spinach and ricotta, or maybe with smoked salmon and chives. We cooked a tray or two of these for each service and never reheated them, disposing of them once they were cold.
The wages at this renowned eaterie were poor and so my family and myself lived off these quiches on a semi-permanent basis.
As I sat on the last Tube train homewards each night, it was easy to spot other catering workers heading back to the nastier suburbs - not just by the pale greasy faces and Elastoplast-covered fingers, but by the small kitchen-foil-wrapped parcel containing next day's lunch.
Possibly a fair number of these people had the wit, or the cunning, to retrieve a more balanced diet than myself. However, it still stirs the odd memory of interminable spinach tart when I see that it will be squab pigeon or lamb once again for Sunday dinner this week.
Next diary from Shaun Hill will be on 25 June
"We often hear of trains being cancelled due to staff shortages. If there really is a skills shortage within our industry, why do we never see restaurants with notices on the door stating: ‘Sorry, closed due to lack of chefs'?"
This was the opening question at the recent workshop I attended, held by the graduates of the Lausanne Hotel School at the Reform Club.
At Spaggo's we've come close so many times - especially recently - to closing the door and doing just that. How many times do we have to shout that there is an enormous skills shortage? and how many independent restaurateurs and hoteliers will go out of business before the Government wakes up to the fact this is a crisis?
Our industry is growing so rapidly, it is said that an additional 310,000 jobs will be created by the year 2004 and that 340,000 people leave the industry every year. Where are all these new recruits going to come from? Springboard UK, which, in fairness, is a Government-funded body, is doing its bit to catch the school leavers and try to entice them into hospitality, but is this going to be enough?
David Tosket, associate dean at Thames Valley University, believes that the introduction to catering has to start at school. We need to get catering reintroduced as a curriculum activity from as early as age 11. Many children today have never baked a loaf of bread, touched a piece of raw food or even been given an understanding of general food hygiene. There are even more who have never eaten in a restaurant and at home only ever eat in front of the television with finger food pre-cooked by their favourite supermarket. How can we expect them to want to go into catering if they know nothing about it?
My love of catering came from my home economics classes where we learnt not only to cook but also about nutrition, health and hygiene, and service skills. I would never have considered studying hotel and restaurant management at university had it not been for this.
As a company I really don't know how much longer we can survive without staff. We are in a catch-22 situation. Not enough staff, so everybody works more. We advertise, but nobody answers. Some get burned out and they leave, so those who remain work even more. We recruit, but we are so desperate that we have to work them hard and keep them on the floor, there is no time for training. They get fed up and so they leave. And so it goes on.
This problem is not going to go away. We are only small fish in the sea and we can't shout loud enough. We are surrounded by so many different catering bodies, is it not possible to be united for once and lobby for what must be done, or are we and many others really going to have to drown before drastic measures are taken?
How sad to think that the only real solution is to recruit from Europe, Australia and South Africa. These people are fabulous workers, they turn up for work on time, respect their colleagues and have a great attitude for work. I am a true Brit, but at the moment I'd just like to say "Sod it" and recruit a plane-load. Any other solution?
Next diary from Tammy Mariaux will be on 25 June
