Come Dine With Karen and Alan

Things got off to a flying start when we realised we were skint. We were on nibbles. I thought about using a readymade ciabatta mix I have had in the cupboard for a few months and chopping some cherry tomatoes up and passing it off as crostini. I thought better of it and ‘fessed up to Karen that we were flat broke. She said it was ok, they had some crisps and nuts from Christmas; that would do. Karen said just to bring ourselves.

When Paula and Jason pulled up, Jason was straight out of the car, darting to our front door ready to carry something for us. He was expecting le creuset ramekins filled with stuffed olives. He seemed a little bemused when he saw we were empty handed. They had stuffed peppers, lager and a bunch of flowers in their boot.

We had frazzles, crisps and nuts for nibbles. Me and Danny had lemonade, everyone else had alcoholic beverages, even Jacqui, who was on the 5% proof wine because she was driving.

A big deal was made of us not drinking. The boys are puzzled with Danny’s lifestyle and his vitamin supplements, cycling, tight lycra and healthy eating.  Not that he was wearing any tight lycra at that moment. Much was made of my lack of consumption of lager. Ian portrayed me as a reformed lush. He mentioned yards of lager and turning up already drunk. Danny chipped in that before he met me someone at work had said to him that he would “do well to keep up with her” (me). I felt the need to defend myself and made a feeble attempt to say I didn’t need drink to have a good time but it fell on deaf ears and totally humiliated I took myself off to the toilet and had a little cry. Danny shortly followed me, asked if I was ok and said the food was ready.

The stuffed peppers from Jason’s boot were first up. There was a pile of leaves on the side of my plate. The peppers were really tasty, stuffed with rice, sprinkled with cheddar but if it were me cooking them, I would have given them another 10 minutes in the oven.

We had fajitas next made by Old El Paso and assembled by Karen. I had beef with a spicy relish. It was delicious. I had three. The third one I shoved lettuce on.

Pudding/dessert was M&S mini cream cakes, purchased by Jacqui. I had a crème crisp and a profiterole shortly followed by the same again. I decided to have a bottle of San Miguel.

Dinner table talk was varied and as always fairly entertaining. Ian seemed tetchy. He complained that Jacqui had not shut up in the car on the way there. He said he thought she mustn’t have spoken to anyone all day. The boys wanted to know about Danny’s stag do. Danny suggested a cycling holiday in the Lakes, or a trip to Scandinavia. These suggestions were met with mock laughter and disbelief. Karen asked Danny whether or not he had even been on a stag do before.

 I kept looking at the view from the window. A raised circular lawn surrounded by a woodland area, decking to the side. The bottom of the garden tree lined with just the tips of the pennines visible over the trees. Karen once told me that they had deer in the garden. A detached residence, it had been a right mess when Karen and Alan had bought it. They have transformed it into a contemporary home, Karen has designed the interior, doing a lot of the art work herself. No kids, one dog, plasma screen telly on the wall, latest wii games, loads of money. As compared to my 1 kid, no dog, tescos own brand telly, hate wii and no money. I felt jealous of her and that big round chair in the corner. She told me she often curled up in it and fell asleep.

Ian talked about the effects of Viagra saying it would give you a hard on for 4 hours. His wife Jacqui’s facial expression and shriek proved she was horrified by this thought and suggested half an hour was long enough. She then changed that to 20 minutes.

Alan asked again about Danny’s stag do. Jacqui shut the boys up by saying they probably would not be invited and that Danny has his own friends, not them lot.

We watched a couple of Lady Gaga videos and I wanted to go home. We had to wait for Jason to finish his lager first. An hour later and about 5 songs later Paula said “are you right” and that was our cue to go home. Jacqui said next time we meet could we have a takeaway.We all said our farewells gave each other hugs and kisses. I stroked Karen’s Yorkshire Terrier and made my way up the drive to the car.

Once home, I went straight upstairs, put my nightie on, earplugs in and went to sleep. I love my friends. 

House Tuna. Chicken New Yorker

The smell of fry ups enticed us in. The café was narrow, the counter on one side and two four seater tables towards the back. Danny sat at the table in the corner whilst I waited to be served. I saw 2 fried eggs on the griddle. On the worktop next to the griddle there were 2, seemingly abandoned, rounds of toast with bacon piled on top. A blond haired woman with too much mascara appeared, looked at me, then disappeared round the back. She re-appeared a second later with a mobile phone under her chin and got back to the abandoned bacon butties. I was served by a man who had no front teeth and very long finger nails. I asked for a coffee, a toasted teacake and a glass of milk.  He then took a pen, pad of paper and very carefully and slowly wrote my order down, long hand. It took him a good few seconds to add up 70p, 60p and 90p. He asked me if I would like sugar in my coffee. I said I didn’t, then I went to sit down with Danny. There were 4 very greasy place mats on the table. A moment later the toothless man came over to us and told us there were no teacakes left. He went to the till, returned to us and handed Danny 60p. He told us the coffees wouldn’t be long. I enjoyed my huge mug of coffee, for which I was only charged 90p. Danny’s pint of cold milk was only 70p. As we bade our farewell I espied a chalk board on the wall offering House Tuna and Chicken New Yorker.

