Rules is Rules

 We have several new young people washing up for us this season. 

The youngest are three 15 year olds. They’re about to start year 11 at the local school. The two boys and one girl are all friends and make the job fun. There’s a lot of laughter and singing as they go about cleaning the plates and cups and pans and cutlery. 

At their age they are not allowed to do certain things. 

The law states that they can’t, for example, wash sharp knives, they can’t go near the cooker, they can’t make a cup of tea because of the boiling water. 

Neither can they work more than two hours on a Sunday. Which seems anachronistic.

On a Saturday they work a five hour day. The next day, Sunday, they do two hours each, crossing over for half an hour. A sort of relay.

And after two hours they go home, where they can put the kettle on and make tea, or prepare their own lunch using sharp knives and a cooker. 

Art exhibition

Lunches, for those working at the tearooms, are rarely at lunchtime.

We keep going on snacks and drinks until the kitchen closes and we can send people to eat their chosen sandwich/toastie/soup in a corner of the tearoom where they can check their phones and have a breather.

Today when Hannah made all the staff sandwiches she wrote a name and drew a little picture on the cling film. 

Hannah is very artistic and creative. 

Everyone has off days. 

This is, in case of any doubt, Hannah’s drawing of a cat:

Goal achieved

 A Saturday in July would usually yield ice cream, cold drinks and iced lattes sales with customers sitting outside enjoying the warmth of the day in the garden.

Today was more like an autumn Saturday. 

It rained, it was cold. The doors and windows in the conservatory remained closed. We had a very slow start. 

Then, suddenly, as we were about to close the kitchen at the end of lunch service, we took a raft of panini orders, coffee orders, scone orders, hot chocolate orders. A hen party of seven turned up. We were busy. 

But we were all out of there by 4.30pm and home to watch the England match. 

Change

This is my fifteenth season.

I have recently decided that it will also be my last. I’ll be hanging up my apron on Sunday 3rd November and handing over the tearooms to a yet-to-be-decided someone.

Like the Conservatives I have been in power since 2010. It’s time for a change. 

I shall try to document these last few months if only so that I remember them in the years to come when I’m hoping to be doing something entirely different. 

I’ll miss it, I’m sure. There are so many good things about working there. So many things I’ll miss.

On Sunday a lady ordered a smoked salmon panini for her young son. We asked her if she was sure? The smoked salmon would be heated by the panini press. We had never done one before. 

Yes, she said, he was a fussy eater and that’s what he wanted. She thanked us for doing it.

Later she thanked me for clearing up the mess after her son threw up on the patio.

Yes. There’s a lot I shall miss. 

A question of taste

 “The cheese you use in your sandwiches, what is it?”

We use a Taw Valley Cheddar.

“Is it nice?”

I answer that it is, despite the fact that I don’t like cheese. Unless it’s melted. Which doesn’t count here. I answer yes because we’ve always had good comments on it. 

She continues:

“And the plum and balsamic onion relish,” she is reading from the menu, “is that nice?” 

The urge to use sarcasm is strong.

I squash it.