In khaki shorts
Building a business takes time. Some people appear to succeed in doing it very quickly - maybe their brains work faster or they think for longer, successfully cramming more into a day than I do. We were fortunate with Discovery Foods, entering the Mexican market fray at a time when interest in ethnic food was growing, cooking sauces in jars were launched and the great British public began to increasingly look at "going abroad" for their holidays - consequently becoming more susceptible to trying something slightly different. Break-the-mould restaurant chains were springing up, first with Bob Peyton's My Kinda Town restaurants like the Chicago Rib Shack, and TGI Fridays, which wowed the restaurant world with their zany, badge- bedecked "personality" waiters, super friendly service and sense of theatre. These were happy days for a company selling tortillas, chips and salsa, jalapeno peppers and the like.
We suffered small inconveniences, like very limited distribution
of our products in supermarkets - and the daily struggle to get our
products to restaurants, because catering wholesalers were very
wary of these new, not understood products, and were reluctant to
stock them. For most of the accounts we approached, we had to spend
many months in the education business - sampling, teaching and
demonstrating, before we could make major sales.
It is fun reminiscing with long-serving staff members about the
amusing and curious incidents that occurred along the way. One year
at the Brighton Fast Food Show a Discovery colleague, dressed in
pith helmet and khakis, joined "The Green Goddess" (the lithesome
gym instructor who then graced breakfast TV), for a workout outside
The Grand Hotel to promote the show. Still panting from the
exertion, he returned to the exhibition and went to change out of
his gear in the minute storage room to the side of our stand.
Accompanied by a visiting Frenchman who wanted to see some frozen samples, I entered the little room to find the heavily breathing Bob, bending over with his trousers around his ankles as he tried to get them over his shoes. Our French visitor asked; "What is going on.?" in that voice that only the French can muster. To which I replied; "Don't mind Bob, he's still making burritos." Needless to say, the Frenchman never did become a customer and rumour has it that he still dines out in his homeland by telling bemused stories about the eccentricities of the English.






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