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My husband and I were trying out a new chef at the hotel; he was going to be cooking over a 2-day weekend for us. We had a group of forty Romanians, a tour guide and the coach driver. All was going well and he seemed to know what he was doing. On the Saturday evening we had orders for 2 vegetarian dinners and the rest for chicken dinners.
The guests were all seated in the dining room ready for their meal. They had been on a day trip to Tobermory. After they had been served their starters, of pate and oat crackers, they were all more than ready for the main course.
Myself and two waiting staff were at the pass in the kitchen waiting for the chef to serve. He gave us the two vegetarian plates then started to serve up the chicken dishes. Earlier in the day he had explained how he would be cooking the chicken, poaching it in some lovely vegetable stock he had made. What he didn’t tell us was the stock was made from red cabbage. So, as he was plating up the food I was shocked to see that the chicken was purple. As it was being served alongside mash, carrots, peas and sweetcorn it was a riot of colours on the plates. No-one said a word as none of us could believe what we were seeing. Purple chicken! There was nothing we could do but serve it, so we did. The tour guide called me over once everyone was served and asked me about the chicken. Why it was purple? I told her it was Balamory chicken! After a few seconds she stood up and told her group what I had said and everyone tucked in.