| Product: |
Lands End |
| Date: |
19.10.00 (67 review reads) |
| Rating: |
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Advantages: Having the freedom to indulge.
Disadvantages: The hangover.............
It was 1988. Ten years of running a busy pub and then our well commended Restaurant in Beaminster, West Dorset. Ten years of seven days a week, eighteen hours a day, early mornings, late nights, hot kitchens and the general cut and thrust of being self-employed. We had sold our Restaurant! We could stop! We spent three months licking our wounds and mending body and soul in our tiny 14th. Century Dorset Stone Cottage in Bridport, six miles away. We saw no one. We didn’t drink. We had withdrawal symptoms from catering. We joked about lurking around catering establishments in the Town after dark, and sniffing their Ventilation Systems to get our much-needed fix of cooking smells. Joked about getting all the cutlery and china out of the cupboards every night and washing it all up over and over again. Once a week we ventured out into the world and did a food shop in the local Supermarket. This was a novelty in itself. For the last ten years 10lb slabs of unsalted butter, whole local cheeses, plump wild ducks, half a cow, nets of sprouts, sacks of potatoes, trays of avocados, a gallon of double cream, trays of eggs straight from a chicken, a sack of fresh scallops had all been brought to our restaurant kitchen door by local farmers, fishermen and smallholders. Buying in small quantities became a challenge. We’d shop together and then need good coffee. Leave the shopping in the car boot, parked up in the Supermarket car park and make our way to our favourite pub in Town. The George Hotel on the corner of South/East/West Streets in the centre of Bridport, a town famous for it’s rope making industry, smuggling and the unique thatched Palmers family brewery, by the river Brit. It’s 11.00 am. Midweek. Two aromatic cups of steaming freshly made cappuccino, a long, lazy roll up, relishing the new found freedom from the never ending grindstone of our previous fruitful but exhausting life as Restaurateu
rs. A chat with the friendly, warm bar staff, the interesting daytime drinkers at the bar, a browse through the temptingly freshly prepared food menu, then home to unpack the shopping, a light lunch and even an afternoon siesta together, as Caterers do! It was a Saturday in September ’88. Shopping as usual. Stacked in the boot. It’s eleven in the morning, Coffee time in the George. Then another. It’s midday. Let’s have a glass of wine, or go mad and have a Kir Royale. Interesting friends began to arrive. Our table got bigger. We became twenty strong. We’re hungry. Let’s lunch. Moussaka, Lamb’s Kidneys in Madeira, whole Prawns, Curry, Game Pies, Croque Monsieur, freshly made Sandwiches, Crudités, fluffy Herb Omelettes, crusty bread, local cheeses, Pimms, Guinness, Best Bitter, Lager, Cider, Wine; The table was laden. The chat was stimulating. Time flew by. It was 3.00pm in the afternoon and the ‘Time Gentlemen Please’ bell hadn’t rung. We had another drink, and another. Well mellow! We asked, “What time does the bar shut today?” “No” we’re told, “All day opening began last week. Didn’t you know? We’re open all day, every day” We stayed. The evening shift began to arrive. Punters who’d been in at lunchtime returned, and they laughed happily when they saw us still there in poll position. Staff who’d served us cappuccinos in the morning were arriving back to do their evening stint and were in shock! The evening passed in a happy daze. The bell rang! It’s only 10.45pm I thought. The Landlord demanded hush. “ A toast to the first couple who’ve made use of the new all day opening, having been in here for the full twelve hours. I present you both with..Champagne!” A bottle of Bollinger and two champagne flutes were placed in front of us on a silver tray.
I could hardly focus on them. We drank. The whole pub applauded. I had the decency to blush! A Taxi was ordered, we fell in, and home we rolled, legless! It’s still remembered as an Urban Myth. Total strangers stopped me in the street for months afterwards saying “ Aren’t you the couple who…?” The George Hotel, Bridport, Dorset is an institution. Pay a visit to: http://home.dencity.com/lamorna/george.htm and see more information for it’s full attraction. It’s a Palmers Brewery Pub, the licensee is a lady, and her name is above the door, Jaqui. The staff is all female, and they know how to cook, serve drinks, make iced coffee, Pimms, Hot Toddies, keep the beers in first class condition and make everybody feel welcome. No chips, no jukebox, no children, but atmosphere, good drinkers, good food, good service, a chess club, a quiz team and occasional live music. If you make a visit here, you’ll want to come back, just like I do every week. Call in on your way to Cornwall, and just mention my name…. Afterthought! The Car? Stuck forlornly in the Shoppers Car Park with a ticket, until the next morning, when a very pale, hung over, ashen Lamorna trotted into Town to drive it back… The Shopping? We ate it! Thawed frozen peas and all!
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gorlagon - 07.03.01 Great review,and I will forever think of this op,when on my very frequent visit's to Cornwall,now I'll be tempted to make a small diversion,but alway's seem to be in a rush to get to the place I like to refer to as home. |
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