Hospital Gourmet Delights

[dotti34]

Just having ‘endured’ a week of hospital food, it would be interesting to hear comments of other people’s experiences. I expect there will be some amusing stories to tell. I have also written a blog about this subject.

[cashman]

cant really comment dotti aint stayed in hospital for oer 40 years so cannot remember the grub or what i went in for.

[Margaret Pilkington]

40 years ago the food was good.
It was cooked on the premises by hospital chefs and as I walked into the hospital for a late duty, I had to pass the kitchens....you could smell the cakes baking.
Then, the nurses would serve afternoon tea at about 3pm.....ok, it was rounds of vrread and butter with jam, but there was a different cake each day.
The almond slice was to die for, as was the lemon curd Swiss roll.
I never was fond of scones, but they were always well liked....and there were never any left.

The rot set in when hospitals tendered for outside firms to supply meals.
I cannot think of anything good to say about them.
Not that I have had to eat any recently, but my daughter has...if you like yoghurt you are alright.
I know they have to cater for a lot of people and that this has to be done within cost parameters, but a good recovery relies on quality,tasty, acceptable food being available...food that teases the eye the nose and lastly the palate.

[monkey hanger]

i went into a private hospital for a minor op about 25 years ago. only had one meal but with that and the bed i layed in i wouldn,t have minded a weeks holiday there with full board.

[Margaret Pilkington]

A couple of years ago I needed to have some minor surgery(although no surgery is minor when it is YOU under the knife).
The surgery was delicate and took two and a bit hours.....even though I was having local anaesthetic I was told not to eat anything from the previous evening(just in cas general was needed).
When all was finished I returned to the ward and was offered food.....I had a vast choice.
A sandwich....I could have tuna and sweet corn....or tuna and mayo, or I could have plastic cheese and anaemic tomato.
I cannot eat tuna and I did not fancy(or was not hungry enough) the plastic cheese.
I asked if there was anything else.....I was offered a pack of custard cream biscuits....two biscuits....all for me.
I opted for these, with a sweet coffee....telling myself that although this was not nutritionally satisfactory....I could eat something good when I got home...and I had to eat something before they would let me home.

We called at the chippy on the way home...it was shut.

[pifco]

In early 1972 I spent 5 weeks in BRI and I found the food pretty good and the only complaint I heard whilst I was in was by an old man who had been flat on his back for 3 weeks and therefore he had to be on a "soft diet" which seemed to be mainly mashed potato. He never complained all the time he was on his back but he did complain when, on the day he was allowed to sit up and the meal served that day was cottage pie "I've eaten nowt but that for the past 3 weeks" The rest of us in the ward couldn't help but laugh.

[Margaret Pilkington]

That was when I first started my training....and the food was made on the premises.....and was good.

When we had handed out the afternoon tea we always hoped there would be cake left.
We would take it in turns to retire to the comfort of a full laundry bag with a slice of cake and a cup of tea so strong a mouse could tap dance on it.
Heaven...especially if it was Almond slice!

[taddy]

Originally Posted by pifco

In early 1972 I spent 5 weeks in BRI and I found the food pretty good and the only complaint I heard whilst I was in was by an old man who had been flat on his back for 3 weeks and therefore he had to be on a "soft diet" which seemed to be mainly mashed potato. He never complained all the time he was on his back but he did complain when, on the day he was allowed to sit up and the meal served that day was cottage pie "I've eaten nowt but that for the past 3 weeks" The rest of us in the ward couldn't help but laugh.

A similar thing happened when I was in "The New Wing" at B.R.I. in the late sixties, early seventies, there was a comical old gent in the opposite bed to me,
When his family came at visiting time, they presented him with a lovelly bunch of flowers,"here you are we have brought these to cheer you up Grandad" they said. "Bin better if thad brout somat to eight, I cant eight flowers was the reply.

[taddy]

Whilst we are on the subject of hospital food, one of my drinking buddies,(pre lockdown of course); used to be a Chef, (or a stipendary cook) as I refer to these over rated meal makers.I have an idea that Margaret may know him, I shall just use the initials A.U. as I don't want to name or embarrass my pal.

