West India Food

The dole gang set me up with this group interview to work as a cook in some Caribbean place in Stratford. There was four of us in there and I was the only one who had any cooking experience so figured I was a shoe-in. Just had to get through this role play kind of task and the job was surely mine. We got split into two groups of two and were told to pretend we had been given a ton of money and we had to set up our own restaurant. They wanted us to think of where it would be, what type of clientele we would be aiming for, how the inside and outside of the restaurant would look, what type of food we would serve etc. We had 8 minutes.

I worked in this deep south bbq restaurant in the states. It was a really nice place, served great food, was always packed and you don’t see them often so at least it would be something different. I remember everything about the place from the menu to the cheesy décor to how much staff you need etc. I figured I’d just ramble on describing everything I could remember and they’d be happy with that. We’d put it in Leicester Square to get the tourists. My partner had different ideas though.

Him: OK first thing we need to decide is the name, that is the most important thing

Me: surely we should agree on what type of restaurant it is first?

H: no the name is the most important, we need to come up with the name

M: OK how about Turtle Crossing (my old restaurant)

H: No, no. I have a good name. Write this down. The name will be West…India…Food

M: West India Food, OK right, time is ticking away, we need to be able to describe stuff to her about it

H: now we need to decide where the restaurant will be

M: alright well I was thinking about this deep south American restaurant, real authentic bbq place, I can picture everything about it, we’d have all these signs on the wall blah blah, I think Leicester Square would be the best place cause you get all the tourists there

H: No we need to have it in Stratford, there are lots of restaurants there, a lot of people, yes it will be in Stratford

M: But surely Leicester Square is better, it’s the middle of town, its packed there all year long. An American style restaurant would fit right in there

H: No, we have it in Stratford. There are no American people here, we wont do that type of restaurant

M: alright here, fuck, time is ticking away and all we have is a name and a location, what will the restaurant be like then?

H: it will be like a restaurant in the Caribbean

M: you’re just describing their restaurant, I don’t think they’re going to be too impressed if we set up a restaurant right beside them serving the same food. Anyway, what is the inside going to look like?

H: it…will…be…very big on the inside…and will be like the Caribbean

M: Here we have to be able to actually give a presentation and talk about the inside of the place in detail in about 2 minutes time. Listen we don’t have time anymore, I have this idea I can describe the whole place to her, its got old school booths and a picture of a cactus on the wall and these cheesy signs, one says “please corral the kids” and theres another on the way out that says “you are now leaving Turtle Crossing, back to grim reality”. Theres going to be corn bread and the best bbq sauce which we’ll sell bottles of to take home too, there’ll be a band on Fridays playing old funky music, a real family place

H: No, no, its called West India Food and it’s a Caribbean restaurant

M: right give me something, what type of food will we have?

H: We will serve…chicken

M: Jesus. Chicken, anything else?

Woman: OK, time up, who would like to go first?

My man sticks his hand up like we have some amazing idea he cant wait to tell her. This is going to be good

W: Oh great, you have £20 million, what is your restaurant like?

Big smile on his face like he is about to knock her socks off

H: The restaurant will be called West India Food. And it will be in Stratford

W: Oh some competition, OK, keep going

Big smiley head on him, he thinks he’s on a roll, he’s got it in the bag

H: We will be serving chicken, and rice…

M: I, I mean we have this idea for a deep south American bbq place, real family place, old fashioned, has pictures of cowboys blah blah

W: Oh so you’re going to have like a mix of the America’s, you have the deep south kind of mixed in with the Carribean, oh lovely

M: yeah sure why not

W: And how much will you be charging for say one main meal?

Big smiley head on him

H: £20

W; that’s a bit expensive, even for kids?

H: (smiling and nodding)

M: actually we were thinking no more than a tenner

W: OK so moving on, what type of restaurant have the other team got?

