I now do a Supper Club and private catering!

Visit rodboroughsupperclub.blogspot.com/ for details or email: heidiandfranks@gmail.com to be added to the mailing list

Monday, 1 March 2010

My Dream Restaurant

Like many people, I dream of one day owning a restaurant and being in charge of food and stuff. I think the problem with my dream restaurant though is that it could never be financially viable. But we can dream...

It would be called 'Camache' after the french phrase noces de Camache relating to an episode in Don Quixote where he and Sancho Panza visit the wedding feast of a wealthy farmer called Camacho:-

The first thing that met Sancho's eyes was a whole ox spitted on the trunk of an elm and, in the hearth over which it was to roast there was a fair mountain of wood burning. Six earthen pots were arranged around this blaze... whole sheep disappeared within them as if they were pigeons. Innumerable skinned hares and fully plucked chickens, hanging on the trees, were also hanging from the branches so that they were kept cool in the air... there were piles of white loaves, like heaps of wheat in barns. cheeses, built up like bricks, formed walls and two cauldrons of oil, bigger than dyer's vats, were user for frying pastries, which were lifted out with two sturdy shovels and then plunged into another cauldron of honey standing nearby.

The restaurant would be situated under canvas with candles everywhere. Food would come in enormous portions taken straight from spit-roasted animals, or massive clay pots. It would be simple. A place for gluttony unabounded. The kind of place you fast for before a heavenly procession of delicacies whisks you back to contentment with pints of good wine and beer. All in a beautiful part of the countryside during warm summer months with a breeze of rapeseed and freshly-mown grass flavouring the aromas of sizzling meat and charcoal. Wastefulness would be our watchword. No squirrel, rabbit or wood pigeon in a ten mile radius would be safe. Everything would be made fresh. Simple sauces, fresh salad and vegetables, buckets of stew, barrels of table wine. The signature dish would be meat in a roll with sauce. It would be a flagrant waste of money but would be sheer bliss in its short, comet-like existence.

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