Part 15. Jump into The Fire
A recipe for mango and thyme tatin, plus, we meet experts, train our Keanu and invent a friend.
The alarm shouts at us 6.30am, no time today for the snooze button.
I do a stumbled walk downstairs, while Donna gets ready for the day.
I feed the cat.
I put the kettle on and make some instant coffee.
I take a mug of black coffee upstairs to Donna.
I wash the face, brush the teeth, then get ready.
We remind each other of things that need remembering.
We both glance at the red numbers on the digital clock.
We know that we have to make a detour to the supermarket for some Yorkshire Feta (it changed it’s name later, due the the Greeks being a bit peeved), so we need to up the gears.
If the wholesaler had it in stock, no detour would have been needed.
I’m ready first, so I plod back downstairs and chat to the cat.
Then I get the bits we need.
A handful of change is stuffed in the pocket for the till, a few more tea towels.
Donna meets me downstairs.
She grabs a lighter for the candles on the table, because the other one gave up last night.
Bin bags, don’t forget some black bin bags.
Oh yea, and a corkscrew, the one we’re using is already knackered.
We need to move faster, the traffic will build up soon.
We head for the front door.
Hang on, did we turn the kitchen light off? Yes! No!
Donna checks, yes it was off, 7 seconds wasted on checking.
Say bye to the cat.
We fall into the car, reverse, go.
Straight to the dual carriageway, drive, then detour to collect the cheese, then back onto the dual carriageway, desperate to beat the traffic build up.
Then we drive to York from Stockton on Tees, the same way we drove home at midnight the day before. It’s an hours drive.
Still just as tired, the sleep hasn't made a difference.
Park up, feed the meter, there goes the profit from two lunch tables.
Look for cheaper parking in the new year.
Start the walk to Vanilla Black, taking the shortcuts to gain a second or two..
Then we stop, turn back and collect the forgotten bag of extras from the car, the stuff we weren't supposed to forget.
Donna takes the door keys and breaks off to the restaurant, I go the other way to grab some milk.
York is a magical city at Christmas time, red nosed carol singers collecting money for charity, a geezer with one of those roasted chestnut machines, and the annual Christmas market selling glittery things to frost bitten shoppers.
But the only time we saw any of this was when we ran over to M&S in between services because we’d run out of cabbage/carrots/sugar, or anything else the coach loads decided to hit us on.
We had been open for less than a month, and the last few days before Christmas were upon us, and they felt like they were actually on us.
We planned to close over Christmas and New Year, just based on the notices in other restaurant windows. These guys knew what they were doing. So it was a case of coping with the high volume of work now, but feeling a sense of relief, we knew Santa was bringing the gift of rest very soon.
And to cope with this Christmas barrage, we had an idea. Tricky Vicki, who you may, or may not remember from Part 14, was starting with us, part time in January. We wondered if she would be up for helping us for a few days before Christmas. So, Donna called her, and yes she was. How good is that? Very good. Tricky fitted in with us straight away. She was our early Christmas present!
Two days to go and we were doing good. Lunches were the busiest at this time, probably due to to cheaper and more accessible menu, but also Christmas shoppers were everywhere. And it was during one of these lunches that we met a diner who was a wine expert, yes, an expert. Let’s look at this expert.
Over the years we have met many experts in the restaurant, and all of them had helpful advice for us. You’ve probably met some yourself, you know, that person who likes Formula 1, so is therefore a racing driver, that bloke who chose Sunset Yellow paint for the spare bedroom, so is therefore an interior designer.
Yes those experts. This particular chappy had chosen a bottle of Chablis for him and his wife to have with their lunch, then told us that he thought our wine list was very good, but it needed to include something with a Chardonnay grape. Did we tell him that Chablis is made form a Chardonnay grape? No.
However, as we’re writing this, Donna has reminded me that when we have a plumber round to do some work, I break into conversation about compression and soldered joints. And when the car is in the garage, I talk the ears off the mechanic, because I suddenly know everything about disc brakes. So I am, that expert. What a doyle!
And when evening service arrived, so did Tricky Vicki, but weirdly, after ten minutes, it felt like she’d always been there. TV was one of those people who picked it up straight away, you show her a process, done, she memorised it. She had that rather uncommon thing, common sense.
