I got to trade at UCL again during freshers week 2011.Unbeknown to me, I was already trading with the organiser of the Monthly market there,John Shephered but was never invited.I put the reason down to my stall being only a recent addition to his long list of traders.I remember when Zack my neighbour at the industrial unit where I prepared my food who was already trading at his markets,passed his contact details to me. He,d said "just call him but not too often.He can be strange in his ways . Maybe you,ll get into one of his markets maybe you,ll get into all" I however did not take Zack,s advise and rang him incessantly. The poor old bloke must have thought a tornado hit him and perhaps allowed me to trade at his market in Regents Place just to stop me from ringing his phone number.
John Shephered is arguably the most important name in London Street Trading scene and has markets in prime spots like St Katherine,s dock, Canary Wharf,Victoria,Duke of York Square in Chelsea et al. Before long, he would invite me to trade at St Katherine,s dock so ,I did not want to rock the boat .I was also on the verge of loosing my stall at Greenwich market and nursing my tenderly aged son.Besides, I observed that other traders who were invited to his very busy markets had one thing in common;they were mostly very subservient indeed and asked how high ?when Mrs Shephered asked them to jump. I mention the Mrs because It was an open secret that if the Mrs took a disliking to you, You were Kaput , a gonner, your days at Shephereds markets were numbered. I decided to turn a new leaf in his markets and stifle any strong opinion I may have.I am not a shrinking violet by nature but why have an opinion and hawk great food and not get invited to his markets when other traders with less popular food than yours but who are meek do not feel the bite of the recession because they were offered more great markets than they can handle? I had a baby to feed and bills to pay.The trouble was that I neither look nor sound meek. I am one of those people whom you meet and the word FEISTY! screams at you. Anyhow, so as we were invited by him that freshers week, I sent the boyfriend to trade. The University contact for the market bought our food and enjoyed it and wondered why we did not come more often. The boyfriend does not do protocol and quickly launched into the reason he thought we were not invited to the monthly market. The boyfreind has gone and not only put our feet in it, he stirred our financial feet in it.We will now definitely get kicked out of John,s market because word will get back to him that we tried to get into UCL behind his back !I lamented the wisdom in sending the boyfriend in place of a staff to trade that day . If we were never to get another chance at this uni I might as well write the contact. So I carefully worded my email to the contact applying to trade there. Lets just say that the email did not get us in but it was the catalyst to my inclusion to trade at the new KERB run ensemble from January of 2013
During the university,s 2012 Christmas Fair some student officers approached me and offered regret that despite their efforts ,Mr Shephered had refused to invite my stall and others that they had chosen to trade at the monthly market. By now I had organised successful markets in Kingston and Highwycombe and suggested to them that I would be willing to run the market with their chosen stalls and mine.Fair game then when Media Savvy KERB got the gig.Part of the deal was that my stall and two other stalls were included in the trader line up.
So, come January, I was glad and willingly offered advice on parking, average sales, trading times and more when KERB colonels emailed and called me before the first market seeking advice.But like a festering wound, the ugly head of envy and pettiness you would not expect from an outwardly professional outfit like that, reared its ugly head. The manager of the market on the day constantly went up to the boyfriend saying "You are busy aren,t you "?The next month , I got email advising myself that I was not welcome to the market for the February event. There was no precise date for my return.In essence, I had to either curry favour with them, or be subservient in order to continue.Why were all these market organisers ego trippers and petty? I have yet again become a victim of my own success.
I had indirectly traded with KERB once during the Olympics and had applied to be on their list before UCL but that was before I became aware of the sometime percentage rule which I detest. They never approved my application and I never followed it up. Because market organising is unregulated, and majority of the traders are foreigners, traders are invariably treated with contempt by almost every market organizer. These organizers know that there is no real representative body for traders. A lot of these recession -regurgitated new breed market organizers are blatantly getting away with murder!. There really is no need for any market organizer to be ruthless. The world of street trading is fickle enough. Methinks that Markets held at university premises, should be run by scrupulous individuals with the determinant of attending stalls being how busy they are. Students decide which stalls they favour by vote if possible and the organizer is informed. It is reprehensible to remove stalls favoured by students with the ones you think they want because the busy stalls do not belong to your fraternity or the stallholders refuse to fan the organiser,s ego. UCL has produced great minds and leaders and is one of the world,s top ranked universities.Ought it continue to allow an outfit that have behaved with impunity to continue organizing its monthly market? I am happy that on the 25th of September , I went to the market and demonstrated with a lone placard,just me myself and I.To whom it may concern, I never for once believed that I was granted a perpetual right to trade at UCL but the contract with KERB is still ongoing .Why should KERB unilaterally amend or alter the terms of the contract by removing the three stalls it was told to include monthly?. And why should such a bastion of western civilisation allow such autocracy as KERB have displayed, in its university campus?
I ,thank the students who on the 25th,of September, curiously came ,inquired why I was demonstrating and enraged, signed my petition. I am inspired not defeated by my experiences at UCL and at other markets and I will now harness this experiences to set up an organization to fight the corner of the long suffering London street trader We must have good some litigation lawyers though.Hands up any offers?
Friday, 4 October 2013
Sunday, 22 September 2013
I GET LITERALLY KICKED TO THE KERB AT UCL (1)
As the holiday period for Students drew to an end, Yours truly was really looking forward to returning to UCL . No, I am not a student there, neither is it my Alma Mater. I have had a market stall at the monthly food market currently run by KERB Foods since January. However, my association with the Great institution began much earlier. In December 2010 to be precise. Then,my company was was invited by a market organizer named Angela Cash to trade at the Christmas Fair and It was love at First Trade!
