Posts
It felt just great! No, not the pheasant plucking, which I'll come on to, but preparing lunch for paying guests (I exaggerate slightly) for the first time today. There was a small contingent of flower arrangers in the building, consisting of a teacher and two students. Nothing to do with us, although the teacher is going to be spending a day or two with us arranging flowers at some point in the future (yes, really). She comes from the SS school of flower arranging: my first encounter with her was first thing this morning when I went into the outhouse where we get changed, and she was in there, exercising her pruners. She showed no signs of leaving so I said "I'm sorry, I realise we've only just met, but I'm going to get changed now". "Once you've seen one, you've seen them all," she replied in a clipped and sturdy voice, admiring her sparking blades. Once I was down to half-mast (we are talking trousers here, although you are free to let your imagination run riot at this point), she suddenly whipped the door open, letting in a flurry of snow and an icy wind around the Trossachs, and spun to face me. "You there," she said. I stood to attention (once again, Carry On lovers may emit a gentle fnarr). "You are in charge of keeping the door shut in my absence." She swept out into the snow, leaving me mouthing "Who the hell was that?".
So later this morning, we were discussing game. Not the non-league variety, but the various birds and animals that some people see fit to fill full of lead shot and eat. Graham had brought in a big bag of pheasants, woodcock and partridge his shootin' party had bagged over the weekend, and we also had rabbit, hare, venison and various other game to hand pre-prepared. Lizzie then asked Janice (my partner for the week) and I if we would like to cook lunch for the flower arrangers. Imagining Irma Bunt (from On Her Majesty's Secret Service, for I'm sure it was she) ate her meat raw, I said yes. In the end we prepared and served pan-fried breast of partridge, marinated in orange and honey, served on a bed of shredded savoy cabbage, with dauphinoise potatoes. Unfortunately I didn't manage to take a photo, but it looked damn good I have to say. Irma congratulated me on the food. "Be honest," I said, tempting fate. "There have been plenty of times I've sent it back upstairs," she replied. I bet there have, with the waiter's head on the plate.
We had an interesting lunch tasting every type of game you can imagine, then came the unpleasant plucking episode. I'm afraid I felt a bit queasy at this point, and ducked out (geddit!). I watched the others pluck, gut, skin, and joint the various beasties, and by the end the floor looked like the aftermath of a pillow fight at St. Trinians. Most of the students, of course, had been doing this sort of thing since they were in short pants, on Daddy's estate. I think it might take a while before I come round to it. For now I'll just bask in the glory of having actually served a decent lunch to three people who actually enjoyed it.
So later this morning, we were discussing game. Not the non-league variety, but the various birds and animals that some people see fit to fill full of lead shot and eat. Graham had brought in a big bag of pheasants, woodcock and partridge his shootin' party had bagged over the weekend, and we also had rabbit, hare, venison and various other game to hand pre-prepared. Lizzie then asked Janice (my partner for the week) and I if we would like to cook lunch for the flower arrangers. Imagining Irma Bunt (from On Her Majesty's Secret Service, for I'm sure it was she) ate her meat raw, I said yes. In the end we prepared and served pan-fried breast of partridge, marinated in orange and honey, served on a bed of shredded savoy cabbage, with dauphinoise potatoes. Unfortunately I didn't manage to take a photo, but it looked damn good I have to say. Irma congratulated me on the food. "Be honest," I said, tempting fate. "There have been plenty of times I've sent it back upstairs," she replied. I bet there have, with the waiter's head on the plate.
We had an interesting lunch tasting every type of game you can imagine, then came the unpleasant plucking episode. I'm afraid I felt a bit queasy at this point, and ducked out (geddit!). I watched the others pluck, gut, skin, and joint the various beasties, and by the end the floor looked like the aftermath of a pillow fight at St. Trinians. Most of the students, of course, had been doing this sort of thing since they were in short pants, on Daddy's estate. I think it might take a while before I come round to it. For now I'll just bask in the glory of having actually served a decent lunch to three people who actually enjoyed it.
No comments:
Post a Comment