We have now officially opened our restaurant and have had our launch to the press. The sun shone last Saturday and despite my nerves they all seemed very happy, so we will await the reviews.
The garden at the back of the restaurant is now finished, complete with fountain, a huge array of terracotta pots that we brought back from Italy and herbs everywhere. The wood burning oven despite annoying our neighbour has worked perfectly and was much needed on the day of the launch as our gas oven inside broke down so everything was cooked outside.
The jazz band were great, it was Sam’s band. Sam and Jackie were knocked out of the show The Restaurant in week two. We met them and decided his jazz was better than his restaurant running and we invited them to play.
Off to London now to the businesses there, Marylebone is still a great place to be but I am more than content to come back to peaceful Bray in the evenings.
I cannot believe the moment has arrived when almost everything seems to be in place. The till arrives today and I can make that final tick on my list of missing items. That glorious moment that obsesses us list-makers, that goal to which we all aspire.
To celebrate the end of the list we have invited 14 tables of press. What will they be like, will they like our restaurant, our food, the candles in the loo and me - what if they hate my hair! I hate my hair. Not that I am paranoid but its a strange feeling to have created something you love and then invite a load of strangers in to criticize it (I really wish this blog did spellcheck - could it be critisize!).
Right, children to school, ice pack on Giancarlo’s foot (strange swelling occurring at such a vital moment - was not on my list), flowers to buy and then we are ready.
Fingers crossed for tomorrow!
We finally received our signs yesterday so we are open now to those intrepid customers who feel like being some of the first. As yet no till has arrived, sadly that doesn’t mean your food is free but that you get a beautiful hand written bill by the lovely Jess or Salvatore.
Apart from the till and the pictures that are still waiting to be hung I think we are almost there and actually it looks jolly nice even if I say so myself. Gregorio’s food is lovely as my rapidly dissapearing waistline will tell you.
Kirsty from Schemes Interior Design company and I had a great time choosing all the lovely fabrics, papers and chairs and the whole look is modern rustic. At least that is what we keep telling ourselves. Modern rustic. You will have to tell me what you think. I could go on tweaking with objects etc forever but I have to stop. And I never need an excuse to go shopping for more ornaments, glassware etc to decorate the restaurant.
Now all we need is you, we have the space, the log fires, the music and the food and wine. But for atmosphere you need people, so give us a few days (Giancarlo and I and the children are off to Abergavenny food festival this weekend) and come and try us out.
So we have no till, no internet connection and no telephone. Who needs these modern inventions - we have a beautiful place tucked away in Old Mill Lane in Bray. A road buzzing with activity - yesterday two horses went by and oh at least twenty cars and about five joggers. Mmm, I suppose that is why we need our methods of communication.
The locals are a curious and friendly bunch. Not like our Marylebone crowd, not that they are not friendly, just more transient, less familiar with us and with each other. But in Bray it is a real village not a pretend one like Marylebone. So far so good, everyone has been really helpful, informing us of local areas that are good for our business, getting us local log supplies and hopefully finding us some staff. Oh yes that is the other thing missing, staff.
Still we plough on, (note the use of “country expressions”), the kids went back to school yesterday in Gerrards Cross, we went to work in Bray and then back to to bed in Baker Street. Soon we will move to Bray, commute to London to work and do a long school run. Logistical madness but we will cope. Must go and force children into school uniform. The idea of a new school is not going down too well.
