Fat chance

Lime macarons.
Chocolate macarons.
Apparently they taste better the longer you leave them.

Battered and bruised

Cowardy

I would not describe myself as adventurous in the kitchen.
Unless you count putting chilli in almost everything.
During the closed season I have set myself the challenge of trying to make things which scare me a little.
Top of my list was custard tarts.
I don't even like custard tarts but there are two people in this family who love them. They looked pretty tricky on Bake Off  and so they proved this morning. Really tricky.
This is the recipe I, ahem, attempted: http://www.bbc.co.uk

Mine look a bit battered to be honest.

Still the boys will love them.

Making them left me with lots of egg white so I am currently making "macarons" a trend I have shunned until now. 

What I like about the home made ones is that they actually taste of something i.e. almonds and that if I can get them right they allow a pretty free hand when it comes to flavour. 

I'll try not to add chilli though. 

Judi, Steve and Me

Today, a no-cake day, I went to the cinema. On my own.
I saw Philomena.
I didn't take enough tissues.

Washed and dyed

The first winter job was to clean out my wardrobe and put all the summer clothes away. I have lived in them all season and don't want to see them til April.
I love scarves but can't really wear them to work so I threw them all in the washing machine, eager to freshen them up for A LOT of winter use.
They've all come out purple.
Apart from the one which started out purple.
This is now mauve.
*sigh*
I suppose this means I shall have to buy at least one more scarf....

Caked

It's clearaway day.
And I smile when the weather forecast is being broadcast.
For the first time in seven months I don't have to listen to it. I don't really care whether it rains or not.

I don't even mind the big clear up because the boys and girls who worked on Sunday did most of it when the last customer of the season left.
The Halloween decorations are down.
The outside furniture is in.
The leftover cake, bread, cheese and crisps have been distributed.

I am content.

Once we've cleared and locked up the first thing I shall do is take my car for a deep clean.
The past few weeks has seen a build up of mud and dirt from the farm track which leads to the tea rooms. It badly needs a power wash.
Then I can properly relax....

Over and out. Nearly.

That's it.
All finished.
Just the leftovers to eat up.
Ah, except for a light lunch for eleven fungi foragers tomorrow.

In the cauldron boil and bake

On Thursday a very attractive lady with cropped dark hair ordered soup for two.
Which one? I asked.
She looked shocked.
"We've come all the way from Wolverhampton," she explained "because it says on your website that you have Witches Brew."
When I delivered their soup the gentleman explained that they had not come all the way from Wolverhampton, but they had made a detour to taste our Halloween offering.

The message in the visitors' book was from Heather the Witch: "Witches' Brew soup well worth the broom ride".

Toil & Trouble

Yesterday my young son and his friend entertained the younger visitors with Halloween puppet shows. They were supposed to do two performances and ended by doing five.
Wendy the Witley Witch puppet is the protagonist in two stories: "I've lost my Cat" and "I'm Not Scared".

It doesn't look like there'll be anything much left over  at the end of this season.
Which is good.
Except that I have to buy more supplies tomorrow as we ran out of so much today.
Yesterday a record was broken.
One order came in for twelve hot chocolates. Twelve. One dozen. On one order.
I sent out for more milk shortly afterwards.

Today was even busier than yesterday and we were short on staff. I hate it when people have to wait too long for their orders. It's a dreadful feeling.
I'm off to bed early tonight to recuperate.

The countdown.

We have entered the final week of the 2013 season.
The trick is to have lots on offer (witches brew soup, spider cakes, puppet shows) whilst at the same time winding down to empty fridges.
The treat is when there's a little bit of cake left over on Sunday....

Groupie

Wednesday's Walkie Talkies gathering was replaced by Thursday's Miles with Smiles, a group which was introduced to me as a selection of "very old ladies".  They had robust Black Country accents,  the sound of home for me, knew each other from church and arrived on a minibus.
Earlier that day we'd served lunch to the Worcester Friendship Group. They sat in the conservatory. In the summer they'd had Afternoon Tea in the garden and had booked this after enjoying their visit.

In the morning a pretty, young girl brought her dad to talk about her wedding in 2015. She would like a vintage tea party reception. Her son, sitting in a high chair, wiped chocolate on my apron with a broad, gorgeous smile.
She'd better watch out for her wedding dress.
I have a chocolate stain on the back of mine, left there by a then 2 year old named Meg.
Meg has just started her second year at Cardiff University and has been working at the tearooms in the holidays since she was 16.
She still likes chocolate.

Such sweet sorrow.

When I woke yesterday it was dark and pouring with rain. Again.
Older son had left on a school trip at 2am so I was suffering from lack of sleep.
I thought about not opening the tea rooms at all.
Then remembered we had a booking for 8 people from a group called the Walkie Talkies so I didn't have a choice.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain (well, nearly all) and brought enough visitors to keep two of us busy all day.
The Walkie Talkies were panini eaters and tea drinkers and wrote lovely stuff in the visitors' book.
Barry, who comes once a week for a walk and a ham sandwich, shook my hand as he left, told me he is visiting his son in Devon next week (our last of the season) so wouldn't see me until April when we reopen.
I felt remarkably sad when he left.

Leave me where I am

One of those days today. So slow that I can remember every customer. And every order.

11am Two men. Two teas, one millionaire's shortbread and one almond slice.

12noon Two police officers. One tea, one black coffee, one kitkat.

We decorate the tea rooms for Halloween.

1230 One lady arrives expecting to find two friends she's arranged to meet.
1245 Second friend arrives
1300 The two decide that the third isn't coming. Order two pumpkin soup and two teas.

1345 two ladies order two cafe lattes.
1400 a couple orders two teas and sit in the conservatory.
1415 two men ask if they can put up a poster advertising enormous pumpkins: 50-180lbs. They order two teas.

Er.
That's it.

I can't remember ever having such a quiet day....

Toil & trouble

Rain this morning.

Rain rain rain.

I'm off to buy pumpkins to spend the (obviously quiet) day making Witches Brew soup. 

Apart from the pumpkin it contains cinnamon, cumin, onions, garlic and bay leaves.

After that I'll start on the ark.

