Whenever I see Paris Brest on a menu I'm reminded of Tony, my very eccentric head waiter who I worked with for many happy years at The Chalice Restaurant in Bury. I cooked, he was front of house. His first job when he arrived at work (usually late as he stopped to buy things on the side of the road, arriving in with eggs, flowers, vegetables and often a piece of furniture) was to check what was on the menu and then to hand write the copies. His handwriting was awful and his speciality was the deliberate misspelling of menu items hoping that I wouldn't find out before the end of service and allowing him to regale the customers with a verbal description of the desserts of the day. 30 years on I will never forget his squiggle, the r and i in Paris becoming an m. So dear followers, in honour of Tony I give you my recipe for Pams Brest.
Look at some of these grate spellings, collected from a variety of establishments over a surprisingly short period of time. Do people not proof read anymore?
When I worked in a Suffolk restaurant the thought of a food critic discovering us, writing amazing things and launching us into celebrity-land was always tempered by the fact that they might not get it, would write something rude and send us in a nosedive into even greater obscurity. Like a Michelin star it's as much a blessing as a curse. And although the critics still have some influence, now that anyone can have an opinion I'm sure it keeps them on their toes. Tracey MacLeod, food critic of the Independent, ventured out not too long ago to review The British Larder, a Suffolk country pub that has a food blog of the same name.