Ye olden days of waiting
It's hard for most to remember the things we have left behind,
but not for me.
Chefs with tall hats. Not even head chefs wear tall hats anymore. No, now it's baseball caps with a thousand logos. And what ever happened to chefs whites and blue checked trousers? All gone whacky that's what happened! Chefs look like 1970's jazz musicians now. Even George Melly would balk at the outfits they wear to work now. Flashy cunts.
"Exotic" specials. And by exotic I mean pineapple rings. Those were halcyon days my friends. No menu was complete without something being topped with a ring of tinned pineapple, mainly gammon it has to be said but there were other things too. A perfectly formed ring of sugary pineapple also found it's way onto summer salads too and alongside spicy chicken. Tinned pineapple was a luxury in pre-tiger Ireland/during the troubles with only the richest drug dealers and celebrity terrorists being able to afford the real deal. But it wasn't just pineapple rings, hell no, there were other exotic items to be found on menus in the 70's and 80's. Pure orange being just about the strangest. And by pure I mean from a can. How the fuckity fuck they got away with offering a small glass of canned OJ as a first course I will never know.
But just as the bow tie was replaced with the open collar shirt sponsored by Guinness the sweet trolley was replaced with a two tonne refrigerated behemoth that just didn't have the same magic and sparkle.
Food served in baskets, prawn cocktails served in wine glasses, gravy, spag bol, fondue, aspic jelly, meat n three veg all replaced with rocket salads, tagliatelle, and my least favourite thing stuff that ain't soup served in a bowl. I hanker after a simpler time when we, the waiters, had the control and you, the customer, didn't know the difference between a fish fork and a soup spoon...........