I now reminisce . Ingrid, my friend and fellow trader who sold Falafel at Camden market had phoned me on Monday following a very bad weekend trading at Camden to ask if I met the "the woman" hunting traders for her event at UCL. I told her to expatiate. And she did. During the humdrum that was business in Camden that Sunday this woman had come armed with pen and paper taking details of Stallholders and their numbers and inviting almost every trader from the West Yard to what she promises will be a very busy event.But you had to pay up front and the fee equalled what we paid in Camden but the fair was to be held on a weekday. This was new territory for us. I had taken the leap and expanded to Greenwich market when the management at Camden began flooding it with so much food .So ,Ingrid wanted to know if I would be brave enough to take the risk. I said it depended on whether" the woman "contacted me as I was sure my staff would have given her my number but that It was more likely than not that I would do it. Food markets rarely do well at Christmas because Tourists are less about and visitors to markets favour Arts and Craft stalls as they search for presents for their loved ones.So, it made sense to find more trading opportunities.
Later that day I got a call from the market organiser. I said I will be happy to trade at UCL. I rang Ingrid back"I am doing UCL" I said."Me too but do you think Falafel would sell there?" I don,t know Ingrid but you make the best Falafel so I wouldn,t worry about not selling. I am in the same boat as you.This is uncharted territory for me as well.
The weather forecast the week before the Christmas fair was bleak. It was going to snow continuously for 3 days was the prediction. We prayed that the forecasters get it wrong as they were prone to do.They,d got it wrong on so many occasions that we were hopeful that it will only snow for one day max. I remember one August bank holiday when storm was forecast and I,d decided that I was going to trade at Camden, storm or drought and the storm never came.But damn! the forecasters got it right this time. 3 days before the event,it was still snowing and London,s streets looked as white as The White company,s Linen sheets!.Our worry transcended the students bothering to walk the slippery pavements to patronise the market. We the traders work with various heavy cooking utensils and propane gas that we carried with us.Even I, who rarely cancelled markets was beginning to wonder how to cut my impending costs. Should I go to this Fair ? Should I not? I wrestled with my thoughts and decided to minimise my overhead should the students and staff not bother turning up because of the adverse weather condition. I will not attend with any staff. I shall blackmail my daughter into coming with me!. She wanted a Blackberry that Christmas and that sort of Berry did not grow on trees! I could already here her protest about the freezing conditions and why she couldn,t come along but I was certain that the thought of owning the new phone will trump her fear of working in the snow .
I gave myself 45 minutes to get to UCL on the day of the Fair and hit an almighty traffic jam on the A40. The road was gritted but motorists were being very cautious as every travel update warned us to be wary of black ice. Ingrid rang while I was still stuck in traffic. "Where are you Kiru? Everyone ,s set up and the woman is calling for your blood" "She can have my blood when I get there but till then, I am stuck in traffic." I replied "You are always stuck in traffic" she said sarcasm in her voice. "We didn,t get here by helicopter you know we all had to drive to this place and we all made it in time" "Is it busy then are you selling?"I asked ignoring her lecture. "No and my feet is drenched. The snow has not been cleared where the stalls are set up so that if you are not wearing insulated waterproof shoes , it is really atrocious" I wondered again whether to turn back.My daughter advised that we did but I carried on. I arrived an hour late.
"What time do you call this Ms Cash barked as the security at UCL reluctantly allowed my van through the gates. ".I told her to check her phone as I had left messages for her because I was trapped in traffic.She gave me 10 minutes to unload.
As we unloaded, I gladly noticed that the students were braving the adverse weather and were indeed coming out and queueing up in front of the food stalls and that the Sausage stall especially was very busy. This may yet be worth it I thought.
From the moment I was ready to sell, I had a queue. Now, dear reader, this was how my love affair with UCL began.The weather was nasty and I was late but I was fairly busy regardless.This is the litmus test every seasoned trader set themselves before deciding on continuing to trade at any market. If you break even on a day like this , GRAB that market with both hands . The uni loved my food. I made a mental note to love it back.Now if only Ingrid was having a ball like I was. Ingrid suddenly appearead. I took one look at her face and noted that she wasn,t and her words that followed confirmed it. "I cant believe it Kiru you mean you came late and you got the best spot? You have an almighty queue.! I want to leave now .It is dark where we are.I have only sold 6 portions of Falafel. I wish I hadn,t come. I wanna go home now"! She whined. I couldn,t say anything to her as I was busy attending the queue . Moments after Ingrid walked back to her stall, I could hear her demand a return of her fees from Angela. But I had a different kind of worry;How do I become a regular feature at UCL?
The weather forecast the week before the Christmas fair was bleak. It was going to snow continuously for 3 days was the prediction. We prayed that the forecasters get it wrong as they were prone to do.They,d got it wrong on so many occasions that we were hopeful that it will only snow for one day max. I remember one August bank holiday when storm was forecast and I,d decided that I was going to trade at Camden, storm or drought and the storm never came.But damn! the forecasters got it right this time. 3 days before the event,it was still snowing and London,s streets looked as white as The White company,s Linen sheets!.Our worry transcended the students bothering to walk the slippery pavements to patronise the market. We the traders work with various heavy cooking utensils and propane gas that we carried with us.Even I, who rarely cancelled markets was beginning to wonder how to cut my impending costs. Should I go to this Fair ? Should I not? I wrestled with my thoughts and decided to minimise my overhead should the students and staff not bother turning up because of the adverse weather condition. I will not attend with any staff. I shall blackmail my daughter into coming with me!. She wanted a Blackberry that Christmas and that sort of Berry did not grow on trees! I could already here her protest about the freezing conditions and why she couldn,t come along but I was certain that the thought of owning the new phone will trump her fear of working in the snow .
