Part 16. Driving Home For Christmas
Toasted orzo, basil 'ricotta' and caramel tomatoes. Plus, Shockers and laundry.
Merry Christmas to you! Well it's not Christmas right now, but in this continuing story, it is Christmas, and we had closed the restaurant for the holiday period, but our minds were still working.
You see, when we had regular jobs, the last thing we thought about on holiday was work.You left work, pondered about a few things that had happened throughout the day, then that’s it, your mind starts thinking about what’s for tea, or that up coming two weeks holiday in Costa Plonker.
But that all changed, once we had the restaurant, we focused on it completely. And we talked to each other about it constantly, but not about what had happened the day or week before, but about what was going to happen, the goals, the targets. How could we get better, how could we improve, how could we make things easier, how could we adapt, menu ideas, and much more.
The list grew, but we knew we would have to chip away slowly over the coming few months.
And so that was Christmas, the break was nice, we gorged on sleep, but the festivities were an unnecessary distraction, it was in the way, we wanted to move ahead and get going!
Well, one thing on the improvement list, and now I know this sounds a bit daft, and possibly, no, definitely, a bit boring, but we weren't happy about the way the front door opened. See, dull!
It wasn’t so much the way it opened, it was just that when it did open, the draught went directly onto table nine. OK, maybe whoever was sat on table nine, never even noticed, but we did, and it didn’t feel right.
So we contacted a guy who’s number we found in Yellow Pages (Google it) and he came around on the Sunday after New Years Day, just to have a look. He came up with an idea to put a curved wooden screen around the part where the door opened, to kinda stop the draught going straight to table nine. The price was right, so he came the next morning, Monday, and made it up for us. That meant that when we opened on Tuesday, it would be ready for action. And there it was, about five foot high, slightly curved and it deflected the draught very well.
The boring point here was, we felt that it was an important point, one that nobody probably noticed, but we knew it was an improvement, and that was important to us.
But it also served another purpose. You see, I used to play this little game called Shockers. You see, when you’re tired, you either become drained, a bit ratty, or delirious, and delirious was my gift. So I thought it was funny, but nobody else did, to hide around a corner, then jump out on people and loudly shout, “Hello”. Obviously this would shock people, hence the ingenious name of the game, Shockers.
So one morning, I saw the dry goods van turn up outside, I watched the guy load up his arms with heavy trays of various products, making sure he was carrying as much as he could, to make short work of the trip. To help this chap have an enjoyable day, I took my place behind the new screen at the door and crouched down a little, you had to play Shockers just right for maximum benefit.
Well, just as he pushed the door open with his back, then turned around so that he could walk in forwards, I jumped up from behind the screen and shouted “Hello”. Well, I thought this was brilliant, I mean, the stuff he was carrying seemed to bounce out of his arms, then land back in them. “Bloody hell, you could have given me a heart attack”, he shouted. He said many other things, he even called me a bastard, but I was laughing so much, I didn't take too much notice. He saw the the funny side once the tremors stopped, I also pointed out to him that the adrenaline rush would see him through the day, in fact, he should have been thanking me.
And on every weekly visit after that, he used to peer through the window, smirking to himself before opening the door, just to see if I was preparing for Shockers. Ha, so maybe the new screen wasn't an improvement for the delivery guy!
Anyway, back to proper stuff. It was the beginning of January, we were back to work, and really enjoying being back at work. This was a strange feeling, usually, going back to work after having time off was a torturous and depressing feeling, but not anymore.
We weren't expecting to be busy, people had spent their cash, some had spent cash they didn't have, it was dark and cold, and the glittery Christmas decorations were all back in the lofts.
However, and this is a pattern which came around every January, we were extra busy. Not lunchtimes, the streets were littered with a few soggy tight sods, looking for bargains in the January sales, but evenings were as busy as before Christmas.
This didn’t make sense at first. Let us give you an insight into the financial side of the restaurant world. You go to a restaurant in December, and it’s packed. People are buying lots of booze and happy to spend big with their friends or work colleagues.
And you sit there and think, the owners are making a small fortune. And they are, in December, but that fortune is swallowed up, and more, in January.
So all that extra cash they made quickly disappears, because January is notoriously quiet. But the rent, rates, staff costs, insurance, utilities and all the other bits I can’t be bothered to mention, are still there. Plus, because the majority of suppliers give 30 days payment terms, that means the huge amount of stock you bought in December, needs paying for in January. So it’s tough. But that didn't happen to us, and as the night services rolled on, we found out why.
