Castle Howard
The oldies are the best, right? Well this is one is from a few months ago:
As part of our trip up to York (see next post) we visited a grand country estate called Castle Howard. This impressive house and grounds was used (and even renovated for) location of two motion picture films of Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited.
I’d been here many years before, having undertaken a slightly overambitious cycle here from York as a student. I cycled right up to the entrance but was never planning to go in and so only really realised what I’d messed out on years later in watching the aforementioned film! The house and grounds are stunning, to the point of being intimidating.
We had done the customary Google search of Castle Howard for catering facilities/menus/allergen accommodation/social media review of good/bad experiences but had found very little. It was clear that there were two cafes and one restaurant although what these entailed was left a mystery. The place is in the middle of nowhere and once you’re in, you’re not really going to go elsewhere for food.
We arrived not long before we knew Piglet would need feeding and headed to the ‘restaurant’ thinking that had the best chances of culinary flexibility! The restaurant was situated in one of the grand rooms just round the corner from where that photo was taken and while the room was impressive; the setup was more canteen than the description might have sounded. We scanned the room: pre-made sandwiches, a soup of the day, a salad bar, a hot food counter with pies/quiche/sausage rolls, a chiller for cold drinks and a service area for hot drinks. The food looked good but predicting ingredients was going to be impossible.
We found a member of staff and asked (in hope) whether they might have an allergen menu. To my surprise they said yes and went to go and find the customary ring binder folder of disappointment. As is often the case, the allergen menu didn’t seem to match up exactly to what was on offer but we managed to rule out a few options and identify some possibilities from the salad bar. One option from the hot food counter which I fancied wasn’t in the menu so they phoned through the kitchen and got a quick confirmation that it did indeed contain butter. That in itself gave me comfort that they at least knew what they were dealing with.
Eventually we chose a couple of options from the salad bar and a sandwich that (to my pleasant surprise) was free of both butter and soya. We collected our selections on to a couple of trays and went to pay feeling pleasantly surprised that we’d managed to fashion an acceptable lunch considering very little looked likely when we first walked in. Sitting down in the next room (another high ceiling, marble pillared statement of grandeur), Piglet made his way through the portion of cherry tomatoes we had planned to all share with admirable selfishness. I took a bite of my sandwich and stopped.
Butter
I was sure it tasted like butter. Having spent the first 17 years of my life steadfastly avoiding milk products, I’d become pretty good at detecting that taste. I opened the sandwich and the bread was clearly covered in some sort of spread. I show my wife. We frown. I think. It was definitely clear on the allergy menu. Perhaps it was a dairy-free spread. Perhaps it was mayonnaise (despite many people’s assumptions, I can in fact eat nearly all mayonnaise). I thought perhaps I was being too sceptical. It’s very easy (and often safer) to assume that caterers don’t know what they’re doing. I quickly went through the following thought process in my head: ‘it was fine on the allergen menu’; ‘the catering staff seemed on top of it’; ‘I’m hungry’; ‘I don’t really want to make a fuss’ and decided to keep eating.
Two bites later and common sense caught up on me. Why take the risk? Having identified that there was spread in the sandwich, it was highly unlikely that anyone would have chosen one of the few butter alternatives that don’t contain dairy but yet not bother to advertise that they are really suitable for people with allergens. I picked up my sandwich and my pride and headed back into the canteen. Luckily the woman I had spoken to around the allergen menu was just passing. She asked ‘is everything OK?’ and I explained that it seemed like the sandwich which I’d checked with her contained butter. Could she check whether it was butter before I carried on eating it. Without needing to check she fairly confidently stated, ‘I imagine all the sandwiches have butter in them’. I was too confused to show my frustration. I explained that I therefore couldn’t eat it and she offered to replace it with something else.
Sitting back down, and trying to ignore the joy in Piglet’s eyes at the sight of more tomatoes, I explained the turn of events to my wife. I remember feeling quite overcome with frustration and anger. It took me by surprise. I’ve accidentally eaten allergens before many times but this event made me feel a range of emotions. I was annoyed at having been mislead but more than that I was embarrassed at having misplaced trust; I was angry at knowing I would probably now face days of allergic reactions on our mini holiday break; I was incredulous at the ignorance of having an allergen menu but no real knowledge of how to maintain it (I realised in hindsight that the allergen menu was probably only talking about the ingredients in the sandwich filling – the sandwiches that were made fresh each day were completely outside that process, in fact, the bread probably contained soya too).
What bothered me most is that the presence of the allergen menu had taken away my own ability to trust my instincts. Having talked it through at length I actually feel some sympathy with Castle Howard. The restaurant is probably a necessary attraction to keep visitors paying to come visit and the turnover from both is probably a tiny chunk of the revenue needed to cover the maintenance of such a building. It’s probably not anyone’s labour of love and there were undoubtedly discontented groans from all the staff when laws introduced to prevent me eating that sandwich meant the allergen menu became a legal requirement. But that’s what really bothers me… While legally unjustifiable, if I’d have walked in and explained our allergens and they’d have just said ‘I don’t know’ or left me with the clear understanding that I would be taking a clear risk in eating anything I would have left and eaten somewhere else.
And this is why this blog matters. Why I think it’s worth doing. So many people would have been through my frustration but not changed anything. Catering for allergens makes economic sense. As someone with allergens, I have a big impact on where me and my friends choose to eat. I can’t imagine the amount of turnover I have pointed Pizza Express’ way for ease of knowing I will be virtually guaranteed a risk-free meal. Imagine if Castle Howard started seeing a fall in sales and could identify it to a handful (or more) of bad reviews about allergens being compromised. I don’t even mean as a threat, I don’t want to punish anyone, just as an effect of genuine market place supply and demand. What better way is there to drive change?