I gave myself 45 minutes to get to UCL on the day of the Fair and hit an almighty traffic jam on the A40. The road was gritted but motorists were being very cautious as every travel update warned us to be wary of black ice. Ingrid rang while I was still stuck in traffic. "Where are you Kiru? Everyone ,s set up and the woman is calling for your blood" "She can have my blood when I get there but till then, I am stuck in traffic." I replied "You are always stuck in traffic" she said sarcasm in her voice. "We didn,t get here by helicopter you know we all had to drive to this place and we all made it in time" "Is it busy then are you selling?"I asked ignoring her lecture. "No and my feet is drenched. The snow has not been cleared where the stalls are set up so that if you are not wearing insulated waterproof shoes , it is really atrocious" I wondered again whether to turn back.My daughter advised that we did but I carried on. I arrived an hour late.
"What time do you call this Ms Cash barked as the security at UCL reluctantly allowed my van through the gates. ".I told her to check her phone as I had left messages for her because I was trapped in traffic.She gave me 10 minutes to unload.
As we unloaded, I gladly noticed that the students were braving the adverse weather and were indeed coming out and queueing up in front of the food stalls and that the Sausage stall especially was very busy. This may yet be worth it I thought.
From the moment I was ready to sell, I had a queue. Now, dear reader, this was how my love affair with UCL began.The weather was nasty and I was late but I was fairly busy regardless.This is the litmus test every seasoned trader set themselves before deciding on continuing to trade at any market. If you break even on a day like this , GRAB that market with both hands . The uni loved my food. I made a mental note to love it back.Now if only Ingrid was having a ball like I was. Ingrid suddenly appearead. I took one look at her face and noted that she wasn,t and her words that followed confirmed it. "I cant believe it Kiru you mean you came late and you got the best spot? You have an almighty queue.! I want to leave now .It is dark where we are.I have only sold 6 portions of Falafel. I wish I hadn,t come. I wanna go home now"! She whined. I couldn,t say anything to her as I was busy attending the queue . Moments after Ingrid walked back to her stall, I could hear her demand a return of her fees from Angela. But I had a different kind of worry;How do I become a regular feature at UCL?
Friday, 13 September 2013
FARA MY OLD FRIEND AND EX STAFF GETS ON MY NERVES
It was a very wintry cold January morning, when I agreed to test drive a neighbours van round the industrial estate where I cooked. I,d lost my van to agents of DVLA last july(more on this at some point in the future).I decided to quickly head to the local Asda .There were loads of bargain to be had probably saving me more money than my local cash and carry on many items. I cut out the engine and decided to start the engine impromptu again and as I revved the engine again and again, I saw from my mirror a woman carrying grocery loose her balance and drop to the ground, her shopping scattering all around her. Another motorist got to her aid before I could. As the motorist helped her up I noticed she looked frail and harassed but her face rekindled a warm memory in me . I soon reconciled the face. It was Fara . We had worked together at my first job as a student in the early nighties. Why? I thought had she not aged into a vintage beauty. She used to be very pretty with huge brown eyes and a mass of unruly curly hair that cascaded down her back. Whatever happened to my old friend I thought. Life must have been cruel to her as she looked a shadow of her old self." Fara you ok? remember me Kiru from St Martins.?"
"I remember you she said" and burst into tears.
We both thanked the good Samaritan and after gathering her groceries, proceeded to Asda,s Cafe so she could recuperate before continuing on her journey home. I found that Fara had been injured somehow at the old factory where we worked by over exposure to freezing working conditions. During our conversation she continued to be very teary and this concerned me." Can I come and work for you"? She asked" I don,t want any payment you can pay me whatever you want I am not greedy." she continued. She laughed when I suggested she might yet regret that no payment offer as January was always the most difficult time for our business in terms of cash flow.
Hastily and forgeting that cardinal rule of business, I offered her a job that I really didn,t have to offer. I hated cleaning and having fired my kitchen assistant on the day I had my baby last year, I had been waiting for business to pick up before hiring another help.
Fara brought Sparkle into my kitchen from the moment she handled the mop head.I didn,t think my good old Cookworks fryer could look any newer. she meticulously and patiently scrubbed new life into old and tired equipments. I was tempted to ring my nemesis at my local environmental health office and invite her for an inspection so I can gloat. She always complained of my unwillingness to throw away old equipments and declutter my unit. But caution reigned over premature exuberance. And rightly so. For of course, though I paid Fara money the company couldn,t really afford ,for Job I needed done, she did not see this as proper work and talked far too much about every single thing relevant,important or not and this of course impacted on my ability to work quickly and efficiently.Yours truly is currently permanently sleep deprived owing to my two beautiful toddlers bless them! Any one who has ever worked with me including and especially the boyfriend knows that I hate being spoken to when I am cooking.How do I get fragile Fara to shut up? Worse still she knew my work time table so that even when I told her that I didn,t need her she would still turn up and help and I would be obliged to pay her.
During that hot spell in June when Londoners advisedly ate little I ceased the opportunity to steel my resolve to gently lay her off. "Fara" I began as she peeled some maris piper with a small pen knife she,d insisted on bringing from home.(she didnt like using potato peelers!) "I think you need to take a break next week. I won,t be working because of the hot spell. We are not making any money at the markets" ." I,d been thinking of setting up my own street food company"! she blurted out in response."Wow that,s that,s brilliant I lied, flabbergasted and genuinely worried for my old friend. "You must tell me what to do , which markets to trial,how much I would need to invest, where to buy my equipments ......." " Enough already Fara THIS job is not easy and I don,t think you are strong enough to take the knocks and grind of this industry" .Despite my best efforts to dissuade her from taking this plunge ,she stuck to her gun so I gave up and cursed the day DVLA impounded my van because the boyfriend forgot to pay the road tax.I would not have test driven my neighbour,s van to Asda and would certainly not have bumped into Fara and would not therefore be party to the impending heartache she will inevitably experience especially with the charlatans that run some of markets she will trial .I arranged for her to take a basic food hygiene course and to obtain public liability insurance and reluctantly gave her details of two starter markets .Two weeks later the daily phone moans began. First it was "How very labour intensive the business was" then it was the shafting of the market organisers,then what did I think about her abandoning her original cuisine and cooking falafels instead?.
