Into the Unknown

So it's now 41 for concert suppers tomorrow evening and I haven't got a clue where'll I'll put everyone. Had this lovely idea of having two slightly staggered sittings as about half are coming at 5.30 and half at 6pm - the first would sit in the main room, the 2nd lot in the conservatory. Then. THEN I remembered. Somewhere we have to feed the 30 performers sandwiches and cakes. I've been humming "I'm just a girl who can't say no" under my breath all day. Becky suggests putting one table in the corridor leading to the loos. And another in the loos themselves. I'm thinking of putting a "gone away" sign on the gate.
Still. Here's the finalised menu:
Watercress and Celery Soup OR Smoked Mackerel Paté
Leek, Mushroom and Gruyere Quiche OR Honeyed Chicken Kebabs (got to use those skewers somehow)
Warm brownie served with cream OR Eton Less-Messy (a whole homemade meringue with local strawberries and raspberries. And cream)
Deep breath.

Well Bread

The Summer holidays are definitely upon us. Today was busy again for lunch and yet again the jacket spuds were being ordered faster than we could replace them in the oven. Tomorrow I shall start with more. Cunning. A very pleasant teenager with a Scottish accent came to the counter to rave about the millionaire's shortbread.
I managed to flood the conservatory with some over-zealous watering and we ran out of white bread - the second day in a row that white bread has been as popular as granary (usually 80% of our customers are granarified).
Am still worrying about Saturday's 37 suppers. Menu yet to be finalised but will involve us making a vat of mackerel paté as a starter. Went to my book group this evening in the pub - 5 mins of book talk, 2 hours of gossip, stories and menu planning.

You gotta have faith

It felt like a coach party. Freda kept asking if it WAS a coach party. We kept throwing more and more jacket potatoes into the oven. It wasn't a coach, just LOTS of large family groups making the most of the intermittent sunshine.
My friend Faith dropped in today en route from her London home to Liverpool. I'll blame her for starting the cappuccino-rush.
I'm now starting to worry about Saturday evening when we have 37 booked in for a three-course concert supper. Will we manage?

The Last Straw

The spate of festivals is playing havoc with my rotas. The younger ones have lists of them to go to through the Summer. And today Caz, the 21-year-old Swahili student, hobbled in to tell me that she's broken her foot falling off a hay bale and won't be able to work.
Ah, to be young again.

Bargain

By 1030 this morning I'd spent £1,200 (plus VAT) on a brand new dishwasher.
It took two men an hour to fit her, and they gave me a FREE bottle of rinse aid.

As Good As A Rest

No sugar/salt incidents today. Jo helped again this morning and is almost ready to trade her high powered London job for taking trays of tea and cake to people. She says the customers are so often smiling and make such lovely noises of approval as we deliver their cakes and drinks.
And it's such a great place to be.
And she likes the aprons.
Am thinking of whether I could offer weekends in the country to stressed, city ladies where they'd pay me to come and work in a rural tea rooms and be smiled at.
They could vacuum and clean the loos - stuff they never get to do at home.
It might just work.

Saltgate

So we threw away all the sugar-bowls-mistakenly-filled-with-salt. Or so we thought. This afternoon a lady who'd ordered tea brought the sugar bowl back to us saying her tea tasted of salt. We made her a new pot of tea, took a fresh bowl of sugar out to her (having tasted it) and were mortified when that too turned out to be full of salt. Her companion
laughed and laughed. She didn't. At first. Refunded money and a chocolate bar helped her to see the funny side.
The morning started with a large wedding in the church. A gospel choir from Birmingham all wanted takeaway mochas and hot chocolate; a group of 29 wanted....everything. We were quite tight on staff but my friend Jo put a pinny on and mucked in. Gina fell ill and had to be driven home by Eileen. Jo became crucial. A local couple who'd ordered one bowl of soup ended up with a jacket potato AND soup. Quite a day.
Eileen is back. She tests for antibiotics and tb, cos milk can't have either in it.
She should test our sugar bowls.

