Insider View - On Being Appropriate

Lucy Madden ponders, in her inimitable way, on the inexact science of appropriateness - and its importance in the hospitality business

Photographed outside the High Court at the end of last year, having just lost a much publicised case involving rights of way, the litigant was displaying a daring amount of cleavage. It struck me as a curious choice of garment in which to attend court, dressed as for cocktails. My sister, my eyes upon the wider world, tells me that women of all ages attend business meetings with copious amounts of breast on display.

I question whether it is my age that brings disapproval of this, and younger members of this household tell me that it’s the fashion and nothing more, but still I wonder and was not surprised when one of the Dragon’s Den panel spoke out about this and warned cleavage displayers that they risked being sidelined for promotion.

The whole question of inappropriate dressing and the messages sent out by choice of clothing is one that has always divided the generations. But we’d generally agree, for sure, that setting aside the sex industry (another story) in the hospitality business we want to be looked after by people who are clean, tidily dressed and not displaying unnecessary body parts. Big hair, straggly beards, glimpses of midriff or worse, buttock, and yes, breasts, are just not on. We don’t want sweat, grime or flaky habits.

As someone who suffers from repulsion, my worst moments are spent in public lavatories seeing employees of the premises exit from sessions there without hand-washing. Braver friends speak out to the culprits about this, that it happens at all is shocking.

In a department store recently I saw a member if staff go straight from flushing back to the sandwich counter. When eating in a restaurant where the kitchen is visible, I try to position myself in a seat that enables me to see any gross practices, slurping, nose wiping and the like; it’s as inappropriate in a kitchen as in a surgery.

Inappropriate: it’s such a useful word, and it’s a state of being, like bad taste, that you can’t necessarily describe but you know it when you see it and see it you do, for example, on restaurant menus around the country. Now this is a shame because a wonderful opportunity awaits us.

We, who face years of grinding austerity, are told that the future of this country will depend on our agricultural sector, and this presents us with a great opportunity, at last, to become the Food Island that Bord Bia has long been promoting.

The pity is that we didn’t become an organic haven years ago: too late for that, but not too late to promote a cuisine specifically Irish rather than one that apes global trends. This scramble to be international with our food must have to do with the aspirations of Irish chefs to win Michelin stars. This seems to necessitate a strategy of the baroque on a plate, over-complicating with blobs, twiddles and swirls.

Many years ago I had the privilege of eating the food of Catherine Healy, whose tragic early death robbed Ireland of one of its best restaurateurs. It was a dinner of the utmost simplicity but it was one of the most exquisite and memorable meals of my life. Yet her food might not be appreciated today because it seems we are only impressed by displays of extravagance and the foams and truffle shavings that have become de rigueur in establishments looking to win one of those precious accolades.

We had dinner lately in a restaurant that had been tipped, but failed, to win a Michelin star. The dishes were imaginative and extravagant with trendy miniscule Kilner jars of this and that, but every diner, regardless of what was ordered, was given a side plate with ubiquitous supermarket broccoli, a few carrots and a wedge of not quite cooked potato.

I’m sorry, but this is just not appropriate when ‘fine dining’. And what is a ‘chive reduction’ (in January, when chives don’t grow) or ‘Elemental cheese’, ‘meatball tartine’, ‘potato scale’, all offerings spotted recently on menus. Do we need Won Ton Baskets, drizzles of chocolate oil, splashes of curry oil or that show-stopper the ‘balsamic reduction’ when we have such wonderful home-grown produce in our fields, waterways and gardens?

One of the tastiest, reasonably priced and yes, appropriate dishes I have eaten this year in a public place was at The Old Jameson Distillery in Dublin. For €12 the seafood platter was what I assume every tourist would welcome.

Imagine yourself holidaying in a country with an identifiable cuisine, say Italy, France or Turkey, and being served a hotchpotch of so-called fusion food. My guess is you would be very disappointed and if we are to encourage people to come to this country, a return to a more indigenous cuisine won’t come a day too soon.

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Together with her husband Johnny, Lucy Madden runs their magnificent 18th century mansion, Hilton Park, Clones, Co Monaghan as a country house which is open to private guests, groups, small weddings and conferences. The restored formal gardens are also open by arrangement. Lucy is a keen organic gardener and also a member of the Irish Food Writers Guild.