About to head over to the restaurant for a cookschool, but one of the advantages of my day starting at 6.30am these mornings to feed the puppies, is that I get an extra hour at my computor to read incoming stuff,  which means I'm feeling organised. Always a nice way to face the world.

Need to pop accross the road first to get some mail away ( not everything is electronic yet), but thought I'd do a quick link to this article on criticism of some of Robert Parkers wine critics accepting payment for some of their wine travels.

Robert Parker is a behemoth in the world of wine critics, revered and reviled in equally strong amounts, so part of this just be a deliberate attempt to put an indelible stain on his reputation, but critics should be seen to be squeaky clean at all times I would have thought, if they want to retain any degree of credibility.

Bethlehem Cornerstone are having a party to celebrate their first year in business tonite, and the marquee's up and the band's playing, and I don't think I'll be getting to sleep anytime soon, becos this house is far from sound proof.  So having fed the puppies and tucked them up in their kennel, I've just read this New York Times article, via Michael Ruhlman's blog, and I thought it was particularly apt, and a wonderful description of someone following their heart to discover their lives work, rather than succumbing to what they thought they ought.

I grew up in a household where a high expectation was placed on the notion of all of us going on to get tertiary education. My parents had not been given the opportunity in their youth, and therefore they set a requirement on us achieving what they hadn't been able too. It was simply expected of us.

Through a somewhat circulatory route I finally ended up with a BCA, majoring in accountancy, and for a year or so worked in a small accounting firm in Wgtn, before we made the call to move up to Tauranga and buy the restaurant with my parents.

I can distinctly remember gazing out the window from my desk, which in those days was on the 41st floor of the Williams building on Lambton Quay, temporarily distracted from a cheque book I was coding for a client, and thinking to myself, that I would much rather be out there writing the cheques, than sitting in an office coding them.

I learnt alot in my time there, and the skills have come in useful over the years in our own business, but I never felt like I really belonged. I never felt that that was it - my career path.

Whereas the restaurant life and all that it means, is my vocation. I feel incredibly lucky to enjoy what I do to the degree that I do.  But its not a profession with the same degree of kudos that accountancy has. Does that bother me? Certainly not now, not remotely, but perhaps for those first couple of years I was a product of my upbringing, where the professions were looked up too, and maybe I considered that what we did lacked some of that gravitas.

One of the partners from the old accounting firm came to visit us shortly after we opened the restaurant - he was a sweet man and an old school accountant. I sat down to have a coffee with him after his lunch, and he floored me when he pronounced that he couldn't get his head around how I would leave a profession like accounting to work in an industry where I 'served people". I equally was stunned that he didn't feel that as an accountant he was also serving clients.

But I didn't doubt that what he was really alluding too, was that underlying assumption that waiting tables is a lowly occupation that doesn't require a high skill level, and is therefore not a job to aspire too.

It is a general preception that I think became all too prevalent for a number of years, when it was assumed that everyone wanted to go to work in a suit,  and all the apprenticeship schemes were done away with. A philosophy that created a serious vacumn of skilled labour in a wide range of industries. Stupid really.

And now I see signs everywhere that we are trending back in the other direction - that people are discovering that a job that is a craft, is satisfying on so many levels, and not something to be in any way disparaged.

Our own children will never be coralled into an occupation becos their parents think its the correct one. They have the world at their feet in terms of the options open to them, and unlike our generation they don't appear to link status with an office job. Quite the contrary in fact. Its an approach I admire and think is really healthy.

As I've mentioned once or twice before, perfecting macarons has been a mission for our kitchen for the last year.

The professional chefs in the restaurant have taken my first very humble efforts to a whole new league, and any time I encounter a french blog with photos of the macarons in patissieres over there, I'm able to confidently think, that ours are as good.

And achieving that standard has been no mean feat, becos they're not easy.

We sell a steady stream in a week - some people have them in the restaurant as a sweet note with coffee, and some people take home packets of 4.

We store them in large glass jars on the bar, and some people when they walk in exclaim straightaway, knowing exactly what they are, and others comment on the strange looking melting moments!

