Small pleasures

Sara works with toddlers on a Monday and at the tea rooms on a Friday. She's great with kids. I overheard her today: "have you been caught in that naughty rain?" she asked. The middle aged couple looked a little taken aback, and I didn't hear their reply. I don't even know if they stayed.
My favourite customer today was a lady on a diet. She ordered coffee and searched her bag for sweeteners and asked her husband whether she could allow herself a little milk. He sighed and smiled and said that he didn't think a drop of milk would make a difference given that she was about to eat a large slice of chocolate cake.

Ramblers

We made £70.50 for the charity. Pam, the radio reporter, showed up at 1020. I made us coffee and hoped someone else would turn up. She was to go on air at 1110 (with whom? Me, Nancie and the ice cream delivery man? Did that count as a coffee morning?) Just in time the cavalry arrived in the form of friends and two ladies who'd heard about it on the radio. We had a mini party. We talked about gaffes and Nancie told her radio audience how she was hugged by Adrian Chiles.
Pam stayed on, mining the rich seam of "good talkers" willing to give her some material for the Bank Holiday weekend programmes.
Then the rain came, and groups of very wet walkers arrived for coffee. And stayed for lunch. Then stayed on for tea, still dripping all over the carpet.
Two ladies were meeting for their annual catch up. One had driven up from Somerset this morning, the other down from Cheshire. Our place was about half way, they thought.
Someone rang this afternoon to ask if we could handle 40 pensioners for Sunday morning coffee. I think I'm going to need more help.

The answer, my friend (2).

Gordon Brown has certainly made me feel better about my riff-raff comment.
A quieter day which dawned with another call from BBC Hereford and Worcester. We are now hosting a coffee morning to raise funds for the Noah's Ark Trust. TOMORROW. A radio car and reporter are being sent at 1030. I pointed out that we may not be very busy (given that we don't open til 11) and have spent the rest of the day urging friends to turn up.
I met a new dilemma this afternoon. What does one do when a man ordering coffee bends slightly to look at the cakes in the display cabinet and ...well...breaks wind? I chose to ignore it, as did he, but I must look up whether there is any protocol to observe in such cases.

Highlights

Today was a proper day off. I dropped off the bread, turned on the coffee machines and left Sue, Mary and Jennifer to it. I went to have my hair "done". BBC Radio Shropshire rang. They were doing a feature on things to do on Bank Holiday weekend and a listener had suggested Witley Court. Would I talk to them on air about it? I sat outside Staples in my car (I needed more order sheets. I do not get my hair done at Staples) and waffled on at length about the glory of the gardens and the fountain and the scones. Unfortunately I may also have said something about keeping out the riff-raff which apparently didn't sound ironic.
At the weekend I'm now expecting either a] lots of angry Shropshire folk who think I've insulted them to descend on the tea rooms wielding banners or b] that no Shropshire folk ever cross the threshold again.
Last week a man on holiday told me our coffee was the best in Shropshire. I gently pointed out that we're in Worcestershire.

Salad Daze

Another first - the first coach party in for lunch. Forty six folks from the Childswickham Evergreens.
They were due at 1215.
They arrived at 1045. Cue panic as the Evergreens ordered 5 cappuccinos at a time, and three members of the coffee making team hadn't yet arrived (nb arrival time).
One lady ordered two espressos for herself and a friend. I have to say I was pretty impressed. She didn't look like someone who'd down a shot of caffeine in a gulp. When I delivered the doll-size cups to her table she looked astonished. "I didn't realise it would be so small" she said. I asked if she'd prefer a filter? Yes, she would.
They all went off to see the church and the grounds and then trickled in for lunch. Of the forty six (plus driver) Freda and George made 32 ham-salads-served-with-new-potatoes in rapid succession.
Thankfully both Freda and George drink espresso.

Steel

Becky wrote a shopping list for me today. It had one item on it: knives.
We wrapped loads of knives in preparation for two private gatherings. One was a Christening - Rich and Rachel had their three children baptised at the 1030 service and came down afterwards for sandwiches and scones. We had enough knives.
After the service a bench was dedicated to Nancie's husband. Her family and friends had ordered a substantial lunch. For which we had enough knives.
The issue of knives became apparent only when everyone else arrived, those who weren't there for Nancie or the Welch Family. A man and his wife ordered quiche and they needed a knife. Each. The teacake eaters couldn't get by without them, and a ham salad can't be tackled with a fork. You might think you're on safer ground with the soup orderers, but even they need knives to butter their mini baby cottage granary rolls (yes, that's what they're called).
Becky is right. About most things.