Chicken New Yorke

Balcony Bistro Lancaster Market Hall

 Balcony Bistry

Lancaster Market Hall. Pouring with rain outside. Lets see what 13,000 people have signed a petition to save. It’s the place to go for meat (I counted at least four butchers' stalls), AC/DC t shirts, pick and mix sweets or bath towels. 2 escalators in the middle. At the foot of one of them, a bench, on which a man was sitting, eating a battered fish with his fingers. Balcony Bistro is where the name suggests. Danny opted for the broccoli and stilton soup. I ordered a coffee and 2 Tunnocks teacakes. I was hungry but as I waited to be served I had the urge to choose something that was in a sealed packet. It was just a feeling I had. We sat overlooking the escalators. The place was swarming with plastic flower decorations. The rest of the clientele included a non speaking couple and three workmen tucking into roast dinners. I assumed they were workmen as their clothing was covered in paint. Two old women sat near the exit were demolishing a couple of helpings of corned beef hash.There was an old man in the corner eating a pie. Little conversation was taking place. The place was tawdry. Even the plastic roses had a coating of dust.  Framed abstract art covered the interior walls alongside paintings of the plains of Africa. The stainless steel sugar bowl and milk jug, which the waitress brought out, were covered in finger marks. Danny’s soup came with a white barmcake, ready cut. He couldn’t manage the soup. Danny said he had a cold, he couldn’t taste it and it was hurting his mouth ulcer. As we got up to leave Pink’s “so what” started playing

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Tango 2. Peel Green

A cup of tea and a filter coffee, strong, black,  please. The young girl behind the counter stared at the coffee machine and proceeded to read out all the coffees to me. I thought this was brilliant. Latte, flat latte, cappucino, mocha whatever it is, do you want a double espresso? I repeated myself. The girl then went to get her mother, who turned out to be a girl who was in my year at school. She asked me if I would just like to make her one, an instant one. I said yes. I fancied a chip barm, Danny had a muffin. We went and sat down at one of the four tables. Friday's Daily Star and a Salford Advertiser were on the table. My chip barm arrived, they weren't fresh cut chips from fresh potatoes but they were lovely. The girl from my year brought over the salt, ketchup and the vinegar. She said they only had one vinegar pot in the place. She didn't bring me a fork, I didn't mind this, I ate the lot with my fingers. I looked to my right, out of the window and a girl wearing a tabard was standing  outside, talking on her mobile. A man seated at the table behind me shouted to her, "hey, have you come to see if you've left your knickers here".  The man then apologised to me and said they always teased her in Nettos. I later saw the same man (who, I think, was the owner), embracing this girl in the doorway. She complained that he was squashing her cigarettes. We can't wait to go back.

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The Chocolate Cafe, Ramsbottom, August 2011

Downstairs, a sparsely stocked shop selling assorted bars of fancy chocolate. Upstairs, the café. At the top of the stairs there was a large sign, which read “please wait here to be seated”. We waited. A waitress who was picking her fingers and looking away motioned with her head towards a table over the far side of the café. Assuming she was seating us, we went and sat at it. At the table to our right  a group of 6 young people. To our left, 2 couples who looked as though they were dressed for a wedding. The menu boasted of freshly made, locally sourced produce. I sensed that The Chocolate Café were very proud of their locally sourced produce. I wondered how local Goosnargh was to Ramsbottom. I saw a woman at a nearby table eating a sandwich made of sliced white, supermarket bread. We ordered a hot chocolate and an Americano Coffee.

The wedding party left, they hadn’t eaten or drank anything. As I cast my eyes around I observed that the majority of the customers, and there were many, were dining on coffee and cake. The slices of cakes looked as if they had been sourced from the local Cash & Carry. The wedding party’s table was quickly filled by a young family with their baby. One of the surly waiters scurried off for a high chair and on his return he accidentally poked Danny in the back with the high chair legs, causing Danny to lunge forward in shock. The young people next to us were presented with coffees in tall glasses and slices of the aforementioned, likely to be Cash & Carry, chocolate cake.

We waited 25 minutes for our drinks to be brought to us. My milk jug was chipped. My coffee was ok, average tasting. Danny’s hot chocolate was presented to him with the instruction that he should make sure he gives it a good stir. Danny said he wanted a sensation but what he got he said you wouldn’t kill your mother for.

We got up to leave. As  I approached the counter I asked for the bill; we were asked what table we had been on, handed a bill and instructed to pay at the counter downstairs. On our way down the stairs I suggested to Danny that we could leave without paying. No one would have noticed us leaving, there was a man on the till taking payments and he didn’t look up. As we took our place in the queue I was hoping the man on the till would ask us how everything was. I wanted to say that waiting 25 minutes for 2 drinks was unacceptable, I wanted to ask where the cakes had come from and who had made them.  I wanted to tell him that my coffee was tasteless. I wanted to ask whether or not the hot chocolate was made from water or milk. I wanted to tell him that his drinks were overpriced. Instead he didn’t look at me as I handed over  £6.10.

There was a menu card on our table which read “If you would prefer your food quicker there is a McDonalds in Bury town centre"

McDonalds would have been a million times better. The coffee is nicer there too and is only £1.19

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