Countdown

Two weeks to go.
We have rather a lot of supplies to get through so I'm really hoping for a dry, busy half term.
Apparently there are different half terms for different shires again this year so you never know the kids may be in this week...
We have had two days of stunning storms. It's been dry for the most part but then absolutely torrential rain in the afternoon.
Lots of mud walked in by people with dripping hair who need hot chocolate.
Two weeks to go.
Did I mention that?

Dampener

A stretch of very poor weather - rain and wind - has left us very quiet.
Soup was the most popular dish of the day - our Autumn Harvest Soup, that is.
One lady who had some of it for lunch bought three portions to take home.
She was going to pass it off as her own.
I have cancelled the milk and cream delivery for tomorrow as the forecast is pretty awful.
Should I reconsider my opening hours?

These are the things we can do without.

For the last few weeks the cake display fridge has been making a dodgy noise...a LOUD dodgy noise.
Various people who hear it suggest what's wrong with it - mainly they say it's the condenser.
Whatever that is.
So the lovely Adrian had a look, did some research and announced that it couldn't be fixed. Or that if it could it would be expensive and he couldn't be sure the repair would last.
And they're VERY expensive to replace.
Yesterday the fridge added a death rattle to its repertoire of sounds.
And so we limp to the end of the season with customers having to shout their orders above the noise.

Or else we turn it off.
And enjoy the peace.

Above and beyond

Today Sandra and Mick (see Sunday's entry) brought in a card and a large vat of chocolates to say thank you for their Golden Wedding anniversary party.
They've now set the bar.
We shall expect gifts after work every day.

Joy to the World

We're selling packs of Christmas cards.
Not your usual tea rooms item, I'll grant, but these are pretty special.
They're designed by one of our customers Hannah Dunnett and they use the words from favourite carols through her rather lovely drawings.
Nothing bleak about them.

Always believe in your soul.

Fifty years ago this weekend Sandra married Mick.
This afternoon they brought 30 friends and family to afternoon tea to celebrate their Golden Wedding anniversary.
Mick made a lovely speech which began:
"Fifty years ago was a very special day. For once I didn't have to get up to do the milking..."

When they left Mick told me he'd enjoyed it so much he hoped we'd be around to cater their Diamond Anniversary.

Eschew

Two older, beautifully dressed, ladies perusing the menu:
Lady One: "What exactly is a panini?"
Lady Two: "We'll it's a sort of large flat roll. A bit like a toasted sandwich."
Lady One: "Oh no, that's not for me. My teeth are too old."

What's in a name?

This week we've been debating the best course of action for soup-naming.

Essentially what we are making on a daily basis at the moment is vegetable soup, but that title just doesn't do it justice.
When we pile a load of flavours from freshly peeled, chopped, sliced and diced things like courgettes, tomatoes, new potatoes, onions, celery and some frankly weirdly-shaped carrots, and then blend it, then the least we can do is to christen it well.
And so recently we've been serving "Country Garden Soup", which we sometimes amend to "Garden Harvest Soup" or at the very least, "Country Vegetable" or "Garden Vegetable".

Does it make it a better soup if it has a fancier name?
Maybe not, but it sounds like more love has gone into it, it sounds like the homemade soup that it is. And therefore more people are willing to try it....

Or should we just stick to "Veg Soup" and see how it goes down?

Future tense

Last week I bought a 2014 diary.

It already has a booking in it for June (group from South Wales - very organised)

There's also a wedding in July/August which will be inked in as soon as the date is decided.

Strange to be getting excited about next season while looking forward to finishing this one...

Abetting

I'm going to have to write this very carefully....
A few weeks ago one of our regular customers asked if we would provide her with certain items for a party she was having, for which she didn't have time to fully cater. This we did willingly and she passed them off as homemade.
But one little white lie can beget another.
She had comments from friends about her fantastic food.
Now she says she has to order more.
They'll then be in the freezer for when these friends visit her over the winter months.
This will allay their suspicions.
Apparently.

A real tonic

We had some real characters in today and thankfully the time to speak to them.

There was the young couple who ordered panini and coffee. When I delivered his cappuccino he asked for a mug of hot water, waved a sachet of lemsip and made what my kids would term 'a sad face'. He was on leave and had come down with a cold.  He smiled when his girlfriend bought him a therapeutic raspberry coconut slice.

There was the couple who sat outside with a beautiful English Setter. They told me the dog's name is Mr Cooper. He was named by their then four year old grandson who rather liked his school dinner lady - Mrs Cooper.  Their smoked salmon sandwich was half on white and half on granary bread - all we had left by the time they ordered.

There was the couple who had dressed in the same coloured clothing, but didn't realise until we asked if they'd done it deliberately, the couple searching for the local fishing pools, and the three toddlers learning to swim who arrive with wet hair and their mums on Fridays.

A lovely day.

Palpitations

This morning was...interesting.
Jane, who works at Witley Court, came in for coffee and a chat during her rounds at 10.15.
She mentioned in passing that a large group was coming to see the Court, and added that they were coming to us at the tearooms before their tour...
"Are they?" I asked.
These were the only two words I could get out of my mouth, which had gone very dry.
She said the group had emailed yesterday to say I knew all about it, that there were 30 of them coming for tea and cake. And joy of joys that they were from a tourist organisation.
Oh and they were due at 1020. In five minutes time...
By now I had picked up the phone and dialled Sara who wasn't due in until midday.
And my brain was whirring with questions about whether I might pull this off...or more likely fail abysmally.
And a little bell of recognition was sounding in my head about a booking for 30 people in the tourist industry.
But there was nothing in the diary.

Jane radioed the Court to find out more.
And discovered that they are in fact coming on OCTOBER 26th, not September.

It took me a few minutes and a large latte to recover.
At lunchtime a five month old girl called Isla, with huge brown eyes, almost made me forget the trauma of the start of the day.

Music to my ears.

Last week my book group met to talk about anything except books since none of us had read the right text.
Still, we passed a pleasant couple of hours in the local pub and as we prepared to leave we thought we'd better sort out a book for next time just to keep up appearances...

Clare was the first to proffer a title:
"My husband has given me a copy of The Piano Room", she said, "he thinks we'll love it."
There were the inevitable questions. How long is it? What's it about?
I typed into my phone and read aloud from the Amazon site:

"The last thing that Lucy Aybrams, a carefree Californian undergraduate at Oxford University sees, before quicklime sears her corneas, is a human anklebone swinging from the fallen roof of a road-protest tunnel in the English countryside."

