Rocking around the seasonal clock

A few weeks ago I bemoaned the fact that chefs never get invited to dinner as people are afraid to cook for them etc etc

A few weeks ago I bemoaned the fact that chefs never get invited to dinner as people are afraid to cook for them etc etc. Well, I wasn't quite prepared for the social whirl that is Dungarvan in summertime. I'm attempting to write this the day after the best party of the year: 150 thirtysomethings head-banging to Meatloaf's Bat out of Hell at our friend's barn dance (I used to be a far more efficient head-banger before I started to resemble Meat Loaf).

Maire and I have two days to recover before we finish work and rush off to JR's (the local hamburger magnate) end-of-season dinner party. By now I have cultivated a wonderfully haggard appearance that elicits sympathy from our more motherly customers. Needless to say, I don't give them all the gory details of the Dungarvan party frenzy but put it down to hard work. I'm afraid the staff are taking my bad example a little too seriously, with the result that on a few mornings, we would have easily passed as extras on the set of ER. Mind you, Maire wouldn't mind George Clooney making her morning cup of tea.

We have had some casualties with all the work and play. Eamon, our talented nineteen-year-old commis chef and possessor of more raging hormones than the entire Waterford minor hurling team, had to take a few days off as the doctor said he was run down. I'm happy to say that he is now back in the fullest of health and can resume his hobby of telling every woman within snogging distance that he loves her. Even Maire has been given Eamon's love treatment. Suffice to say he is still waiting for his pay rise!

I hope I'm not painting a picture of non-stop revelry in the Decies. The town was extremely busy this summer, with a visible increase again this year of visitors and tourists. This is good news for us and a lot of others who took a gamble by opening their own business. The season is drawing to a close now and unfortunately Richie, our dessert genius, is moving back to Dublin. He will be missed by all of us.

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Working in a small, demanding kitchen is tough. You have to get on with each other - otherwise tempers flare. To me, success in a kitchen team is measured when virtually no communication during service is necessary, meaning that everyone knows exactly what they have to do for a well-ordered, efficient service. This takes time and patience to achieve. People who can be creative under pressure and have a desire to always try to do it better next time are rare, but I like to think that creative, hard-working people will always be rewarded.

With Richie leaving, a link will be broken that will have to be replaced, but I will take my time to choose a replacement carefully. Applications to me at the Tannery please - Pioneers welcome!

As we head into the autumn season and quieter nights, I find myself less fearful than in previous years. Perhaps I'm learning to accept the highs and lows of a seasonal business rather than wondering if there is something wrong with my cooking. In fact, I'm relishing the extra time to think about new dishes, put them into practice and witness the reaction of the customer.

The good thing about my job is that with every new season comes a new ingredient. In summer, I concentrate on fish and lighter methods of cooking, such as steaming, poaching and grilling with plenty of tomatoes, peas, asparagus, aubergines and peppers. The starters are more salad-oriented, whereas the autumn heralds the arrival of game, stews, roasts, parsnips, cabbage and other root vegetables. All of these changes will keep interested cooks on their toes and mentally and physically challenged on a constant basis.

I'm thinking about a new autumn menu at the moment, so the first thing I have to do is talk to my suppliers to see what is available. There is simply no point in sitting down to write a menu when there is no understanding of what is in season from either a culinary or financial viewpoint. It really is quite simple. Whatever is in season is at its best and cheapest, so communicating with suppliers is vital.

Things to do with mushrooms

Our friend Eunice (who had the barn dance) has just dropped in a basket of the most beautiful, freshly picked field mushrooms - one of my favourite things. These are perfect for lunch: an earthy field mushroom and blue cheese soup, for example. The blue cheese adds piquancy and an extra dimension. You could perhaps do a savoury French toast with grilled mushrooms and lots of garlic and crispy onions. To take it a bit upmarket, put parmesan and sage in the egg and milk mixture for the toast and serve with some parma ham, accompanied by mixed leaves with a simple balsamic vinegar and olive oil dressing.

Even simpler still, pan fry the mushrooms in olive oil. Add some garlic butter and, when foaming, add a dash of balsamic vinegar and some brown stock (optional for vegetarians). Season and place in a bowl in a warm place for 15 minutes. The mushrooms will secrete their juices to mingle with the garlic butter, olive oil and balsamic vinegar. This is your dressing. Serve the mushrooms on top of some rockett, spoon over the dressing with lots of fresh Parmesan and roasted pine nuts and drizzle with white truffle oil. Serve with crusty bread.

FOR 4 SERVINGS:

10 medium field mushrooms - cut 1/2 cm thick

2oz butter

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 fl oz olive oil

1/2 fl oz balsamic vinegar

1 handful rockett

4 oz grated parmesan

white truffle oil if desired (remember this is quite pungent, and a little goes a long way) 2 oz toasted pine nuts (or flaked almonds)

With this dish, a bottle of your favourite red wine is essential. A Cotes du Rhone - Saint Josef (AOC) (available from David Dennison Fine Wines, Waterford) would be fantastic. A New World Shiraz or Merlot would also be very good.

Paul Flynn is chef proprietor at the Tannery, Dungarvan, Co Waterford