I did however read in this Paris Breakfast blog that Laduree , one of the upper end french patissieres sells over 12,000 macarons a day, from its 4 shops in Paris. No  - that is not a misprint!

We pipe ours by hand, but I guess if you're making that kind of volume, the need to get things automated becomes a bit of an issue, as this series of photos shows.

Somehow I don't think our requirements will ever reach quite that level...

Jamie has just made some licorice, orange and white chocolate ones, which are utterly stunning, and seeing as how licorice icecream is so strongly identified with Somerset, could create a nice kind of niche, I figure...

My brain is currently full of mundane matters, so to cheer myself up I've been sitting at the computor getting up to date on some of the food blogs that I most enjoy.

Not at all surprised to see that Dorie Greenspans latest blog is a beautifully written description of David Lebovitzs latest book. Both of them are Americans who live for a reasonable amount of the year in Paris, and they are both very respected food writers, both in the blogsphere and also with published cookbooks.

I had been planning on writing my own interpretation of the book, but having now read Dorie's, I've decided to take the easy option and instead link you to her eloquent description. She manages to say things so much more pertinently than I would manage in my current befogged state!

And have just read this latest blog from David Lebovitz himself, who talks about the questions he was asked at  a book signing session for the book. In it he describes the 15 things he'd most miss about Paris if he were to leave.

Is a girl allowed to dream??! Have a look at this short video....

The puppies are growing up rapidly, and we are  into a nice sort of routine that isn't quite as fraught as the first few weeks. I  now understand why people looked at us sideways, when we mentioned casually that we were thinking of having a litter. They knew that it would be an involved process, but we were blissfully ignorant of quite what was involved. Ah well! Its been a step learning curve, but one I'm glad we embarked on becos we've learnt alot in the process, and now have 7 bonny wee puppies, that really are a pure delight. We've advertised them on Trademe, and have had a heartening level of interest, becos that was the other issue that was looming on the horizen, what were we going to do if we didn't sell them all? We hadn't quite got round to devising a Plan B.

I'm also incredibly glad that we at least had the foresight to do the mating at a time that ensured delivery over a quieter period at the restaurant, becos it doesn't bear thinking about, how we would have jiggled it all if it had happened right in the middle of our catering season. This way we're getting time to enjoy them. Its quite easy to loose a half hour or so after feeding them, when they play and curl up on our laps, and we watch fascinated, as the personalities increasingly start to emerge. Its probably the first time in my life( and no doubt the last!), that I've wished that my lap had a wider circumference than it does, so I could fit more on, when they clamber up, intent on snuggling in. There is no doubt that they are going to be very people adjusted when they go to new homes in a few short weeks.

They are cute beyond any words that I can adequately use to describe!

I've come over to the house just now to feed them, while I wait for the last few tables to finish their coffees and depart. I've changed into my 'puppy' clothes and therefore don't want to head back over till the restaurant is empty. Its going to be a bit of a mission organising the tables for tom nite - we're heavily booked,  and the table configuration is causing some angst. Sometimes you need to wait to see what it looks like when you move the tables into position, before you know whether its going to work, and we can't do that until the customers have gone.

Table positioning is a jigsaw puzzle that requires alterations virtually every nite becos of the size of the bookings , and is one reason I'm often bemused at the demands that some people make when they make bookings, in terms of where they want to be seated. But then we also quite regularly get people who demand a 'quiet' table. Something that requires me to pause always before I respond, and mention to them that we are a restaurant, and are open to other people, and can't therefore guarantee in advance what the noise levels are going to be. But if you want to eat out on a Saturday nite which is almost invaribly the busiest nite in the week, then theres a reasonably high probability that there is going to be an elevated hum in the restaurant... Different people generate different noise levels. Sometimes a table of 8 for example, can be relatively quiet, with conversation centered around one person speaking at a time - and sometimes it can reach crescendo levels when all 8 are vying for center stage at the same time.

The moral as always is, you can't please all the people all the time, I guess!