Lots of aghast faces. Clare looked surprised. We're pretty open minded and I love a good thriller but it didn't sound like something Clare's husband would suggest. Still we dutifully wrote down the title and author and all said we'd try to read it.

Later that evening we had an email from Clare.
It wasn't, in fact, called The Piano Room.
It was called The Music Room, by William Fiennes:
"The bestselling author of The Snow Geese returns with a mesmerizing, heartstopping tribute to his older brother and the house in which they grew up."

Not a swinging human anklebone in sight. 

And counting

It was a busy weekend.
Which is why I'm only now thinking about it.
On Saturday beautiful Anna & gorgeous Rob were married in the church and walked down to our garden with their 70 guests for Pimms and canapés of warm mini tartlets and pasties. The sun shone, it stayed dry and the garden looked very green for their photos.
Then in the evening it was the last of the church concerts for the season and 30 people came for a pre-concert supper. I ran out of homemade honey ice cream (local milk and cream and our own honey are the only ingredients ).  Must remember how popular it is and make more for the next time.

We now have less than 6 weeks of the season left.
I have started writing my list of winter jobs.

Sighs.

"Ooh, you're bigger than I remember," she said as she walked in.
She meant the size of the tea room.
I hope.

Spectacle

We had such a lovely group in yesterday.
From Art Pursuits UK.
They ate our ham, homemade honey ice cream and the last of the Witley strawberries.
The left a very generous tip and wrote in the visitors book: "scrummy food and great staff".
Without my glasses I read it as "quaint staff".

Ta-dah

Andrea's Blackberry and Cinnamon cake

Andrea's Blackberry & Cinnamon Cake

Yesterday a friend sent me the recipe for this cake.
Today is a day off so have just picked the blackberries. I picked them in the pouring rain and now have 250g of wet blackberries.


Hope it's as good as it sounds.

Butter for greasing
140g soft unsalted butter
140g caster sugar
140g ground almonds
140g self raising flour
1 egg
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tsp vanilla extract
225g black berries
Icing sugar for dusting

Heat oven to 180/160 fan/gas 4.  Grease and line 23cm springform tin.  Put the butter, sugar, almonds, flour, egg, cinnamon and vanilla into mixing bowl and beat well.  Spread half the mixture into prepared tin and flatten lightly using back of fork.  Sprinkle over blackberries and dot over the remaining cake mixture so the fruit is covered.  Place tin on a baking sheet and bake in oven for about 1 hour until golden and springy.  Leave to cool in the tin.  Sift the icing sugar and a little ground cinnamon over the top and serve.

Party party

Yesterday we hosted a tea party for a 3 year old. Most of her guests were adults but the children who did come had squash in tea cups poured from pretty tea pots. Note to self: remember this simple change to tea parties for next season because the kids really love it.
Today we held baby Daniel's Christening celebration. Lots of banners and balloons, sandwiches and scones, cakes and canapés. And lovely people. Which isn't alliterative.
By 4 o'clock, as the poor weather set in, the last customers left.
I was home by 5.30.
It's properly autumn now.

Confession

Among the first customers were three regular visitors who sat in the conservatory and drank americanos.
Among the last customers were the same three people, who sat at the same table, in the same seats and drank tea and ate scones.
In the interim they had been somewhere for lunch.
They told me that they think of the tea rooms as their special place and they love to come. But they were horrified when they came on one of the Bank Holidays this year to find a queue to the door and every table full.
We have had amazing Bank Holidays this season. Sunny, hot and incredibly busy.
They don't make me happy though.
I like people to see us at our best, to have a chat about cake, coffee strength, tea in pots and how lovely the china is, the surprising beauty of the Church and the shocking state of the drive.
On a busy Bank Holiday all this goes out of the window as multiple trays full of food and drink are carried out and multiple trays full of debris and remains are carried in. It's all a bit of a rush and not conducive to pleasant conversation and individual attention.
And it takes us ages to clear up at the end of the day...

Grounded

Ha.
Wasps don't seem to like rain.
The rain today was very welcome.

Lovely customers. Not in large numbers (because of the welcome rain) but nevertheless lovely.

Her loss

Apparently Miley Cyrus was in Great Witley last Sunday.
She signed the Church visitors' book.
She didn't sign ours, but maybe that's because she didn't make it down the path to the tea room and didn't fancy a homemade scone and a nice cup of tea.

The Late Show

The Langley Local History Society was late. 

Thank goodness.

The day turned into a beautiful one, as predicted, and couples and families and groups of friends braved the wasps and came out in the hot sunshine which meant that we were very VERY busy at the appointed hour of 1pm. 

When the nineteen arrived at a quarter to 2 (they had very kindly warned us that they were behind schedule) we were in a far better state to receive them.  

A little luck can make all the difference. 

Pest

Distinctly autumnal this morning but I am assured that the fog will lift, the grass will dry and that we're in for another beautifully hot day.
I shall be doing battle with the wasps again, this time to try to deter them from ruining the Langley Local History Society visit.
I'd love them to be able to have their lunch outside.
The wasps may love that too.

I find myself grateful that the forecasters are offering rain later this week. With luck this will mean I can write about something other than insects.

Menace

Wasps continue to annoy though in significantly lower numbers.
I have colourful wasp catchers hanging in the garden.
I have fresh mint in jars on the tables (apparently wasps hate the smell of mint - who knew?).
I have citronella tea lights in jars.
I have a swatter.


Do I feel sorry for the slaughter of the little striped things?
No.
They have been attacking one of our hives. Our lovely hardworking bees have been killed for the honey they've spent weeks making.
No. With wasps I am hard line.

Ello Ella

Dear Agony Aunt,
We are plagued with wasps.
There are thousands of them drawn by the jam we serve with our scones.
It's really annoying.
We've set out jars with a little jam and water, strategically placed to lure them away from our customers but it only works up to point. Several people have given up and taken their tea inside.
I need a new plan.
I am investigating making attractive wasp traps. Before peak wasp time tomorrow.
I don't need your help with this.

Here's my query:
When we were discussing stuff that wasps don't like I mixed up limoncello and citronella.
Is this age?
If so should I keep them in different cupboards?

P p p priceless

Overheard yesterday, from an older lady to a young boy:
"Can you think of the name of a black and white bird?"
Silence.
"A black and white bird that lives at the South Pole?"
More silence...and then:
"A cow?"

