Showing posts with label Waiter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Waiter. Show all posts

Friday, 4 March 2016

Quilliam Brothers, Newcastle-upon-Tyne: a Review


The place is packed, upstairs & downstairs, on Friday evenings, so one has to wait to be seated. The fact that so many folk do (at one point the queue was out the main entrance and down the side of the windows) is testament to the food & service at Quilliam Brothers. To ensure fairness, as soon as anyone new enters a server approaches them and then adds them to the board - no queue-jumping here.

[Image description: architectural drawing of the building occupied by the tea-house;
at the meeting of Barras Bridge (B1318), Claremont Road & Eldon Place,
directly opposite the iconic tower of the civic centre; © Quilliam Bros.]


After approximately ten to fifteen minutes we were escorted to table and menus were proffered. We were given ample time to peruse without feeling rushed nor frustrated. Just right. Our waiter served us with a smile, the right level of chattiness and affability.

My best friend took Earl Grey tea - perfectly steeped and served with fresh lemon. My Newkie chum and I had hot chocolates laced with cream and crumbled chocolate. Her wee son took a Fentiman's cherry cola for a special treat. I cannot recall the others' reactions to their drinks, as I was too busy being envelopped in warm, creamy chocolatiness…… Perfect: not too bitter, not too sweet.

We had tasty treats to accompany our beverages. My best friend and I both selected the ginger-beer scones. Oh my! Laced with chunks of stem ginger, a scone that packed a wee punch. Should love to have that recipe!

Shall defo return to Quilliam Bros next time I am in Newcastle city centre - just a couple of minutes walk from Haymarket Metro station.

*

No hot meals after 3pm - their web-page could do with being updated to make this clear.

Saturday, 27 February 2016

Frankie & Benny's, John Dobson St., Newcastle-upon-Tyne: a Review


Frankie & Benny’s is a national chain, I have visited occasionally over the years. It’s not haute cuisine, but the food is fair for the price and there is an extensive menu. On this occasion I was with two adult and one child companions.

[Image description: screen-shot of © Frankie & Benny's web-page for the restaurant reviewed, with location map - the purpose of which is to differentiate the specific branch critiqued here.]

From outside with all the windows one could see plenty of dark wood and banquettes; a cross between American diner and Italian restaurant - the food offering is basically the same.

We all immediately felt the warmth on entering after the mere three degrees outside. We were greeted quickly enough and asked how many our table would be for. My young chum answered, and we were led to table. Menus were placed on the table, before we had even had a chance to sit down, rather than offered to each of us in turn. Furthermore, the young female greeter failed to check to see whether or not the table was acceptable. As it happened the banquette was too low for myself (the disabled one) and we needed to move to a table with a sturdy chair. We could not attract anyone’s attention, despite us all still standing, so one member walked half-way across the room to discuss with the original greeter. She did not return to guide us nor again to check we were happy with our choice.

The drinks waiter came over and enquired what we might like to drink. We ordered a bottle of pinot grigio rosé and a child’s refillable lemonade. There was then a fairly long wait in which time we all had an opportunity to select our meals. A heads-up: the meal-offer separate menu meant that some of the dishes are cheaper to order with a starter than the price of just the main course from the primary menu. So cheesy garlic bread was ordered too and shared between three of we diners, who had not intended to have an appetiser.

Three wine glasses and the lemonade and a bottle of wine in a wine-cooler were placed on the table and the waiter rapidly walked off. All the wine-glasses were delivered wet, covered in water-droplets - something I have never seen at any restaurant prior to this occasion. As the glasses had not been dried and polished, it meant that it was highly unlikely that they had been checked. Mine of course had lipstick remains on the rim. After several minutes I rose and went over to the manager, who quickly scuttled away, but took some time to come back with a dried & polished clean receptacle. No apology though. My female companion then checked her glass to find remains of pink lipstick on hers. Then we discovered that the incorrect wine had been delivered - the waiter had not shown us the label when bringing to table - but then again it was also the wrong colour; white instead of pink. By this point I was annoyed, we still had not placed our food orders. I went over to the manager once again and made sure he understood our complaints and that this would affect our tipping.