Skewered

My Sainsbury's delivery story has been on Radio 4 AGAIN. (The Now Show. Tonight. About 5 to 7) And this time the story apparently happened to someone Punt and Dennis actually know, which means I must know them (I don't. Yet). I wonder if they'll show up at the tea rooms to taste our quiche and seal our new-found friendship.
Occasionally we have mishaps. Sue's thrown a tray of the scones she's just made onto the floor. We've all broken bits and pieces of china, dropped cake, slopped milk. Accidental stuff. But I'm beginning to think there's a Just William among us who's deliberately making mischief. Someone (Nancie) turned off the drinks fridge "by accident". Someone (Nancie) doubled up a jacket potato order and then had the leftover one for her lunch. But I have now caught her red-handed. She was actually putting salt in the sugar bowls.
Juvenile behaviour.

Stain

Eileen's back tomorrow. She's been at the Royal Welsh Show for the last few days where her job was testing cows milk. The show-cows still have to be milked, and their milk has to be tested apparently. Tested for what? I shall ask her. And I'll ask her how she tests it. And then I'll make her a latte.
We had a good day today with a surprising amount of sunshine. Ita said I hid from the public, which is probably right. I didn't feel 100% so did washing up, went out to collect produce, ordered supplies, that sort of thing. Ita called me when someone ordered a macchiato - the first time this has ever happened in our tea rooms. Macchiato means stained or marked. It's an espresso (easy enough) with a fine layer of foam on the top, just enough to stain the coffee with the milk.
Not many people's cup of tea.

Sweet Little Lies

Two days before the end of term in our neck o'the woods and lots of teachers in today. One lot were from a local primary, saying goodbye to a member of staff and laughing a lot. We'd forgotten how much noise people can make when they sit inside rather than out. The other group were 3 retired teachers - one from Notts, one from Coventry and one from Worcester who like to meet up (with their wives) occasionally. They arrived 10 minutes before closing.
This morning two mates who met the year Pat Cash won Wimbledon came. Steve from Brisbane was visiting Neil and his family in Droitwich. They'd started chatting in the Wimbledon queue 23 years ago. Steve asked me what the toffee cake was like. Very sweet, I said. He had it with peppermint tea.
A man who came alone asked me if I had made the raspberry and coconut slice. When I said I hadn't he said I should have lied.

Or there'll be no pudding.

A older couple came in today at 11.30 and asked Jennifer if they could have an early lunch. They chose the ham salad with new potatoes, the most expensive and substantial thing on the menu. They then asked for extra ham. Jennifer told them there was quite a lot of hand-sliced ham anyway but they could not be put off. They also wanted extra potatoes. Jennifer asked if they'd not had any breakfast. Then they wanted a bread roll each (actually a mini-baby-cottage, but they weren't to know). Jennifer said they'd better eat it all or they'd answer to her.
They did.
Eat it all that is.

Iron won't

I'm often asked how it's all going. Is it doing well? Better than you expected?
I don't really know, is the honest answer. Pretty well I think but the weather has been phenomenal and I can't count on it all Summer.
On the personal front I regularly forget to feed my children, my eyesight is deteriorating and piles of domestic washing are slowly taking over the house. I'm about to spend £1,200 on a brand new dishwasher and a strange-looking Inland Revenue form has arrived with a deadline of next week.
But I'm surrounded by cake and crisps all day. What's not to love?

Surprise

Not the sunniest of days but a very busy lunchtime nonetheless. The man who dyes his hair told Nancie how much he loved the spinach and Herefordshire goats' cheese quiche.
We were just catching up after the rush when the Court rang to say that a coach of 45 unexpected visitors had arrived and were heading our way.
I've noticed that coach parties are often full of acquaintances, not friends. Noone wants to buy anyone else a cup of tea, clearly worried the favour will never be reciprocated. So it's tray after tray of "one tea, one scone". And if it's ever: "two teas, two scones" ladies (always ladies) peer into their purses and look uncomfortable. It can be a stressful few seconds before it's decided they'll split the bill and I take their money separately.

Nothing like a Dame

Slack. On Friday I didn't write an entry because after work I went to a J-Me party where a lady sold me some cooking stuff that Jamie Oliver likes. So it must be good.
Yesterday a family brought their huge white alsatian to sit in the garden while they had tea. They bought the dog his own piece of Victoria Sponge.
Years ago I went to interview Barbara Cartland in her home and afterwards we had afternoon tea at an enormous dining room table. The first thing she did was to cut two slabs of cake and set them on the floor for her dogs. And what she said when the mic was turned off was far more entertaining than what was in the interview.