One Year Out

The Pop Master genie is still working his magic.
Now though it's even better.
Those who come in and ask if I was the woman on Pop Master on Radio 2 have now forgotten how badly I did way back in March (12points) and just recall that I mentioned the tea rooms. A lot.
They usually ask me to remind them if I made it through to 3-in-10 (yes, but only because the second contestant was even less of a master of pop than I am) and what 3-in-10 I was asked (Daryl Hall and John Oates - no chance).
Thank you, Ken.

Veg to differ.

Courgettes. Not my favourite vegetable I'll admit but as an ingredient they are magnificent.
Currently we are being brought lots by local growers and we're making courgette, celery and pea soup.
I shall also be asking Claire to make her fine Mystery Chocolate Cake next week.
The mystery?

Setting the world to rights

Four smartly dressed women sat in the garden with their coffees.
I was clearing tables around them and in the few minutes spent in earshot they had identified several things wrong with society:

1. The queues in M&S cafes.
2. Mothers who let their children eat things out of the trolley as they go around Asda.
3. Mobile phones.

The main worry about number 3 is, from what I could gather, that young people can't be separated from them and are always staring at them.
Sometimes young mothers who do this are the same people involved in number 2.
From inside one of their handbags a phone was heard to ring.
It rang and rang as the owner, increasingly desperate, tried to find it.
She couldn't.
It stopped ringing.
Probably for the best.

Gratis

A couple bought one of our plants today. Outside we have an amazing array provided by a local specialist nursery.
I commented as they left how unusual it was. A sort of tall blue thistle (pls note: no gardening knowledge).
"Yes, it's lovely," said he, "and it almost came with a free bee."
She laughed.
"Free bee" she echoed.
We all laughed.

Red

Our little stock of lost property is growing by the week.
We almost have enough children's sip beaker things to open a store.
Albeit a store of second hand, used , slightly chewed sip beaker things.
So perhaps I shouldn't approach Dragons' Den just yet.

I've been away for a week. A lovely break of sleeping. And reading. And trying not to burn.

I loved Danny Baker's autobiography, "Going to Sea in a Sieve" and Jack Dee's "Thanks for Nothing".
I also read "After Iris. The Diaries of Bluebell Gadsby" which is meant for teens but which I thought was a fab read. Great characters, good story. Written by my friend Natasha Farrant.

I am not at all biased. Honest.
If I hadn't liked it I simply wouldn't have mentioned it.

Entitled

I met a lovely couple today who may hold their wedding reception with us in September.
They had been to the Court where one of the English Heritage staff directed them to us, presumably telling them to go and see the tea rooms lady, Gill.

They came to the counter and asked to speak to Lady Gill.

It has a fine ring to it.
I can dream can't I?

Delivery for Daisy

Milk is an issue on these hot days.
Most people are drinking cold juices and ginger beer and old fashioned lemonade.
That sort of thing.
I have made one hot chocolate in the past three days.
There've been a handful of lattes. Nothing like our usual number.
So less milk is needed, right?
And yet yesterday I ran out.

So when Andy the milkman came today with my delivery I asked if he had any extra pintas on his van. Everyone had felt the same on his round so all his spares had gone.
We pondered.
Could I get through to Friday with what I had?

Then Andy came up with a solution:
"I'll bring more tomorrow, " he said, "I've got to pass this way to drop off some bull semen."

Yes. I'll make sure I check the label....

Hot dogs

The amazing heatwave continues. I've lost count of the number of days now but I'm watering the little plants that we sell twice a day and we've drafted in extra fans for the kitchen.
So it must be really hot.
Few can bear to be inside and it's a welcome relief to carry a tray outside to the tables in the shade under the trees. I have to stop myself from pulling up a chair....

One family brought their dog. In a coat.
But this was no ordinary coat.
It was a cooler coat.
They explained that it's like a chamois leather which they soak in water, wring out and then put it on the dog. It stays cool for about four hours as it dries.
We also had two families bring dog water bottles and bowls with them.
Properly prepared for the heat.
Unlike me.
The red-faced woman in a pinny.

Immaterial

Our last customers of the day had tea in the garden with their children.
They were celebrating their diamond wedding anniversary.
Sixty years ago today, when she was twenty and he twenty-one, they tied the knot in Worcester. Her parents had had to sign permission forms so that she might marry before she was 21.
I asked what else they were doing to celebrate?
They told me that at the weekend all their family will be getting together for a meal.
He will be wearing his wedding shirt.
A shirt she gave him for his twenty-first birthday.
A white shirt she paid a week's wages for.
The first nylon shirt either of them had ever owned.

Cool customers

This evening as I drove my two minute off-road commute home the digital display in my car (about the most mod of mod cons in my vehicle) told me it was 23 degrees.
At 7pm.
I could only imagine what the temperature had been earlier in the day when two ladies ordered their lunch.
They went to sit outside together with absolutely everyone else who came today.
But moments later they came back in.
"May we sit in the conservatory?" they asked, "it's a bit chilly out there."
I, fanning my face, answered that they could of course sit anywhere, but that the conservatory was incredibly hot.
"We want hot" they said, pulling their cardigans close around them.
They sat and had their lunch in their cardis, on one of the hottest days of the year so far. And looked at those sitting outside as if they were mad.

Back to the Future

Today the tea rooms telephone is out of order.
This means we reentered the Dark Ages.
We still received all the phone calls we should (BT kindly forwarded them all to my mobile).
What was scuppered was the credit/debit card machine.
Which uses the 'phone line.
So for the few who didn't have enough cash to pay for their cake/ice cream/tea/strawberries we produced some of those paper slips to take the details of their card and then I had to 'phone through to  an automated line for approval.
It took an age.
Actually it took two: stone and iron.

The line is still not fixed.
They say it'll be done tomorrow....
Then we'll return to the 21stC.

Worth the wait

Please give a big hand to the Witley Strawberry.
It's a little late to the stage, so late that it pretty much missed Wimbledon, but nevertheless it's very welcome.
We are serving our strawberries in china tea cups on china saucers with a jug of local single cream.
Very soon we shall be doing the same with the Witley raspberries when they choose to make their (late) appearance.

Ace

That was hot.
Really hot.
Lots of ice cream and Mary's homemade fruit ice lollies (have to order more).
Lots of cold drinks.
And just the four hot chocolates.
All weekend.

