PHIL DIXON considers how eating out at managed houses lost its allure
So when did the love affair end? No, I am not referring to the People v Tony Blair but the far more important issue of eating out in managed houses. For a crucial period they were an integral part of life's pleasures and an essential ingredient in those post-adolescent years.
Having saved up enough money, you would pop the question of a night out at a name synonymous with the hang-out of the rich and famous; a Berni Inn. (Well, this was Sheffield, 1974.) The three-course culinary extravaganza would tempt the taste buds of any mortal being:
1. Soup of the day (packet variety with a 94.5% chance of tomato), white roll and imported butter.
2. Steak (in that part of Yorkshire, ordered somewhere between well-done and cremated) with chips and 48 frozen peas.
3. Sweet: one dollop of ice cream in a selection of flavours vanilla or vanilla.
The wine choice was educational; up until then you had thought Blue Nun was an imported Scandinavian film. You'd look at the waiter and say "that one" as you had no idea how to pronounce Mateus Rosé.
So when did it all go wrong for me? I guess it was somewhere between the introduction of microwaves and the invention of the frozen chicken kiev. Does an economic model featuring one person (in the marketing department) making a decision, and everyone having to follow it, really work? It didn't in the German Democratic Republic. There is also the aspect of: when it's not your business will you go that extra mile in service terms?
"Is that Charlie Chalk's?"
"Yes"
"May I book a birthday party for 12 my dad is 75?"
"Sorry sir, we only do children's parties"
"Thank you"
(Two minutes later) "Is that Charlie Chalk's?"
"Yes"
"May I book a birthday party for 12 my niece is four?"
"Certainly sir"
Last week, for example, I was out with my old broadcaster mate, one half of the now forgotten but once legendary (in some parts of Wolverhampton) "Dixon and Daley Show". Steve (ex Wolves and Man City) and myself, along with our respective partners, popped into the Land Oak at Kidderminster (Pathfinder, W&D) for a quick bite prior to seeing a Temptations tribute band.
There were a few people in the pub.
"A table for four please", I requested.
"Sorry sir, we're fully booked," replied the barperson.
I gazed with amazement at an array of vacant tables. "I did think about phoning but your number is not in the telephone book," I said.
"No, it's not. Would you like to take a menu away with you?"
"Is the pub's phone number on it?"
"No."
"Then what's the point?"
So there was a first. Turned away from a near-empty pub.
We re-routed to a Bostin Local and Pathfinder redeemed itself with a rather good value-for-money experience.
Ask a silly question
One large chain I have always liked is Mitchells & Butlers' Vintage Inns. It has some tremendous pubs such as the Cheshire Cat at Christleton, Chester, and one of my all-time favourites, the Trout at Wolvercote, Oxford.
On entry, you can easily understand why Colin Dexter chose the Trout as an Inspector Morse watering hole. The great fireplaces are also an obvious inspiration for the scene where Frodo Baggins meets Aragorn at an inn in the first volume ofThe Lord of the Rings trilogy(JR Tolkien was a regular). The pub is full of nooks and crannies. On my last visit, there was just one problem. Like Ryanair and EasyJet, a free seating policy had been introduced and all the tables for four and six had two people on them. There was nowhere to sit.
I quizzed the deputy manager who pointed out the hidden room through a cupboard that is a door, and I finally discovered a table. At the same time I could not help but notice more than 20 people turn up, look around and then leave. This has left me baffled. How do you maximise profitability by a full pub with 55% spare capacity?
I made a polite phone callto M&B HQ regarding the "Ryanair" seating policy.
"It follows a customer survey", was the reply (uh oh, marketing has been getting involved).
"Our customers indicted (by ticking a box) that they wanted an informal dining experience."
Now, who on Earth is goingto tick a box preferring to wear a tuxedo and be formally strip-searched on entry? Pose a daft question you get
Perhaps customers should have been asked: "Having driven out to our pub and discovered it busy, would you like staff to find you a table or would you prefer to mount your own orienteering expedition?"
Orange is no lemon
Where M&B has certainly attracted a lot of attention is on its Project Orange, converting a number of sites to an up-market style based on entrepreneur Paul Salisbury's acclaimed Orange Tree at Chadwick End near Birmingham.
In the interest of the pursuit of knowledge. I ventured out to the Barnt Green Inn, Barnt Green, Worcestershire.
Wow! This is a fantastic pub, absolutely superb internally and externally. The dining area alone is worth an entrance fee.
There is for me, however, an issue with the custom. The downside is that it attracts the sort of bloke who, having just bought a BMW 4x4, parks it across two spaces in the disabled area so everyone can admire it.
The good news is that such an individual appears to attract a certain type of lady who has invested in one of the most lucrative businesses in Britain divorce.
As you are admiring just what cosmetic surgery can do, breathing in the subtle, exotic aromas of Chanel/Dior, suddenly you are distracted by an area ofoutstanding natural beauty a Timothy Taylors handpull.
The food is a bit pricey for the Midlands and the answer to the question: "What vegetables come with the rib eye and Belgian frites?", "Watercress" may excite a rabbit but does not leave me slavering with expectation.
There will be teething problems. A bottle of wine arrives within 20 seconds, the chiller 20 minutes. A carafe d'eau is not on the menu or wavelength of the staff.
On the other hand, if you have increased a pub's turnover overnight six to tenfold (at a conservative guess) and made it the place to be seen at, who cares?
phildixonCMBII@aol.com