Eventually two burger dishes (one adult, one child), a calzone and a fillet of salmon (for the writer) were delivered. Alas, despite making it very clear that the child wanted no tomato and no ketchup on the burger, it came with said sauce. Of course it had to go back to the kitchen for them to start again. In the end the child ate most of his meal and was fully sated; no complaints with the meal he finally was served. His mother ate her burger too with no complaints. My companion consumed his meatball calzone with gusto. It looked fabulous. He said the pizza base was really light, and we both considered that it appeared like genuine Italian pizza base. Scrummy! My thick salmon fillet was perfectly cooked, tender, succulent and tasty. Alas the accompanying potatoes were undercooked and harder than firm. The garden peas were either incompletely reconstituted or had dried out in the wait. The broccoli turned out to be two soggy floret-lets. Most disappointing.

We did not bother with dessert - we were not even asked.

We were only asked once whether we needed more drinks, when most of the wine was still in the bottle.

In summary: atmosphere was good (about a quarter to a third full for early-mid evening - on a Friday); food over all was fair (two good [child’s burger & calzone], one average [adult burger]; one below average [salmon]); service amiable but not what should be accepted across the board from kitchen-, waiting- & management-staff; toilets very clean and not malodorous.

The bill came to £67. We left a £3.50 gratuity (about 5%), half what is our usual starting-point - it would have been nothing if the staff had been less than affable. I advised the manager on departing that his whole team needs to work together to improve affairs.

Would I recommend or revisit? On reflexion, probably not.

*

Please note that there are several branches of F&B in the Newkie area.



Friday, 20 March 2015

Maracas 2: Portrait of my Camarero / Retrato de mi camarero (bilingüe)

Whilst thinking about what I could write about in respect to Maracas, it suddenly struck me that I really ought to eulogise the people who serve me day in day out without a complaint and usually with a smile. Over the years I have been served by several different regular waiters. However, the sensible course was to write about he who is before me each and every day at this current time.

Mientras que pensar en lo que podría escribir con respecto a Maracas, de repente me di cuenta de que realmente debo elogiar la gente que me sirven día a día sin una queja y por lo general con una sonrisa. Con los años me han servido por varios camareros diferentes regulares. Sin embargo, el curso sensato era escribir sobre el que está delante de mí todos los días en este momento actual.

The English version contains several puns and (hopefully) humorous allusions. Regrettably my Spanish is not sufficiently expert to be able to do a translation justice. Nonetheless, I hope the humour does come through in the Spanish version.

La versión en inglés contiene varios juegos de palabras y (con suerte) alusiones humorísticas. Lamentablemente mi español no es lo suficientemente experto para poder hacer justicia a una traducción. No obstante, espero que el humor viene a través de la versión española.

I deliberately use the word 'portrait' as I am attempting to use words to paint as full a picture as possible; not only physical aspects, but hopefully a more holistic perspective. Of course, words can never replace let alone fully describe. I hope you the reader, the staff at Maracas, waiters (past or present) everywhere, but especially Manu, appreciate my efforts. If not, the fault is mine.

Deliberadamente uso la palabra 'retrato' como que estoy tratando de usar palabras para pintar una imagen lo más completa posible; no sólo los aspectos físicos, pero es de esperar una perspectiva más holística. Por supuesto, las palabras nunca pueden sustituir ni mucho menos totalmente describir. Espero que el lector, el personal de Maracas, camareros (pasados o presentes) por todas partes, pero especialmente Manu, agradezco a mis esfuerzos. Si no, la culpa es mía.

