Saturday - sorry

I didn't get round to writing yesterday. When the tea rooms closed I went out to our village's very own Come Dine With Me which involved a complicated dress code. Therefore I failed in my duty to the blog, but I do have a pair of fake-tanned legs. On Saturday people came in their droves. Most of them wanted ham. And toffee cake. And filter coffee. And bizarrely, the vast majority of sandwich orders were for white bread. That has NEVER happened before. There weren't as many smiles as usual. Are we taking the sunshine for granted so soon?

That'll do nicely, sir

Sara, Sue and I had a very busy day. Sara arrived early for her first proper shift and was barely in her pinny before she was taking orders, making decaf americanos and talking to herself (I do it too: "two cups, spoons, I need sugar, what does that say? gluten free, oh, forgot the teacakes" that sort of thing). Two men came for coffee and lunch. One said he'd just moved into the village and we were his local. Where? Only into the ENORMOUS house behind the automatic gates. He left a large tip and a very good impression. He and his maserati-driving friend can come back anytime.
Neil and Dianne, our newly-weds, came in a day after returning from their honeymoon: americanos, scones and apple shortcake. Neil thinks the apple shortcake is the lower fat option. I'm not sure it is really.
We were so busy at lunchtime that I had to call Eileen to come and help with the washing up. She arrived just at the point that we were running out of knives.
Today's soup was Witley Asparagus, grown less than a mile from the door.

Making someone unhappy without cake

I knew there'd be one.
One woman who came in and said, "Oh, you've changed it." She looked dreadfully disappointed as she took in the lovely clean walls, the pretty bunting, the unstained table coverings, the "welcome" sign, the fresh flowers. "You don't like it" said I.
"I don't like change." said she.
She had a fruit tea. She didn't write in the visitors' book.

Light relief

"How light is your light lunch because I once had a duck down sandwich?" That's the calibre of Wednesday's tea room repartee. I told the customer to watch his step or he'd end up on my blog. Another man came to the counter to complain that he hadn't noticed we had teacakes until he'd smelled one toasting. By which time he'd already had cake. And this is my fault? Many, many couples came today - mostly in their late fifties/early sixties. Again they loved the "taste of the garden" soup and fruit cake was favoured above the chocolate and vicky sponge.
The man from the George Formby Soc rang as I was dragging bindweed out of the conservatory. He just wanted to chat for half an hour after having heard me on BBC Hereford and Worcester. I've apparently been mentioned on his website. Must check that out. (Just did. Can't find anything.)

The Two Show

We made the evening paper. Page 16 of the Worcester News: Adrian's visit. It was all linked to his departure to ITV from the BBC but neverthless The Garden Tea Rooms got a mention and there was a lovely photo of the children and their art.
There were just two of us working today and despite a lunchtime rush Nancie and I coped. We were thrown a customer curve ball - lots of coffee orders then suddenly nothing but tea, tea, tea which meant a whole jug of filter coffee was tipped away. The roasted veg and mozarella quiche proved the most popular. Customer of the day asked me if I was Anna (I've labelled the fruit cake: Anna's Fruit Cake). No? Then was I Nancie? (Nancie's Cream of Tomato Soup) No? The question, "then who the heck are you?" was obvious in his expression.
I'm unwilling to put "Gill's Lemon Drizzle" on a display card. I wonder why that is.
Tomorrow I should get that call from the George Formby Society.

Blue

I think I might have been someone else's customer of the day today.
After picking up the bread and opening up I left Mary and Jennifer to it and had a day up West. Well..in Worcester..which is the equivalent.
I realise that I have moved into a different fashion phase. Obviously I was looking for clothing I liked, but I also had a new criteria. Would it look ok with the aprons? The manageress was very helpful and brought me lots of lovely things to try on. She did look confused though when I told her I couldn't wear anything blue, cos there's nothing in my tea room of that colour.
When I returned Mary told me a man had called for me from the George Formby society and would call back on Wednesday. I can't wait.

Ice cream Sunday

Warm from the off today so all sat outside until late afternoon. Nancie was still glowing after her hug from Adrian. She wants a signed photograph now. Freda managed to break one of the fridge shelves "by putting tomatoes on it" ?? and we sold out of granary bread.
Wasps have started gathering at the patio window, so I think where may be a nest somewhere. Time to call in The Verminator, aka Nigel, who rid our house of its wasps nest. He's a gutsy man. His job is sorting out wasp problems but he has a wasp allergy which could hospitalise him.
Only one person wrote in the book - a comment about excellent service which isn't amusing but quite gratifying. I may get some time off tomorrow which is making me ridiculously excited.

Birds don't come easy.