Anyway, it turned out, that a lot of people were dining with us, because they had made New Years resolutions to lose weight and be more healthy. Ahhh, so that was it, that’s why we were still busy. So these resolutioners kept us busy through January, and this happened every year afterwards.
But hang on, why did people have this odd idea that vegetarian cuisine was healthy? We’ve heard it hundreds of times. Look, for example, if you eat meat, you could have a steamed chicken salad with a side of brown rice. Me and Donna could have a plate of chips, cheese and mayo, and a slice of thickly buttered white bread. Now you do the calorie count, then tell me a vegetarian diet is healthy. All food is healthy, if it’s balanced and in moderation. But we didn’t mention this to the January resolutioners, yes, cheesy bread and butter pudding with a pool of sticky ale reduction will certainly knock off those mince pie inches.
And another thing. Vegans. We had an evening menu which was a 666 menu, six starters, six mains and six desserts. And two of each section were vegan options, so just over 30%.
Now remember, twenty years ago, celebs were’t jumping on the dairy free bandwagon, and hipsters weren't rubbing oil in their beards and searching for a deep fried seitan burger, it wasn’t a big deal back then.
So a few things happened. Firstly, the few vegans which did exist, were in a huffty with us. Why? Because there wasn't enough choice on our menu! So, a third of the menu was suitable, but that wasn’t enough, even though it was explained to them that we were a vegetarian restaurant. There was an assumption made that, if it’s a vegetarian restaurant, it’s also a vegan restaurant. That was a rule set by Beanbag Cafe in 1972.
Next thing that happened was this. Let’s say a meat eater was dragged into the restaurant, this person, usually a bloke, sorry lads, would be missing something on his plate. Meat! But that’s OK, the dairy can compensate, kind of. But hang on, if this geezer opts for a vegan option, then he’s missing his lump of flesh, and dairy. Then he turns to his punisher and says, “See, I told you I’d be hungry afterwards”.
And the next thing, because we sold so little of it, and because Billie Eyelash wasn't yet around to set a trend, we prepared the vegan dishes, put them in the fridge, then threw them out. OK, obviously if our Keanu or Tricky Vicki wanted to eat it for staff food , then yea, some was eaten. But generally, the vegan shelf was emptied into the bin because we didn't sell it.
So we lost all round. Years later that all changed.
Now back to improvements. We needed a website, lots of other restaurants had them, but lots didn’t. Not even sure why we needed one, but it seemed to be something which was becoming important, but we weren't sure why. If someone wanted to find you, they looked in the Yellow Pages, or just walked around until they spotted you. Nothing wrong with that. That went on the list, we would have to find a webby person.
We also needed to get the paperwork sorted out. Receipts and invoices were stuffed in a carrier bag, hours worked by our Keanu and Tricky were jotted on paper, and the takings were just bundled together. The excuse was that we were too busy, but really, we hated sorting that type of thing out. But we knew that organising it was an improvement. And so, from then on, we spent every Sunday doing paperwork and catching up.
Sunday was also the day for washing all the tea towels and chefs jackets which had been used over the week. It was a pain, two loads which had to be washed and dried, ready for Tuesday morning. Not easy in damp January. But wait, there was a solution, Vicki’s Grandmother, or Nana. When we mentioned the laundry situation to Vicki, she suggested that her Nana could do it, we could drop the bag of stained and crumpled laundry late on a Saturday night, then pick it up, all fresh, clean and folded, on a Tuesday morning. Perfect, we gave her a big box of washing powder and some pocket money to buy fags and gin, or whatever else she wanted to indulge in.
And the service, something which seems to often take a back seat in restaurants, we felt it was good, but there is always room for improvement. At Vanilla Black we wanted diners to be in a friendly and comfortable environment. Service had to feel natural and sincere. Obviously there was an order of service for the Front of House team to follow, it was structured, but everyone was encouraged to show their personality, and not be robotic. Tricky Vicki liked this approach.
We often noticed that when dining out in restaurants, it felt like them and us, the diners and the staff. We wanted to break this, create engagement. TV liked this also.
And for some reason, overnight we became labelled as the vegetarian fine dining restaurant, and many diners expected stiff service, and their bottle of wine would be poured by Lurch. And if they asked for tap water instead of bottled water, the waiting staff would regard them as peasants. In fact we offered diners still, sparkling, or tap water routinely, its a simple thing, but it was appreciated by many. We made sure that the softening was noticeable.