Portrait of my Camarero


my camarero
Manu
in black
  externally
     top to toe
performs
  a quotidian ballet
trim physique
  good structure
  bones slender
dancers’ poise
skin tanned
  spotless complexion
manicured stubble
  embellishes
     each cheek
  vaguely
     moustachioed
at times moue
but mostly
radiating warmth
  whether to
     heteros
     lesbos
     bis or gays
hockey-stick
  eyebrows
     arch inquisitively
below an almost imperceptible
  concave brow
     so young
  no furrow
     (Botox of youth)
orbs moreno
  orange-flecked
  held in his gaze
with pink lips
  spades-shaped
     mouth forms 
genuine smiles
  revealing
ivory pegs
leporidic incisors
  concealing
a rosy tongue
  supporting
lilting tenor
  masculine timbre
left nostril
  ringed faintly
of a slight
  narrow nose
unblemished otherwise
good posture
body in motion
  elongates
     a stretch
     underwear's
     silvery band
     underscores
  his sacrum
     faint hairs
     on pearly flesh
     direct to derrière
     where palms wipe
     salt, sweat and
     condensation
  his navel
     wispy line
     demarkation
     to no-man’s-land
opening
  safe passage
     to glide through air
making space
  where none is there
torso static
plumb belly
  straight down
to a standard package
  dressing
     neither to the left
     nor to the right
     unusually
     straight down
     though to the right
     when
     Belén
     is around
arms muscled
  hairy
  naturally
     down they hang
  or
elbows perpendicular
  creating locomotion
  unrehearsed dance
movement
tray in hirsute left hand
  balanced on fingertips
proffers with his
  now healed wrist
     his right
hips twist
  and swing
shapely
  palm-sized
  buttocks
  exact mid-point
  of corporeal entity
     quiver
     alternately
in the turn
  of muscular thighs
down to white flesh
  hairless ankles
standing true
straight back
flat neck
  just the slightest curve
  mole’d nape
  kissing-spot
  or marker for
neatly clipped coiffure
on a lean head
from broad shoulders
upper-right
  tattooed arm
     Hawaiian flower
     Death’s skull
     familial allusion
     contemporary
     heraldry
as to his mission
labour’s motto
to serve
  to collect
  to clean
  tables laid
  all in his sight
  are watered
  and fed
well-practiced
everything done
  serenely
with clean hands
  neatly
  clipped nails
acts with aplomb
  never frayed
  exuding calm
occasionally
  passes the time
  of day
  or early evening
listening
  to tourists’ tales
consummate
  professional
waiter mine
*
speedy relocation
no time to stare
habitués ignore
  your
  daily pants’ stains
*
hiatus beckons
unconventionality
  or individuality
     lime-green
     mobile
     dayglo-green
     Calvin Klein’s
alters mode
metrosexuality
  wanes
atavistic machismo
conventional
  heterosexuality
     re-asserts
now in heat
  even sitting
     simian carriage
voice deepens to bass
still
  in his mien
  compassion remains
  love for beautiful Belén
     a potential marriage
*
you knock on wood
  but not to the beat
  of the current tune
     nervous tic
     frustration
     or ennui?
*
¡Olé!
camarero
el señor está aquí
in the house of bread
I’ll see you again
  with my order
     very soon…