We've had an exceptionally quiet week to date, which I blame on the chillingly,  frosty weather thats descended, and yet we're turning away tables for tom nite, a Saturday nite. Hate it when that happens! But does mean we're keen to fit as many tables in where we can, so as  to try and up the weekly total to something vaguely more respectable. And when good customers ring wanting a table I hate having to say no - and will contort myself as far as I can to fit them in.

- Just been over to the restaurant, and delighted to see that Nicki and Holly had the tables pretty much sorted. We needed to fit in another 2, but I think we've done pretty well. No doubt when Rhonda turns up tom afternoon, she'll decide to adjust one or two, becos she's the master at fitting in tables, and we all defer to her. I just say yes to good customers,  when they ring wanting a table, and then leave Rhonda to figure where we're going to fit them in. But it always seems to work becos we get the odd late cancellation, or people are amenable about waiting in the bar until a tables available.

Some aren't though. Some people can't bring themselves to alter their plans by half an hour -and just point blank refuse to be flexible. Which is fine. We simply can't fit them in then when we're full - theres only so many tables and so many chairs to go round. So if they don't want to come a bit later when a table will have come free, they go somewhere else, and thats just the way it is.

One of the unforseen and positive outcomes of having a litter of puppies, is that our day starts significantly earlier then we are used too (  a chorus of concentrated hungry yelping is impossible to sleep thru), and it means that I have usually done more by 10am than I've ever been known for. Remarkable really!

Whether the enthusiasm for this burst of early morning activities will survive the eventual departure of the puppies remains to be seen! Human babies, way back when, didn't convert my body clock, and I'm not totally sure that canine ones will have a longterm impact on its default position either. After a lifetime of working late at nite, I've never been one to be too enthusiastic about early mornings...

But the feeling of virtuosity at having achieved so much, so early in the day, can't be denyed. I'm especially smug right now, cos I've even managed to convince myself to sit down at my desk and deal with 2 jobs that have been hovering around, as I procrastinate over confronting them. Done and dusted and its not even 10am!

One of those jobs was a carefully worded email to lawyers in Auckland from whom I recieved, what I think could adequately be described as a threatening letter last week demanding payment of the Phonographic Performances NZ Licence.

Becos Somerset is a business, and therefore a 'non domestic' environment, which is accessible to the public, we are required by law ( The Copyright Act), to pay an annual fee of $150 for the the priviledge of playing recorded music. Music that I have paid full retail price for the CDs. Its not just restaurants or cafes caught under the requirement, its any business  that plays recorded music where the public can hear it, ( even music on phones).

I think its totally absurd, which is why I've ignored the letters demanding payment up until this point. Its revenue collection at its worst. They say they represent the people who make the CDS, and who are therefore entitled to recompense when the music is played to the public. I say they were recompensed when I made the decision to buy certain CDs.

I'd love to know what makes music such a special case. We purchase art works and have them sitting in a 'non domestic'environment where they are viewed by the public. Should I be paying an ongoing annual fee to the people who created  those works for the priviledge of doing so? Of course not.

We sell recipes via our cookschools, some of which we know go on to be used by other commercial operations. Should those people be paying us a fee for Copyright use? That would be absurd.

So I'm curious as to what makes music in particular different to other forms of creative activity, and I have to say the whole thing irritates me in the extreme, in no small part becos I believe its a rort, and I have no choice really but to swallow it and pay up.
I did contemplate playing no music in the restaurant - but my mother used to have an expression for that kind of kneejerk reaction, 'cutting of your nose to spite your face', I believe it was!

I did also consider digging in and fighting it on the grounds of principle,  even though they inform me that failure to comply could lead to fines of up to $150,000 or 5 years imprisonment ( I kid you not!), but as a very wise man pointed out to me in the restaurant the other nite, standing on principle is all very fine and dandy, but it always ends up being a drawout expensive process. And do I really want to drag that around with me. The hard cold reality is that I don't have the money or inclination for it - so a whinge in here is going to have to suffice.