The Hills are Alive

16 for lunch and a tour today. They were all carers from Kidderminster on their monthly day out together. One lady said she'd had a lovely time but wished we did chips.
In the lulls between customers I chatted with Ita and Mary. Sometimes I ask questions and I think I already know the answer. Mary told me she has a 40-something nephew in Switzerland. "What does he do there?" I asked, presuming banking, or chocolate making, or putting cuckoos into clocks.
"He's a baroque trumpeter" she said.
Ah yes, of course.

Cleaned out

The official quote for bringing the dishwasher back to life arrived today - £1,187.16 + vat.
That's a lot of tea.
Am thinking of putting a collection plate for a new one next to the tips bowl.

Pressing

People still come in the rain. That's a relief cos the forecast is pretty awful for the next few days. Becky's mum texted with exciting news: the blog entry about my Sainsbury's delivery was only read out on Woman's Hour.
I have a pathetic four bottles of pressé left as the ordered boxes haven't shown up. I rang them this morning and they told me they'd left the store but none of the couriers had them. They're sending more.

No Warren tea..

*Sigh* The engineer says the dishwasher isn't worth repairing: "at least £500 just for the parts". His advice cost me £93.
On the positive side two of the red postbox bird boxes were sold today.

Sundye

The culprit has been identified. And it is the dishwasher. We turned it on first thing to test it, and within minutes the whole system had tripped. Eileen and Dad washed up on a very busy Sunday with just the one machine. Eileen told us about a regular customer sitting in the garden who now dyes his hair: "When he had grey hair a stranger helped him cross the road" she said, "and he didn't like it." "Why?" said Nancie, "did he want to stay on the same side?".

Five go to Worcestershire

The Vegan 5 were very punctual. The lunch was a surprise for one man's 70th birthday. His wife had called weeks ago from their home in Devon. Her first question was whether we allowed dogs, and the second if we could provide a fully vegan meal for them and some friends from Stoke. It was actually quite simple. All you do is call Naomi and ask her to make a tart with soya margarine, listen to her gasp, then say yes, and then wait for her to deliver it. Then you get Sue to make asparagus soup (yes, it's still going at one farm. Just) and give them strawberries and raspberries for pud. They brought their own cake, soya cream and soya milk for tea. Easy.

Menagerie

Two large groups today: a party of 38 ladies from a Kidderminster church who, as they left, asked Nancie if they could hold their Christmas party with us (only if they have it before November or after March - we're closed over the Winter) and 46 mums and kids from the local prep school for a child's leaving party. The organiser left a lovely message on the answerphone this evening saying they'd all had a great time and would return.
The cat has also come back and keeps hanging around the conservatory. I would have thought spending the night locked in would be reason enough to avoid the place. The other regular visitor is a robin who took a piece of carrot cake offered to it by a customer last week and occasionally dives into the conservatory to sit in the fig tree.
The Vegan 5 are coming tomorrow.
And a group of people from a hardy plants society.

Sometimes the customer is just plain wrong.

I broke a cup this morning and was slightly off-the-pace all day, which was unfortunate given that we were REALLY busy. Busy can be fun, and when an old friend who used to make cappuccinos for a living happened to drop in at the point that 3 cappuccinos had been ordered I welcomed his frothing expertise with open arms. Then came the complainer. She said people who'd ordered AFTER her had their food BEFORE her. Becky explained that those who order tea/cakes/scones etc will have their trays before those who are waiting for lunches but she insisted she was right. I went out to see her: "I understand you're not happy?" I began. "I didn't say I wasn't happy," she said, "but I'm annoyed that people who came after us..." etc etc. I apologised. She said she didn't want an apology. Then she pointed to the children. "They're hungry," she said, "and I wish you would just admit you've lost our order." We hadn't. "I don't run my business like that," she continued, "In my business it's first come first served" As it is here, of course, but I shouldn't have bothered trying to explain, she'd made up her mind. "I'm a steward up in the church" she went on,"and I do a lot of work for Witley Court, but I won't bother coming here in the future." So some good came out of it then.
After she'd had her lunch she came in for strawberries and chocolate cake. She was like a different person. The jacket potato must have been good.