She was liked by diners and she liked them, TV was enjoying herself straight away. I decided it would be good fun to point out to our Keanu how good Tricky Vicki was, and how he needed to pull his socks up. He didn’t think this was funny at all.
There was a natural shift in the team when TV arrived, our Keanu, without instruction, became my right hand man in the kitchen, and Tricky was with Donna, working front of house. It’s interesting how people find their place.
It may seem strange to read, that someone with no experience could suddenly work in a kitchen, but all our Keanu had to do was follow instruction. In some ways, it’s easier to teach someone with no experience, than it is to teach someone with twenty years experience, who often think they know everything.
Over the years we’ve had many chefs join us from Michelin star restaurants, and some have been useless. So don’t believe everything you read.
So, our Keanu was running with me in the kitchen, busy busy. And because we were so busy, we both decided to invent a new team member, Tony Cannelloni. This guy was great, we never actually saw him, but we could blame him for everything, allocate jobs to him which we didn’t want to do, and we could also banish him to the sink.
Of course, he never did any of these jobs, because he didn’t exist, but it made us feel better.
And Donna was working the floor with Tricky, taking drinks orders, pouring wine and chatting with the experts. A small but super efficient team. It just felt right, and for us, the pressure felt less, knowing we now had our Keanu and TV on our side. They even had fun dealing with the special people. What special people? Well, as an example, those that were sat at Bed 8 one night, who gave Donna some ‘helpful’ advice, because they ‘ate out at nice restaurants, a lot’, they knew their stuff.
And when Donna asked which restaurants they dined at, just to get an insight, the answer was, and this is the truth, Meltons (Google it, nice place) and Pizza Express. Pizza Express?!!? Even Tony Cannelloni thought that was funny.
There were lots of nice comments as well. Two friendly, chatty guys, who had called in for lunch earlier in the week and thoroughly enjoyed everything, suddenly appeared at the door one morning. They had brought us a Christmas present, a vintage, clipped edge mirror, to add to our collection. How kind is that? It was later hung on the wall with the others, and it stayed with us for the next 18 years.
However, even though everything was hunky dory, and even though we had been open for less than a month, we wanted to get better, improve, become more efficient. Yes, people enjoyed the wine, yes people like the food (apart from Mr & Mrs Hemp), and the decor was a big talking point, but as far as we were concerned, it needed to be better. Dishes such as baked Portobello mushrooms with a smoked cheese potato purée, or a starter of soup, just weren't right. And desserts were desperate for attention, a fruit crumble for dessert, or the chocolate chilli cheesecake, yea, nothing wrong with that, but it wasn't enough.
But you can’t do much when you’re busy working, your head is elsewhere, things would have to wait.
The next day was Christmas Eve, Friday the 24th December, 2004. Tricky Vicki agreed to help us over lunch and dinner on the last day, because her office had closed for the holidays. Both lunch and dinner were steady, not crazy busy, just a nice number of covers. It seems that most people wanted to be at home that day, peeling sprouts, cleaning the house and panicking about turkeys.
Now, it’s a well known fact that the Devil will find work for idle hands to do. So, as it slackened off a bit, and as there was no prep to do for the next day, our Keanu, and Tony Cannelloni, thought it would be funny to get Tricky Vicki to sample some foods stuffs she wouldn't normally eat. You see, TV liked simple food, nothing wrong with that, and she thought some of the combinations that we did were a bit mad.
And although the staff food was the restaurant food, Tricky Vicki steered away from certain items. So, as the evening ground to a halt, and as the last few diners were leaving, and as our stress turned to giddiness, we brought a few samples for TV to try.
Our Keanu, “Hey Vicki, do you want to try some chilli chocolate cheesecake”.
TV, “Ohhh no, table 6 liked it but I don’t think I would”.
Our Keanu, “Just a little, just so you know what to tell diners when they ask about it”.
Good one our Keanu.
Tricky, “Oh my God it’s spicy, no way, it’s spicy and sweet. I need some water”. Vicki had developed a screwed up face, which had changed to the same colour as Grenadine.
Talking of Grenadine, we did a dish which was a whole tomato poached in Grenadine, served with garlic croutons and some other bits, basil jelly I think.
Our Keanu, “Vicki , try some of this tomato, the one cooked in grenadine”.
