"My journey into the fascinating world of hospitality starting at Ballymaloe"

I remember leaving school in the late 80’s and wondering what to do with my life. I had worked in the UK as a barman in a small hotel and my main responsibility was to look after the bar which I took great pride in. All glasses where polished at the end of each shift. The wooden casks had to be tapped and I had to make sure every few weeks that the beer lines where cleaned. Along with my other duties I worked in all the other departments of the hotel. I had an inkling in school that I would like to work in television and radio. I left the hotel and came back to Ireland where my journey began.

My father had got me an interview in the Newpark Hotel in Kilkenny. I must confess sorry dad; I think it was is your secretary who arranged everything. I met with the general manager Mr Sullivan a well to do gentleman. They had in the hotel a Hospitality School which my father thought sounded interesting. The interview was going well so I thought and Mr Sullivan had noticed how beautifully turned out I was with the suit and the highly polished black shoes. Your parents bought them he said. Yes, was the reply. Now you will notice Lady’s and Gentleman that I was going for a job in hospitality? I was been grilled as to why they would take me into the hotel as a hospitality graduate and what was so special about me.

Towards the end of the interview Mr Sullivan asked me one question. Where do you see yourself in 5 years’ time? Oh, I was so proud, I new the answer. I replied I would like to work for the BBC in London. You do realise that this a hotel job that you are applying for not a television studio. Did I get the job, well you can use your own imagination on that one?

My father who had studied in Ballymaloe new Darina quiet well and having gone to the local school in Waterford with all of her children it was considered the done thing that we would all go to Ballymaloe as students when we finished school. This is where my love affair with hospitality really started.

I remember driving down the road through the narrow lanes ways to get to the school which was in the middle of the countryside. I didn’t drive then so my chauffeur drove me. I for my sins lived in the Pink House which was fascinating, like little cottages. They were just idyllic.

One morning we all woke up late only by five minutes my I hasten to add. We had all been out the night before as you do and we were a little worse for wear. We all decided that we wouldn’t go to school. Do you think that worried Darina? not a chance, she just walked in to our bedrooms, not even the thought of knocking. We could have been half naked for all I care but oh no this was Darina. School has started children. We all rolled out of bed like a flash of lighting I can tell you. Our punishment that day was that we had to feed the chickens all the left-over food. Hum how amusing.

Every morning we would start school at 9am and would cook our menu which we had discussed the night before. Darina, I remember was very fussy and our menus which had to be completed by 12 midday when the restaurant was open for lunch. They generally never were and Darina would say I am going to another restaurant down the road as we were not up to her standard. That was quiet often I’m afraid. We had to change pretty quickly if we wanted to become successful. We would work in pairs and decide upon our duties as to who was cooking what. At the end of the session the teachers would come round and mark your food out of 10. It was really daunting because you never knew what they were going to say.

Lunch was an experience with a difference. We sat on round tables overlooking the wonderful homemade gardens with the sun shining in. It gave all the students an opportunity to taste each others food and talk about what we had learnt. Sitting beside Darina one day she happened to notice this lovely orange mousse served with flaked homemade chocolate crack. She explained to the table that marks out of 10 it was 11. Who ever made this desert could certainly cook? Everybody was intrigued to find out who the chef was.

I was dying to tell them but without sounding cocky. I said look it was me to the amazement of everybody at the table. How did you do it said one student looking through the side of her glasses which where steamed up. I could tell she was jealous. I wish it had been me she murmured. I said with my softly spoken English. It’s called the midlist touch.

We had just finished making homemade marmalade one day and as usual the teachers would come round to taste and mark your food. One of the students on the course apologized that his marmalade was setting and could not be tasted and the reply was priceless. There is plenty on the floor where that came from. He was some messy chef, but he could defiantly cook.

It was about one month into the course and three of us where sick. It was decided that we would visit the local GP in Middleton. As I didn’t drive one of the girls who did agreed that she would take us. We entered the GP and gave our names and waited to be seen. We went in one by one gave our symptoms and waited for our prescription and on the way out and we would settle our bill except for me who was the clever one. You see everybody who visits a GP would naturally pay their bill on leaving. I told the GP that my father was a doctor which was true. Oh, said the GP to you it is complementary. Good day Sir I replied and thank you. I was delighted. On the way back to the school everybody was discussing how expensive the GP was. I replied I don’t know what you all mean. I thought he was very responsibly priced. How much did you pay said my fellow student? Oh nothing. How come? I just told the GP that my father was a doctor. They were not amused. When we returned to school, I relayed the story to all of my fellow students to a rapturous applause.

In the afternoon we would be given a demonstration of the food that we had to cook for the next day weather it be Rory, Darina or one of her team giving the demo. Sometimes the demonstration would not always go according to plan. If something was ever slight burnt it was always considered slightly caramelised. How wonderfully put. Darina one day had a plucked chicken for the afternoons demonstration but it didn’t go exactly according to how she would like. The chicken arrived into the demonstration theatre with its head on to the shock horror of the little girl sitting in the front row. Darina apologised and she disappeared with the chicken, chopped it head off for all to hear and returned to the amusement of her students. At the end of each demonstration you would be given the food to take back to your accommodation to try. So, you knew exactly how it was supposed to taste. You also had to cost out your menu working alongside one of your fellow students. This was done sitting around a fire with a glass of wine in tow.

From time to time you would have to opportunity to work in Ballymaloe House which would give you a sense of what it was like to work in a real kitchen. Myrtle behind you saying that’s not how to chop lettuce, but you know that’s how we learnt. We all use to sit down just before service to eat. Amazingly there was no staff room. Excuse me, we were brought into a posh dining room with a proper dining table where all the family would eat. What an honour.

Not long came the day of our final exam when we had to decide on our 3-course menu to be presented to our tutors for submission and explain our thinking behind our ideas. There were three parts to are final exam. A theory paper on the art of cooking along with a paper on wine and also a practical demonstration which also included looking at a selection of meat and fish and describing the name of each one in detail. I remember choosing a rosette of smoked salmon with a cucumber and dill dressing followed by roast duck served with braised red cabbage and dauphinoise potatoes and a port and orange sauce. Desert consisted of orange mousse served with flaked homemade chocolate crack.

On our final night we were all given a treat, dinner at Ballymaloe House. We all dressed up and headed over to Ballymaloe House which was only down the road. On arrival we were greeted by Myrtle and her amazing team. Wow this was fantastic we had finally reached the pinnacle of the course. Champagne to start if my memory is correct. We danced away in to the early hours and headed home just before dawn. The next day well all packed our bags and said goodbye before leaving. The tears rolling down my eyes looking for the empty swimming pool to capture those memories of an era gone by.

My next article takes you on a journey working in the real world as a chef. Cooking for actual paying customers. What a fascinating experience that I can’t wait to share. It will be mouth-watering I can assure you and a few stories to tell. If you like what you have read so far leave a comment or a like in the box below.