"Two posts in one night...he must be ill"

posted by Toad on Mon 23rd Oct, 06 at 02:45:16

...no your eye's are not deceiving you this is a second post...I forgot to tell you readers about something, something so shocking and horrifying that I am almost too afraid to tell...but I must, for keeping this a secret would be too damaging to the outside world for it not to be revealed...

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I have eaten a bad meal at Cafe Davide's!

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Let me tell you another tale, yesterday, well by my body clock yesterday, Saturday 21st October, Heidi, Myself, her sister Wendy (no, not the nun) and her Dad went to Cafe Davide in Trentham, a sort of "week-late family birthday meal" thang. We chose the Trentham Cafe Davide, it's new, Heid and I have partaken of some lunches/coffee's there during random walks around the lake and shopping expediations recently much to our general satisfaction, and of course the reputation of Getliffe's Yard is second to none as most of you readers will be aware. Anyway, upon viewing the menu I chose a delicious looking , "procuittio ham, buffallo mozzeralla & vine tomato salad" to start, followed by, of course, a Davide steak. The salad arrived, after what seemed an awfully long wait (and considering the restaurant wasn't busy...on a Saturday not busy?...) and I must admit to being a little disappointed...it's alright, the steak, think of the steak...but I suppose, just like Ronseal the food did exactly what it said on the tin...there was a plate of bits of buffallo, covered in parts by the ham...it's alright, the steak, think of the steak...and what can only be described as no better than an ordinary tomato cut up into 8 pieces...it's alright, the steak, think of the steak...There was more joy with the accompanying green stuff in a light pesto sauce, but that only helped to cut through the blandness of the dish...it's alright, the steak, think of the steak...

Never fear, the steak will soon be here. Heid and Sister Wendy had both also choose the steak, not a fillet mind as the only fillet on the menu had liver pate with it(note to chefs the world over...never posion a good steak with liver! None of this Chateaux Briande for me!) Her father opted for the Duck special (I won't mention about his meal, but needless to say his duck wasn't very ducky). In the absence of fillet we had the only alternative, an entrecote. Now this is wherein the problem lies, I know an entrecote steak is not the finest cut of beef you can expect, but we did order three ways of it being cooked, medium for me (a little blood goes a long way in my book, adds flavour, makes the meat tender and melt in your mouth), my nearest and dearest asked for it well done, and the nun asked for it to be given the last rites then for it to be cremated and the ashes scattered around the mushrooms, tomato(another blooming tomato!) and sauce on her plate. Now when the steaks came the presentation was good, all be it not Getliffe's good, and the vegetables that came with it were ok (no fancy tapa's choice like Getliffe), but not very plentiful for a farmer, his two daughters and a hungry bear called Toad. Never mind, I thought at least I've got my Cafe Davide steak to eat, we'll put the tomato starter ordeal behind us...

 ...my fork peirced the flesh of my beautifully medium cooked steak, a little juice teasingly flowed out of the holes as the fork sunk deeper. I placed my knife blade in contact with the flesh, and began to cut my first mouth watering peice...

...and cut...

...and cut...

...and cut...

...and this was the problem, cut as I might the thing would slice. Eventually, with a Braveheart-esque cry my first bit of beef yelled Freedom from its larger beef mass behind. Surely it can't taste bad, it's a Davide's steak after all, "Bad" is not in their vocabulary..."bad" no, "tough" yes. I've chewed on socks more tender than this thing, no panic this was a one off...entrecote's are a little rougher, surely this must be due to it being an edge piece (I've never used that excuse for a steak before, but this was a Davide's steak, a reason must be explained), but no, it was tough, and more shockingly a piece of fat or something stuck in my back teeth...and wouldn't budge. Surely this was just my steak, but no, the sun-bed version of my other halve's was just as bad, and the ashes scattered around the nun's plate was attrocious...I've never seen a nun spit food out before but after 10mins trying to break down a peice of this steak into a swallowable chunk in her mouth even the good Sister had to relent.