Retrato de mi camarero


mi camarero
Manu
en negro
  externamente
     de pies a cabeza
realiza
  un ballet cotidiano
físico en forma
  buena estructura
  huesos delgados
aplomo del bailarín
piel bronceada
  tez inpecable
barba incipiente cuidada
  embellece
     cada mejilla
  vagamente
     con bigote
a veces hay un mohín
pero sobre todo
radiando cordialidad
  si
     heteros
     lesbianas
     bisexuales o gays
palos de hockey
  sus cejas
     arquee inquisitivamente
por debajo de un casi imperceptible
  frente cóncava
     tan joven
  sin surco
     (Botox de la juventud)
orbes morenos
  moteados de naranja
  fijado en su mirada
con labios rosas
  en forma de espadas
     la boca 
sonrisas genuinas
  revelando
dientes marfiles
incisivos leporinos
  ocultan
una lengua rosáfea
  apoyando
un tenor cadencioso
  timbre masculino
fosa nasal izquierda
  anillada débilmente
de una ligera
  nariz estrecha
sin mancha de otro modo
buena postura
cuerpo en movimiento
  se alarga
     un estirar
     calzoncillos
     elástico plateado
     subraya
  su sacro
     cabellos apenas visibles
     en carne perlada
     indica los pompis
     donde las palmas limpian
     sal, sudor y
     condensación
  su ombligo
     linéa rala
     demarcación
     al terrano de nadie 
abriendo
  paso seguro
  para deslizarse a través del aire
haciendo espacio
  donde no hay
torso estático
vientre a plomo
  hacia abajo
a un paquete estándar
  se cayendo
     ni a la izquierda
     ni a la derecha
     extraordinariamente
     hacia abajo
     aunque a la derecha
     cuando
     Belén
     está por él
brazos musculosos
  peludo
  naturalmente
     cuelgan abajo
  o
codos perpendiculares
  creando locomoción
  baile improvisado
movemiento
bandeja en la mano izquierda hirsuta
  equilibrio mantenido sobre los puntos
profiere con su
  muñeca ahora sanada
     la derecha
caderas giran
  y oscilan
bien proporcionadas
  tamaño de la palma
  nalgas
  punto medio exacto
  de entidad corpórea
     vibran
     alternativamente
en el giro
  de muslos musculares
abajo hasta carne blanca
  tobillos sin pelo
a pie derecho
espalda recta
cuello plana
  sólo una curva lo más leve
  nuca con lunar
  lugar para besar
  o marcador para
peinado recortado pulcramente
sobre una cabeza flaca
de hombros anchos
superior derecha
  brazo tatuado
     flor hawaiana
     cráneo de la Muerte
     alusión familiar
     contemporánea
     heráldica
en cuanto a su misión
lema de la mano de obra
para servir
  para recoger
  para limpiar
  mesas establecidas
  todos en su ámbito
  regados
  y alimentados
bien practicado
todo lo hecho
  tranquilamente
con manos limpias
  cuidosamente
  uñas recortadas
actúa con aplomo
  nunca crispado
  exudando calma
de vez en cuando
  pasa el tiempo
  del día
  o de la tarde
escuchando
  a los cuentos de los turistas
consumado
  profesional
camarero mío
*
movilidad rápida
no hay tiempo para mirar
habituales ignoran
  tus
  manchas de pantalón diarias
*
hiato atrae
no convencionalismo
  o individualidad
     verde lima
     móvil
     verde fosforescente
     Calvin Kleins
altera el modo
metrosexualidad
  mengua
machismo atávico
convencional
  heterosexualidad
     reafirma
ahora en celo
  incluso sentado
     actitud simiesca
voz profundiza al bajo
todavía
  en su semblante
  compasión permanece
  el amor a bella Belén
     un matrimonio potencial
*
te tocas madera
  pero no al ritmo
  de la melodía actual
     tic nervioso
     frustración
     o hastió?
*
¡Olé!
camarero
el señor está aquí
en la casa del pan
Te veré de nuevo
  con mí orden
     muy pronto …


Thursday, 29 January 2015

La Italiana, Estepona: a Review

Last year I thoroughly enjoyed an outing to Estepona (West of San Pedro de Alcántara, heading towards Gibraltar) and compared it to a less developed and less touristy Marbella. My companion and I discovered a clothing chain called Baileys - mainly due to their shop being one of the few open during siesta. Rico, my friend, discovered that the Spanish body-shape used by the store’s suppliers suits him better than that used by UK clothing retailers. And so we decided on another visit. Rico ended up with a couple of pairs of new jeans and some new tops. Even I was persuaded to purchase a lightweight over-top, which has come in rather useful here in Benalmádena, where the days are more often than not as warm as an English summer, but where, once the sun sets, the coolness of an English Autumn quickly saps the diurnal heat.

Naturally, after some serious shopping, we were in need of refreshment. We would have settled for tapas, but Rico espied a small square (more rhomboid really!) we had not discovered previously. We crossed the road and were pleasantly surprised to determine that it was solely filled with eateries, other than a classy (high-end) lighting emporium.


La Italiana’s outer façade (see image above) is nothing special: it appears as hundreds of other café-bars in Spain. What lured us inside was the enticing aroma of fresh coffee…


Inside (see image above), we were still prepared to go for savoury until we spotted the cake counter (see image below), filled with mouth-watering confections.


I opted for a meringue-topped, vanilla and light pastry concoction; Rico for the world-renowned Torta de Santiago [de Compostela], a dense yet unexpectedly light almond cake. Yet even the sweetness of the cakes did not detract from the smooth, delicately nutty, just the right side of bitter, Lavazza coffees.