Instead, I'll pay up, begrudgingly, and with ill grace, but sometimes thats what you have to do.

I didn't see the Sunday programme on TV the other nite where Mike King talks about the intensive farming in pens,  which are in sheds, of pigs that is happening, legally, in NZ. I've just had a quick look via TVNZondemand, and turned it off, becos watching animals suffer to that degree breaks my heart.

The contrast in conditions to the way those poor animals are been bred, and those up at Free Range Farms in Hume Rd, and other such pastural based farms, is obsene. As I mentioned in an earlier blog we went up to visit the guys at Free Range Farm, to have a look at their pigs, and came away feeling completely reassured that the animals are born and grow up in a completely natural and stressfree enviroment. 

And becos I always feel a titch conflicted over the fact that an animal has to die so that I can eat the meat, I can at least assuage  some of my consience by the fact that the pork we chose to use at the restaurant, is farmed humanely. I actually need to know that, and I don't think I'm alone in that desire.

I see in the Herald this morning that the Pork Industry Board have swung into damage control and are saying that if all pigs were converted to free range from pens, then the cost of pork would go up by $2 a kilo.

I have abolutely no doubt in my mind, that I would rather eat less pork and pay more for it, then wittingly buy cheap meat that is farmed under such unbelievably appalling conditions.

I used to think that making sure the pork I bought was farmed in NZ was enough of a guarantee that the animals had been raised humanely. But this programme puts the lie to that. No-one surely, can say that that is a desirable way to raise animals. No-one that is, who isn't driven by keeping costs down to the sacrifice of everything else.

You can buy Free Range Farm pork, which we heartily recommend, not only becos of the wonderful conditions its farmed under, but also ( and importantly,) the flavour of the meat, direct from them via their website, of from  the Village Butchery in Katikati .

The food a family eats in a week. This link is to a series of photos of families from all over the world showing the amount of food they eat in a week, and the cost of it in US$.

Extraordinary the range of the amount that human beings are capable of surviving....

A customer of ours who I'm very fond of, Catharine Campbell-Smith has just bought "The Village Pantry'(5525061) shop out at The Village on the corner of Clarkes Rd and SH2.Its a tiny little jewel box of a shop, which she's stuffed full of all sorts of food goodies. The type of gourmet preserves that its so nice to have in your pantry,  to add that extra dollop of panache, when you feel you need it.

Pickles, chutneys, wonderful looking lavash bread from Waiheke Island, roasted cherry chutney amongst others from Provisions in Central Otago  - a veritable treasure trove of yummy things!

She's also stocked up large on cheeses - featuring award winning NZ cheeses in particular, like "Over the Moon Dairy' which has just won the paramount medal at the latest cheese awards. And shes aiming to stock Clevedon Buffalo mozarello and yoghurt, which having tasted the yoghurt that they had sent me down a sample of, I would suggest you just have to try. The yoghurt is thick and unctous and tangy - simply the best yoghurt I've ever had. I like my yoghurts in the Greek style, I have to admit, tart rather than sweet. And the mozzarella was the closest to what we ate in Italy a few years ago. It has a very short shelf life mozarella- a bit like fresh milk, and I've never enjoyed the cheeses imported from Italy as much as I did when we ate it ( in vast quantities) over there. But this was beautiful. I can feel a trip to go and look at these Buffalo's coming on!

Catharines deliberately pitched the shop as something a bit different and special, and its primarily full of New Zealand made product which underscores how much more is been made to a fantastically high standard in this country these days.
A wonderful place for special treats!And we all need the occasional special treat in our lifes, I figure...

The pups are fed and asleep - one currently, comfortably ensconced in Ricks arms- the lights are dimmed, and we're tiptoeing around just as you would for human babies, which is maybe a bit over the top. But we're finding the process of ensuring that 7 canine babies get fed enough in a day, possibly more fraught than feeding a whole restaurant of people. Ah well...we're learning as we go, and its been rather a steep curve!