Untill further notice, my daughter is under instruction to sweetly dismiss Fara,s calls with "My mum will call you back later" surely my sanity comes before friendship.!
"I remember you she said" and burst into tears.
We both thanked the good Samaritan and after gathering her groceries, proceeded to Asda,s Cafe so she could recuperate before continuing on her journey home. I found that Fara had been injured somehow at the old factory where we worked by over exposure to freezing working conditions. During our conversation she continued to be very teary and this concerned me." Can I come and work for you"? She asked" I don,t want any payment you can pay me whatever you want I am not greedy." she continued. She laughed when I suggested she might yet regret that no payment offer as January was always the most difficult time for our business in terms of cash flow.
Hastily and forgeting that cardinal rule of business, I offered her a job that I really didn,t have to offer. I hated cleaning and having fired my kitchen assistant on the day I had my baby last year, I had been waiting for business to pick up before hiring another help.
Fara brought Sparkle into my kitchen from the moment she handled the mop head.I didn,t think my good old Cookworks fryer could look any newer. she meticulously and patiently scrubbed new life into old and tired equipments. I was tempted to ring my nemesis at my local environmental health office and invite her for an inspection so I can gloat. She always complained of my unwillingness to throw away old equipments and declutter my unit. But caution reigned over premature exuberance. And rightly so. For of course, though I paid Fara money the company couldn,t really afford ,for Job I needed done, she did not see this as proper work and talked far too much about every single thing relevant,important or not and this of course impacted on my ability to work quickly and efficiently.Yours truly is currently permanently sleep deprived owing to my two beautiful toddlers bless them! Any one who has ever worked with me including and especially the boyfriend knows that I hate being spoken to when I am cooking.How do I get fragile Fara to shut up? Worse still she knew my work time table so that even when I told her that I didn,t need her she would still turn up and help and I would be obliged to pay her.
During that hot spell in June when Londoners advisedly ate little I ceased the opportunity to steel my resolve to gently lay her off. "Fara" I began as she peeled some maris piper with a small pen knife she,d insisted on bringing from home.(she didnt like using potato peelers!) "I think you need to take a break next week. I won,t be working because of the hot spell. We are not making any money at the markets" ." I,d been thinking of setting up my own street food company"! she blurted out in response."Wow that,s that,s brilliant I lied, flabbergasted and genuinely worried for my old friend. "You must tell me what to do , which markets to trial,how much I would need to invest, where to buy my equipments ......." " Enough already Fara THIS job is not easy and I don,t think you are strong enough to take the knocks and grind of this industry" .Despite my best efforts to dissuade her from taking this plunge ,she stuck to her gun so I gave up and cursed the day DVLA impounded my van because the boyfriend forgot to pay the road tax.I would not have test driven my neighbour,s van to Asda and would certainly not have bumped into Fara and would not therefore be party to the impending heartache she will inevitably experience especially with the charlatans that run some of markets she will trial .I arranged for her to take a basic food hygiene course and to obtain public liability insurance and reluctantly gave her details of two starter markets .Two weeks later the daily phone moans began. First it was "How very labour intensive the business was" then it was the shafting of the market organisers,then what did I think about her abandoning her original cuisine and cooking falafels instead?.
Untill further notice, my daughter is under instruction to sweetly dismiss Fara,s calls with "My mum will call you back later" surely my sanity comes before friendship.!
Tuesday, 27 August 2013
RE:FIRST CHELSEA FOOTBALL GAME :WE WENT, WE SAW , WE DID NOT CONQUER
So came last Sunday. The long awaited first market organised solely around the hype of up to fifty thousand Chelsea fans. This was going to be the first of many. I expected a massive trader turn out and the desperate traders of London did not disappoint.I will tell you who was there. There were three Jamaican jerk stalls, a Portuguese stall, Two Turkish stalls, one Pastry stall,two fruit juice stalls,one Ghanaian stall,one Thai stall, one Chinese stall, one Chinese stall not selling Chinese food Stall, One Roast Hog Stall, one Sausage/hot dog stall, one Venezuelan stall.There were many more stalls but because I arrived late, I couldn,t really take it all in but the boyfriend had rung me earlier as he went to set up."Guess what Kiru" he had asked? and I hate it when he does that. He is a die hard fault finder."No I am not guessing nothing and I don,t want you dampening my spirits .Whatever you may have found out, we cant back out now we have already paid up" " Listen to this" he continued,ignoring my reply."There are about 20 food stalls here and they include the usual suspects.You know, your friends from some of your previous markets and I have just spoken to a shop keeper and he is staggered that there are so many food stalls here today because we are not in the path of most of the fans" . A swear word involuntarily escaped my lips. He cautioned me.It was too late. I had already prepared food for at least 200 fans. Under normal circumstances this is not a an unachievable target but even Jamie Oliver would struggle to make this sale in an over clogged market with detouring fans.I cursed and uncursed the organizer. Times were hard and just like me, everyone, the market organizer and the vendors alike were all trying to make impossible ends meet.
