Ivan (Spadger) Sparrow - 1957 to '60
My memories of The Dinner Ladies :
Coming from a family that considered food to be highly valued, not only as a necessity of Life, but an item that, if one didn’t abide by the instruction to “clear your plate”, you would be on short rations the next meal, or “no pudding for you”. Being a growing and selfish young lad, that appreciated quantity as well as quality, and being taught “not to be fussy”, I had no desire for any of the food that was dished up to me, to go to “the starving children in Africa”. As such I developed a good healthy appetite, even for gourmet food such as Pigs Trotters, Chitterlings, Cabbage (sterilised from any bacteria by an extended period of boiling in highly salted water), Suet Puddings, Bacon Soaks (soaking up the fat from the fry-pan the rashers had been cooked in with a slice of “real” bread) – all the nutritious foods that I now realise in my 70's, and having been educated by modern day health gurus, were guaranteed to “knock me off my perch” (pardon the pun), sometime during Harold Wilson’s reign. Even back in Primary School I loved school dinners, especially in the Summer, when we were occasionally treated to “Frozen Custard”. No wonder I developed a healthy respect for, and a great appreciation of, Dinner Ladies. The Dinner Ladies at the Tech were no exception – they were great. They served up tasty and well presented meals every day. One of my favourites was, succulent plump sausages resting on a bed of creamy mashed potato, surrounded by a sea of perfectly warmed through baked beans, and garnished with some tenderly fried and caramelised onions, and to cap it off just a light drizzle of “jus”. There were usually about two choices on offer. There would be the main dish of course, but you were free to choose not to have the cabbage, and / or potatoes, and / or meat, and / or gravy, and / or beans, etc., thus the choice available was quite varied. The Dinner Bell was always a welcome sound to my ears. A period of pleasure. A period that I would not be marked on, or have homework assigned at the end. Oh! What joy! I would queue against the left-hand wall after entering the Gym, (now the Refectory as it was dinner time), and shuffle in almost single file toward the stage, in front of which were the trestle tables (or “Slop Benches” as some were wont to call them), from which drifted the mouth watering aroma of – Food. Upon gaining the front of the queue I would hand-in my Dinner Ticket, pick up a dinner plate, and be asked the usual question “What would you like today, dear”? Not that I was not fed at home, but as I said previously, I was a growing lad with a healthy appetite, so depending on which Dinner Lady it was and if the meal was say roast beef (which I was quite partial to), my response and the following banter would go something like this – “As I can’t have you (said only in my senior years), I’ll have some beef, please” – on would go two slices – “Could I have some with plenty of fat on, please”? – “Course you can my dear” – on would go another two slices, suitably dressed with a collar of fat – next up roast spuds – on would go two, which I would immediately follow with “Could I have some that are a bit burned on the edges, please”? – “Course you can my dear” – and so to the veggies, hereupon a ladle full would be dispensed upon my plate, which would give rise to, “Could I have some of those veggies on the side that look a little dried out, please”? – “Course you can my dear” and another full ladle of veggies would be deposited on my plate, leaving enough room for the gravy at the end of the line – on would go a scoop full – now, if it was the thick gravy, the request would be “Can I have some with the “skin” on it, please” – you get my drift – and it would be the same procedure for pudding – always asking after the initial serve had been made – “a crusty piece” for bread and butter pud – “some with the “skin” on” for custard or chocolate sauce on the “crusty” sponge. I would carry the plate or bowl laden with my adequate serving (some may say, ample serving), with the skill of a ship-board steward in rough seas, without losing a crumb or drop, over to the trestle table and bench (that others selected for Dinner Duty had withdrawn from under the stage and erected – and would then do the reverse after dinner), where my classmates were sitting, often to receive the comment, “How the hell did you get that lot”? - It was a long day to go before I got home at 6pm, or 6-30pm (if I missed the bus), so it was a simple case of “Up there for thinking, down there for dancing”. Believe it or not, I was 6ft 1 and 3/4 ins and 10st 10lbs (I still have my first report), when I went to the Tech at the age of just turned 13 in 1957, and when I left at 16 (plus a month), I was around 6ft 3ins and about 12st and a bit. So I did not over indulge. To those lovely Dinner Ladies, I thank you for your good nature (probably learned over many years serving meals to hundreds of “scrotes”, such as me), and for keeping my backbone away from my belly - button. I am still not a fussy eater, and still believe in the adage “The only time one can complain about food – is when there is none”. How you managed to do what you did, in that small kitchen/cook house, I will never understand, so thank you Ladies, for keeping me and others sustained, to endure many afternoons of purgatory.
John Warner - 1961 to '66
Pleasant ladies and kind. What used to make me queasy was the smell of sweat in the hall as it had usually just been used as a gymnasium a few minutes previously.The last occupants were required to set out the dining tables and benches