Thank goodness that's over. The sun shone. Adrian turned up. No dog bowls were harmed. A good day, but I'm looking forward to an even better night's sleep. Nancie's face was a picture when Adrian stood in line for a cuppa. She'd put on her stay-kissable lipstick especially and said she'd dine out on the fact that she'd met him. I'd overstaffed which meant it didn't feel pressured. Three members of staff left work tonight to go on to Shrawley Village Hall for an Owl extravanganza.
We held a raffle in aid of Acorns Children's Hospice and raised £155. First prize, a Michaelmas Goose from the Goodmans (the very best, ask Jamie Oliver) to be collected in September. The couple who won it came from Buckinghamshire and said they were going to make the trip back in the Autumn to collect it. I didn't serve many customers as I was sitting guiltily in the sunshine with family and friends for most of the day. I now have a visitors book. Only one entry so far, Adrian's, but perhaps I'll mention the best of the entries over coming weeks.

We don't know what we're doing

Very busy, with lots of returning customers, including a family from yesterday who ordered exactly the same thing.
Sue's Celery Soup was a real winner.
By mid afternoon the sun was luring people to sit outside, despite the thin coating of black dust Nancie found when she wiped the tables. The volcanic talc from Iceland has arrived in Worcestershire.
Tomorrow is our very own Chiles on Saturday for anyone who might remember his radio prog of the same name. The ice cream delivery came today, a day late after the van broke down but we finally have our supplies of Bennetts tubs. I immediately worried I hadn't ordered enough. The forecast is amazing.
Customer of the day is a tough one. Certainly not the little boy who picked up the big ceramic dog bowl outside, dropped it and smashed it. His dad came in to apologise and said to his son: "you'll get away with everything Tom because you're so handsome". Hmm. Maybe not everything.

Turning the tables

This morning I was late. There were 3 people waiting for me to open up. Freda (who was on scones and lunches) and Adrian and Geoff in wellies waiting to sort out the septic tank. Nice. So the early arrivals (and there were lots of them) had their coffee with the scent of something unpleasant in the air, until the scones came out of the oven. Just before midday Anita arrived from BBC Hereford and Worcester to interview me ahead of the BIG event on Saturday. She recorded the sound of the coffee machine as I made her a latte and then asked me a few questions. It felt very odd having a microphone thrust at me.
The forecast for Saturday is good. I'm thinking of simplifying the menu down to sandwiches to avoid delays. I'm waking in the middle of the night worrying about noone turning up, or hundreds turning up. Thank goodness the card machine now appears to be functioning.
Customer of the day ordered 7 hot chocolates and a mocha which meant I had to send Diana to the village Post Office for more milk.

Badge of Honour

There've been too many contenders for customer of Wednesday. The first couple through the door this morning called me over to compliment me on the chalk board. I thought they meant on how clear it was. No, he was a man after my own heart who liked the fact that there were no incorrect spellings, no rogue apostrophes and that even the accents were in the right place. Tick.
Then there were newlyweds, Neil and Dianne. They'd married at Ludlow Castle at 10am then driven their party all the way to us for coffee, cake and scones, before returning to Ludlow for their meal. They did this because they LOVE the tearooms. Tick. Star.
But the prize has to go to two boys who came in this morning. I'd never met anyone who'd won a Blue Peter badge before. This morning, in my tearooms, there were two. One won for making a fish out of smarties leftover from a maths project and the second for making a tank out of cardboard boxes. Tick. Excellent work.

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The debit card machine had its worst day today. I don't know what had upset it but it failed to accept a single card. Really frustrating. Everyone had cash instead except for a young mum with two kids who had cartons of drink and chocolate cake. She ordered a hot chocolate and a scone for herself, then when the machine went bananas she told me to scrap her own stuff. I ignored her. It was hardly her fault the machine wouldn't play ball.
Customers of the day were the two ladies whose husbands were parking the car when they ordered their tea and coffee and walnut cake. One asked if they should share a piece? (This conversation is replicated every day). The other looked as if she'd suggested they do a naked waltz for Britain's Got Talent. She wanted her own cake, and she got it.

A little knowledge

I now realise I need to know more. Not about cake, or scones, or what a double shot mocha is, but the answers to questions posed by customers. Today one admired the photograph of Witley Court which hangs over the fireplace: "what year was that taken?". Erm. Another asked me how I'd managed to get the little orange tree in the conservatory to fruit? Erm. Another asked how many people would be coming to see Adrian Chiles when he visits on Saturday? Now that is the BIG question. How many? And how much will they eat and drink, and how many staff will I need to serve them? And how much bread and milk should I order? Erm.
Customer of the day was the woman who didn't like mushrooms but who ordered the leek, mushroom and gruyere quiche and loved it. That's my girl.

Let's call the whole thing off

While I'm wondering about fruit versus plain scones and where cheese scones fit in to the debate, another question has emerged. I reckon about 50% of the people through the door call them scones, rhyming with "bones". The rest pronounce it to rhyme with "the Fonz".
The tricky bit for me is this. If I say it back to them, as on occasions I must, do I repeat what they have said, half the time counter-intuitively? Or do I stick to my pronunciation and risk sounding as if I'm correcting them?
Customer of the day was the little boy who asked if there was anything in my shop for £2. He bought a piece of millionnaire's shortbread and a bag of crisps, and still had 5p for his moneybox.