Forward planning

Caroline (Caz) did her first shift to learn the ropes and show us what she can do. She's 21 and doing African studies which means she's learning Swahili. Could be useful when we open our tea rooms in Tanzania*.
Watercress and celery soup - it's the way forward. Nancie from made it for the first time today. It's yet another green soup to add to asparagus and pea&mint but it really works as a combo. Tomorrow's group of 20 for lunch have taken it to the wire. The promised pre-orders aren't coming til tomorrow morning so I've had to take a guess at the bread order. Again.
*Plan # 2076

Wired

After the recent electrical trippings I'd told Mike (electrician) I'd meet him at 9.15, to give him time to look for the problem before we opened. At 9.15 a man walked through the door, "Are you Mike? said I. "Mark" said the man, who turned out to be a very tired antiques dealer. "They call me Lovejoy" he said, and he needed strong coffee and a bacon sandwich before he continued on to Ludlow. What he got was coffee and a toasted teacake which had to be put together in olympic time as Kevin (not Mike as it turned out) had his hand on the switches ready to cut the power. Kevin spent the next half hour explaining to me what was going wrong with the ringmain, and which switches governed which bits. He kept saying: "what people don't understand is..." and then talked about something I just couldn't understand.
I am now looking towards the end of the week - 20 booked for a lunch on Thursday, two very large tea parties (one of 34) on Friday.
And then.
On Saturday:
the Vegan 5.
Eek.

Come on, Eileen

Eileen is fab. She looks after other people's dogs, feeds people's chickens and comes in whenever I need her to wash up, which at the moment is every day. When she was clearing a table today she dropped a plate. She said she'd broken a cup at the weekend so there'd be a third somewhere along the line. I told her to go home and break one of her own. On Friday she came in at 2: "I couldn't make it earlier," she said, "because I went to have my hair cut on the bus."

Diet

We've had friends staying with us this weekend. Clare offered to help me open up this morning and I bit off her hand. She set out the cakes in the display fridge, made the outside tables presentable, folded a mountain of napkins and was still there when the coach party from Shropshire descended at noon. The guy who'd organised it said he'd noticed a lot of people had had cake: "which is surprising given how many of us are diabetics." Among the last customers of the day were two men for tea and cake ahead of a recital in the church. One asked if there was anything dairy in the fruit cake. I told him there'd be butter in it. He asked about milk. I couldn't be sure, I said. I don't know Anna's (secret) recipe but it could easily have milk in it. "I'm lactose intolerant," he said, "but I'll have it anyway." Two different people asked me for soya milk (we don't have it). Three people ordered gluten free cake. Two people asked if the soup is gluten-free. It is. And four people ordered half-shot lattes. Now, I love lattes. But half a shot?

Power Trip

Tried out two new cakes today: St Clements, with sunken chocolate chunks, and Naomi's banana, maple and pecan. I wish no-one had ordered the latter because I could have eaten ALL of it. For the second day in a row the power tripped. It looks like it might be the number 2 dishwasher that's causing the problem. Could be expensive.
We've completely sold out of the home-made ice lollies.

The Customer Is Always Right

Today was naughty customers day. I delivered a tray to four women, two of whom were eating their own sandwiches out of lunchboxes. I advised them, politely, that they couldn't eat their own lunch here. One apologised and put hers away. The other said: "well they were eating sandwiches in the church. I don't think they should be allowed to do that." What that had to do with anything I have no idea. When I next came outside woman number one was guiltily pushing something in her mouth. Then there were the couple who asked Sara if they could smoke outside. We said: "No, sorry". They did it anyway. Later a lady at another table was puffing away when I brought her tea. I asked her not to smoke, and she put out her cigarette between her forefinger and thumb. Nice. But at least it stayed out.
But what really got my goat (not a phrase I use very often) was when "they-were-eating-sandwiches-in-the-church" woman, strolled into the kitchen when we were all at our busiest (which was most of today) and said: "I'm just having a look around - it is for sale isn't it?"

Strawberry Split

We are now selling bird boxes. They're in the form of Post Boxes, proper red and fun. They're made by a charity in Kidderminster. I have two on the counter and have sold them both. To members of staff.
"Can I be awkward?" from a man with a smile, "May we have one bowl of strawberries, and one bowl of raspberries mixed together, and split between two bowls? And then can you scoop out a little tub of vanilla ice cream, divide it in two and serve it on top of the fruit, please?" It wasn't awkward at all. On a busy day it might have been.