The Italian waiter was on his own whilst the waitress was away on her lunch-break, but he coped admirably - with grace, amiability and politeness - with the large numbers of constantly changing covers. As ever in Spain (unlike in some Italian tourist spots), there was no rush for us to go. We took photos; we people-watched; we used the spotless conveniences; we had a second coffee. And so we were totally relaxed when it finally was time for us to take our exit.

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Live-Blogged Dinner

I have been staying at the four-star Hotel Restaurant Mühle since Sunday afternoon. Thus far I have eaten a supper, a luncheon, a dinner and two breakfasts. This evening I thought I would try to live-blog my dinner. I have never seen this done nor researched this, so in that sense from my perspective this is completely experimental.

Right then, at nearly ten past eight, let's see how this pans out…

Well, I am sitting at table - co-incidently the same as last night - although the waiting staff are not aware of this as it is a completely different set of servers. I cannot say I was exactly welcomed or that despite the fact there are plenty of empty tables, it seemed to be an issue whether or not I could be accommodated - and this despite being a guest of the hotel.

Nonetheless, within four minutes, I have my glass of smooth, blood-red house-wine, my half-litre (liter) of Lieler Scloßbrunnen mineral-water, fresh bread-rolls and local butter plus the menu in front of me.

Now it's time to let my imagination and taste-buds be stimulated and excited:

Well, despite the member of staff who originally greeted me attempting to press me to order, I have been left in peace to savour the menu. I am hoping that a Salat "Gourmandise" followed by Mistkratzerli will make me a happy chappy. I have no idea what the former is, other than a salad, as a google image search gives dozens of totally different dishes. A surprise then! The main appears to be a chicken plate and is to be accompanied by Rösti. Just need someone to take my order now; but personally no hurry, as I can sip my delicious wine…

At 20.38 my order has been taken. The salad is a mixture of salad leaves, melon, tomato and Parmesan. Sounds right up my street. The main is indeed a roast chicken dish. Looking forward to this.

My affable waiter is having to rush hither and thither and has built up quite a sweat on his forehead. The ambient temperature of the dining-room in which I have been seated is just right for me: not too warm with a pleasant cool zephyr whispering through. The waiter is certainly having to work hard for his money. Who said waitering is an easy option: damned hard, physical work!

A Scampi Salat taster arrived with the compliments of the kitchen. Two large, firm prawns on a bed of shredded mixed leaves and a very light, nutty dressing. My Salat "Gourmandise" arrived before the previous plate had been cleared. The original greeter however deftly slipped it to one side and then proffered a huge family-sized salad-bowl of "offering'. As well as the ingredients already stated (excluding the Parmesan), it included sliced white mushroom - quite flavourless - and grated carrot. Some of the salad leaves were obviously past their best having already begun to turn reddy-brown where white should be. The dressing was overly heavy, oily and far too salty. The salad had been so heavily salted that the natural sweetness of the melon was completely swamped. The cherry tomatoes used were soft and squishy. Over all, a disaster. The original waiter has just tried to serve me more; but I have had to politely explain why not, giving constructive criticism. Yikes!

Well, nearly an hour since I sat down and have thus far drunk half a glass of red wine, a few sips of mineral water, the chef's taster (really yummy!) and a few mouthfuls of the salad. Despite trying to avoid wheat bread, I have had to resort to consuming bread & butter. The roll has a fairly tough exterior, so not to be attempted with falsies, but the tug is followed by the satisfactory flavour of lightly salted butter on REAL bread. Mmmmmm……

Slightly stuffed now. So glad I did not gorge on the second bread-roll. My main turned out to be poussin (for which I cannot track down a German equivalent - so if you know it, please let me know!). Again it had been over salted with the effect that the breast meat was, whilst not dry, not exactly moist either. The poussin appears to have been salted prior to cooking, as the underside was just as salty as the topside - presumably to crisp the skin - but obviously this also has the effect of drawing out moisture from the flesh. As one would expect, the thigh flesh was the tastiest. The accompanying Rösti was perfectly acceptable to me, as I have been brought up on raw potato, but I imagine many Brits would have returned it as undercooked, although completely heated through. There was no crispy or crusty outer layer, which one would normally anticipate back in Blighty. However, the added (smoked?) bacon lardons were a mini orgasm on the tongue! Overall, simple cuisine cooked simply. Without boasting: no better than my own efforts chez moi. I personally would have preferred the addition of herbs to add flavour. Waitrose's own brand poussin have much more flavour than the local example I was just served. Perfectly acceptable however: a good dish.