Tricky, “No way, you’re doing this deliberately”.
How did she guess?
Our Keanu, “Just a bit, just enough to taste”.
Vicki, “Now that’s just weird, oh God, I don’t like that”.
So, Tricky Vicki went back into the main restaurant and obviously told Donna what had happened. When Donna came into the kitchen to see what mischief we had been up to, we had to confess, “It wasn't us, it was Tony Cannelloni”.
And the day was done, we said Merry Christmas to our small crew and gave them a bottle of plonk each. We laughed and joked a little, told each other what troopers we were, and locked the restaurant up, it also needed a rest.
Donna and I knew that we had some clear time to ponder, plan and think, about getting better. That’s what happens when you have your own business, it comes home with you.
Then we walked through the darkness over to the car park, ready for an hours drive home, a little sleepy after a sixteen hour day, but content.
OK, a recipe now. There’s a lot of mangoes around where we live, obviously it’s their time, so Donna and I bought a couple and both decided that it would pair well with thyme. That’s it. Then, instead of the usual fruit salad, we chatted and came to the conclusion that it needed cooking. Lucky really, because the ones we bought were quite firm. So this week it’s mango and thyme Tarte Tatin. It is traditionally caramelised apples, pastry on top, then baked and turned out. I first saw it when working with an old friend. He was a pastry chef at Le Gavroche, back when it was a three Michelin star restaurant. Yes it had three stars at one time, it wasn’t always a two star restaurant. Something must have changed. He told me that when he worked there they had to do it from scratch when it was ordered, pretty tricky when you think of peeling and coring the apple, rolling out the pastry, plus the cooking time. Anyway, the browned butter and sticky toffee, which comes out of the cooking process, balances out the acidity of the mango, and the thyme brings it slightly over to the savoury world, balancing out the sweetness. Plus, the thyme gives a little hint of flavour intrigue. If you can get mangoes which are a bit under ripe, do so, not like a rock though, they’re better at handling the cooking time.
Mango And Thyme Tatin
Serves two, and if you change the butter to dairy free spreads, and check the pastry label, it’s suitable for vegans also. Pre heat the oven to gas mark 6, 200c or fan 180c.
Ingredients
1large, or two small Mangoes
60g Unsalted butter
50g Granulated sugar
7 sprigs Thyme
Puff pastry, use one of those ready rolled versions.
Method
-Take a thick slice from either side of the flat side of the mango, see the picture.
-Peel and cut each side into two wedges. You can use any big bits to fill in the gaps in the tart, but any little trimmings from the stone, keep them.
-Melt the butter and sugar in a frying pan with 5 sprigs of thyme.
-When melted, add the wedges, curved side down. Also add the little trimmings, they add flavour. The acidity from the mango helps prevent the sugar crystallising.
-Now leave on a low heat so that the butter browns, the sugar goes sticky and the mangoes become golden on the curved side.
-However, if the sugar is going too dark or starts to look as thick as treacle, add a couple of tablespoons of water.
-While the mango does it’s thing, put your reading glasses on and pick the leaves from the remaining thyme sprigs, you need a teaspoon of them. This will add a little extra flavour.
—Now, line a small tart or cake tin, we used a 20cm tin, so about that, with a disc of greaseproof paper.
-Sprinkle on the thyme leaves, discard the thyme sprigs and any scrappy bits of mango. Then arrange the mango neatly on the greaseproof, curved side down.
-Pour any stickiness left in the pan onto the mango.
-Cut a circle of pastry, just slightly bigger than the tin, and place on top of the mango, tuck the sides in a bit.
-Bake in the middle of the oven for around 20 minutes or until golden and puffed up.
-Be careful, use your oven cloth, put a plate on top of the tin, then quickly and carefully invert. You should now have the satin on the plate. You can serve warm or cold, but when cold, it will set a bit.
-Eat it
Join us next time as we discover something called sleep, throw vegan stuff in the bin and meet the pretend dieters.
Oh have to try this! I lived in Egypt for 18 years where there were 16 different varieties of mangoes from tiny 4 centimetre ones with a stone like a little bit of thin cardboard to the giant ones which could weigh 500 grams whose Arabic name translated as “Camels Balls”! See - I’m an expert too! 😆