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“Would you mind sitting at the end here?” a somewhat bold waitress inquired as she directed me to a table already occupied by other diners.
What was supposed to be a solitary lunch at Cowdray Park café in West Sussex quickly turned into a shared dining experience. The group at the table seemed less than pleased about the prospect of sharing their space—and condiments—with a stranger.
The reasoning behind this arrangement seemed clear: why bother clearing other tables when you can simply merge customers? This lack of attention extended throughout the meal, marked by delays and mishaps, including a steak entrée inexplicably lacking its accompanying chips, all while the background noise of a child’s iPad added to the chaos.
Welcome to the dispiriting landscape of British hospitality, where scant portions, questionable value, and lackluster service can leave diners feeling more exploited than satisfied, with a lingering sense of disappointment.
Meanwhile, multimillionaire celebrity chefs, who serve £175-per-head pub roasts, often cite challenges like food inflation, surging energy costs, and rising VAT as reasons for a sector in distress.
And yes, times are tough with three hospitality venues closing daily in the first quarter this year according to figures from market intelligence firm, NIQ.
Yet the sob stories can still wear a little thin when so many establishments treat those that frequent them with woeful complacency.
It plays out where I live in West Sussex in the South Downs. This rural idyll has become a mecca for the deep-pocketed, second homeowners down from London saturated with dog-friendly coffee shops and posh pubs.
Caroline Bullock (pictured) said: ‘The soul-crushing reality of British hospitality is meagre portions, poor value and service that can leave you feeling more fleeced than sated, with a very bitter after taste’
It perhaps explains how I found myself ignored and menu-less the other week trying to catch the attention of the café owner as she lavished attention on a nonplussed dachshund.
When my Turkish eggs brunch finally arrived, the dish was a pale imitation of the one I had eaten there a fortnight previously. The two poached eggs had been replaced with one fried egg and I was missing the feta cheese despite being charged more for the privilege.
Ok, so the sector has always lived or died by the very smallest margins but we’re talking about cheap store cupboard ingredients and the kind of petty penny-pinching that insults customer intelligence.
Unfortunately, the meanness is endemic. Struggling to find a light bite under £20 at an elegant hotel in the same town, I ordered soup that arrived in a teeny ramekin only for the waiter to ‘check with the chef’ when I asked if there was a bread roll.
Five spoonfuls and the soup was gone by the time the bread roll – which was the size of a small dough ball – came.
‘The soup doesn’t usually come with anything else, but we won’t charge you extra on this occasion,’ informed the waiter gravely.
I thought we were in the midst of a cost-of-living crisis, not war rationing.
And what about pubs – so often lauded as the cohesive glue that binds a community together, but with increasingly prohibitive prices, they are now playing to a very select crowd.
‘The Swan Inn, in Fittleworth, usually with an Aston Martin outside, where a woman once asked for her mozzarella and salami focaccia to be “deconstructed”,’ writes Caroline
The White Horse near Chichester, where, Caroline claims, ‘steak options span £42 to a £95 Chateaubriand, an offer that includes one sauce and one side – yes, if you want both vegetables and chips it will be extra…’
Take the White Horse near Chichester where steak options span £42 to a £95 Chateaubriand, an offer that includes one sauce and one side – yes, if you want both vegetables and chips it will be extra…
And there’s my own local, The Swan Inn, in Fittleworth, usually with an Aston Martin outside, where a woman once asked for her mozzarella and salami focaccia to be ‘deconstructed’.
Even in these kinds of places with premium prices and pretensions, the service can often fall short – from having to fetch your own cutlery and condiments to staff who would rather be elsewhere.
The sector may be at the mercy of geopolitical tensions, but it does have some control over recruitment and training.
So, what about ensuring staff force a smile and a bit of small talk as customers settle their three-figure lunch bills now complete with an obligatory 10 per cent service charge? It’s not asking the world.
The Halfway Bridge near Petworth is a case in point – adding a 12 per cent service charge on top of already inflated prices.
The last and final time I lunched here I was treated to distant running commentary from the bar team debating whose turn it was to check if my meal was ok.
The girl who drew the short straw came over and asked me mechanically before reporting back to the others.
‘A pub called the Squire and Horse in the village of Bury, West Sussex is a welcome antidote – a reminder that great food and value is still possible,’ said Caroline
Later on, I listened as a newbie got a tutorial on coffee making – yes, nice to know the making of my £4 flat white doubled up as a training exercise (and yes, the warm frothy milkshake was sent back).
Add to the mix the places that have no qualms about making it clear when you’ve outstayed your welcome.
I’ve lost count of the occasions recently when intrusive and protracted clear-up operations – chair stacking and floor sweeping – has started long before closing time – from those with an eye on an early finish unconcerned it’s spoiling people’s enjoyment.
Not to mention a recent evening at a pub where I was told I couldn’t order a dessert (at 8pm) because the kitchen had now closed – a detail that no one had thought to share beforehand.
Fortunately, the situation isn’t entirely bleak. A pub called the Squire and Horse in the village of Bury, West Sussex, is a welcome antidote – a reminder that great food and value is still possible.
Here, with no automatic service charge, attentive staff and a perfect roast that doesn’t require a second mortgage, their efforts are rewarded with packed premises through the week.
It’s proof that even in straitened times, that elusive formula that respects the customer and doesn’t compromise on value can be found. Sadly, though, it’s just too rare.