And we just put into place, all the things we liked to experience when dining out, and removed all the the things that annoyed us when dining out, and hoped that diners felt the same.
These things may seem small, even trivial, but they helped us to clear our minds and gave us a few extra hours in the week to use more productively.
But the one big thing which was troubling us was the drive home. You see, we were still living in Stockton on Tees, but driving to York just about every day. It was about an hours drive, which doesn't seem too bad. But, when you’ve left the house at 7:30am, worked all day without a break, burned your hands a few times, listened to diner’s stories, ran out of savoy cabbage and sprinted to M&S for more, and then finally plopped yourself back in the car at 11:30pm, an hour was like another big task added onto the day. Generally, I did the driving, and I also did the sleeping, at the wheel.
Donna’s job was to nudge me every time my eyes dropped. It was scary sometimes, but the sudden rush of adrenaline you get when you realise you nearly went off the dual carriageway, but didn’t, was a pretty useful boost.
The house was on the market, so we were just waiting for a buyer, we had no control over that. There was no choice, the drive had to be done. The only temporary solution was to drink a can of full fat Coke, and play the car radio very loudly to help keep the eyes open.
But something we could control and make improvements to, was the food, it still wasn’t how we wanted it to be. I mean, there was nothing wrong with it, but we knew that something was missing. The answer was out there somewhere.
OK, now a recipe. this idea came from us being fed up of seeing mushroom risotto as the vegetarian option on menus across the land. So, this recipe takes something called Orzo, which is basically pasta shaped like rice, and fries it. Usually it is boiled but frying it first gives it a toasty, nutty flavour. We’ve made some fake Ricotta also, but flavoured with basil, but feel free to use a different herb if you wish.
Toasted Orzo, Soya and Basil ‘Ricotta’ and Caramel Tomato Sauce
Have some muslin cloth or a tea towel ready.
Pre heat the oven to gas mark 6, 200c or fan 180c.
Serves two, contains wheat, dairy free.
Ingredients
1 Litre Soya milk, not the barista stuff, and look for 8-9% soya bean
1 Small bunch of basil, pick off the leaves, keep a few for garnish
1 large Lemon, juiced
4 Large breakfast mushrooms
1 Red pepper
1 Green pepper
1 small head Broccoli
140g Orzo
50g Granulated sugar
400g tin Chopped tomatoes
Oil , your choice of type, and salt for cooking.
Method
-Add the soya milk, basil leaves, don’t bother chopping it, just lob it in, and salt to a saucepan.
-Pop on a medium heat. As soon as it has boiled, remove from the heat then blitz with a stick blender until all of the leaves have broken down.
-Add the lemon juice to the milk, give it two stirs, clockwise, then leave it to one side.
-Slice the mushrooms into quarters. Cut the peppers into quarters, then each quarter in half. break the broccoli into florets.
-Add to a roasting tray, drizzle on some oil and season with a sprinkle of salt. Pop in the oven to roast. Should be about 20 minutes, depending on the size of the veg.
-In another saucepan, add a couple of tablespoons of oil, any type. Get it to medium hot, then add the orzo.
-Fry the orzo, stirring all the time as it burns easily, in the oil until golden brown, like fried rice.
-As soon as it is brown, add enough water (be careful, it spits) to cover and reduce to a simmer. It won’t take long to cook, about 7-8 minutes.
-The soya milk should have curdled by now, and cooled down a little.
-Check the oven and the orzo, add more water if the orzo needed.
-While everything cooks, put a sieve over a bowl, line it with muslin or a tea towel, then add the soya milk. Allow the water to drain off. When it is cool enough to handle, hold the cloth and twist so that you can squeeze out the water.
-Once you have something which resembles ricotta, pop it in the fridge to cool.
-Last thing, carefully melt the sugar in a saucepan over a low heat. Do not stir.
-As soon as the sugar turns golden brown, add the tinned tomatoes, careful, they spit.
-Stir until the sugar dissolves, then keep a low simmer for five minutes to reduce. Add one teaspoon of salt.
-To tell if the orzo is cooked, taste a piece, should be soft, but not mushy. If it’s cooked, drain and season with a little salt. It should have absorbed all the water and look like fried rice. Leave to one side, you can warm it gently in this pan if needed.
-To serve, add the orzo to a plate and spreads to the sides. Now add the tomato sauce, then the vegetables. Finally add the ‘ricotta’, garnish with basil leaves if you feel like it.
-Eat it.
And next week we find out we’ve been reviewed by the local paper and we discover the culinary bible.