After our food was displayed, the severity of the disaster that was this market hit me when at 5 pm,about an hour after the game started we had only taken £53 quid! We would be required to start packing up at 7pm! What if this was it? we had paid £80 to be there. My heart sank as I surveyed other traders reactions.One trader bit into his thumb .Another cupped his chin.The Chinese stall holder who was not selling Chinese food made his way towards my stall. "Busy"? He joked. The irony was not lost on me . "Yes too busy that I can,t even talk to you" We both laughed nervously as we both agreed that perhaps we should have done some more research on the route taken by the fans before blindly storming Fulham with so much food.
Half time came and we breathed a sigh of relief as I had a few sales.But then as suddenly as it had begun, the trade stopped when the game resumed. Perhaps there is hope yet I hoped.Then without warning at just before 7, I saw them. A sea of blue shirts of various heights and build flooding towards the square. The boyfriend lit all our stoves and the aroma from the heated food drew the hungry ones to my stall and we began to sell. Long may it continue I prayed.For the next hour we were kept on our toes but at the end of it all, we looked up and around and saw that all the other stalls bar the Turkish had not made any sales.
At 8pm,the Moroccan Cafe owner came over and warned us to bring our own chairs and tables the next time we are back because our customers have been using his and he was not going to tolerate that next time.Shortly after, the market organizer came back and" congratulated" us on being busy.We told him that we did not consider that mini rush that was over in just an hour as busy. Would we like to attend the next game on Wednesday and also, he was organizing a market on a square in Harrow road?. Do we care to come?The boyfriend scowled and said "No Mate" We did not exactly conquer Fulham today did we?
After our food was displayed, the severity of the disaster that was this market hit me when at 5 pm,about an hour after the game started we had only taken £53 quid! We would be required to start packing up at 7pm! What if this was it? we had paid £80 to be there. My heart sank as I surveyed other traders reactions.One trader bit into his thumb .Another cupped his chin.The Chinese stall holder who was not selling Chinese food made his way towards my stall. "Busy"? He joked. The irony was not lost on me . "Yes too busy that I can,t even talk to you" We both laughed nervously as we both agreed that perhaps we should have done some more research on the route taken by the fans before blindly storming Fulham with so much food.
Half time came and we breathed a sigh of relief as I had a few sales.But then as suddenly as it had begun, the trade stopped when the game resumed. Perhaps there is hope yet I hoped.Then without warning at just before 7, I saw them. A sea of blue shirts of various heights and build flooding towards the square. The boyfriend lit all our stoves and the aroma from the heated food drew the hungry ones to my stall and we began to sell. Long may it continue I prayed.For the next hour we were kept on our toes but at the end of it all, we looked up and around and saw that all the other stalls bar the Turkish had not made any sales.
At 8pm,the Moroccan Cafe owner came over and warned us to bring our own chairs and tables the next time we are back because our customers have been using his and he was not going to tolerate that next time.Shortly after, the market organizer came back and" congratulated" us on being busy.We told him that we did not consider that mini rush that was over in just an hour as busy. Would we like to attend the next game on Wednesday and also, he was organizing a market on a square in Harrow road?. Do we care to come?The boyfriend scowled and said "No Mate" We did not exactly conquer Fulham today did we?
Wednesday, 14 August 2013
I PICK A BONE WITH THE BUTCHER
The phone rang startling me back to reality as I contemplated my predicament. I had just realized that the cheque I had written for the butcher earlier that morning may not be honoured. I had made an unnecessary purchase for the business the day before.I had gone on a compulsive -plum tomato-buying- spree.I thought it was too good to be true- I,d seen 14 boxes of fresh plum tomatoes being offered at a farmers market for a third of what they,d normally cost and when I found it was no gimmick, I,d bought the whole lot of them without thinking and now I have gone slightly over the allowed overdraft limit . That cheque WILL not be paid.My heart sank at the prospect of that happening. Robert the butcher will kill me. Praise to where it is due,my bank has been magnanimous since the recession. They have accepted to honour cheques when there have been insufficient funds in the account in so far as the agreed sum will be debited into the account within 24 hours of the cheque clearing.But there was no such grand plan of that happening tomorrow. I had no markets until friday . It was a wednesday. What,s a girl to do now? I worried.
"Kiru"? the voice at the other end inquired. "Yes" I answered.
"Robert,s been cheating you he,s been charging you an extra pound per kilo for the meat and chicken and sometimes we have delivered less meat and chicken than your order"
"For how long has this been going on and why now? why are you telling me this now"? I countered. recognizing the voice . It was Stuart, the youthful butcher,s assistant at my butcher,s. "You see I am leaving him soon so either way I have nothing to loose or gain but I thought you should know" My mouth turned dry with anger.Robert was not beyond reproach. On a few occasions when we have disagreed and I have gone to another butcher,I got a larger quantity than I would normally get from Robert for a similar order. But if I had an unexpected order for catering, Robert trumps any other butcher I know in terms of stock availability and prompt delivery .I also do not operate with a written list with my orders.It is not done in a methodical way . I keep it all in my head. . I have been known to wake him up in the middle of the night to amend my order!so that upsetting as this piece of information was, it could not have come at a better time for my predicament. I sighed with relief.The universe was looking out for me. I was going to milk this piece of news for all it is worth in terms of buying me more time to do some more catering and put more funds in the account before that cheque is paid in.I thanked Stuart and hung up.