Two minutes ago, my amiable waiter and I lapsed into Italian (!) whilst I ordered Crème brûlée mit Sauerkirschen und Vanilleeis. I am assuming this comes with something like Morello cherries and vanilla ice-cream. Oh, and a wee espresso…


Whilst I await my dessert, a few words about the restaurant’s furnishings. It looks like a typical traditional good quality French/German/Swiss restaurant. It’s beautifully appointed. Anyone familiar with dining in Spain will be pleased to hear that the dining-chairs are quite comfortable. After two hours of sitting, I am not yet feeling uncomfortable. Beautiful bunches of fresh blooms adorn each table. As soon as one is seated a single, white candle is lit - quite elegant. The table linens are top notch and napkins are substantial - so one’s clothing is not in peril! Cutlery is all silver: so for those worried about bugs, you can chill!

A word on accessibility. There is no ramp into the Hotel Restaurant. However there are only three (fairly steep) steps but with hand-rails aplenty. I have managed to enter as I am not currently wheel-chair bound. Were one in a chair, one would have to visit elsewhere. Furthermore, the WC’s are in the basement and there is no disabled facility on the ground level.

Definitely worth waiting for, dessert was smashing. The crème brûlée was better than fair. A minor criticism would have been for all or most of the sugar to have been crystallised rather than just the centre - but that is being picky. It was accompanied by warmed, sour cherries (probably not Morello as they were red rather than purple) which was an inspired contrast with the sweetness of the custard. The vanilla ice-cream was a temperature contrast, but did not really add to the dish flavour-wise. Perhaps a more interesting flavour might have been to choose espresso - to add bitterness to the palate - or caramel to bring the other tastes together.

My espresso is spot-on, not too strong for this time of the evening, but nevertheless still providing the caffeine-kick some of us enjoy at the end of a good repast.

My friendly waiter is no longer perspiring and the original waiter has been smiling for the last hour. Stress has passed.

To give a more rounded view of the restaurant I am now going to list my facebook updates from the past few days in relation to previous meals.

Sunday supper:


Hotel restaurant due to close at 21.30. We turn up at 20.45 and were eventually greeted by sullen maître d' who swiftly advised us that there was very little time. As Rico wanted nothing but a glass of wine and I a salad or a soup, we could not see why there could be any issue. Thankfully I was served the most perfect Kürbiscremesuppe, which had I known what it was probably would not have ordered it and would thus have missed a treat. It was cream of pumpkin soup. Rico & I both adored the lighter than light white wine which almost evaporated on the tongue. Fantastic! Slightly over salted for my personal tastes, so 9.5/10. %P 


Monday breakfast:

About to go exploring Binzen after a hearty breakie of:
fresh orange juice
1.5 pots of coffee
muesli with full-fat milk (sole choice, no plain yoghourt)
scrambled eggs with smoked salmon on toast
a Semmel roll with butter & honey
a raspberry yoghourt

%PPP

Monday evening dinner:

Service this evening came with the winsome smile of a stunningly beautiful local lass. My Trilogy of Goose-liver Delights was orgasmic (tho' a shame someone microwaved the Brioche bun that came with it so badly that it was still frozen on the inside!). My main was pork medallions which I quite literally broke up with a fork, the flesh was that tender. Delicious cuisine! So happy!!! %PPP
Rico dined on the cream of pumpkin soup, having tasted and enjoyed mine from the previous evening. He followed this with fresh ravioli stuffed with truffle. Mmmmm-mmmm!


Hotel Restaurant Mühle is definitely worth a try if one happens to be passing through the district of Lörrach. Binzen itself is quite pretty and the folk are friendly - most will greet you in passing on the street or on entering a shop (store).

Postscript: the bill has just arrived and I am informed they are not charging me for the salad. Bless them! %)