LAST time the Bird and Bottle at the "New" Ambassador Hotel visited, the food, service, prices were disgusting. I wrote so here, pulling no punches. A screeching
harridan with the harsh rasp-like tones of a chain-smoking fishwife (or senior Women's League member?) rang screaming my "poison pen" had cost two (or three?) people's jobs, was I ****ing proud of myself?
Not especially; I was doing my job: properly. They (presumably) weren't. Certainly unashamed of repercussions, but some reservations. Knowing government departments and parastatals, if three heads actually rolled, almost surely wrong trio decapitated. Great ones for scapegoats: government operations.
A major problem is being unable to expunge the haunting memory of how spectacularly good B&B once was. It had character and characters. My pal and neighbour, the late Maj. Bill "Darkie" Jones, MM, Croix de Guerre, a doyen of the textile trade, entertained there almost daily at a permanent table. Across a narrow aisle, Ken Mobbs a jovial journalist who "edited" IANA (ZIANA's predecessor) from City Club, Salisbury Club, Quill Club or Long Bar "blew" expenses lunchtimes most days, surrounded by bon vivants from the world of hackery. The proprietor, the suave, urbane George Wilcox, often in Red Sea-rig white sharkskin tuxedo, crimson bow-tie and cummerbund, lord of all he surveyed.
Dusting the war, free-spending journalists: household names from the world's front pages and TV screens zig-zagged, drink(s) in hand between cosy cocktail bar and warm welcome of the B&B for excellent food, before "one" upstairs in the old Quill, over the road to Can-Can, or civilised night club. Flambé pans crackled, whooshed, producing perfect pepper steaks and prawn dishes or later crepes Suzettes. Great wines were poured, discussed knowledgeably. Air was blue with fine cigar smoke and journos' expletives. Above all, non-stop laughter in a city supposedly under siege. Cooking wouldn't have been out of place in Paris, Rome or Cape Town. Despite sanctions, there were few shortages.
B&B's now a sad, often empty character-less hotel dining room, offering a third-rate buffet. I went mainly because I'd to hang around town. In shorts on a steaming day couldn't eat at nearby club. No longer are jacket, collar and tie compulsory even in Suicide Month; shorts still verboten!
Lunch began with promise. Not memorably good cream of chicken up, but workmanlike. A bowl (when found) almost filled from deep ladle (when found.) They didn't find bread rolls and/or butter but, eventually, a handful of burnt croutons, little larger than crumbs, served at the table. (Betraying tell-tale remnants of breakfast flakes.)
For a help-yourself buffet rarely seeming to do much trade, there's a huge staff. Just watching them enter and leave the kitchen made my head spin. Only nine punters, though. Idea of a buffet is to cut ludicrously dear labour bills (now half-a-million monthly for washer-uppers or spud peelers!)
Three salad dishes of cheapest possible ingredients. Nicest was grated carrot: but what seemed a huge bowl was a hoax. I'd first helping and found the layer only centimetres deep, an upturned pudding basin covered with carrot taking up much volume.
Chicken a la king stringy; bony, almost tasteless; braai pork ribs greasy; avoided leathery-looking stir-fried beef. Sadza or bland rice; tomato and onion gravy which clearly didn't go with huku and "stir-fried" veg: possibly stirred since Mafeking Day. In the unlikely event I was served that sort of grub at home I'd reach for chutney, piccalilli and/or beetroot to add bite, flavour and colour.
Planned an abstemious day: honestly! "Iced" Harare tap-water tasted more foul than it smelt; no ice. Pilsener was possibly the most beautifully chilled consumed this year, but $15 000 for 375ml! At the club (another one ... shorts OK) 750ml "bomber" $10 500.
Puddings were disastrous. One fresh fruit salad visibly curled, discoloured in noon heat and humidity. Another was "in jelly" to help preserve colour, texture. It didn't set! Tiny slivers of probably least tasty melktert ever; thin, watery custard.
Nothing but soup, had flavour. Nothing leapt out, saying: "Eat me! Don't mind helping myself, but object to half a dozen folk - who might as well serve - asking every two minutes: "Is everything alright, sir?"... beaming smugly on hearing: "Not really."
Three course buffet $90 000, lager $15 000. It apparently takes three senior B&B staff 10 minutes to calculate correct change from $120 000!
Awarded Half a Star on last visit (four/five years ago?) No improvement.
Bird and Bottle, New Ambassador Hotel, CBD. Residential. Open breakfast, lunch, supper daily. Booking unnecessary. Tel 729851/6.
Harvest of plenty
By sheer coincidence had another hotel buffet next night.
My friend Tessa Kok, formerly a top p/a at ZTA (when Zim had tobacco to sell) oohed and aahed at delightful display in Sheraton's Harvest Garden. Years since she'd been.
Started with creamy mushroom soup with unusually nice nutty woodlands taste the hotel's great home-baked rolls and butter and excellent croutons. Two groaning displays of salads. We'd the usual Greek, wonderful smoked trout, deep fried kapenta and crocodile tails. Maybe because it was Friday - "Africa Night"- there were bowls of nyimo beans, chickpeas, groundnuts. Also "caterpillars" (mopani worms) we shunned; cold meat, cucumbers, gherkins, green salad, tomatoes as big as apples, pasta and rice salad, grated carrot. Half a dozen home-made and bought dressings, salad creams, mayonnaise.
Main feature on entree display huge golden "churkey" (capon) carved by the amiable duty chef, I'd some with a large baked potato and more salad; Tess, spuds and stir-fried vegetables: peas, carrots, cauliflower. Also traditional rape and spinach dishes, rice and sadza; rump steak griddled to order; a under-utilised braai on the stoep served wors and pork fillets.
Nibbled cheese platter: Roquefort, cheddar, Cheshire and Vumba with chutney, fruit compote, pickles, crackers or crusty bread. Skipped desserts. Tessa and I had a pot of good filter coffee (not offered at B&B) discussing mutual friends until late.
At $135 000, the Sheraton buffet's exactly 50% dearer than Ambassador's; possibly 500% better. Excellent nutritious fresh food; one could make the meal bulky or light; mainly served ourselves, but waitress, Patience, accurately anticipated when I'd need another chilly Pilly, Tess a G&T.
It's a year plus since I last reviewed lunch or supper at Harvest Garden, then Debbie Oldfield of the International Wine & Food Society and I dropped rating from Four to Three-and-a-Half stars as they'd no roast (just after Christmas.) Now De Luxe category; pleased to reinstate Four Rosettes (usual maximum for buffet/carvery operation.) Mid-January 2005.
Harvest Garden, Sheraton. Open breakfast, lunch, supper daily. Booking advised on special occasions. Tel 772633-9.
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