I dialled Robert,s number. "Hello Trouble" he said. Don,t tell me you want more meat" . He joked."No I don,t " I replied angry that he could cheat on my orders and still feel no qualms about cracking jokes with me." Robert" I called clearing my throat "you have been cheating on my orders" "Don,t talk rubbish" He said. Who told you that"?" I weighed the meat and I am about 7 kilos short on what I ordered." "But you don,t have a weighing machine in your unit Kiru so how can you come to that conclusion" He fired back at me."What makes you think I don,t have a weighing machine" I asked. "Cos I know every equipment in your unit" he then proceeded to mention them one after another ;"one heavy duty microwave, two Williams freezers, one chest Freezer ".." Stop" I reprimanded him getting really wound up now that he thinks I have no proof and not wanting to reveal who my informant was.This wasn,t going as smoothly as I thought it might. I must have the upper hand I thought. I am the one who has been wronged. I am the customer and the customer is always right. I have to hit the nail on the head and tell him exactly how I want this issue to be resolved though I am not sure that I can trust him again or whether I will continue to buy from him. "Listen Robert " I said,my voice an octave higher than normal .I think this has been going on for a long time and that now you,ve been found out I must be compensated.Let,s start with the cheque I gave you this morning. I have now cancelled it. You must go back and revise the bill and come back to me with an offer as to how I am to be compensated."don,t cancel the cheque I will give you credit of some sort for your order next week" I told him there was not going to be any further order and that I cannot trust him anymore. He then seemed subdued and said he wanted to come and see me in my unit.
Two hours later, he arrived at the unit bearing two square shaped cardboard boxes containing raw meat."There" he said as he dropped them on my work top. I am sorry if you think I have cheated you . "You can come and talk to Stuart and the other guys and they,ll confirm that nothing like that is going on"...... Seems like I have to oust Stuart to get a confession from Robert but in the meantime I have a few days grace to worry about a probably reduced figure cheque!
"Kiru"? the voice at the other end inquired. "Yes" I answered.
"Robert,s been cheating you he,s been charging you an extra pound per kilo for the meat and chicken and sometimes we have delivered less meat and chicken than your order"
"For how long has this been going on and why now? why are you telling me this now"? I countered. recognizing the voice . It was Stuart, the youthful butcher,s assistant at my butcher,s. "You see I am leaving him soon so either way I have nothing to loose or gain but I thought you should know" My mouth turned dry with anger.Robert was not beyond reproach. On a few occasions when we have disagreed and I have gone to another butcher,I got a larger quantity than I would normally get from Robert for a similar order. But if I had an unexpected order for catering, Robert trumps any other butcher I know in terms of stock availability and prompt delivery .I also do not operate with a written list with my orders.It is not done in a methodical way . I keep it all in my head. . I have been known to wake him up in the middle of the night to amend my order!so that upsetting as this piece of information was, it could not have come at a better time for my predicament. I sighed with relief.The universe was looking out for me. I was going to milk this piece of news for all it is worth in terms of buying me more time to do some more catering and put more funds in the account before that cheque is paid in.I thanked Stuart and hung up.
I dialled Robert,s number. "Hello Trouble" he said. Don,t tell me you want more meat" . He joked."No I don,t " I replied angry that he could cheat on my orders and still feel no qualms about cracking jokes with me." Robert" I called clearing my throat "you have been cheating on my orders" "Don,t talk rubbish" He said. Who told you that"?" I weighed the meat and I am about 7 kilos short on what I ordered." "But you don,t have a weighing machine in your unit Kiru so how can you come to that conclusion" He fired back at me."What makes you think I don,t have a weighing machine" I asked. "Cos I know every equipment in your unit" he then proceeded to mention them one after another ;"one heavy duty microwave, two Williams freezers, one chest Freezer ".." Stop" I reprimanded him getting really wound up now that he thinks I have no proof and not wanting to reveal who my informant was.This wasn,t going as smoothly as I thought it might. I must have the upper hand I thought. I am the one who has been wronged. I am the customer and the customer is always right. I have to hit the nail on the head and tell him exactly how I want this issue to be resolved though I am not sure that I can trust him again or whether I will continue to buy from him. "Listen Robert " I said,my voice an octave higher than normal .I think this has been going on for a long time and that now you,ve been found out I must be compensated.Let,s start with the cheque I gave you this morning. I have now cancelled it. You must go back and revise the bill and come back to me with an offer as to how I am to be compensated."don,t cancel the cheque I will give you credit of some sort for your order next week" I told him there was not going to be any further order and that I cannot trust him anymore. He then seemed subdued and said he wanted to come and see me in my unit.
Two hours later, he arrived at the unit bearing two square shaped cardboard boxes containing raw meat."There" he said as he dropped them on my work top. I am sorry if you think I have cheated you . "You can come and talk to Stuart and the other guys and they,ll confirm that nothing like that is going on"...... Seems like I have to oust Stuart to get a confession from Robert but in the meantime I have a few days grace to worry about a probably reduced figure cheque!
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
BRING BACK THE OLYMPICS AND MY POLISH BULWARK
I remember with nostalgia ,the London Olympics. It held so much promise to many a street trader. Some traders paid a handsome amount of money for trade that never materialized whilst some paid very little and got very lucky indeed with unplanned windfall of trade.And others like myself who could have been luckier,blew a chance of a lifetime because of lack of planning . .What will be nice though, is a return once more to the beginning of last year.There are a few things I would do differently and following which I am sure,I will not be moaning about Street trade today.