I slept in a tent last night after dancing in the open air at a local fundraising thing called Chill on the Hill.
And then today Andy Murray only goes and wins Wimbledon.

What a weekend.

Whether the weather be fine

Last year I grew so tired of the meteorologist people forecasting "unsettled" weather.
It meant rain, or the suspicion of rain.
It did not mean good weather interspersed with fairly good weather and a nice cool breeze.
Not that kind of unsettled.
It meant stay-at-home-you'll-probably-get-wet weather. And if you do go out take your brolly and waterproof trousers. And make sure your wellies are in the car.

This weekend, starting tomorrow, the weather people are pushing the boat out.
Not only are they saying it ain't gonna rain, they're suggesting we're in for a heatwave.
That will last a good way into next week.
I am elated.
The tearooms LOVE sunshine.
The parasols will be used as parasols instead of as umbrellas.
People will come in to order and will comment that it's way too hot.
I shall need my factor 30 just to deliver the trays outside.
We won't sell any hot chocolate.*

Am feeling good about it.
Mainly because for once I have actually ordered enough ice cream and fruit ice lollies.
And the boxes of local apple juice are being delivered tomorrow.


*this is not necessarily a good thing.

Tea for Tuition

My University gals have returned to me.
Sort of.
One, back from Bristol, wants as much work as possible to raise the funds to take her horse to University with her next year.
The second, back from Cardiff, has done a couple of shifts before flying out to Thailand for a month.
The third, back from Cambridge, dropped in for tea this afternoon before she takes up her holiday job in the Alps. She says she'll be home in September.

A big day.

Today.

25 for lunch at 1215 before they leave for a tour of the church and crypt.

10 invigilators for lunch (from the local High School).

31 for dinner to celebrate Charlie and Matt's second wedding anniversary.
Which means it's two years since we catered their wedding on that glorious day in that glorious marquee.

How time flies.

In tents.

Yesterday was interesting.
Four of us started at 7.30 making sandwiches, wrapping cakes, florentines, brownies and the like for a catering stall within the grounds of Witley Court.
This weekend there's a Victorian Garden Party taking place. They have musicians and actors, games and trails and short talks on things like body snatching and Victorian etiquette.
We had put up two (borrowed) gazebos near the spectacular fountain.
It was all to be ready at 11am for the start of the event...
Except that at about 10.30 a gust of wind tore one gazebo's pegs out of the ground, lifted it up and smashed it into pieces.
Fortunately the food stuff hadn't been brought over at that point so no cake was harmed.
We moved site. To the other side of the fountain.
We set out our stall.
We made coffee and tea, and sold sandwiches, strawberries and cream, cakes and even Pimms to Court visitors, some of whom were dressed in appropriate costumes. These were members of a Victorian society who were seeing two of their number renew their vows in the Church after 30 years of marriage and who made quite a spectacle as they walked through the grounds (some of them now clutching authentic Victorian rippled take-away cups).
It wasn't my busiest ever day.
Nor the best weatherwise.
Fortunately the tea room was busy.

Today we do the whole thing all over again.
Minus the broken gazebo. I hope.

Crumbs

I was asked earlier this year if I could provide coffee and biscuits for a very large coach party.
Of course I said yes, and had an instant image of custard creams. Before I knew what I was doing I told them we would provide coffee and HOMEMADE biscuits.
The night before they arrived I was cursing myself.
The day of their visit I was patting myself on the back.
They were really appreciated even if some of the biscuits weren't exactly regular and a few decidedly misshapen.

So, fast forward to yesterday.
Yesterday was smashing.
Twenty eight (including Andy the coach driver) from Oakengates Age Concern group in Shropshire had a day out. We served them coffee and home made biscuits when they arrived.
Again the homemade element hit the spot.
Then they went off for a talk in the church about its history and returned at 1pm for lunch.
We served our first strawberries and cream of the season to them.
They went off to see the 2pm fountain.
They came back for more tea and coffee.
They bought plants and bottles of elderflower presse and Andy drove them home.

These midweek group visits are rapidly becoming a favourite.

In the USA a few years ago I saw a sign outside a restaurant which said everything was "Ho - made". I shall not be putting up such a sign in Great Witley.

Always right.

"What's the soup of the day?" they asked.
I told them it was asparagus, made at the tearooms using the crop grown in the village.
There were wrinkled noses.
"We don't like asparagus" she said and continued to study the menu.
Now I know some people don't like asparagus, but I also know how good our soup is. He looked at me and could, I think, sense my disappointment.
"Oh go on then," he said, "I'll have the soup."
I told him he shouldn't have it if he wasn't going to enjoy it. There were plenty of other lovely things on offer. But would he like a little taste of it just to see....
I brought him a small amount in a ramekin.
He tried it. 
His wife finished it off.
They both ordered soup.

Hot potato

Today, as every day, we put the new potatoes into a pan to cook.
Ten or fifteen minutes later they were drained and kept warm, ready for lunch.
On the first quiche order the salad was prepared and then the coleslaw and new pots added and went outside to a lady in the sunshine.
Who fortunately had a sense of humour.
Her new potatoes were raw.
The gas hadn't been on.

When I went to speak to her to apologise she was utterly lovely.
She says she's coming back again tomorrow.
I shall personally check those spuds.

On another table outside a couple pulled out a folded page from last year's Essentials magazine which featured the tea rooms and stories of various customers-of-the-day. I suggested if they wanted that accolade then they had to do something pretty eccentric (like eat a raw potato). The gentleman suggested he might serenade everyone in the garden.
That would have done it.
He didn't.

Sun specs

It's been a very long time since the forecasters gave us so much good news.
Sunny and dry all week.
Have ordered more of everything.
Hope I'm not just seeing the world through dark rose tinted glasses.

Not everyone's cup of tea.

A wonderfully busy weekend (which started with a BIG Friday).
Today there was a 5pm concert in the church, as most Sundays.
Today the choir sang the music from the Coronation (60 years ago today) and a former vicar who lives in the parish shared his memories of being a choirboy in Westminster Abbey when the Queen was crowned.
A family of 3 generations was leaving the tea rooms just before the concert began.
I mentioned what was going on and suggested they might like to see it. It was only going to be 45 minutes long, I said, and might be a good way to finish their outing.
"What do you think, mum?" the oldest member of the group was asked, "would you like to hear that?"
"No, I don't like coronation music," she answered, "I prefer something more bouncy."