The other group actually talked about buying an island and having people fly over especially to eat there. I didn’t even get called for an interview, what a load of shite

Basement watch day 23

Got up early for college, went into the kitchen, had breakfast, ran upstairs, brushed my teeth, got back down and something stopped me in my tracks. The door to the basement was open and unattended for the first time. Oh fuck. My heart starting pumping. Where the fuck is he? I started thinking of him as Barts twin brother who lives in the attic and he’s after getting out. Got a bit panicky and then for some reason I craned my neck in line with the gap to have a look down the stairs. I saw a bed by the wall, a desk, a guitar, bricks, and the colour green. I wanted to know more, its 26 feet long down there so he must have loads of mad shit going on. Fuck me and my curiosity, just as I was getting closer and having a good stare I heard a click, spun round and there he was coming out of the conservatory. There’s another jacks out there he was obviously using. We passed each other by in silence and I grabbed my lunch and left. That was a close one.

Basement watch day 21

He’s made a couple of appearances now, I think he delayed moving in at first. It’s clear that he only says hello to the landlord, sometimes it’s a little wave, other times it’s an actual word. Every time he surfaces he has his ear phones blaring so he doesn’t hear anyone say hello, usually just comes up to fill a cup or go to the jacks, definitely doesn’t do any cooking.

Pattern cutting hand in

Handed in pattern cutting folder today. Its annoying cause you’re working on massive pieces of paper which don’t fit into your A3 folder so you fold them up and it just looks crap. To make up for this I decided to put some time into a good cover. I had plans for doing like a Lord of the Rings trilogy for my 3 folders. Was going to put Gandalf on the front of my pattern cutting folder as the pattern master but it was looking shit. Drew a bust (like a manikin but without a head and arms) beside Gandalf and that looked better so went with it. Took ages to come up with an idea and in the end I spent one day working on what was in the folder and 3 long nights deciding what to put on the front.

That day the fire alarm went off and we all had to file out and congregate in the park down the road. Was funny cause I guess most courses at Newham are practical so you get big groups of people who all look the same. As everyone spilled out into the car park it looked a bit like the original grand theft auto when you’re looking down and see a group of hare chrishnas in a line together or a group of police or mafia or whatever. Theres a good few skinny jeans wearing tailors who all looked similar. Then all the girls from fashion poured out all dressed up. There was a fashion show on so a bunch of models getting their hair done came out after them. A load of artists appeared with a painting on a canvas in their hand. Then the chefs hit the streets. About 50 people head to toe in chef whites all poured out at the same time. Was hilarious looking walking down the street. Didn’t even know there was a cooking course in Newham so had a look into it later. Turns out its some Jamie Oliver thing, one day a week for 10 weeks. I haven’t heard the last of this.

What lies beneath?

Down in the bat cave you sometimes hear laughter. Still haven’t actually seen basement guy since the second day though. Have heard him laughing out loud a couple of times now, this long loud cackle, really gives me the creeps.

Another beatbox session for the lads

This time they went for ages cause Raymondo had a proper DJ machine thing going, Joey again tapping his beer (he drinks every night, every single night without fail, like he’s on a J1 or something), Mark giving it socks on the pots and pans and chopping board. He got so into it, like he thought he was headlining a festival or something, banging away there for at least a half an hour, grabbing things off shelves to play on.

I’m starting to like it here, nice bit of randomness and there’s always music going. One time we didn’t turn the TV on for two straight nights and just made terrible music, I’ve even started on the banjo. At night when its quiet and you sit in the chair by the fridge, you can hear the ocean.

Re-boot

We went over our CVs in the theory part of the course today. Its funny to see that nothing I have on there is in any way relevant to the career I’m aiming for. I’m starting with a clean slate, I can keep my name and contact details and delete everything else. Any job I have had is completely irrelevant. Everything I did in college, forget it. But I studied maths and you use numbers in tailoring. Don’t make me laugh. It’s like being 17 again. It’s good though cause my old CV was a fecking bore, glad to be going back to the start again like Batman Begins or The Amazing Spiderman.

Wednesday is my best day of the week for getting work done. After the theory class I have a bit of lunch and then work away on my own in the workshop. There’s a teacher there til 8 and most people drop off around 5 so you get plenty of help. Now that I’m living so close I’m the first one in in the morning which is new for me. I got in an hour and a half early one morning. It was just me and the cleaner sitting down reading a newspaper. I’m coming in Mondays and Tuesdays too cause sure what else would I be doing. I’m even contemplating going up to the fashion department on Tuesday and Thursday evenings cause they stay open til 9. It’s taking over, this tailoring lark. Wont be needing any of that old crap on my CV ever again I think.