First,I hunger for and seek the return of my best staff in the whole wide world by the name of Yakub who returned to Poland two years ago and whom I think never came back to London. Spiros , a Greek guy who spoke absolutely no English but who was a fantastic worker had just gone back to Greece.I needed another Spiros or better. The Job was labour intensive and I needed someone who was Strong and who could pretend it was a gym session! After so many rejections , I took to humming the hymn "Jerusalem" hoping for divine intervention in finding a suitable staff. Then came Yakub.Yakub was a strapping 7 foot of lean power house. A can do giant of a man who performed every task efficiently and with the speed of lightening. He also had the best work ethic. It was in 2005 and I was a trader in Camden market. Himself and another guy were introduced to me at the same time in response to my ad for a replacement for Spiros. I gave both men chores to do whilst I disappeared from view.With a cigarette dangling from his lips, I watched in pleasant disbelief as his massive hands speedily lifted and cleaned and loaded. I offered him the job on the spot and as a business , I can comfortably say that he was one of the smartest decisions, I had ever made. Such was his competence that during the events of July 7th when transportation and movement was curtailed,he ingeniously found his way to work, and cooked every dish on our menu.He had never cooked them before and had only watched me prepare them! From then on, there was nothing I could not delegate to him. My Japanese neighbour ,enviuos of my find, resorted to currying favour with him with breakfast every Saturday morning. He would drag her boxes and mine from the storage rooms with so much ease you,d be forgiven to think they were featherweight . In fact they weighed tonnes. He repaired electrical malfunctions,tiled the kitchen,fixed plumbing leaks,drove the van ,fixed jubilee clips to gas bottles,smiled,told me off if I was late to arrive at the market and was good with customers. With him I feared no catering challenges and most importantly, I never did any washing up- which I detest..Since he left, there has been no staff like him and my lateness at events has become even more pronounced. Lately, "Jerusalem" has been playing in my head.Something tells me Yakub will return to London soon. God knows I need his help badly.
Power of positive thinking says Yakub is on his way, so I will be able to deliver a stellar performance at any accruing festival from the Olympics. I therefore make bold to write the wonderful Julia whom I so let down by my lateness at her premier event last year but who was gracious to the end;
Dear Julia, thanks once again for giving me this second opportunity. I am sorry that my team was 4 hours late at last year,s event and I do apologise for the shock you must have experienced as I barked at you to hang up on the phone as my thinking was fuddled by the pain of child labour. Yes! that was not a story I made up.My beautiful daughter chose the day of your event to pop out. I did not tell you I was heavily pregnant when you first made contact because we desperately needed the money as I had lost nearly all my markets.I knew from the way that child kicked and somersaulted in my stomach that she was going to pull a fast one!. I cajoled and sang to her and even began to gulp copious amount of tamarind juice 2 weeks before to effect a quicker arrival but she chose not to come out!. So again I was having her when you rang!I promise you that there will be no such drama this year.Believe me when I say that my stall will be the very first to set up. Permit me to introduce you to my secret weapon this time-Yakub. Kind Regards.
Kiru.
First,I hunger for and seek the return of my best staff in the whole wide world by the name of Yakub who returned to Poland two years ago and whom I think never came back to London. Spiros , a Greek guy who spoke absolutely no English but who was a fantastic worker had just gone back to Greece.I needed another Spiros or better. The Job was labour intensive and I needed someone who was Strong and who could pretend it was a gym session! After so many rejections , I took to humming the hymn "Jerusalem" hoping for divine intervention in finding a suitable staff. Then came Yakub.Yakub was a strapping 7 foot of lean power house. A can do giant of a man who performed every task efficiently and with the speed of lightening. He also had the best work ethic. It was in 2005 and I was a trader in Camden market. Himself and another guy were introduced to me at the same time in response to my ad for a replacement for Spiros. I gave both men chores to do whilst I disappeared from view.With a cigarette dangling from his lips, I watched in pleasant disbelief as his massive hands speedily lifted and cleaned and loaded. I offered him the job on the spot and as a business , I can comfortably say that he was one of the smartest decisions, I had ever made. Such was his competence that during the events of July 7th when transportation and movement was curtailed,he ingeniously found his way to work, and cooked every dish on our menu.He had never cooked them before and had only watched me prepare them! From then on, there was nothing I could not delegate to him. My Japanese neighbour ,enviuos of my find, resorted to currying favour with him with breakfast every Saturday morning. He would drag her boxes and mine from the storage rooms with so much ease you,d be forgiven to think they were featherweight . In fact they weighed tonnes. He repaired electrical malfunctions,tiled the kitchen,fixed plumbing leaks,drove the van ,fixed jubilee clips to gas bottles,smiled,told me off if I was late to arrive at the market and was good with customers. With him I feared no catering challenges and most importantly, I never did any washing up- which I detest..Since he left, there has been no staff like him and my lateness at events has become even more pronounced. Lately, "Jerusalem" has been playing in my head.Something tells me Yakub will return to London soon. God knows I need his help badly.
Power of positive thinking says Yakub is on his way, so I will be able to deliver a stellar performance at any accruing festival from the Olympics. I therefore make bold to write the wonderful Julia whom I so let down by my lateness at her premier event last year but who was gracious to the end;
Dear Julia, thanks once again for giving me this second opportunity. I am sorry that my team was 4 hours late at last year,s event and I do apologise for the shock you must have experienced as I barked at you to hang up on the phone as my thinking was fuddled by the pain of child labour. Yes! that was not a story I made up.My beautiful daughter chose the day of your event to pop out. I did not tell you I was heavily pregnant when you first made contact because we desperately needed the money as I had lost nearly all my markets.I knew from the way that child kicked and somersaulted in my stomach that she was going to pull a fast one!. I cajoled and sang to her and even began to gulp copious amount of tamarind juice 2 weeks before to effect a quicker arrival but she chose not to come out!. So again I was having her when you rang!I promise you that there will be no such drama this year.Believe me when I say that my stall will be the very first to set up. Permit me to introduce you to my secret weapon this time-Yakub. Kind Regards.
Kiru.
