gascony and all that jazz
France is a superbly beautiful country made all the better for the expanse of space that rolls from one eye to another. A country that seems in total control in being absolutely laid back. A place where time sits idly wondering what all the fuss is about and a country where Sundays still remain sacrosanct. And though my blue, white and red tinted spectacles were almost steamed up, you can’t knock a place where the bread is freshly baked, the wine enjoyed without tax and the hot weather generating a sigh of content like no other.
It is unusual and unlikely that we caterers get away, especially without family, so our trip to Gascony was to be enjoyed for many reasons - even more so as I had just returned from a week in Sunderland with both family and dull weather in tow.
Gascony, tucked away in the south west of France,overlooked by the imperious Pyrenees and found between Toulouse and Biarritz was the picturesque setting of our two days' stay in Marciac. Our arrival in this good old fashioned wine country was compliments of Producteurs Plaimont and our wine merchant Corney & Barrow. The stay was immediately improved by the annual Marciac Jazz Festival pulling in top acts such as Chic Corea, McCoy Tyner and Wynton Marsalis and, for those who don’t do jazz, you don’t get much better than that.
Fanny Sucré - Producteurs Plaimont Area Sales Manager
As with most newly found love affairs one couldn’t fault anything with the ambience, company and the region we fed off. It was a very French weekend where the conversation rolled like they do at Coopers Hill in Gloucestershire, the wine was without cork and the need to work seemed like a distant dream. After much walking through the vines airing any signs of fatigue from the night before, it was once again time to sink back into another dinner, conversation and yet more good wine to the backdrop of some very good jazz - played in English.
eating alresco on the River Stort
With yet another Wimbledon over with English - sorry - British hopes dashed, the World Cup a forgotten memory and The Tour De France pretty much spent we could be forgiven for believing that summer had ended. The rain has recently skirmished the Cornish coast and dark clouds are tearing into middle England, or are they?
At the herts county show
It rained, and then rained some more and just when the sun came out to play, it rained again. Oh I love the English summer. I know that Queen's has yet to start and we are a month from Cliff singing (in the rain) at Wimbledon but just a little sunshine was what the doctor ordered; it arrived a week early and has since gone to ground.
The Hertfordshire Show kicked off with a slumbering murmur at the turnstiles at 9 but the lashings of heavenly water did not deter and we were soon in the thick of it - chopping, cooking and chatting ourselves through over a thousand customers.
FOR QUEEN & FARMER CRY ST GEORGE
The advent of British vegetables & livestock roaming cocksure throughout the countryside on St George's Day looks all the more plausible. Unfortunately their exotic cousins remain idle, contemplating whether they had just missed the last dance.
In the meantime, produce foreign to our season will remain boxed piled high sitting calmly under the midday sun and lusting after the cool air conditioned light of a smart English supermarket. I am afraid we’ll have to wait a little longer for those early season strawberries from Israel.
WHEN THE MAYOR CAME FOR TEA...
6pm on a Friday afternoon when most folk have already planted their well worn weekend hat and are fearing the agreed itinerary of what needs doing in the garden. It was probably not the ideal time to launch our inaugural sustainability dinner focusing on fish.
To make matters worse the rain had stopped and Spring’s long lost sun suddenly appeared in imperious order and was in no mood for torment.
But our guests did arrive and we were kindly sponsored both time and interest as well as a keen desire to enjoy our line-caught British Pollock, house-made chips and lovely mushy peas.
How English Are Our Fish & Chips?
Excellent news – we have gained entry to the Fish2Fork guide, which promotes restaurants that champion sustainable fish.
What could be more English than enjoying fish and chips on a balmy summer evening, strolling up and down the pier? Fish and chips still acts as a continuous reminder of what our mums and dads loved as kids and what their parents feasted on before them. Therefore it's all the funnier to learn that in 1860, the first fish and chip shop was opened in London by the Jewish proprietor Joseph Malin who married together "fish fried in the Jewish fashion" with chips. Furthermore, in Ireland the first fish and chips were sold by an Italian immigrant, Giuseppe Cervi, who had stepped off an America-bound ship at Cobh and walked to Dublin.
painting for your dinner
After a very hectic Mothering Sunday and a couple of well earned beers I sank into my captain’s chair, newly unboxed from an unnamed do it yourself store, and met the next challenge of running a restaurant company: to judge without heckle a deserved winner in our newly launched mothering sunday colouring contest.
With over 120 entries it was a pleasure to pick the winning trio based on personal preference and nothing more. Though we are not yet another chain offering the standard free colouring set with furry animals to take home, it seemed a nice way to keep the little ones studiously at bay and the waiters’ free from turning into little animals themselves.
Mothering Sunday and all that jazz
900 mums, dads, kids and grandparents, uncles, aunts distant relatives, friends, dogs (outside of course) and one bird in cage arrived, feasted, discussed, enjoyed and the little ones cried and then it was all over.
Mothering Sunday was no different to those that have been and those that are still to arrive. It is a beast of a day which swallows you whole, chews you up and spits you out as though you had just been ejected from a two hour spin in your mum’s old twin tub.
On the whole we served almost over 2,500 dishes to 900 eager and, in places, demanding individuals. Our staff skipped, ran, jogged, walked and then just sat and pondered when it was all over. It is a day that starts on Friday and ends when the oven is switched off. With a limited choice of our classics dishes on offer and our inaugural Tate Lussmanns art competition, the aim of the day was to keep mums happy, grandmothers delighted, kids engrossed and fathers free of the stresses of eating out 'en famille'.
All that love and nowhere to go...
For those peering through the Dickensian steamed up windows over the weekend wondering when they will meet the perfect one, Valentine’s night must be a devilishly lonely time. When restaurants,bursting with bags of amore and suitcases of love, are filled with starry eyed quietness. Standard restaurant antics are momentarily suspended and the whisper of love rules majestically. Gone has the clash of cutlery and the boom of laughter postponed by a weaverbird dance of undulating notes and swirling heads. This is Valentine's night, a night like none other in our calendar year.
Apples, mittens & smoke like air...
Now the snow has unclenched its icy claws in both towns and countryside alike, the unromantic job of apple pruning has begun in earnest at Chegworth Farm. This is a time of the year when those green fingered customers of ours love getting their mittens, secateurs and mud driven boots out of the shed and exhaling large gasps of smoke like air. Give me the finished article with or without twig and branch any day and I‘ll be a happy man.
With picking a far and hazy memory archived away the farm is down to the business end of making sure that the class of 2010 is as good as ever.
The Snow Lined Trees & not many customers...
The snow came; it conquered and now it’s gone; thank goodness.
Lussmanns remained open throughout, though it was very quiet. Like the market traders and our food suppliers it was difficult to transport our fresh produce in daily but it did arrive albeit 12 hours late.
Just put the finishing touches to our lovely Valentines menu available alongside our a la carte menu. Hope you enjoy it.
Andrei
outside Lussmanns in Waxhouse Gate, St Albans 2010
New year, new look, new website!
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