We had a cookschool today - a really nice group of people, quite a few of whom were coming for the first time, which is unusual these days. The vast majority of people who come to the classes are returnees. A couple of the new people, had come with friends who've been many times, and it intrigued me to hear little mini conversations during the class as the regular would explain to her friend, some side point or idiosyncrasy of Ricks recipes, that those of us who are familar with the classes take for granted. For instance : ' the oven is always on 200oC'; 'he always uses unsalted butter';etc... Kind of makes me pause and realise how much we've got to take for granted over the years.

He does a feijoa crumble in this class, but feijoas may not quite last out to the end of the series. However with tamarillos coming on we will switch to those or maybe even rhubarb. The feijoas have been in abundance this season though, we've had a great crop, plus some wonderful box loads from friends, which we always appreciate immensely. Somewhat compensates for the occasional short, sharp conversation we have with people who feel it is OK to come thru the gate onto our land and strip the trees. We interrupted one man early in the morning last week, when we were running the dogs next door - he was ensconsed in the hedge half way along, having stripped it of fruit, and laid it all in a series of mounds, which he was obviously planning on putting into the onion sacks he'd brought along. And he had the audacity to be quite put out at Ricks suggestion that he leave, and leave the fruit behind! He was back in the afternoon doing the same from the road frontage, which we don't have quite the same problem with ,( although it would be rather nice to be asked if it was OK! ) - but I just wish people wouldn't pull them of the trees, becos I've always been taught that that is bad for the trees. Feijoas are only ripe when they drop. Hmmm... Some people just don't like the effort involved in bending over maybe?

Along with the cookschool, we currently have a dessert on the menu featuring the feijoas, with butterscotch sauce, and white chocolate parfait. Its part of the new menu that started tonite. And the kitchen team are constantly playing around with new flavour combinations for the macarons, now they've  perfected  the difficult technique, to my true delight. I think the feijoa ones they made a couple of weeks back would have to be up there with my favourite flavours, although having said that, the passionfruit ones last week were sensational! I say with total conviction that these macarons are as good as any you would get in a patissiere in Paris - we just don't quite get into the intensely bright colours that they seem to favour- but I suspect they would, if they could get hold of the right food dyes!

Our TV is broken, and in being, hopefully repaired, becos I'm not too enthusiastic about the thought of forking out for a new one right now, and it feels strange not to come over from the restaurant and flick it on to watch Boston Legal reruns - but Ricks even got out the guitar tonite, and I'm hearing songs I haven't heard in years, so maybe a bit of time without it, is no bad thing!

I feel very proud of the restaurant tonite. Its about 9.30pm and I've come back over to the house to feed our mother pooch who is putting so much into feeding her pups,  that she needs regular top ups of calories,  just to keep going. As it is,  she looked postively wilted in the whelping box when I got over, and has now had some meat and milk and a walk in the fresh air, and is currently surveying her brood from the beanbag, where they can't get to her. She needs a break from their incessant demands. I understand that!

I am proud of the restaurant on 2 levels - becos it has a particularly nice hum about it tonite. We are doing big numbers and the staff are busy, but it doesn't feel frenetic becos efforts have been made to space bookings, and customers in the main have responded well to that. One table didn't. They objected on the phone when they were asked to come half an hour earlier than the time they wanted, becos we already had a number of tables arriving at that time - but said with ill grace that they would. But they haven't - they've turned up at 7.30 with 5 other tables, becos they see it as their right to do so. What can you say? Most people these days understand when we explain that we try to space customers for the customers benefit, and most people are perfectly happy to be amenable. But occasionally there is one, who thinks it is completely in for a dig to be asked to alter their plans, however marginally,  for the greater good. What fascinates me personally about these people is that they don't seem to be able to grasp the very simple truth, that if they are pleasant then we will be pleasant in return. If they're rude, we can't exactly afford the luxery of being rude in return, but we can certainly withdraw, and are much less inclined to go out of our way. We are human after all...

