Life On The Restaurant Floor

“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel” — Maya Angelou

A Reflection From One of Our Team
By Molly

More Than a Saturday Job
According to The Morning Advertiser, half of British teenagers wouldn’t consider a career in hospitality. I’ve spent the past four years working front-of-house at The Cartford Inn — and I’d gently suggest they think again.

Yes, there are moments of stress. You might get glowing praise from one table and a baffling complaint from the next. But what I’ve gained here goes far beyond pocket money or passing time.

Confidence, Community, and a Bit of Chaos
This job has taught me patience, confidence, and the kind of people skills you only get by being around… well, people. I’ve made real friends — both among the team and on the floor. And I’ve become part of a place that values its staff just as much as its food.

You’re not just another cog in the machine here. Regulars learn your name, ask about your life, and genuinely care. There’s a quiet sense of community at The Cartford that feels rare — and real.

The Shift Begins
A good shift starts with a clean apron and a walk through the garden. In summer, it’s alive with voices; in winter, it’s gently lit and still. Inside, the inn is full of energy — the buzz of regulars, the excitement of newcomers, the familiar chatter from the bar, and the hum of the kitchen in full flow.

It’s never the same twice. And that’s part of the appeal.

Front of House: The Real Hosts
Yes, the kitchen creates the dish — but front-of-house delivers the experience. That means knowing when to guide and when to step back, remembering who loves a certain wine, and offering the kind of small talk that actually makes someone feel welcome.

You can serve something perfect, but if it’s dropped at the table without warmth or care, it lands flat.

Mistakes Happen. So Does Growth.
Of course, things go wrong. A dropped plate, a missed order, an incident involving calamari sauce and someone’s cream chinos (I’ve blocked out the details). But that’s part of the job too.

You apologise, fix it, and move on — ideally with more care and fewer spillages.

The Human Side of Hospitality
What I’ve come to appreciate most is how this job trains you to read people. You learn to clock moods, anticipate needs, and respond accordingly. Some guests want a chat. Some want space. Some just need to feel seen.

You’re there for celebrations, big and small. For the quiet moments too. Hospitality is, at its heart, a front-row seat to life.

Still Learning, Still Loving It
People come and go, but the care we bring to the job doesn’t. It’s not just about plates and timing — it’s about connection.

I’m grateful for everything I’ve learned here. And I wouldn’t change a thing.

— Molly
P.S. Fancy a look at the dessert menu?