Persians

Some years ago there used to be an operation in our Upper High Street called Casper's. An operation in three parts. A bed and breakfast establishment upstairs, possibly a bit of a left over from the days of commercial travellers and their suitcases (or carpet bags). Wine bar to the left, popular with lager drinking, single thirty somethings on Sunday afternoons. Restaurant to the right. The restaurant was rather good and was alleged by someone in the TB to be run as an occupation for the son-in-law, a Canadian cook, of the proprietor. There was also some connection which I cannot now compute with expensive bronzes of race horses. And an overflow for the restaurant in the basement which I remember as smelling a bit musty, rather like some old country church which spends most of its life locked up. We never used it.

A restaurant where they sold a very good Chateaubriand, dished up sliced but otherwise entire on an oval serving dish, complete with a brown sauce, decent wine and being allowed to smoke cigars at one's table afterwards. The place, in fact, where we first had a Chateaubriand, a Chateaubriand which has not been equalled since. They also had smart young waitresses, kept in order by an older head waitress.

The only real catch was the folding doors to the front of the restaurant which were the source of nasty draughts in the winter.

Casper's was replaced by a restaurant operated by some young people, possibly fresh out of cook school and possibly funded by rich daddy. They did not last very long. I think the place then stood empty for a bit while various people thought about it. Until fairly recently, when a Persian operation moved in, after renewing the folding doors, which we visited last weekend, not the one just past that is, today being Monday.

Quiet, but atmosphere good. It was a warm evening and it was nice to have the folding doors open to the street. Presentation good, including white linen napkins, which I like. Gavi good. Service a bit inexperienced. Our waitress, for example, seemed terribly worried that we did not want our wine to be kept cold in a bucket. But not at all worried about keeping the table wiped.

Hummus good, bread with it a little dry. BH liked her fish with rice. I was not so keen on my lamb with rice, the lamb coming in the form of thin slices rather than lumps off a skewer. Somehow the portion of lamb seemed a bit mean for the money. For dessert, BH took mint tea, which was fine. While I took baklava, which I found a bit chewy and very sweet.

Must be a serious gamble opening a place like this as an independent. Lot of money sunk into refurbishment and fitting, then a lot of money sunk into wages every week - although the owner may have mitigated this last one by making heavy use of his family. Then happy evenings spent poring over the till rolls. I associated to my hairdresser, now retired, who once told me that for many years he maintained a graph of his daily takings running all around his bedroom and he got to be quite an expert on the interaction between his takings and the world outside. All kinds of strange interactions which you would not think of up front. But not for me. Born employee!

Afterwards we called in Wetherspoon's - the Assembly Rooms - to try their monkey's shoulder. To get in, we had to run the gauntlet of a couple of security guards and a large computer display which was something to do with checking who we were should the guards be disposed to check, which fortunately they were not as we were not carrying any photo id, not even our senior travel passes. And while we were waiting to be served, we watched a barman making up large jugs of brightly coloured drinks for young people, drinks which he described as cocktails. But he seemed to think that it was better not to inquire too closely about what was going into them. All in all, a pleasant place for a mid evening digestif, despite feeling a little old.

PS: BH uses the dentist which can be reached through the passage which can be seen to the right of the tail end of the co-operative lorry left.

Reference 1: http://miniaturerestaurant.co.uk/.

Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.com/2014/12/chateaubriant.html. For a slightly different take on matters  Chateaubriand.