One grouse can spoil 100 compliments
December has seen the first real drop in trade this year. Not at the weekend, of course: Thursday to Saturday is still chock-a-block. The last two Tuesdays and Wednesdays, however, have had a morgue-like feel with only a handful of punters braving the freezing fog and early winter gloom.
I feel sorry for the poor devils eating when it is quiet for we rely on the buzz of a busy service to liven up proceedings in the dining room. There is no background music to compensate for the lack of chatter - almost no background music, that is, for I have a radio and cassette player in the kitchen. Its purpose is twofold: to keep me from going mad when things aren't going according to plan; and, more importantly perhaps, to act as a barrier between any unkind comments or crashing noises emanating from the kitchen during more hectic moments. But it is not meant to be discernible in the dining room itself.
Otherwise, things seem to be okay. There is no shortage of interesting produce for the menu at this time of the year - plenty of wonderful game such as hare and woodcock. Fresh pike is available at reasonable cost so I am rediscovering the joys of quenelles de brochet for a while, or at least until the price of fish moves down a notch or two.
The reaction from most of those actually eating the food here continues to be fine as far as I can tell. Naturally, there are the odd exceptions and it is these that stick in the mind. For some reason one adverse comment will stay with you for longer than 100 letters from those happy and contented.
One couple last Friday, for instance, whinged from arrival onwards to anyone within hearing distance about everything from the menu selection to the room temperature, but strangely said not a word to us directly, even when asked. This put me in an awkward spot as to what action best to take.
It wasn't that I wanted to put things right for them - only hara-kiri would have done that - but I was keen to shorten both our sufferings by shifting them towards the exit. However, they ate everything put in front of them and the only adverse comment put our way was that the vegetables were served on the same plate as the main dishes rather than on a side dish, which they felt to be the proper way. A valid comment, but not one with which I agree.
Next time I shall treat myself to turfing out such people regardless. And if I lose the cost of a meal for the pleasure, at least I'll sleep more soundly for it. Normally a little jazz or Mozart in the kitchen helps prevent the red mist of anger descending on these - thankfully rare - occasions.
Perhaps I should extend it to the dining room after all?
