In 1968, I became a student at the University of Strathclyde, studying for an MSc in Politics. I was attracted by the reputation of Professor Richard Rose, a young and enthusiastic head of department with a major public profile. I stayed for the first year in a ghastly postgraduate hall of residence in Rotten Row, very close to the University’s McCance Building - the location of the Department and also the University’s library. There was of course no Internet, which meant that students spent hours reading in the Library, often the back issues of the (then very few) academic journals. Towards the end of that academic year, I met an attractive library assistant who I later married (and eventually divorced).
My income came from a postgraduate studentship, which (just) covered my living costs and allowed me to eat out at a restaurant about once a month. But there was astonishingly little choice in Glasgow restaurants at that time: almost all were steakhouses owned by Reo Stakis, who had come to Scotland from Cyprus many years before. Stakis knew what sold and his restaurants were well-run and produced tasty and economical food, albeit from a restricted menu. There was a Stakis steakhouse just below the McCance Building on George Street, and this was my usual spot for dining out.
I remember this experience well. Like most British restaurants then and for many years after, the steakhouse was dimly-lit. There was an open kitchen and grill, which was used for cooking the steaks. There was a choice of sirloin, rump and rib-eye, in different weights. The restaurant also served gammon steaks and (I think) a fish dish. I would usually start with either a prawn cocktail or egg mayonnaise. The latter comprised two halves of a boiled egg, covered in mayonnaise with some paprika. Both the latter ingredients were at that time quite exotic. For the main course, I usually ate the cheapest rump steak, which would be accompanied by a single large cepe, a grilled tomato and some hand-cut chips. When this was finished, I would be offered a selection of puddings from a ‘sweet trolley’ which was wheeled round to the table. I usually chose either black forest gateau or trifle. After the meal, there was then a fashion for Irish Coffee (coffee with whiskey, with cream floating on top), but I preferred my coffee unadulterated.
I had thus eaten the characteristic 1960s British restaurant meal, now utterly out-of-fashion and even mocked by comedians. But the food tasted wonderful, and the restaurant gave me a warm feeling that I had enjoyed a special treat. Suppose I were to be transported back to 1968 to eat the same meal at the same restaurant - would I still find the food as tasty? In the years since then, my tastebuds have experienced many different types of food in several countries, but I think that a Reo Stakis steak and chips would still be satisfying. This is because steak and chips, egg mayonnaise and trifle can be some of the tastiest food on the planet. This of course involves the radical idea of judging food primarily by its taste rather than by fashion (ingredients which you have never heard of and which are unobtainable outside central London), by arty-farty arrangements of food on the plate (towers, drizzles, foam etc), or by the expensive ambience of the restaurant in which it is served.
Why has taste declined as the main criteria for judging food? The main reason is probably the importance of television and its many celebrity chefs. Television is a visual medium utterly unable to transmit taste or smell to its viewers. To keep the viewers’ attention, its celebrity chefs must generate a succession of innovative recipes, often filmed in exotic locations and using strange ingredients. People thus come to judge food by what it looks like and whether it succeeds in being strange and different.
See also:Dining in yuppieland
My income came from a postgraduate studentship, which (just) covered my living costs and allowed me to eat out at a restaurant about once a month. But there was astonishingly little choice in Glasgow restaurants at that time: almost all were steakhouses owned by Reo Stakis, who had come to Scotland from Cyprus many years before. Stakis knew what sold and his restaurants were well-run and produced tasty and economical food, albeit from a restricted menu. There was a Stakis steakhouse just below the McCance Building on George Street, and this was my usual spot for dining out.
I remember this experience well. Like most British restaurants then and for many years after, the steakhouse was dimly-lit. There was an open kitchen and grill, which was used for cooking the steaks. There was a choice of sirloin, rump and rib-eye, in different weights. The restaurant also served gammon steaks and (I think) a fish dish. I would usually start with either a prawn cocktail or egg mayonnaise. The latter comprised two halves of a boiled egg, covered in mayonnaise with some paprika. Both the latter ingredients were at that time quite exotic. For the main course, I usually ate the cheapest rump steak, which would be accompanied by a single large cepe, a grilled tomato and some hand-cut chips. When this was finished, I would be offered a selection of puddings from a ‘sweet trolley’ which was wheeled round to the table. I usually chose either black forest gateau or trifle. After the meal, there was then a fashion for Irish Coffee (coffee with whiskey, with cream floating on top), but I preferred my coffee unadulterated.
I had thus eaten the characteristic 1960s British restaurant meal, now utterly out-of-fashion and even mocked by comedians. But the food tasted wonderful, and the restaurant gave me a warm feeling that I had enjoyed a special treat. Suppose I were to be transported back to 1968 to eat the same meal at the same restaurant - would I still find the food as tasty? In the years since then, my tastebuds have experienced many different types of food in several countries, but I think that a Reo Stakis steak and chips would still be satisfying. This is because steak and chips, egg mayonnaise and trifle can be some of the tastiest food on the planet. This of course involves the radical idea of judging food primarily by its taste rather than by fashion (ingredients which you have never heard of and which are unobtainable outside central London), by arty-farty arrangements of food on the plate (towers, drizzles, foam etc), or by the expensive ambience of the restaurant in which it is served.
Why has taste declined as the main criteria for judging food? The main reason is probably the importance of television and its many celebrity chefs. Television is a visual medium utterly unable to transmit taste or smell to its viewers. To keep the viewers’ attention, its celebrity chefs must generate a succession of innovative recipes, often filmed in exotic locations and using strange ingredients. People thus come to judge food by what it looks like and whether it succeeds in being strange and different.
See also:Dining in yuppieland
