It was only while watching Jeremy Paxman on University Challenge last week (or so) that I realised what an injustice had been done by Jacques Brel’s translator in the sixties.
Mr Paxman was looking for the original composer of various songs which he played in translation.

First translation was of Jacques Brel’s: Tu me Quitte Pas.
Now I would translate this as something like “Don’t you dare leave me !”
The accepted English translation, accepted by such luminaries as Shirley Bassy and Scott Walker was an entirely emasculated ; ” If you go away, (on a summer’s day) ”

Pathetic.

Stay out of the Kitchen.

Gordon Ramsey always seem to me to me the epitome of everything I dislike in a chef.
The atmosphere of terror which he inspires in a kitchen, his shocking bullying of his staff but, most of all it is his numbing seriousness about food.
I havn’t seen much of his kitchen nightmares (truth to tell I have seen none but little snippits and trailers ) but have seen enough to feel my mind glaze over as he again displays his enormous ego and his total humour by-pass.
I am therefore enormously encouraged by a chef who I suspect to be a true genius- Heston Blumenthal- who holds in an article in todays London Times that a kitchen is “a mad -laugh or you will cry- environment which is perhaps why the people who work there often behave like comedians.”

Such was the attitude and demeanour of the staff in Dwyers Restaurant.
Someone was forever arriving with a bowl with a leek in it, or a plate with a chip on it,(think about it) or a chef wanting to bring a young waitress into the cold room to show them how the prawns glowed in the dark (they do)
When we get together we can still reduce each other to tears of laughter with stories of the disasters which nearly happened and the some which did.

My original training was in a most relaxed kitchen in Snaffles in Dublin , after that I spent some time working for a little bully in France, a chef so mean that he would only make his patisserie in the kitchen in the afternoons when I wasn’t there in case I might learn from him.

My next few years on training, in Kent, under Michael Waterfield in The Wife of Bath, were a revelation.
There I discovered that a kitchen run with patience and humour could in fact be more productive than one run by a ring master screaming hysterically.
I determined that Michael’s way was going to be my way.

Sometimes in Dwyers people would mutter begrudgingly to the waiters “You seem to be having a better time than us in the kitchen “- It is likely that we were.
On the other hand our parish priest, who was a bit of a gourmet, came to eat frequently and always commented on his pleasure on hearing occasional laughter from the kitchen; “You can taste the laughter in your food Martin” he once said to me.

Young Mr. Blumenthal obviously thinks the same.

Business is brisk here in le Presbyttere with the house full most of the time now.
It is salutary to remember how far we have come.
This photo was taken just about this time three years ago in what is now our kitchen when all we possessed in the line of furniture was two deck-chairs and a red clic-clac, (French for a sofa-bed ) which now seems to have opted for early retirement in the attic.

(This is how the same place looks today)

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I have been noticing that most of the fruits we are serving for breakfast at the moment, the apricots, melon and peaches not to mention the orange juice itself are orange coloured.
This goes particularly well with the white plates and the black table cloth.

I kinda lost the run of myself yesterday and decided to buy some orange table napkins to complete the match.
We have a Waterford man staying with us at the moment and he came to breakfast this morning and said;
“Aha ! I see you have the table set with the Kilkenny colours ”

Time for Blueberries and Whipped Cream I guess ( the colours of Waterford) to redress the situation.

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Trawling through the Internet for mentions of Le Presbytere I discovered that we are now rated in Trip Advisor !
Read it here

Under the heading of
“Charming house, friendly and with great food”

They have this to say about us :

“Charming restored presbytery with wonderful breakfast. We had evening dinner too– and what a dinner! Four superb courses with aperitifs and wine for €30 per head served on delightful terrace. Informal, friendly and very welcoming. It’s a little hard to find but it’s beautifully situated in a lovely village and well worth the effort. Highly recommended!”

AND
We are granted the lofty accolade of four stars.
YAY !

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It really is.
We now have had a procession of people staying for the last three weeks and another on their way for the next three so this life is rapidly changing and Le Presbytere is becoming a workplace.

Having had experience of a restaurant downstairs for many years this is not really a huge shock to our systems, what has taken us both by surprise is how much we are enjoying it.

We have divided up the tasks- more or less- into me doing the cooking and Sile the chambermaiding and waiting but what makes it completely different from running the restaurant is that once the meals are served we sit down with the guests and enjoy it with them.
This business of everyone eating together around a large table is when some sort of magic sets in.
No matter what the mix, and we have had all ages, all backgrounds,all nationalities, the conversation soon flows and people just start to enjoy each other.
I know that you will assume that this is alcohol fuelled but strangely this also happens at breakfast-time.
Sometimes it is difficult to get people to shift from the remains of their 9.00 coffee before 11.30- often with one or the other of us with them.

I have always held that civilization started when men started to hunt together and then had time to eat together at leisure.

The proof of that particular pudding is demonstrated daily on the terrace of Le Presbytere .

Yesterday morning whatever look I gave my bedside cabinet it looked directly back at me.
Two big liquid appealing brown eyes looking like either Munch’s The Scream or Spielbergs ET stared into my eyes.
Now I have been living with this particular piece of furniture for about ten years and this is the very first time I saw this
Wierd.

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Caitriona, Aonghus and Fionn are in holiday in San Francisco.
Aonghus’s brother Cian took this shot of them in Yosemite.
(This makes my grand-son way more travelled than me)