The other reason that I'm proud of the restaurant is that I am effectively surplus tonite, and Rhonda and the team of Judy, Katie, Holly and Nicki have got the front of house moving smoothly. I've chatted to the people I know well, done a few trays of glasses, and stepped in in a couple of places when gaps emerged, but basically I wasn't needed, and I have to see that as a positive. We're going to loose Holly and Nicki over the next 2 months - Holly's heading for an amazing rowing scholarship at an American University, and Nicki's following her heart back down to Christchurch, so my time to work the tables is going to reemerge. For so many years I needed and had to be there, whenever the restaurant was open, and that becomes a major milestone around the neck after awhile, and I'm sure is why so many people burn out in this trade. To be able to see the restaurant humming with big numbers and to know that it doesn't need me to make it happen, is a liberating feeling.

 I do however have an exceptional person in Rhonda, who manages things in a superb manner - and the team we have around us at the moment is the best we've ever had I think. They're nice people who enjoy what they're doing - and that feeds thru to everyone. We ate at a good restaurant in Auckland recently - well at least it is a restaurant that is getting alot of rave reviews, and I couldn't quite put my finger on what was not jelling with me, until I realised that the staff were miserable. No one was enjoying themselves - and the interaction between the kitchen and the front of house which you could see thru the open kitchen was non existant. That gloominess was pervasive, and I thought that was fascinating.
Tables in a busy restaurant tend to be little islands unto themselves, intent on their own conversation, and maybe I picked up on the general ambience there,  just cos I tend to be looking around more than the average client, but certainly I found their overly serious faces and abrupt communication between each other, had a depressing effect on me. All interesting...

I am sure there are people who come to Somerset who wish I would be a bit quieter on occasion - maybe they would prefer a less ebullient style of service, so the moral really I guess, is, as a very wise man who sends me many pearls of wisdom when I need them, said in a recent email: ' you can please some of the people some of the time, you can please some of the people all of the time, but you can't please all of the people all of the time'. Touche.

I had a purpose to this rant when I started - but I've kind of gone off subject just a titch! Think I'll go and cuddle a puppy...

We head up to Auckland shortly to pick up Courteney from the airport. She doesn't get in until close to 11pm, so we'll use the time to have a catch up dinner with Hannah - Tabou I think. I've just taken a couple of sultana cakes out of the oven - one to take up to Hannah, and one to keep my husband going back here. While I've been waiting for them to cook, I've finally finished this fascinating book, and closed it with a distinct sense of reluctance.

It describes the lives of the inhabitants of France - whereever possible thru their own eyes, and the exploration and colonization of their land by foreigners and natives, from the late seventeenth century to the early twentieth. Mr Robb is an historian who rode on a bike around France to collate information for this book, travelling something like 14,000 miles  in the process. He writes eloquently, and in fascinating detail, and I now have a much better grasp on the forces that shaped and reshaped the political landscape, and developed France into the modern state of today.
I found myself constantly reading out anecdotes to Rick - snippets of information that I found fascinating. Not something I tend to do as a normal rule, but so much of this was illuminating and a description of a world that I could barely comprehend.
 
The gruelling daily existance of so many is perhaps a useful reminder to those of us who wander around with naive visions of 'going back to the land'. As with  most things in life, its a question of degree, of where you choose to place yourself on the spectrum, or at least we, in our daily life have a choice about such matters. They didn't. The church, the state and village expectations mapped out life's  route for all, regardless of an individuals desires.  Rick and I have just being down below to the orchard with the dogs, and picked a wheelbarrow load of fallen avocados and walnuts, something that is hugely satisfying - and wandered back up the driveway feeling suitably impressed with ourselves.  We get to pick the nice bits in our life - but a rural existance back then, would have been hard, tough and unrelenting. In fact at 48 I would have most likely been dead - the expected lifespan was much shorter. Hmmm...

One of the reviewers described the book as a treasure trove, and I thought that was most apt. It is stacked with fascinating detail and written in a style that is a pleasure to read. We are both starting to murmur about going back to France - it won't happen in the immediate future, but it will happen, and the more body of knowledge I build up in the interim, the happier I will be. I probably should start working on my language fluency too, but that isn't as much fun as curling up with a good book!