 ...and this my friend is where a love affair comes to an end, I could go on about the not very exciting pudding, the exorbintant bill, the incredibly slow service in a quiet restaurant but I won't. Because this is not a tale of bitchiness or rantfullness, just a little story of how somethings are best left as they are, a quiet little Tapas in a pleasant street in Leek. My only saving grace is that the lovely owners Mike and Gayner weren't there it witness what was brought out, I doubt I could have said anything to them, and like the typical brit I didn't kick up a fuss whilst I was there, I would have done had the manager come to our table more, rather than sit chatting to a couple fo friends at a table for most of the night, I'd have complained to him, but not to the sole waitress, who unbeknownst to us at time of booking was an old friend of the nun's, and I was made to take of vow of silence by the nun about the beef for feel of embarrassing her old castilian buddy.

I'd write and complain retrospect, but it's Cafe Davide, I love the place, Getliffe's Yard is the best, and the Trentham one is good for lunch (I recommend the Chicken Ceaser Salad), and coffee & cakes. If and when I ever go back to this place I will try to forget the other night, but I think it will be a while, trust in food is a hard thing to establish, but an easy thing the break, and where once I would not hesitate to say, a davides steak is a steak eater's best friend, now, I'm not so sure.

And so this tale comes to its conclusion, sorry to depress you, but it's a tale that had to be told - myths are forged, legends written, but sometimes even the greatest of stories comes to an end.

 Good Night

A Teacher's Life for me!

posted by Toad on Mon 23rd Oct, 06 at 02:04:44

...a second posting, who'd have thought it'd come to this! Anyway, thought it best time to write something else in my blog. It's half term now for us teachers, you know it really is a hard life, 8 weeks work then a forced break, got to hate these forced holidays, just when you've had one they make you take another!

Right news on my part...

1) I'm off to London for a few days this week, taking in the sights, but more importantly going to see Little Britain Live, managed to wrangle a few tickets for mine and heid's birthdays, although I think Heid is looking forward to the sight of a butt naked David Walliams with too much excitement.

2) I'm buying a house (touch wood it's not going to fall down this time!). A nice little semi near Newcastle, Basford. Langley Street to be precise. It's a simple 2up-2down, needs a bit of modernising, but the guy I'm hopefully buying it off has made 10K in two years doing nowt to it, so with a bit of work (new kitchen, splash of paint etc...) it should do ok. I'm really looking forward to it, been itching to get a place, and the prospect of having a new kitchen, all to myself is awesome. 

 3) My loving brother has stolen my house warming present for himself! Let me tell you a story, 6 months ago when I was on the verge of buying a house in Stone my RAF brother knew a guy selling a really good washing machine for £25(due to new kitchen). He bought it planning to give it as a housewarming present. Well the house fell down so I never needed the washing machine, he's kept it in storage till I could find another property. Now less then a month till I hopefully complete on my house his has broken and he's nicked mine! I mean the cheek of it, my own brother!

Anyway, I'll leave you on that note, with another riddle:

 "What word begins with a 'h', ends with a 'n', and has six letters, and contains eight words besides itself without transposing a single letter"

The Rythmn of Life...

posted by Toad on Wed 16th Aug, 06 at 14:38:09

...welcome to the primordial soup of a ramblings that is my first blog. Let me introduce myself, my name is Toad (or as my current passport keeps telling me it's Simon Curzon). Why I'm called Toad, well I won't reveal that just yet, we've only just met and I like to get to know someone before I show, ermm, tell them, yes that's not so scary, before I tell them the reason behind it.

Anyway, to cut a long ramble down to a short walk to the bottom of the garden I'm going to have to go, mainly because I'm currently about to reach 92% in a level2 emergency situation so best go(the one they call Req will understand - probably best you don't pry), so I must go. Stay tuned for more blogage, when

a) I have something interesting to say

b) I have something interesting to say and remember to blog it.

c) I just rant something random for the sake of it.

Oh...I wouldn't hold you're breath for too long....

...not that it implies I won't write again soon...just that in general in life, holding your breath for too long tends to cause bad things to happen, although I did read that you can't kill yourself by holding your breath...I learnt that at the same time that I found out that all polar bears are left handed...tis true.

And now I really must go (98.5% and rising), but I will leave you with this ridden...

From the beginning of eternity
To the end of time and space
To the beginning of every end
And the end of every place.
What am I?

Happy hunting.

Toad