Part 46. When You Say Nothing At All

Hard Italian cheese, cauliflower sponge and trading standards

Research has shown that if you put a Like on the end of this, fifty pound notes immediately fall from the sky and land in your lap.

Now then, how you all doing? That’s good.

Right, we were back to work after a visit to the country house restaurant with rooms and we decided that we didn’t want one. It was boring.

However, Donna had suggested that we open a restaurant in London, just like that.

Now, before we go on, we need to understand the countries relationship with London. Not sure if this is just a northern thing, but there’s a deep suspicion of London. Over the years we heard many a warning.

“Don’t go to London, you’ll get mugged.”

“London? Oh eh, it’s ten pound a pint down there.”

“It’s overcrowded.”

“It smells.”

“They’ll have your eyes out.”

But some of us northerners were curious, we had heard about the sights, the museums, Buckingham Palace, the Tube and Black Cabs. There were huge concerts featuring world famous rock bands, top chefs had restaurants there and celebrities walked the streets shaking hands with the public

Some northerners go to London to see these sights, they marvel at The Gherkin, they buy a carrier bag from Harrods. Oh yea, they stand next to a candle version of Harry Styles at Madame Tussauds and have their picture taken. They scurry down Oxford Street like giddy gibbons, (yes, Donna and I have done all that.). A wonderful time is had by all.

Then next week that tune has changed, “Oh what a dump, no way could I live there. Can’t see the fascination with the place”

So Donna’s idea of moving to London was a scary one, but an exciting one also. However, the first question was, could we even afford it? Yes we needed a bigger restaurant, but London restaurant rent and rates would run into the millions. It was probably impossible.

Isn’t it strange how we mentally create barriers for ourselves?

Well there was one way to find out. We used that new tool which was proving ever more popular, the internet, and we found some agents in London who dealt with restaurant property. And I rang one of them, using my poshest voice.

“Hello, we have a restaurant in York, but are considering moving to London.”

Now we can’t remember the amounts here so these figures are made up. But we had a figure of thirty thousand quid floating around, because that’s what we thought we could fetch for our place.

But hang on, that amount wasn't to actually buy a place, not many people buy commercial property in London. That was just to buy the leasehold, there would be rent on top of that also.

“So, we were wondering, do you have any restaurant properties around the thirty thousand mark?”

“Yes of course we do, would you like me to send you the details?”

“Oh, right, yes please.”

So I gave this nice lady our postal address, yes, the details were being sent by post, then I put the phone down. Donna was stood next to me, just listening.

“Donna, did you hear that, we can afford a restaurant in London.”

“Is that what she said? Oh wow, this could happen.”

So all we had to do was sell the restaurant in York, sell our house, find a place in London, find somewhere to live in London, move our furniture to London, move restaurant equipment to London, find staff, apply for an alcohol license, register with environmental health, decorate a restaurant in London, battle with solicitors for months, find suppliers, and a few other bits.

Oh yea, and do all of this while still working sixteen hours a day.

If you think this is half decent and fancy buying us a three quid coffee, that’s the button.

“It would be a big move Donna. Let’s see what arrives in the post, they might be tiny little cafes in war torn areas. You know what that London is like.”

“Yea that’s true, seems too good to be true.”

So we carried on running our restaurant.

We were still moving the food forward, still trying to come up with dishes which nobody had seen before. Still trying to break down the image that vegetarian food was a bowl of detox stir fry which was enjoyed by flower powered hippies.

So, out of a conversation with the team, cauliflower cheese came out as a favourite food memory. And why not.

But hang on, if we put cauliflower cheese on the menu, wouldn’t that just be a pub grub dish? What would be the point of coming to our restaurant if you could go to your boozy local and get the same thing?

What could we do with cauliflower cheese to make it different to it’s original form? What was cauliflower cheese? Basically it was cooked cauli in a white sauce with a bit of cheese. Not much to it really.

And a white sauce is just milk, butter and flour. Butter and flour…… aren't they the same ingredients used in a sponge cake?

Cauliflower cheese sponge. There we go.

But it didn't want to work. When we boiled the cauliflower and added it to the savoury sponge mix, water leached from the florets and caused the sponge mix to become watery, therefore the recipe had changed.

Stupid idea anyway.

How could we stop the cauliflower from leaching water into the sponge as we baked it?

Simple, we didn't boil the cauliflower, we roasted it. Brilliant. That increased the flavour, because remember, roasted food tastes better than boiled food, and there was no water involved.

“Donna, we’ve nailed this cauliflower cheese sponge, you OK if we do a dish change in a few days?”

“Yea, we’ll get ready for it.”

A quick side note here. A chef once asked why we had to inform front of house about a dish change. Some chefs have an idea that the kitchen rules the restaurant, everything revolves around the kitchen. That ain’t correct. The team working on the restaurant floor need to change the menus, understand the dish make up and they need to be armed with information to pass on to diners.

But, and because there was an inspiration streak running wild, Lozza and I had also been working on a new starter. Apple and cucumber jelly with Maldon sea salted shortbread.

“Donna, I know it’s a lot to do, but can we change a starter also?”