[Margaret Pilkington]

Taddy, I did not know the chef(or cooks) at the Royal or at QPH(as a student my time was between both these hospitals)...I only know the delights of the stuff they cooked.
All the patients raved about the porridge....they said it was lovely and creamy(I have never been a fan of porridge).
The cabinet pudding was delicious...and I woul forego a main course and just have that when it was on the menu in the staff dining room.
Whatever the patients were served was usually what was being served for staff too.

Back then the food was very good....bacon and tomatoes for breakfast, poached egg, scrambled egg was a gamble(we actually called it 'gambled egg') if you were close the kitchen and on a first delivery it was ok, but the further away you were and the rubbery the eggs became.
Ward 7 at the top of the 'new wing' was somewhere you would not get good 'gambled eggs.'

[taddy]

Originally Posted by taddy

Whilst we are on the subject of hospital food, one of my drinking buddies,(pre lockdown of course); used to be a Chef, (or a stipendary cook) as I refer to these over rated meal makers.I have an idea that Margaret may know him, I shall just use the initials A.U. as I don't want to name or embarrass my pal.

Sorry Marge I forgot to say that my drinking buddy, (see above), was one of the Chefs at Accrington Victoria Hospital for thirty or so years, at the time of Sister Heys on MM4 and Sister Finch on MS2, just a thought that maybe you had tasted some of his delicacies.
As you have already stated the hospital food in those days was good stuff, after eating it for over six months I had no complaints at all.

[taddy]

Ward seven was the ward that I was in, the window next to my bed overlooked the canal.

[Margaret Pilkington]

I did not work at AVH....students were not sent there, we were allocated to wards at the Royal or Queens Park.
I liked Queens Park, even though the buildings were old, the staff were friendlier.
The food was good in both hospitals, probably because the food was prepared and made on the premises.
I remember looking after a pregnant lady who had a craving for raw, unpeeled carrots.
I could go down to the kitchen and get them for her.
I don't think that would be possible now..

When the kitchens were baking the Christmas cakes for the wards they used to,send the off cuts, the crispy ends to the wards for the nurses to eat(this was at QPH) yum...lovely.

[Margaret Pilkington]

Originally Posted by taddy

Ward seven was the ward that I was in, the window next to my bed overlooked the canal.

I liked working on ward 7...I did both days and nights on there.
Three months near the end of my training. It gave me a lot of confidence.

[skuta]

Well, where to start with this? I have spent the last 2 years in some form of “care” after surviving a Stroke. Initially at Blackburn Hospital where the ambulance took me and where I waited 6 hours or more in A&E where self-important staff did nothing for me until I went to a ward. So much for a Stroke being serious. They clearly demonstrated their complete ignorance of blood anti-coagulants.

On the ward at Blackburn the food can simply be described as all very plain and cheap. It filled you up somewhat. I can’t say anything was delicious. Most things hardly tasted of anything at all. So much so, I can not remember anything about it as notable. Except only one Nurse had the common sense to give me water through my nasal tube. Everyone else gave me nothing except a blood pressure monitoring result when I wasn’t even on the ward. They were good at falsifying legal care records.

Then I got transferred to Nelson “Hospital” which looked like an 80’s hotel and seemed entirely deserted. They had nothing there at the time. I couldn’t even buy anything to read. No newspapers, coffee, nothing. Again, the food was unremarkable though we were served plenty of it. In general, better than Blackburn in my opinion.

I broke my hip at Nelson as detailed as their fault in the Root Cause Analysis Report they cobbled together and came back to Blackburn for more of the same. That’s where I enjoyed the magic of a second Stroke and left unable to speak or swallow as well as being totally crippled and unable to walk.

Then came the Rakehead experience (the specialist rehabilitation unit of Burnley General), which seemed like a totally different world compared to the usual ward regimes. There the food was delivered and not bad in general. You could even order in take-away delivery and have beer if it didn’t conflict with medication. You had to organise and pay for everything yourself of course. It seemed like people were only paid to show up, not really do anything that actually helped you. That’s another huge different story.

