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Steakhouse Night

Ghosts, light humour and serious beliefs, item 34

The Bistro was the most popular restaurant in town and the food was always great, but for some reason it always tasted better on Wednesdays.

Back in the late 1970s The Bistro was part of a much bigger Bernie Inn, the steak house chain. In those days marathon running was only for a few dedicated souls and one such soul worked as a chef on Wednesday evenings and as sometimes happens the fit die young, usually as a result of heart attack during or after a strenuous period of exercise.

In the present, table 6 had two couples, a butcher and his wife and a fishmonger and her husband, both suppliers to the restaurant. The fishmonger, really impressed by the steak jokingly suggested that it must have come from someone other than the butcher, embarrassed silence followed as it turns out that the butcher indeed hadn’t supplied that piece of meat.

Trying to recover the situation the fishmonger admitted that he didn’t supply the scampi either.

Next week back at the same table, the fish monger mentioned that the fruit and veg man doesn’t come on a Wednesday nor does the baker.

Being regulars they chat to the owner, Steven, and mention that no-one seems to supply him on a Wednesday. The owner smiles and says that as Wednesdays are the chef’s night-off things are done differently. Noticing that the question hasn’t been answered but not wanting to ruin their business relationship the conversation moves on.

The other owner, Sandra, pop’s out of the kitchen to ask how things are going and they are going great. If you have ever eaten a fish immediately after it has been caught you will know what I mean about it tasting “light” and “clean”. The food this Wednesday tasted like that but only more so.

Suspecting that the regular chef wasn’t as good a cook as the owner nobody wanted to comment on this so they merely said that the food was excellent as always.

So “everybody” would be surprised to see the mess and burnt pans in the private kitchen where Sandra continually fails at all cooking tasks including this morning’s breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs.

“Everybody” also wonders why the washer up is given Wednesdays off, in fact all of the staff have Wednesday off leaving just the two owners to run the place.

Oh, did I forget to mention that Wednesday was Retro Night, Prawn Cocktail followed by either Scampi and Chips or Steak and Chips and Black Forrest Gateau for dessert?

Or that it has always been assumed that the beer pump that says Watney’s Red Barrel is a bit of a joke and the actual beer is something else? There is an older gentleman who insists that it tastes like the real thing, but everyone just smiles at him, and despite its reputation it is always sold out by start of business Thursday. Which is quite odd as nobody seems to drink it.

Ghost, Spiritual Or Historic Stories For Pubs And Restaurants