“OK, but let’s do it on Tuesday when it’s quieter.”

“Yea, let’s do that then.”

Dish change day is horrible. I mean, if you’re a restaurant which is doing regular food then it’s not so bad. To clarify, if you are changing a prawn salad to a chicken salad, it’s no biggie, but when it’s unknown territory, such as cauliflower sponge, there's always a lurking problem.

These dishes which we were doing were brand new, nobody else had made them before. They weren't coming from Jamie’s Meals In Minutes, or Jamie’s Quick Suppers. So they were new ground, they dealt surprises to trick us.

So Tuesday arrived and the lunch was a quiet one. That was a good thing, it gave everyone time to prepare.

Donna typed up new menus and started folding them into the menu covers, as well as setting up for evening service. Lozza and I did our usual prep in the kitchen, plus the prep for the new dishes. Briggy would be in later to help.

And as we all cracked on, someone knocked on the door. It was a lady, and she was carrying a large briefcase and a clipboard.

Donna unlock the door, “Hello, can I help?”

“Er yes, my name is Petunia and I’m from York Council, I work in trading standards.”

She flashed her ID. For a second we thought she was from environmental health, they always turn up at the most inconvenient time also.

Donna beckoned her in, “Come in, how can we help?”

“Oh it’s just a spot check, we do random checks throughout the city. We just check that everything is in order and correct.”

We were all a bit confused, check what?

“I’ll start with the spirits if that’s OK?”

So Petunia took small amounts from the spirit bottles and tested, somehow, that what was in the bottle was correct.

She was asking questions, where we bought our drinks from, which suppliers did we use, when deliveries arrived and how they were stored.

Told you something always went wrong on menu change day. We already had extra work to do and now this.

I was a little curious though, “Petunia, why do you test what is in the bottles?”

She was a bit defensive, “We have to make sure that customers are getting what they’ve paid for.”

“Yea, I just mean, what are you looking for?”

“Oh, well, sometimes, for example, some unscrupulous traders will take an empty bottle of expensive vodka, then add a bottle of cheap vodka to it.”

“Oh Petunia, what a good idea. I mean, that’s shocking, some people are so devious.”

A bottle of voddy which contains actual Tesco vodka, no cheating here. Picture courtesy of Tesco.

Petunia continued dismantling the bar area and asking questions. It was great.

Then Petunia started with the food, lot’s of questions again. But the main thing she seemed to pinpoint was if the products were actually suitable for vegetarians.

Well, we knew our stuff, so the cheeses which we used were all made using non animal rennet*. The carrots and cauliflower were OK also.

We even pointed out that all our wines and beers were cleared using non animal products. You see, some producers use fish guts to clear their wine, so we kept away from them.

We thought that would impress her, but it didn’t.

But hang on there, Petunia was here to find something, so she kept digging.

And she found something.

“I have a question about the Parmesan cheese which you are using.”

We did this wafer type thing which was made with Parmesan cheese, they were trendy back then.

I had a feeling that she was going to point out that parmesan cheese was made with animal rennet, but she wasn’t going to catch us out. We were using a version which was made without animal rennet.

Come on Petunia, go for it.

“Yes, what is it?

“The Parmesan cheese that you use, do I assume that it’s the non animal rennet version?”

“Yup, that’s correct, no animal rennet here.”

“Well in that case, you can’t call it Parmesan.”

“Eh? What? What do you mean?”

Petunia had an ace card, “Can you show me the cheese please?”

And as Lozza grabbed a wedge from the fridge I realised that Petunia was right, it was actually called ‘Italian Hard Cheese’.

“So you can’t state that it is Parmesan on your menu because it isn’t, Parmesan is a brand name. And if it was, it would contain a meat product, rennet.”

Petunia was spot on here, we hadn’t even realised, and nobody probably cared anyway.

“Oh, so what do we call it instead?”

“Well, you could call it Italian Hard Cheese or Parmesan style. Anything, but not actually Parmesan.”

Petunia left and we never saw her again. Meanwhile we had to rename a starter.

Italian Hard Cheese Tuille With Whipped Goats Cheese and Raspberry Vinegar Syrup.

Sounds great eh?

We didn't actually call it that, we juggled words around until something which didn't sound so industrial turned up.

Luckily Donna was changing the menus that day, Petunia must have known.

Briggy arrived and laughed at our great day. Then she made some Italian Hard Cheese baskets.

Proper hard cheese there, no messing about with this stuff. Piccy courtesy of Ocado.

Meanwhile, some details had arrived at our house from the London estate agents.

When we finished work we had a look through them, tired, but excited. And what we saw amazed us. As we looked through, there were plenty of options for us in lots of different areas of London. This could actually happen, we could have a restaurant in London.

One of them was even in Notting Hill. Hugh Grant could be a customer.

Right, off we go. Thanks for reading and catch you later.

Donna and Andrew

* Rennet is used in cheese making to split milk into curds and whey, the base of cheese. It comes from the lining of the fourth stomach of young ruminant animals like calves, lambs. A lot of manufacturers have stopped using it, but some still do.