THE OLD POST OFFICE MARGATE CLOSED FOR GOOD

I don't want to say I told you so, buuuttttt....

The Old Post Office in Margate is closed suddenly and without warning by bailiffs, the paperwork glued to the door is said to be on behalf of the landlord to repossess. Say no more.

Is this another victim of rising costs? I'm not so sure, I think it was doomed from the start.

I have recently written a few articles about the attributes for success and the importance of being attractive in hospitality, so this is a very timely example to delve into now.

I didn't review this place when I went for dinner there but it was in my mind when I wrote an article about the virtues of a Sunday roast dinner. It's quite a sprawling read but the target is the arrogance of some places which pitch themselves as the best of the best, but only manage the most average of average usually for twice the price.

The article specifically talks about places charging a much higher price than people will reasonably pay and ventured with reasonable argument that places that do this will face problems.

So in writing this I appreciate what I am going to say may seem a bit of a kick to the low hanging fruit, but this is a reality which if you are in hospitality you really need to understand, and for everyone else you can choose to agree or disagree all by yourselves.

Here is my posthumous review.

I had an issue with the place before I walked through the door and for reasons I will explain, but putting that aside we was in the market of adventure and intrigue. 

The Old Post Office was on the list of places to try, so with friends we booked a meal for 4.

I was excited to try a cracking roast dinner, not just lovely, this needed to get next level. I had seen social media, it looked the real deal, but I know looks can be deceiving. 

I knew it was expensive but this is why we booked, it was a celebration with friends, we wanted that WOW! 

I can see why this should make a rather wonderful restaurant. It is a fabulous building. Bold, imposing, handsome and stony grey like George Clooney with Amal next to him on the red carpet. It's stone like pillars and beautiful solid oak door are virtuous indications of grandeur. It looks almost palatial.

Sadly we never got the Wow or even get what was advertised.

"Sorry no cauliflower cheese. We've been so busy and run out" said the waitress almost proudly.

Uh oh.... No cauliflower cheese? That's like saying to a kid in McDonald's that you can only have a fruit pouch. I was sulking already.

But all was not lost as a fantastic roast is more than a bit of cauliflower cheese, there will be other delights no doubt. 

A Sunday roast dinner at this level and price better have every element on top of its game, no cop outs or half measures. 

Every individual item must be the best version of itself. 

The food came. 3 very averagely roasted spuds (one medium potato cut into three) no attempt to take a humble roastie and elevate it, it wasn't vaguely crispy, apart from that telling bunt edge.. these are take it as they are standards found anywhere. I had the beef and it was as moist and delicious as you would expect from a prime cut accompanied with shredded green cabbage and simply boiled carrots. 

A Yorkshire pudding with the bitter charcoal taste and bite from being unceremoniously cremated crowned upon it. You know when it's just like dust in your mouth..and yes it was plated like one of those stacking hoop toy things you bought a baby to bash and gnaw on. 

Ah but then a thimble of some rather splendid gravy. 

The gravy was by far the biggest hitter on the plate and whilst that is pleasing, it is also quite revealing. Everything else was overwhelmingly average. Like soggy candy floss it just seemed to disappear as you moved the items around to put them on the fork. 

Realizing that every bite needed to be nibbled, the frantic pace slowed right down.

We wasn't to be out of pocket for the lack of cauliflower cheese though, we were compensated by 4 roast potatoes for us to share, a bit each. To accompany we had a bottle of Prosecco and a couple of beers which equated to the quickest decimation of £180 on a treat that didn't involve hookers and cocaine.

I started my tirade by saying I had an issue before I walked in, and here is why.

It sits overlooking an incredibly busy road junction and bus stops, but that's not really my problem. 

Opposite is the Death Star incarnate which is the Thanet Council Offices which seems to be a magnet for Margates sizable impoverished community, but that's not my problem.

Its the wrong side of town. Yes, arguably the center of town, but that's not really where people want or need to go, but that's still not my problem.

It stands on its own as a hospitality venue and apart from a few solicitors offices, providing the idea of an occasionally well heeled customer, but there still isn't any foot fall which would naturally come here. 

This means you really must want to come here and here alone, and then parking is an issue.. that also really isn't my problem.

I zone in when I see social media posts on local places to eat. 

I saw a friend had taken a pic of his Sunday roast dinner here and posted it online before he no doubt unashamedly devoured it. 

I dropped him a DM later and asked what he thought, he said he was disappointed as he felt he could do better himself. Ain't that the truth.

This is my problem. They expected to be a beacon for fine diners. They thought by spending on that, looking like this, putting stuff like that on the menu and opening the doors was enough to get people flocking. It wasn't.

I didn't like it's arrogance, but if it wasn't arrogance it was naivety but if it was naivety then it was stupidity.

A drive by in the evening should reveal people queuing to get in, dimmed lights and silhouettes, a waiting list for a reservation, this is what they would have imagined before they opened their doors for the first time but hold on, that didn't happen because this isn't Kensington high street.

There wasn't enough of a reason for people here to go there.

It was expensive, the words rippled over social media. It was pitching high in a town where you need more than bravado to win over the crowds.

I think the owner clearly realized he/she needed to diversify, and again made another faux pas with a  bottomless Prosseco/Grolsh or selected cocktail deal at £45 per head for 90 minutes. Why is that wrong? Well its a pointless offer designed to get people sitting for longer. Believe me, kids that want to binge drink do so for far less money down the road. Is there a market for groups of maturer people or groups see a value in committing £45 a head without food for 90 minutes in a nicer place? Well I think we know the answer to that?

The next roll of the dice was the "Bottomless pancake challenge" 

I was quite impressed with this one, it actually tapped into a niche market which is simply to appeal to groups to have a go, and take pictures for Instagram for their story. But the problem with this is momentum... You need people in great numbers to be climbing through your windows for a seat, but they didn't, those that really wanted pancakes went to Kaspas where you could park easily.

But here's the thing, I really feel for the owners and the staff who believed in what they were doing. I believe the people in the kitchen are talented, and I'm sure we will see them somewhere soon.

Can The Old Post Office make it in any way shape or form? I'm not so sure it can as a pure restaurant.

Even if a notable Michelin chef came in giving people that attraction you desperately need in a place like this, I'm not convinced one could reasonably think that this building, in this spot is where he or she will make his or her fortune. 

Look around at the local restaurants with Michelin mentions. They are in small, low overheads, unassuming, manageable places. Now you know why.

This wasn't a just a failure in the face of crippling costs. This was a classic failure to understand the importance of attraction and understand your market.

I have covered this in a recent piece I wrote. The Key to Success is Attraction.