What a feeling

Everyone needs an Adrian.
We call our Adrian when something breaks, won't open, won't close or is in danger of falling over. We call him when we need a cupboard door put on, when a loo is blocked or when the guttering needs replacing.
He is marvellous.
Today he popped in for a cup of coffee (I can always find him a job that needs doing) and told us he had a cold. He rubbed his eyes.
"Hay fever?" I asked.
"Arc eye," he answered, and then asked me a question in return.. "Have you ever welded without wearing a mask?"
Guess what the answer was....

The Feds.

I need to say something.
I am very grateful to whoever has arranged for TWO sunny bank holiday weekends in one month.
It has made me tired but happy.
And I don't care that it's now raining.
Although it would be nice if it dried up (and warmed up) tomorrow.

I shall soon be sent a certificate which I shall paste into my scrapbook next to the one I was given for swimming 25 metres.
This one says that we are now members of the Federation of Small Businesses.
I also have a sticker.
Not sure what to do with that.

A new leaf.

This evening is book group.
This is my chance to chat to a group of lovely ladies of the same age and hormone levels about life, our kids, our husbands, the funny things people have said and done to us. And we might spend a few minutes on the book. My first question on this topic tonight will be "what was I supposed to have read?". No one will mind. We shall dutifully pick another title for next time. I shall endeavour to read it. Promise.
On Tuesday of this week five ladies came to lunch.
They were celebrating 35 years of their book group.
They are currently reading their 99th book. And they really do read them and discuss them.
They brought a photograph album which housed a picture taken at the tea rooms when they celebrated the group's twentieth year.
I am in awe. Must try harder.

To distraction

Last week I had a slow puncture in a rear tyre.
Well ok it was three weeks ago but I kept blowing it up until last week when I finally got around to having it repaired.
The repair happened on Friday.
This morning, driving to pick up asparagus spears, a journey of some two thirds of a mile, I hit a pot hole. By the time I'd reached the tea rooms my front tyre was almost flat.
*sigh*
This time it couldn't be repaired.
Either my driving is terrible or there's a conspiracy involving the local garage....

One off.

A brilliantly sunny day.
Unexpectedly.
Most people sat outside and soaked up the warmth.
A coach brought 46 visitors from Coventry National Trust Association to see the Court and Church and eat, in the main, tea cakes and cheese scones.
One lady asked for jam with her cheese scone.
That's never happened before.

For Queen and Country.

I have heard on the radio today that the government is offering cash incentives to small businesses if their staff join the army reserves.
I am going to put it to my trusty workforce.
Nancie already says she'll do it if :
a) they'll take pensioners
b) they provide a mobility scooter and
c) she can be back to help with the Young at Heart group on Wednesdays.

Barking

"A ham sandwich please." he said.
"On white or granary bread?" we asked.
"It doesn't matter. It's for my dog."


Then today. Another man. A different man.

"Two teas and a tub of ice cream, please"
"I'm really sorry but we're out of ice cream. We have a fruit ice lolly?"
"That's ok. Just the teas then. The ice cream is for the dog."

Banking on sunshine

That was a weekend and a half.
No really it was. Two days. Plus an extra day.
When we have good weather for a Bank Holiday there is no stopping the great British public. They eat cake. They drink cold drinks. They drink tea. They eat sandwiches. They eat ice cream.
On this occasion they ate us out of ice cream.
Every chairs outside was occupied. People brought their own rugs. Some even brought their own chairs.
It was a magnificent sight.

Bank

My feet ache.
I can barely think let alone type.
That was a phenomenal weekend.
I shall have to go and lie down and think of how to sum it up...

An addendum to the last post....

Today a lady looked at the cakes and asked if we had anything egg-free.
We don't unfortunately. Just gluten and/or dairy-free.
She told me that we really should have something for vegans and suggested we ought to stock flapjacks.
A good idea and one I shall certainly consider.
Then she ordered an earl grey tea.
With milk.

What Women Want

"Black coffee please and a scone with jam and cream," she said.
But she didn't really mean it.  
I delivered the order to the table.
"May I have some milk for my coffee?" she said.
I apologised. Said I thought, wrongly, that she wanted it black.
"Oh I probably ordered black. I'm always doing that."

Then there was the lady who asked if the soup was gluten-free.
Yes it is. Always. Although we don't have gluten-free bread to go with it (must do something about that).
She had the bread anyway.
Then she ordered a gluten-free orange, carrot and sultana cake.
When we took it to her she greeted it warmly: "I don't suppose this will be as nice as the cake I had 2 days ago."
Hmmm.
When I next went through the plate was clean.
And she was eating a scone.
Our scones are not gluten-free.
But that didn't seem to worry her.

Then there was the lady who told me she'd really enjoyed her jacket potato. 
"It's been a lovely interlude here," she beamed, "and it's my 85th birthday."
She was another who had to look to the gluten-free cakes on offer. I took her the ginger and lemon with a candle in it.
As I approached the table everyone in the conservatory started to sing.
I found out her name during line 2 and shouted it to the choir before the crucial bit.
"Happy Birthday dear Betty..."
Her daughter told me she was chuffed to bits.

Remote Control

My father arrived this morning with more plants for the conservatory.
He is my head gardener* and I pay him in coffee.

Today he's put in six oleander of different hues.

But the most interesting thing about this tale is that he bought them from a television shopping channel. 
Which means he was watching a tv shopping channel. 

Am now worried he might become addicted and blow my inheritance.

*only gardener

Really not our bag

Sunday.

Noah was baptised in the Church and came to us for his family celebration with 34 friends and family members.
He had a wonderful Ark cake with big-eyed animals all over it.
He's ten months old so it was eaten for him as he slept.

Then later a double birthday High Tea.
Sandwiches, cakes, scones with jam and cream, pots and pots of tea and multiple smiles.

Some people from the group which came yesterday returned for lunch and to collect a bag they'd left. An enormous green flowery hold-all which we'd found in the garden at close of play.
After their lunch yesterday I cleared their table and saw that they'd not only left it again but had also forgotten a second bag. Bags and owners have now been reunited.

I have had such a glorious weekend.
More of the same please.

