My Petite Diner

I have always been fascinated by the art of cooking, though largely self taught. From an early age it was impressed upon me the subtleties and nuances of flavour, and how cooking without the love for it can only become a struggle.

Like the poet seeks approval for his verse do I seek the satisfied nods of my diners, for without that all is wasted. I seek no payment other than a rosy cheek beaming at me from behind an empty plate.

I have in my time been employed in several positions and have fell foul of my employer more than once, so when at last I had scraped together enough funds for my petite diner I became drunk with emotion, and fired with ambition. I set about putting things right immediately and plastered its walls lovingly late into the night, I had the electrics and gas supply checked and certified, and I polished the surfaces until they shone with pride.

I spent many days formulating my menus, only ever using produce that was local and in season. I was fortunate in that to the rear of my project was a small garden which I decided would be devoted to herbs. I slavishly turned the soil and aired it over and over until it was perfect, my lines of coriander, mint and basil stood like a company of troops, ready for inspection. I even erected a small greenhouse for my home grown tomatoes so they would thrive and be succulent on the palate.

I have to admit here, that my darling Erica helped in my herb garden, she has such green fingers and a love for plants that I could not better her skills. She made me proud with her efforts and even offered to help around the kitchen when I was short handed. What can I say? I love her dearly.

After much thought, I decided that the only direction my diner should go was simple home cooking, but cooked and served with genuine love and with the emphasis on taste above all else. To this end I planned to produce my own bread baked fresh each day, three different types of stew and home made ice cream.

Oh I cannot tell of the joys my days at the stoves

brought me as my kitchen filled with the heat and smells that stoked my heart. At one side I mixed stocks that gently simmered as they reduced, all the while tasting and adding seasoning were I saw fit. The smell and atmosphere of my efforts wafted through open windows causing many a passing local to pause and savour it as they licked their lips. I sang as I prepared my dough, the delighted face of Erica beaming at me through the cloud of flour as I kneaded it.

I was a man in love with his environment and to see my days efforts stored neatly in the fridges at the end of the day calmed my spirit as I surveyed the heaven that was my life.

At last the day arrived when I could declare my Petite Diner open for guests and what a glorious day it was. The sun smiled favourably upon my endeavours and graced me with my first guest. I poured him a glass of Chablis and handed him my menu as he smiled into it. He took just a moment before smiling and ordering my Specialty Beef Stew - I flew into the kitchen with my heart bursting with joy and prepared him my handiwork.

After he had finished he sat behind a clean bowl and gave a heart burp which to a man such as I was a symphony of gratitude. Not only had he emptied his bowl of food, but he had cleaned the last of the sauce with his bread, to a Chef such as I it was a sure sign that I was on the right track. He stood up and I followed him outside thanking him for his custom.

We sat together in the afternoon haze and I prompted him gently for his opinions, I was eager to hear his thoughts, so I asked him was it to his satisfaction. He sipped from his glass of wine and winked toward me and I instinctively knew I had graced his palate. We talked a while and he promised to return with his wife at a later date.

A wave of immense joy washed over me as I returned to my kitchen to clear up his table and finish the washing. I cannot say of the emotional satisfaction that follows from the heat of a kitchen to the gratitude of my diners after a day's work, it is simply the most fulfilling thing one can experience.

From these simple beginnings did my Petite Diner begin to grow, with just four tables in my small dining room to, as it stands today, some four years later. We have trebled in size and employed a young Commie Chef who is eager to learn and keen to better himself. My wife, Erica gave me a beautiful daughter, who we named Emma after her grandmother, and she is our pride and joy.

My life has been truly blessed thanks to my lovely (and ever patient), Erica, and my fateful decision to cook for a living. The addition of Emma has been the icing on my cake of happiness. I can look out at my diners as they enjoy the fruits of my work and I can say with my hand on my heart, I am blessed.

Would I advise you to follow your heart? Why of course, there is no other way for your life to proceed other than that. If there is some dream you have, and you do not follow it then you will for sure regret it. Now then, I have to leave you dear friends, I have stocks to prepare, meat to trim, and herbs to tend, follow you dreams.

Maybe if you are in the area you should pop by for some good home cooking, some fine wine, and good company, see, I have a table reserved, just for you.