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Phil Bell was born in 1949 in the Ancoats district of Manchester.
My grandfather was the head cellar man at the Café Royale, Peter Street. It was the premier restaurant in Manchester after the Midland Hotels French Room.
He used to take me to the restaurant on a regular basis during school holidays, any journey was an expedition when you are young, and can be retold to all your pals in the air-raid shelter at the bottom of the garden.
He would show me how he decanted the vintage port, stored the wine, tapped the barrels, cleaned the pumps, and how to set traps for the mice. He was a well liked and a well respected man my granddad.
I got to know the chefs, the headwaiter and the cleaners in fact all the personnel acknowledged me. They would be busy preparing all kinds of food. All kinds of new fare entered my food chain. I had tasted food no one had heard of before, frog's legs, caviar and garlic whilst in my infancy although egg and chips was the norm.
If there had been a function at night, and granddad was working, all the food that was left over was shared between the staff. Consequently I sometimes had chicken legs or drumsticks for my breakfast or French toast for lunch with petite fours for afters.
One day my teacher at school, Miss Jones, asked to see my mam. My grandma went in her place because mam was working. Miss Jones asked my grandma to look at my schoolbook and asked if I had a vivid imagination.
'See what Philip has written here - This morning for breakfast I had chicken drum sticks, a bit of French toast and some caviar!' she recited from my book. Miss Jones then stood open mouthed as my grandma replied 'He doesn't have that every morning, only now and again!'
Phil Bell, Greater Manchester, 2001
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