Parish in the Spring

Saturday.
44 people, all descendants of rectors of the village going back to the early 19thC, arrived on a warm sunny morning. Most had never met anyone else there but it felt like a school reunion. They had coffee in the garden, swapped archive material and photos of The Old Rectory and its former inhabitants and then went off for a talk in the Church, saw the newly opened crypt and came back for lunch.
Among them was Josceline Dimbleby whose book, The Cook's Companion, has been very well loved and used in our house.
It's a bit dog eared to be honest, but that didn't stop me asking her to sign it.
And the visitors' book.
After she'd complimented the homemade rhubarb and orange cake and homemade honey ice cream. Once I was confident that she'd write something lovely.

The group left for Abberley Hall but in late afternoon several of them came back for tea and cake. And then yesterday another group of them came back for lunch.

Am really chuffed.

Yesterday was a wonderful day.

Lovely.

We have a Christening Party today and a Birthday High Tea. This morning I'm concentrating on making sure those go as well. 

After that I shall write more about the joy of Saturday.

Cook's Tour

Josceline Dimbleby is coming to lunch at the tea rooms tomorrow.
Eek.

Twice shy

"An espresso long," he said.
"Ooo," I replied, "I don't know what that is."
He sighed. And, sort of, tutted. Enough to make me feel unworldly.
"It's a double espresso" (I think he may even have said "doppio" but I was concentrating hard so my inner Italian must've kicked in) "except you put water through the coffee twice.". He went on, slowly..."you ...push ...the ...double-espresso-button ....twice".

It felt wrong. But I did it.

No accounting for taste

We have a menu.
And within certain parameters it can be adapted by request.
So a sandwich filling becomes part of the Ploughman's Lunch, a panini filling stuffs a jacket potato etc. and can make for some interesting orders.

We shall wait a long time to beat this one:
Smoked salmon, cream cheese and coleslaw.
Cooked in a panini *.



*yes, yes I know, singular is panino. It just looks and sounds wrong.

Cheery thoughts

A lovely bright sunny day yesterday and all was right with my world.
I even took the dog for a little walk round the Court, which she loved until the bird scarers (or dog scarers as we know them) started up. 
My mood couldn't even be dented by the man who booked for a group to come in June but added, "if we haven't been nuked by the North Koreans by then." 
Obviously I wouldn't hold him to his booking were that to happen.
Perhaps I should have asked for a deposit.

Not so Crowded House

Friday proved to be the quietest of the week. But then we did have the strange weather to contend with.

It was miserable and wet in the morning.

Got a bit better.

Sunshine and warmth.

Then another shower.

More sunshine which brought a few visitors.

Then HAIL bouncing off the roof of the conservatory and drowning out the conversations.

Not quite four seasons in one day.

But not far off.

Naughty.

Today we had a group of people on a coach from South Wales.
Ate a lot of cake.
Drank a lot of coffee and tea.
As I brought two slices of coffee and walnut to two ladies they rubbed their hands together.
"We're on holiday," they said, "and when we're on holiday we always have mucky cake."
The word "mucky" was delivered with relish and an eye twinkle.

The Cook Report

Two visitors of note today.
The first, a man I recognised but couldn't place.
I assumed he was a returning customer and greeted him warmly:
"Your first visit this season?" I asked.
"My first ever visit," he replied.
I said I recognised him from somewhere.
"I work at the hospital in Worcester," he said, modestly.
Ah yes.
He was the A&E doctor who treated me for an allergic reaction to hydrocortisone exactly a month ago.

As he left to take a seat Roger Cook walked in.
Roger Cook.
In my tea rooms.
Roger.
Cook.

We don't get many celebs round these parts.
He had lunch. But I couldn't tempt him to cake. No sweet tooth. He does, however, like cheese.
I urged him to write in the visitors' book.
He obliged:
"Splendid! Nothing to investigate here."

Reading matters

Note in the visitors' book:
"Love the newly manicured conservatory, but where are the magazines???"

I hadn't realised they were so important.
Have now bought an array including the latest Cosmopolitan which of course has the word "orgasm" in large letters on the front cover.
I didn't notice when I bought it.
My teenage son pointed it out.

Changing rooms

The new look conservatory...complete with all those chairs I painted over the winter, and a little sunshine.

Grand

Finally, a lovely day. No ice cold wind, just warm sunshine which allowed people to bask in the conservatory heat or venture outside.
The first visitors took their tea outside and then offered me their wedding china. They celebrate their fiftieth anniversary later this year and their children are replacing the whole set.  So they need a good home for it.
I made red onion marmalade for the first time. Ever. To go with the cheddar sandwiches and possibly the ploughmans. One solitary jar came out of it. Another lesson learned.
Claire made me a Red Velvet cake especially for Grand National Day. It just seemed perfect - Red Rum/National Velvet. Convoluted but popular. Another one to remember for next year...

Advance warming

This is a post to myself in a year's time.
It's cold today. Dry but cold.
Finger numbingly cold.
Which means that fewer people come out, yes, but they ALL want hot chocolate.
So.
Though the numbers are low, you are still likely to run out of milk.
Order more milk or you'll face a race to the Post Office.

One more thing.
Even in cold weather kids like to eat ice cream.
Order more than you think you'll need.

A Spring in the step

Yesterday, Tuesday, it happened.
People sat outside. Willingly. And didn't freeze.
We are making huge amounts of hot chocolate and the panini machine is working its heart out.

Don't know much about geometry.

There are some clever kids around.
One eleven year old boy ordered a brownie today.
"Shall we cut it in half?" asked his mum.
"That's not easy to do," he answered, "It's an isosceles triangle, not equilateral. We'd have to measure it."
They didn't cut it. He had the whole brownie. She had fruit cake.

1912

This is Dorothy who graces our tea rooms regularly with her daughter and son-in-law. She is, I believe, our oldest customer. On St George's Day she'll be 101. 

She says her great age is attributable to porridge.

But she does like chocolate cake too.

A timely reminder.

I feel so foolish.
Have just read a post from this time last year.
I told myself to remember that poor weather does not a poor Bank Holiday make.
I didn't.
I forgot.
Will try to remember for Monday.

