Two nights out in one week! I hardly know who I am any more. Last Thursday saw us attending The Courier’s Menu Food & Drink Awards, invited by the nice folk of Invest Fife.
Behave, Jolene…
Glad rags were located and squeezed into. I prayed to the patron saint of bladders, as I donned my jumpsuit, not to need the bathroom too often (you know ladies). I then had a stern word with Jolene, my fake boob.
This was not her night and she was to remain firmly in place, regardless of my Anneka Rice outfit’s risqué neckline.
The Mister, handsomest in his kilt, was placed on ‘boob’ watch. A task he didn’t mind in previous years, nowadays it has a different meaning as we hope she behaves and doesn’t perform an unwanted, attention-seeking, leap into my starter.
Oh, the glamour
We arrived intact and, being brave, we mingled at the drinks reception. I managed not to fall off my kitten heels and blushed at my pride over teeny tiny heights as more able, glamorous ladies sashayed past in a way that suggested they elegantly manage ball gowns and stilettos daily.
I admired everyone’s efforts for the first Awards ceremony since Covid stopped play. Sequins. Sparkles. Chic clutch bags. Giant sporrans. Up dos and make-up galore.
I even spotted a new potential BFF wearing glitzy gutties (trainers) and a dreamy dress with pockets – my kinda gal right there!
Hospitality folks always impress with their ability to let their hair down. The room was brimming with those usually responsible for ensuring you all have a great night.
Tonight was their night
They traditionally spend evenings in the kitchen producing your meal or behind the bar, smiling from ear to ear, mixing you the perfect cocktail.
Tonight was their turn to be waited on hand and foot and not one moment of it was squandered.
Imagine my absolute delight at being seated next to the patriarch of Fisher and Donaldson. This, folks, is where even me, a consummate oversharing bletherer, freely admits to being star struck.
I needn’t have worried, they were delightful company and by the end of the evening, I’d been invited on a tour of their famous bakery and introduced to the rest of the family.
I was even more delighted when one of the F&D gang was the trainer-clad lass in the dress with pockets from earlier on, who I’d already decided I wanted as my new BFF.
The host with the most
Gary Mclean, Scotland’s national chef, was our compère for the night. His first official hosting job apparently.
At first he had the look of someone being sent up to the podium by his Mam to ‘say something’ but by the end he’d managed the rowdy, joyous crowd and settled into his role like a pro.
That’s another addition to the ‘any other skills’ section of his CV right there.
Dinner was served, all exceptionally delicious. Each chef was introduced via a short video explaining what they were producing for us all.
Fizz was flowing freely, the crowd already dancing before dessert had been served.
Not me, due to staff absences, I knew I was working early in the morning and accepted neither a hangover nor a broken ankle (from the heels) would serve me well for a shift in the kitchen.
Winners are grinners
It was after 10 past lots-of-fizz o’clock before they announced the winners and they flew past in a flash of whoops, applauds and jubilation.
This is the third time I’ve attended these awards and each time I’ve been impressed with the level of support and camaraderie shown. Everyone was on their feet cheering and clapping throughout, regardless if the opening of the envelope reveals their name or not.
I was thrilled just to have been nominated and invited. You can only imagine how amazed I was to hear us announced the winners of the Community Champion award.
Using Himself to steady shaky legs, I managed on to the stage to collect our award without face-planting or accidently introducing Gary to Jolene.
Interviews and photos done, I arrived home and giddily announced to the kids we’d won and might be in the papers.
Without even looking up, one exclaimed ‘Congrats Mum but that’s hardly news, you’re in the paper every weekend’.
After an evening of glitz, glamour and fine dining, there’s nothing quite like your kids to pop you right back in your place.
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