At this time I became introduced to the delights of pureed food as I was weaned off feeding with what appeared as anonymous slop through a tube in my nose. This was dreadful. You had a “meat/protein”, “potato” & “vegetable” component comprising your meal.. None of the meals tasted of anything. All taste & nutrition seemingly removed. Not recommended. Some guy-patient was kicking off about his food, and seemed determined to make something of it.

A ward meeting was held with various ward staff and a low-ranked representative of the catering contractor. As the meeting started and I learned the representative wasn’t even management who had any choice or control over anything his Employer supplied. I immediately walked out, in the knowledge nothing will happen (& as predicted it didn’t), because we were meeting with the wrong person who couldn’t make any difference even if he wanted to. He had zero authority.

One of my meals had a very strange colour. I wasn’t sure if it was even real food. When I asked what it is, I got told eventually“Chicken” (everything happens slowly in Hospital) . It was nothing like Chicken, so that went in the bin.

This is the end of some highlights of my hospital stay, there is loads of little horror stories and I am trying to stop this turning into a huge novel. If you’re still awake this next bit is about the old people’s home I ended up in (many residents had some stage of dementia).

The NHS dumped me here to store me off of the wards whilst I looked for somewhere else to live after Occupational Therapy made me homeless by deciding the flat where I lived isn’t suitable for a wheelchair. With no help from anybody of course. They couldn’t get me off of the ward fast enough. They said it was only “temporary”. On which planet?

The Home where I was supposed to receive “care” (I didn’t. I was on my own again), was allegedly the “best in it’s area” according to the mythical rumour circulating among staff spreading this lie. No evidence could be found. And I searched. No certificates, trophies, medallions, news pieces, press releases, photo’s, company website bragging articles, nothing. My conclusion: This is total fiction. Least worst in it’s area, more like. And that’s only an opinion based on no real facts.

Their so-called “Chef” (actually a 3rd rate commis chef at best), was embarrassingly bad. A guy who clearly demonstrated his fantasy of him being a stand-up comedian by the way he cringingly flirted with the old ladies in his desperately un-funny manner.

He never came near me for my honest opinions of his his soft, tasteless slop that was passed-off as “food”. On his days off his completely unskilled Kitchen-Assistant magically transformed into his replacement “Chef”. What a joke! He couldn’t even fry a medium egg. They all were over-cooked and tasteless.

The food was all cheap, garbage comfort food with a signature dish of very bland “Corned-Beef Hash” looking a lot like diarrea. Their favourite cheap-meal is Soup & Sandwiches. I know old folk often don’t eat much. This is taking the pXXs. Their “sandwiches” are the quarters of two slices of cheap & nasty bread. This makes not even a snack for a child. They called this a meal. Another joke.

As a Diabetic I was regularly massively under-fed. I explained in simple terms more than once to the Chef how Carbohydrate is counted and used in Diabetic meals. Him and his Assistant didn’t understand any of it. I used to even buy-in my own food to ensure survival. In a Care Home! Where they’re being paid handsomely to feed you.

Nobody cared or even checked I’d had anything to eat or if my blood glucose is OK. I could have fallen into a Diabetic Coma and they would just act as if nothing happened. The Chef wasn’t even embarrassed that I bought my own food. They’re being paid, why is it OK to buy my own food? No questions were ever asked by management, even though I told them. He even stored it all in his refridgerator and micro-wave heated (badly) some ready-meals I bought.

I shared a dining-table with an old chap with cerebral palsy who had a very restricted diet. Instead of tasty soft food, they lazily palmed him off with just cheap mystery flavoured soup. It is appalling. It was described as Home Made Soup. What it actually is is Old People’s Home Made rubbish made from veg scraps or just they just used cheap tinned rubbish. This was actually served to him cold quite often. It was supposed to be hot. Nobody is obviously able to pay any attention.

There are loads of stories about where they constantly went very wrong. They basically did everything on the cheap. Folk would not send their loved one’s to these places if they knew what they are really like. The Care Home Quality Commission’s (or whatever they're called), write-up about this place is pure fantasy. It’s as though they wrote about a different place. They asked £820 a week for this nonsense with a straight-face and I was there on the special NHS rate of £665 a week because it’s cheaper than keeping me on a ward. What a filthy rip-off!