Truly. Honestly. Without a doubt. It was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life. When I finally registered the two horses, I nearly choked on my house red.
Ok. We are not made of money and had spent most of it on the hotel. The Crowne Plaza, Liverpool, provided a brief window of luxury on our weekend break away from the routine and humdrum of our lives. Although we should have taken our own advice and never eaten in the hotel restaurant, we were fleeced on the first night, paying way, way over the odds for a half-decent meal because we arrived tired after a five hour journey, were hungry, didn’t know the city, and allowed ourselves to be bamboozled by a very efficient receptionist.
But it wasn’t going to happen on the second night. Oh no! We set out relatively early in search of reasonably priced food. The first place that was a possibility was a pub in a good location, but there had been a football match that day, the bar was full of red shirts and stank of sweat. The next two possibilities were very expensive and things were getting desperate (we were getting hungry) by the time we discovered the fourth - a pleasant restaurant on the Salthouse Dock with an inviting atmosphere and attractive, reasonably priced fare. We went inside and obediently stood at the sign waiting to be seated.
“A table for two?” The restaurant was half-full and there seemed to be plenty of space.
“We are not taking any new customers tonight sir. There is a problem in the kitchen.” We obviously looked crest-fallen. ”But there is another restaurant just over there. I’m sure they will be able to help you.”
And so we left one eating place, walked a few yards along the docks, and entered Circo.
The lights were dim and the decor red making everything appear darker than it was. The music noise was jolly and loud. There was a good crowd, but still plenty of seats. After we had shouted our request for a table for two we were seated in what looked like a large fairground ride - large fixed bench seats across a big table. My wife disappeared into the darkness and kept reappearing as we sat forward and strained to communicate across the large table and din.
As we waited for the starters, and as the large glasses of house red began to hit the empty stomachs, we were able to relax a bit and take in what had happened. There were clown faces everywhere, posters of circus acts, saftey nets dangling from the ceilings, thick ropes, strange lighting, and candelabras on each table precariously close to the black see-through curtains that looked as if they had been taken from the set of the Munsters or a cheap, surplus lingerie store. It was the kind of place we wouldn’t normally be seen dead in, unless we were dead and had no option. I remember thinking, “The food had better be good!”
I honestly didn’t notice them at first. Honestly. I think I was too shocked by the whole traumatic experience to be able to take everything in at once. I mean, I don’t normally go into a restaurant expecting to see scantily clad women and horses. There were two of them - life-size black plastic horses standing by the bar. I nearly spilled my wine when I first saw them. What on earth they were doing I have no idea. I suppose they were an attempt to fit the circus theme. The same was true of the Maitress Di pretending to be a Ring Mistress. She was wearing red hotpants, black fishnets, a top hat, and a cut away coat to make sure we could all see her fine assets.
And then the food came. And it was wonderful. Whatever was happening front of house, the chef knew his or her trade. We both had a perfectly seasoned, imaginative, moist, and very tasty three courses. Even with wine and coffee we still paid half what we had paid at the hotel on the previous evening.
Despite being distracted by the deliciousness of the meal (and other previously mentioned factors), we couldn’t help but notice more strange happenings. It was a Saturday night. Couples kept coming through the door and virtually all of them were turned away after we had been seated. Yet it was only mid-evening, and about a quarter of the restaurant was still empty. The staff were friendly enough, but clearly had a strange policy of not exploiting the restaurant’s resources. It began to feel as if the food was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and instead of leading you there, the restaurant had been purposefully designed to present obstacles to keep you from reaching or enjoying your goal.
Would we go back again? Yes. And we did, the next night. The food was compellingly good, and so reasonably priced. We decided we could put up with a lot in order to have a good meal that didn’t bankrupt us. The kitchen was clearly the place’s major asset. If this restaurant was surviving, even making money with its present decor and front of house operation, one couldn’t help but think that someone like Gordon Ramsay, or anyone with half a sense for customer care and experience could turn it into a gold mine.
Circuses are dieing throughout the world. This one needs to be reinvented too.
he, he… what a great article. Truly, worthy of a newspaper or magazine.
I laughed out loud when on the part when you saw the horses and spoke of the woman in hot pants.
Good food should always be applauded.
There are far too many mediocre eating places in the UK.
Should we - the customers - take more reponsibility for this? How many awful meals have we eaten in a lifetime, paid up and said nothing?
With belts tightening we will have more power to chose more carefully and say something if it does not meed expectations or even fulfill the description in the menu. In reality how many customers actually make a fuss? And is that partly to do with being time poor? We have no time to cook so we go out and it is way below expectations but we eat it anyway?
Really good food requires excellent ingredients. The best chefs know the provenance of what they are cooking. British farmers and growers create some of the best food in the world. Find a restaurant that sources locally and cooks from scratch, there are far too many eating houses that just take a ready meal from a freezer and heat it. We can all do that at home, when we go out it should be for food as good as we get at home or better, not worse.
I think with food costs rocketing meals out will become rarer and food preparation at home will become more important. Thank goodness cooking is being brought back into schools, we have lost a whole generation of cooking skills.
http://arcadianadvocate.wordpress.com
it sounds rather wonderful. I am a little wary of horses but I suppose I could wear blinkers if I went.
I did wonder when I was reading if something was going to happen - whether car keys might be passed around or something and whether the person on the door was deciding only to let those in who seemed suitable or whatever. Relieved that you were not both ushered into some back room by the Lady in Hotpants halfway through your meal.
Reluctant Blogger
Relieved that you were not both ushered into some back room by the Lady in Hotpants halfway through your meal. Relieved? I was disappointed
I had a laugh when I read this line from arcadianadvocate
There are far too many mediocre eating places in the UK.
You guys familiar with this joke?
Heaven vrs. Hell
Heaven:
* The police are British
* The cooks are French
* The engineers are German
* The administrators are Swiss
* The lovers are Italian
Hell:
* The police are German
* The cooks are British
* The engineers are Italian
* The administrators are French
* The lovers are Swiss
Thanks Lorena. That does feel really hellish indeed.
Boy, what an experience!
As I was reading I too was expecting something to happen, the show to start, the horses to become real, so the blog for me petied out a little at the end, though you can’t invent something that never happened, even in this story.
A great blog. I was living this. Conjured up images as to what this set could look like. I saw both of you, straining to hear each other and as for the women, I have a good image of her too. I bet her hotpants were satin or silk and she had a good figure.
Somehow, I wonder if the food linked well to the theme, this sounds perhaps not the case but excellent never the less.
Know what you mean about getting caught out with the hotel food. We had this experience two yrs ago when we stayed in London at the Hilton. (Curtousy of Tesco vouchers). We also were too tired to trek for food and paid a lot for a meal for three of us. Suprised why should struggle with finding a decent restaurant though? You have a iphone and should get the data in seconds with maps. Also, it is advisable to research pubs and restaurants on-line before you go. I often do this, so we have an idea where we are heading, especially in a big city.
Having said that this was a golden find, so perhaps it was as well you did not do either.
I now want to go and see for myself.
One last comment, I love the photos of the place. Now I really want to be there. I could write a comparrison blog.
onethoughtfulwoman
You wrote: I bet her hotpants were satin or silk and she had a good figure.
I’m straining to remember the detail. Now let me think …
@ Lorena - great joke!
I like oddball places and this sounds oddball indeed. I must look out for it next time we get sent to Liverpool.
You have to give them points for imagination and the spirit to carry it through. This is a vanishing talent in our increasingly over-regulated and conventionalized world.