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Guardian/ Asadour/Guzelian
The buffet at Taybarns.

The (Manchester, England) Guardian takes a look at an all-you-can-eat restaurant chain that's packed in these times: How Taybarns tasted success. Here's Taybarns' menu.

The price -- $13, $9.80 before 5 p.m., $13.90 on weekends, when there are more choices, and about $6.50 anytime for children under 10 -- don't seem all that low, compared to, say, the cost of a family pig-out at McDonald's. But the variety's the draw, as well as the quantity. If the quality is "steam-table soggy," there's always a second chance at tasty.

It is Monday, one of the poorest nights in the industry, when two-for-one offers are at their most rampant. There is a rule of thumb that the better the weather, the worse the trade, and the skies above the Wigan branch of Taybarns are burning blue. Yet the restaurant, billed as "the ultimate eatery", is packed.

The sign outside tells customers what to do once they have parted with their £7.99 (£5.99 before 5pm). "Grab a plate, help yourself, help yourself again." The folk of Wigan oblige, with 750 of them through the door by 7.30pm. In the great depression of the 1930s, when George Orwell was writing The Road to Wigan Pier, the government tried to fix the price of fish and chips to ensure working people had a chance of being adequately fed. Now, in an age where the spell of the celebrity chef has been broken, the biggest attraction of Taybarns's food is that there is lots of it.

In a recession ... these may be the most successful restaurants in Britain today. The Wigan branch has been open a year and in that time has served more meals (330,000) than the population of the town (300,000). Inside, it is no delicate waltz, not even a can-can, more a jive on roller skates as, from all directions, people attack the giant 150ft bar on which are displayed the staples of family food - a carvery, roast chicken, burgers, pizza, Bakewell and treacle tarts. The star of the dessert counter is a machine that pours the kind of soft ice cream that Mr Whippy made his name perfecting.

Somewhat to my surprise, the story mentions "...the Golden Corral chain of all-you-can eat outlets there (in America). Golden Corral launched when Richard Nixon was still in the White House and turns over $1bn a year - but it was 2002 before it tiptoed into the leafier, snootier thoroughfares of New England."

I've never heard of Golden Corral. Apparently its sole New England beachhead is in Springfield, Mass. We're not too snooty and leafy for all-you-can-eat Asian buffets, however, which abound.

Via MeFi, which also points to a February London Times story, A trade that has cooked its own goose, about the failure of finer restaurants, and puts the blame squarely on the restaurants themselves:

if the world wanted cassoulet with clams and galangal, French cooks would have hammered out this combination long ago. Nobody wants to eat in a restaurant where the chef thinks he knows best what you want to eat or the waiter has to explain the concept of how to order. We don't need salt sourced from the Himalayas. Not every dish is improved by chorizo. Nobody wants to eat a £17.95 ($29.38) lamb shank again.

Too many restaurants in England have misunderstood their role. They are places we go to when we don't want to cook; when we want to catch up with friends or to grab a bite after a movie. The restaurant, and food? They lubricate the evening. Unless you are going to El Bulli in Spain to experience Ferran Adrià's cooking, they are rarely the point of the evening. What we mostly want is a cosy trattoria that we can stagger home from. But even the cheaper end of the market makes your spirits sag.

 Tags  Taybarns

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