Saturday, 3 August 2013
THE RISE OF THE 15% BRIGADE
I abandoned plans to trade at a night market in a Shoreditch car Park last Saturday because I am quietly protesting the advent of what I find is an erosion of complete autonomy from street food traders by the new generation of market organizers. I find this phase of my Street trading life rather educational because when I had the misplaced security of the two major markets I traded at, I thought that their management styles were oppressive but in terms of greed , this new breed wins the trio of gold, silver and bronze. half of the time, they do not have a clue what they are doing. They have chanced upon street trade organizing from various backgrounds and have decided for themselves that the quickest route to make money is through a percentage cut of their stallholders takings.By my calculations, If I had done that market, on the rainy night that it was, after paying the 15% charge I would have been lucky to break even.But what is the point protesting if this new levy is not being challenged by anyone else? You get marked as a trouble maker whilst the passive lot get all the juicy markets or gigs or festivals and you don,t even get a look in.
This leads me to the main problem with street trading. It is a frighteningly unregulated battlefield unless it is run by a local authority.Council run markets are generally not run on prime sites and there is not normally a will to properly advertise them enough to draw in buying crowds.The Local authorities health and Safety team will always look after the food you sell to the public but no one looks after you as a trader! What we need is an association with teeth that can bite! Perhaps I will start one. On second thought, I now have become paperwork lazy. I nearly used the word phobia. That is what doing too much cooking does to you. It has become even more necessary to regulate the treatment of street food traders by market organizers especially since the recession. On almost every street corner in London, you will find anyone, sometimes with just a tiny stove with an open fire and a frying pan selling "street food", What isdisturbing is that more often than not , they have been tutored in "Street food trading " by this new generation market organizers who also masquerade as street trading consultants. How do you consult not from years of experience selling food to the public but from method statements from the traders on your list.! Make no mistake, these new breed are usually very internet savvy and can twitter and facebook and do the rest of them,they can of course garner an eating and drinking crowd. Youngish-Eating-Drinking types in Street food land =A sell out food stall. So you see , if you can get the crowd to follow you, any street trader and aspiring ones will sell their last paella to follow you and your tutorship even if you are teaching half -cooked rubbish! Most Traders are averse to too much paper work. The reason for this is two fold. 1.If they have come into street trading from office work, they want to keep well away from any kind of paper work.2. English is not the first Language of most street food hawkers therefore, doing paperwork is to them like pulling teeth. So, how can these new generation market organisers tutor in Street trading? They can because the experienced traders are not doing it and there is no credible association. At an Olympic fest last year ,one of these new breed organizers offered to help us manage our queue by collecting the money for us.The boyfriend thanked her no. That promptly put an end to further trading opportunities with her.
Why should any trader have to pay for a space twice? Why should any trader have to pay a fee to rent a space from an organizer and also reveal the details of her takings to the same organizer by giving him/her 15% of her takings? The operative word here is takings. The trader will have spent good money on the ingredients and all the other overheads Nowadays you,d be lucky to make up to 40% in profit after expenses and overhead. Where is the autonomy in running your own business when you have to declare your earning to a market organizer? Did I tell you dear Blog that I have run markets in the past? Well, if my toddlers allowed me enough sleep I might just go back to it in a jiffy. I would run a pure and fair market and an association and a tutorial for the newly initiated traders....ouch! my head hurts already!
This leads me to the main problem with street trading. It is a frighteningly unregulated battlefield unless it is run by a local authority.Council run markets are generally not run on prime sites and there is not normally a will to properly advertise them enough to draw in buying crowds.The Local authorities health and Safety team will always look after the food you sell to the public but no one looks after you as a trader! What we need is an association with teeth that can bite! Perhaps I will start one. On second thought, I now have become paperwork lazy. I nearly used the word phobia. That is what doing too much cooking does to you. It has become even more necessary to regulate the treatment of street food traders by market organizers especially since the recession. On almost every street corner in London, you will find anyone, sometimes with just a tiny stove with an open fire and a frying pan selling "street food", What isdisturbing is that more often than not , they have been tutored in "Street food trading " by this new generation market organizers who also masquerade as street trading consultants. How do you consult not from years of experience selling food to the public but from method statements from the traders on your list.! Make no mistake, these new breed are usually very internet savvy and can twitter and facebook and do the rest of them,they can of course garner an eating and drinking crowd. Youngish-Eating-Drinking types in Street food land =A sell out food stall. So you see , if you can get the crowd to follow you, any street trader and aspiring ones will sell their last paella to follow you and your tutorship even if you are teaching half -cooked rubbish! Most Traders are averse to too much paper work. The reason for this is two fold. 1.If they have come into street trading from office work, they want to keep well away from any kind of paper work.2. English is not the first Language of most street food hawkers therefore, doing paperwork is to them like pulling teeth. So, how can these new generation market organisers tutor in Street trading? They can because the experienced traders are not doing it and there is no credible association. At an Olympic fest last year ,one of these new breed organizers offered to help us manage our queue by collecting the money for us.The boyfriend thanked her no. That promptly put an end to further trading opportunities with her.
Why should any trader have to pay for a space twice? Why should any trader have to pay a fee to rent a space from an organizer and also reveal the details of her takings to the same organizer by giving him/her 15% of her takings? The operative word here is takings. The trader will have spent good money on the ingredients and all the other overheads Nowadays you,d be lucky to make up to 40% in profit after expenses and overhead. Where is the autonomy in running your own business when you have to declare your earning to a market organizer? Did I tell you dear Blog that I have run markets in the past? Well, if my toddlers allowed me enough sleep I might just go back to it in a jiffy. I would run a pure and fair market and an association and a tutorial for the newly initiated traders....ouch! my head hurts already!
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