Getting my museum on

Still trying to get around to museums now and again to pretend I’m like artistic or something. Was going to go to the Damien Hirst exhibition in the Tate Modern but it was a bit pricey so settled for the Tate Britain after a lovely walk down the Thames. This was the highlight.


Oh where oh where did I leave my pants this time?

I feel so free without those pants

First welt pocket

Started a welt pocket today too. A welt pocket is the little slanty one that goes in front of your heart on a jacket so you reach it with your right hand. Or two or four of them go on a waistcoat. We'll be putting two not very deep ones on our waistcoat we're due to start making soon

For the first time learning something new I was well ahead of most people and my pocket (before I had sewn the pocket bag on) looked damn good (not my words) too. I’m getting the hang of pockets now, that could be my thing, I could be the one who’s good at pockets, need to keep it up. It’s all down to having a bit of patience and mainly this new machine I’ve discovered. The sewing machine is still kind of wrecking them when I sew the pocket bag on, just at the bottom left corner of each welt but its still so much better than any other machine I’ve been on so far.

Extract from diary that week: The Dream Machine handles like a dream, obviously. It’s so quiet you wouldn’t even know it was on, except that it makes a little beep when you’re sewing. This is a nice touch. No more messing about re-threading the machine over and over and taking the bobbin out to see what the problem is this time. No more pressing too hard on the pedal and ruining samples. No more tears. Looking forward to garment construction for the first time in a while now.

Was telling my sister I was getting good at pockets. She said to send her one over. Said she’d treasure it. It’s great finally being able to make an actual thing. I couldn’t make you a shirt but I could stitch a pocket onto your shirt. I could do a double jetted one or one with a flap or a welt. Plain, stripes or check. Anywhere you want. On the back, no bother. Or I could stitch a load of pockets together in the general shape of a shirt. This is great.

Savile Row trip

Went on our first Savile Row trip to Andersen and Sheppard and Henry Poole. I just love the names of the places, they’re real heroes names. Huntsman, Scabal, Maurice Sedwell, Kilgour, Gieves and Hawkes. I love the way you can go from one shop to another too, I think you can walk the length of the street without going out on the street. You go into one shop and go down to a different shop in the basement. Go through a side door and you’re in another shop. Go up a couple of flights of stairs, out on the rooftop courtyard and into another shop. It’s a bit like a sitcom when I’m in my mates place cause lads from other shops drop in throughout the day, crack a few jokes about the night before and leave through a different door.

Settling in

Few days in the new house now. I’ve moved up in the world from the poorest to the second poorest borough in England but apart from that I’ve gone downhill in every other way. Back to the shared house with dirty worktops, jenga bin, jenga diry dishes, jenga drying dishes, disappearing milk, economising on toilet paper 

We so poor we cant even afford the cardboard part.

Living with a landlord (Mark) which I swore I’d never do but its actually grand, he’s sound. House is a bit filthy but he doesn’t give a shit. If you spill something sure the cats will pick it up or the mice or some creature or other. Also living with his mate (Joey) who previously lived in a car for 3 years, a Lebanese guy (Raymondo), a Portuguese girl, and another English teacher guy who lives in the basement. He’s kind of fat with ginger hair and a big beard. I said hello to him when I first moved in and he must not of heard me so I said hello again later but once again got blanked. That’s where my effort stops.

It is alright here though, plenty big with a nice back garden and a conservatory out the back which is handy for stitching cause it gets all the light. It’s close enough to college that I don’t even need a saddle on the bike or I can walk in 25 minutes, and its very cheap. No more worrying about council tax or bills or any of that crap. There are a lot of cats, I feel like they had the run of the place and are a bit pissed that we all moved in. They watch me sew

Its always just the four lads hanging out without the girl and basement dude. Raymondo hopes to be a music producer when he grows up and has jungle music pumping every night. He’s gona help me get started on the banjo. Last night he unexpectedly started beat boxing and tried to get us to join in, Joey started clicking on his can and Mark started tapping on his laptop. You can’t beat a bit of house share randomness, I think I’m gona like it here.