Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The mind of an editor

Or, "An insight into the pedantry of the perforations"

Yesterday I was visiting my parents and while we were sat having a cuppa we starting talking about the various monikers for the generations: Gen Ys, Gen Xs, Baby Boomers etc.

We established that I am a boomer, but I was interested to hear my father describe his generation as the “frugal generation”. I had heard them referred to as the silent generation but not as frugal.

But it made sense. Because as a generation they were certainly frugal.

Our conversation turned to childhood memories of saving lengths of string and brown paper to reuse, because “brown paper was made to last back then …” I certainly remember the bottom kitchen drawer being stuffed full of all sorts of useful paraphernalia.

The chat then segued into a discussion about the quality of consumables today. Mum said “have you noticed how the perforations on toilet paper are now no longer as good as they used to be – now you don’t get the clean [no pun intended] tear that you used to.”

Well no I hadn’t. But it gave me an opportunity to chime in with my own little perforation peeve.

I needed to open a new box of tissues the other day. I very carefully ran my finger nail around the perforations, because one thing I REALLY loathe and detest is when you tear off the little opening flap and it isn’t a clean tear, and (quelle horreur) you get a rip across the box. OK, I appreciate that this may not be a big thing to many, but to me it offends my sensibilities and, what is more, as I get very few sniffles I have to put up with a torn box for what could be a couple of months.

Dad completely understood where I was coming from and nodded sympathetically, because, like me, he is an editor. Pedant is our shared middle name.

Mum found it all a bit strange: she just suggested I put a tissue box cover over the box to hide the offensive tear. I retorted that she “just didn’t get it”!

It struck me that this gives an interesting insight into the mind of an editor. Each working day we sweat over full stops (periods if you like), fonts, spelling and grammar. We are often dealing in minutiae. And, let’s face it, a full stop is about the same size as a perforation on a tissue box (give or take).

There are other things Dad and I do that demonstrate our keen interest in attention to detail. Dad has the herb and spice rack in strict alphabetical order. I love nothing more than to swap oregano for allspice when no one is looking. And when the ironed tea towels go back in the kitchen drawer the newly ironed ones go at the bottom of the stack and the clean replacement gets taken off the top so they all get used equally in rotation. I won’t give you any more examples because then he will sound weird – and he isn’t at all really!

I remember making a set of six cushions with a large cabbage rose pattern repeat. Each cushion was made with that cabbage rose exactly in the same spot, front and back. And when they were lined up on the sofa they were all lined up with the rose in exactly the same place. I must have wasted heaps of fabric in my quest for cushiony perfection! My (now ex) husband used to come along and rotate one cushion by 45 degrees – and he thought I wouldn’t notice!

I have moved on since then - I am no longer that keen on cabbage roses for a start. And so has my ex husband. Now none of my cushions match because they are all my one-off tapestry designs. But every stitch is in its place, exactly where it should be!

I suppose it isn’t completely normal to be so pedantic but Dad and I can have a good laugh about our idiosyncrasies so I reckon if we can do that then it makes it all OK. And I don’t think we are completely unbearable to live with. I can cope with a bit of dust and I certainly don’t have a showroom house. But I do like attending to the small details.

I bought my husband a book for Christmas as stocking filler: Don’t sweat the small stuff. I didn’t see the supreme irony at the time but I guess it takes one to know one!

Meanwhile, while Dad and I were laughing about our pedantry, Mum went off to hunt out a tissue box cover. “White or cream” she said triumphantly when she came back.

She just doesn’t get it!

Sunday, February 6, 2011

A tale of two eateries

As readers of this blog will know I like to give a bit of a critique when I go out for lunch or coffee.

Recently I have been travelling up to Noosa fairly frequently as my father is quite sick. I like to go out with Mum to get her out of the house and give her a bit of a break. This review is a tale of two eateries: one on the expensive Hastings Street beach front strip and the other at Noosa Marina in Tewantin.

Let’s start with the not so good one. Situated in Hastings Street is Berardo’s Bistro on the Beach. We had been there a couple of times previously and both times had enjoyed the food but had left feeling that the service was less than brilliant. The prices seemed reasonable considering the location – which it must be said is fantastic, right on the board walk of Noosa’s main beach.

But coming back to the service. If you look the deal you will be attentively served by the young restaurant manager. But if you are like Mum and me – pretty ordinary, run of the mill – maybe wearing a Target tee and Birkenstocks (because you have to wear comfy shoes because you have a bunion – we are talking about Mum here!) and order tap water and a diet coke, then you may as well be invisible.

The first couple of times we put the restaurant manager’s lack of service down to a temporary aberration. OK, they were busy.

But when we returned a week ago with my youngest daughter and hubbie in tow it was really too much.

We had phoned and booked ahead, it being a Saturday in peak tourist season. We left a message on their answering machine that morning at, I am guessing here, about 10am for a 12pm booking. Unfortunately they omitted to check their machine so when we arrived, albeit a little early at 11.45am they weren't expecting us. Although the restaurant was only moderately busy and there were free tables we were asked to go away and return in 15 minutes. No problem. So off we trotted for a walk along the boardwalk.

We returned just after 12 and stood in the doorway. And stood, and waited. And stood some more. And we beheld the, by now, nearly empty restaurant as the late morning crowd left and the early lunchers had not yet arrived. Eventually at 12.20 we were seated. We weren’t really sure why we had had to wait quite so long, no explanation or apology was proffered.

And then we sat at our table and waited. People who came in after us ordered. And we sat and waited. People who came in after us got their food. And we sat. And waited.

You get the picture.

Anyway we gave up on desserts and coffees and headed across the road to Aromas. Got served almost instantly at the counter there. Sat down and breathed a sigh of relief.

Mum and I recall that the last couple of times we ate at Berardos we did the same thing. Shot across the road for our coffees.

Then this Saturday I was back in Noosa, and we decide to go to an old favourite of my parents. Admittedly they are regulars there so they get greeted very warmly on their arrival. Café VinCino’s at the Noosa Harbour jetty.

This is a café. It makes no pretensions about being anything else. Nicole and Mark, the owners, do a brisk trade. Nicole greets everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, as if they were a long lost friend. Her attentiveness is fantastic. When you are ordering and talking to her, she is yours: there are no sideways glances to see who has arrived at the next table.

Nothing is too much trouble. A variation to the menu? No problem!

As I said my Dad has been sick, he has cancer and struggles to eat much at all. Nicole will make him a special smoothie with everything she can think of in it, just for him.

He wasn’t up to going on Saturday. He is very weak now; so Mum and I sat on a table overlooking the Noosa River. The atmosphere is relaxed. We lingered after our main meal and had a coffee and one of the freshly baked treats.

Somehow I can’t see Berardo’s going out of their way to accommodate my father’s dietary requirements. Maybe that is unfair, but to be honest I wouldn’t even dare ask to find out!

The cost of the meal was quite a bit cheaper. Yes, it is a café and not an up-market bistro. But for my money I know where I would much rather go. I don’t feel as if I have to move on to make way for other diners the minute I have finished. The atmosphere is friendly. The staff are always fabulous – Nicole always picks them well.

Yep, VinCino’s wins hands down.

Moral of the story? Well I guess we are not comparing apples with apples here, but when it isn’t fine dining you are after, when price is not too big an issue, when the quality of the food is compatible (albeit VinCino’s has a simpler café style menu, but the quality is really excellent) and when the location is as pleasant, then the service and quality of the staff can make such a HUGE difference.

We won’t be going back to Berardos. We have really had enough.