Dear Customer
Some of my Fresh Direct Directors and I have recently been engaged in the process of buying and renovating a rundown local village pub, The reasons for this we can cover in another tale, however for this month and to begin the story there has been some internal debate over its naming, styling and marketing.
For my part I have voiced concern that we should avoid at all costs going down the “poncey” route, making the sort of mistakes some retired lawyer from London with more cash than business acumen might do, starting with a daft name which in no way reflects the locale, the edifice or the sort of business image you might wish to convey.
I believe that one of the things we do really well in this country is our rural and village pubs, and these rely on traditional character, a warm welcome, cosy ambience, good beer and uncomplicated, decent grub. Tinker with any of these and you risk losing all. The pleasing atmosphere of a good pub is not rocket fuel science – it has evolved. If you want to make an expatriate Brit homesick the mere mention of our country pubs will conjure up images of real ales, wooden tables, comfy seats, open fires and good honest meals. It ain’t broke, so why fix it?
In my opinion we should set out our stall to emphasise the Englishness of our first pub, starting with its name. This should, I believe, reflect some interesting aspect of the locality or perhaps the building itself. If you choose to call your pub “the Jiving Gerbil” you might as well put up a giant neon sign telling the world that Friday night is karaoke night followed by champions league football and a quiz, and you will deserve all the frills that will arrive at your newly-created tasteless central.
The interior design is also important and again I am in favour of tradition - low ceilings, stone walls, wood panelling and ornamental bric-a-brac which help create intimacy and interest. No doubt the Jiving Gerbil would feature lots of mirrors, plasma screens, a plastic recreation of the 50s juke box, strobe lights and primary colours – fine for a city nightclub but not for a country pub. By now you will not be surprised to learn that I would like the bar to feature good quality ales, wines, spirits and liqueurs, and that gaudy cocktails, wine on-tap from a plastic box, expensive but weak fizzy imported lagers served with a wedge of lime jammed into the neck of the bottle and, above all, alcopops aimed at the teenage binge-drinking market are an utter anathema to me.
This brings us to perhaps my greatest concern... the food. Or, more precisely, my worries about the increasing pretentiousness surrounding it. A pontification about poncification if you will. Ask yourself a question... when you have the munchies, and are heading towards the pub to put that right what are you dreaming of? Frozen air of parmesan with muesli? Pigeon droppings wrapped in m’tout, Razor shell clam sushi with ginger spray? No, me neither. Ok, how about a nice slab or two of roast beef ? Or maybe some sweet lamb; or pork with its crackling; or maybe some crispy-skinned chicken... now we’re talking - simple but tasty, good value for money, and unlikely to leave you feeling that you could be doing with a pizza on the way home.
It’s not that I feel that molecular gastronomy has no place in our lives, but should I wish to indulge in that I will join the waiting list at Ferran Adrià’s El Bulli in Catalonia. Indeed by all accounts there is currently no finer culinary experience than that which can be enjoyed at either El Bulli, Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck at Bray or at René Redzepi’s Noma in Copenhagen. This last, recently named by its peers as the finest restaurant on the planet, has moved back from the molecular gastronomic approach towards the ancient hunter-gatherer culture which re-introduces mankind to many foods eaten by our ancestors in the past.
All well and good, but the pub is in rural Oxfordshire not Copenhagen and has to survive on a Monday evening in January, and so to the root problem. For every genius in the shape of Ferran, Heston or René there are a thousand wannabe’s, a whole generation of inexperienced or underachieving pub owners that believe that all they have to do is create a spectacular array of froths, foams, cappuccinos, gels and airs just like their heroes, use 10 words where one would do and the Michelin Stars will inevitably begin to accumulate.
As with any artistic skill, time and effort are required for accomplishment, and likewise cooking with advanced ingredients without grounding in the classical culinary disciplines will produce the gustatory equivalent of cacophony... a train-wreck of clashing tastes and colours. Of course, every so often another genius will emerge and take the avant-garde off in another direction, but the vast majority of aspiring chefs would do better to maintain a more conventional approach and stick to simple but excellent interpretations of traditional British classic dishes as would befit traditional British eateries which will mean they can put local bums on seats with some regularity rather than relying on becoming a global gastronomic destination to pay the bills. In other words, in my opinion fillet of puffin sautéed in its own guano is not a viable substitute for a good old roast or a satisfying casserole. Now all I have to do is get my fellow-directors onside if the Jiving Gerbil drive-thru Himalayan diner is to be avoided... I suspect I will not have too much of a fight on my hand.
How about “The muddy Duck” the name that is, not the food !! I look forward to keeping you all up to speed with progress.
Kind regards,
David Burns
Managing Director