Espress delivery

We did well today. Busy from the outset when a group of 8 came for coffee when the machines were barely warm. Almost everyone sat outside today (perhaps because I'd inadvertently left the storage heaters on for the hottest day of the year so far). Service was good, tips were up, soup sold out. We sold a lot of icecream and cold drinks which made for an easier life. The customer of the day (I think I should have one every day) was the man who ordered a double espresso. They're very rare in these parts. He came in half an hour later for another. That's FOUR espressos. Then he came back half an hour after that. Yawning. I told him he needed a coffee.

Fast food, slow coffee.

Another first today. The first coach party. On Wednesday a man who takes groups on mystery tours rang to alert us that he'd be bringing 25 people at about 11.30 today. They were plant lovers. I know this because they bought a lot of plants.
I overheard one woman - "this new fangled coffee takes a long time to make. It wasn't like that in the old days". I didn't know that real people really do really say: "it wasn't like that in the old days". Sue's first day making the lunches was a triumph.

Training my Dragon

Today is my son's 10th Birthday. So I took (almost) the whole day off and took him to the cinema to see How to Train Your Dragon. I cried. Whether because it was an emotional ending, or because I always cry, or because I haven't done anything but order cakes, cut cakes, serve cakes and make cakes for weeks, and there wasn't a single cake in the film, I don't know.
Anyway. I returned to find everyone flustered and tired out after what they said was an incredibly busy day with a queue out of the door at lunchtime. The till told a less impressive story so perhaps I need to do a little more staff training and less cake baking. And certainly fewer trips to the cinema.

Taking credit.

So we finally have the debit/credit card machine installed. We tried it out yesterday afternoon when a lady had to come behind the counter and into the kitchen to use it as we didn't have an extension cable. Today it sat proudly next to the till. And refused to work.
It declined one woman's card, and when she tried another it declined that too. She paid in cash eventually and I wondered why I ever thought it was a good idea.
It behaved itself later. So we now have TWO whole completed transactions.
In another major change, fruit scones are now much more popular than plain ones. Freda is thrilled as she's been lobbying to include them on the menu for years.

The answer, my friend.

I was at the cash and carry at 0730. Naomi met me in the car park with her legal stash of choc cake, vicki sponge and quiche which she'd made last night after another of my desperate calls.
Busier than expected today. A Bank Holiday, I'm informed, often has an extra day's busy-ness. Same source says it'll quieten for the rest of the week and then peak again at the weekend. I'll know by Sunday whether my source is reliable.
Many came to us for shelter from the wind this afternoon. They wanted tea and warmth after being blown about while watching the Witley Court fountain, now being fired every hour. And you can time the next wave of customers to the tea rooms. The fountain stops. They come. And they love chocolate cake.

Bank Holidays

Blimey. Do I really have to do this again tomorrow? It's really lovely greeting people, taking their orders (taking their money) and giving them tea and scones and cake and sandwiches. But after a hectic Bank Holiday Monday I have to be at the cash and carry at 7.30 in the morning for loo rolls and crisps and a whole shopping list of things we can't do without. Some mums pointed out today that I need a couple more high chairs. They don't sell those at the cash and carry.

TV and tea cakes

Central television's Bob Warman stood in a long line of Easter customers and ordered a tea cake. We'd run out. We've also run out of hot cross buns, chocolate cake, lemon drizzle cake (a personal triumph), toffee cake and scones. More will be delivered tomorrow after some frantic phone calls this evening. I hope.

Easter Saturday drizzle

Today was momentous for me. I went in early and made a cake. Lemon Drizzle. It was the first baking I had done personally since we opened. We were packed out at tea time - the sun had brought people out and then the rain made them rush to us for cover. We ran out of three flavours of soup, sold all the the fruit scones and all but one hot cross bun. We haven't yet sold out of lemon drizzle but there's always tomorrow.

Not just one.

Today was the day. Two coeliacs. I could have kissed them! Both were very appreciative of Naomi's gluten-free banana cake, which we drizzled with toffee sauce.
Then in late afternoon 70 people who were rehearsing in the church came down for tea and cake ALL AT THE SAME TIME. They ate all the scones and I feared they'd eat me out of cake. I wish I'd ordered more hot cross buns now.

Hot cross buns

THURSDAY The Environmental Health Officer said our place is gleaming. That's made the four days Pam spent on her knees worthwhile (scrubbing, not praying). Now I have to fill in a load of forms about cleaning rotas and staff training and whether we ever serve rice, then he'll come back and see what star rating we are.
We're now offering seasonal fayre in the form of hot cross buns. We named the soup "a taste of the garden" and it all went. Maybe the stranger the name the better.