Snowed

I woke to sunshine.
And still I didn't realise just how busy we would be.
I nipped home before opening to pick up the final two tables for the conservatory and by the time I returned (ten minutes later) I had an audience. Early birds for coffee.
And yet still it didn't occur to me that we'd be inundated. How many Bank Holidays have I done now? Why do I never learn?
There was still snow on the ground but I shouldn't underestimate the power of the sun on sun-starved people like us. It makes people eat cake.
We ran around all day. We ran out of bread, panini, cottage rolls...
At four o'clock, when things had calmed down considerably, the electricity gave up.
I do not want to talk about this.
For a while at least.

Taking a chill pill

Another cold one. But the stories from Andy the milkman and the two boys who collected the bins show we're having it easy compared to some.
The conservatory is SO nearly ready to rumble...just a couple more tables to install and we're there. That's when I can take a photo. Should be tomorrow. I feel so much better. Not quite as tense. A miracle. Now if only it would warm up.
All the outside tables and chairs are now, well, outside.
I shall note when the first hardy souls choose to sit out.
Rather them than me.

Inglorious Mud

Ta-da.
The tea rooms opened its doors today for my fourth season.
Seven months of seven days a week lie ahead.
I was making a double espresso to get Freda through the soup-and scone-making process (always tricky on the first day back at school) when I noticed it was snowing. SNOWING. Last year at this time people were sipping their tea in the garden.
I am always genuinely surprised when people come on days like this but come they did. Not in huge numbers but in friendly pairs. All were people who'd been before. Not only had they come through snow but along a mud-caked track.
They all need to wash their cars now.
It was warm inside the tea room, but the china was freezing when it came out of the cupboards. And no one spent much time in the loos - Baltic cold in all of them.
To those who ventured out, I salute you.

Tea Tense

My coffee machine was serviced today in readiness for the new season.
Chairs were delivered.  My kids would call them old-school, which they are. Literally.
I ordered some bottles of local apple juice and some half moons of Lightwood cheddar.
I wrote the new menu on the boards.
I carried all the newly painted white chairs through to the conservatory (which will not be ready to receive visitors until Friday) so that the carpet in the tea room can be cleaned tomorrow.
I did some other stuff which is even more dull but which needed doing.
There is still snow on the ground.
It's still cold.
There's still rather a lot on the 'to do' list.
I am quite stressed.
We reopen on Wednesday.

Snow joke

This is the tea rooms this afternoon. We reopen on Wednesday for the Summer season. This could be interesting.

Post haste

The Mp3 player I earned with the whopping twelve point score yesterday (see yesterday) has already arrived.
I sense that Mr Bruce wants our relationship over and done with.
My sleep last night was disturbed by reruns of the whole sorry episode.

Pop goes the Bubble

I had thought I was quite good at pop trivia.
Until today.
(In a similar vein I had thought I could dance. Until I started Zumba classes a few months ago.)
This morning I rang the Radio 2 number to try to take part in Popmaster on Ken Bruce's programme. I was asked 3 trial questions which I got right and went into the draw for contestants.
And out came my name.
Which meant that at half past 10, when I should had been cleaning the cake display cabinet, I found myself standing in the conservatory trying to answer correctly the 10 questions Mr Bruce asked. I managed to answer 8, but sadly only 3 of them were right.
The other contestant, Maxine, had an even worse set of questions than I did.
Which meant I won. Sort of. And was through to the dreaded next round where you have to name three hit songs by a given artist in ten seconds.
I can never do this. Unless it's The Jam . Or maybe The Beatles.
I got Daryl Hall and John Oates.
And I can't go for that.
No.
No can do.

Stirring

Today I shall mostly be painting spoons.
Not teaspoons but the wooden spoons we use for orders. They have numbers painted on them and it helps us to find people when we're busy.
Strangely I have developed favourite numbers. This means as soon as a particular spoon comes back to the counter I'll send it out again leaving many spoons under-used and forlorn.
I know it's a character flaw and I am trying to kick this habit but since there is no specific therapy I've decided to introduce some new numbers into the system. On pink painted spoons.
Shake it up a bit.
One might imagine I have too much time on my hands....

@tearoomsgill

A new day has dawned.
For too long I have had a twitter account. Not dormant, because that suggests it was once used and is now just sleeping. But mine has never been used. It was created for me and until today I didn't even know where to find it.
I've now had a quick lesson (thank you, Sharon) and all that's left to do is to come up with some incisive, short thoughts which are worth reading.

Let's see how that goes.

Painting by numbers

Chair news will come to an end soon. I hope. For all our sake.
It's been a much more productive week with five chairs completed, although please don't look too closely. There's a lot of slap and even more dash about these five.
Twelve more to go.
The revamp of the kitchen will begin at the weekend. This involves a wall being moved.
Then it'll be time for the deep cleaning.
Oh joy.

Hot off the press

My world is a little more exciting today.

Firstly I have bought a new panini press for the forthcoming season. Panini are proving very popular and scuffles could break out if we don't increase our output. We could only cook three at a time last year but 2013 sees the dawn of six-at-a-time. Now we just have to find room for it....

Secondly I've had an email from the lovely people at World Book Night to say they've chosen us (presumably from thousands of entrants) to give away twenty copies of The Knife of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. On 23rd April we have to try to tempt those who aren't big readers to take a free copy.  I haven't read it yet so am not sure how to coax but it has great reviews and has won prizes so how hard can it be?

Have added "read book" to my list of stuff to do.

Habit forming

The varnish is drying on chair number 15 but I've added tables to my workload now so who knows whether they'll be finished in time.
Opening day feels much closer since I did the following:
1. Announced it in the parish mag.
2. Realised it's March next week.
3. Booked our staff outing.
We go somewhere special for Afternoon Tea every year.
This year we're going to Stanbrook Abbey near Malvern. It's just been converted to a very swanky wedding and conference venue after the Benedictine nuns who'd lived there moved up to Yorkshire.
We'll have tea and I'll announce all the changes to the menu which I should have worked out by then....

I can't paint with crossed fingers...

Seven weeks to reopening.
Eleven chairs painted.
I have so many targets (new table coverings, something exciting for the garden, menu additions, the kitchen revamp) but find myself standing in the kitchen listening to Popmaster and wishing the same elves who visited the shoemaker would come.
Sigh.

New Year revolution

The project to revamp the conservatory has begun.
Today not only did I get dressed (unlike yesterday) but I also painted three chairs.
Just 32 to go.