Can't believe I forgot about this. It just jumped into my head.
So on Dragons Den its a lot of waiting around until its your turn to go on. They get you there hours before hand and you sit around watching everyone else rehearsing their pitch or making sure their demo is going to work. I started off very calm, I thought to myself 'I've talked to humans before, how hard can it be' but it really starts to get in on you after 4 hours of hanging around. Especially when they keep putting make-up on you and getting you to do interviews with bright lights shining at you. The people that work there are very aware of the rising tensions and are quite good at diffusing the situation.
Here's an aside for you, the bit where you walk up the stairs...' Kevin who hails from Raheny and got his start up cash selling his childhood toys at car boot sales...' is actually filmed about 2 hours before you go into the den. I walked up and down that stairs about 6 times. One of the lighting guys whispered to me that the director thinks he's Martin Scorsese. Ha!
Anyway, it gets to my turn in the den and I walk in the door (they are very strict about not looking at the dragons before you get to your spot...whatever) and I see where i'm heading for, push the screen out of the way, hit my spot like a pro turn around to say my first line and i think 'that looks just like the telly'. All of the people from dragons den are sitting in front of me and the absurdity of the whole situation relaxes me. That was why I messed up the first line. Anyone watching that closely? No? just me then. I messed up the first line and many more after that.
So everything is going fine, i'm talking to the humans, the humans are talking back, no big deal. And not one but two butterflies fly at me out of no-where. This is mid- January, talk about a distraction, while i'm talking i'm trying to figure out if its normal to have butterflies in January. I actually had to dip my head out of the way mid-sentence.
Here's the best bit though, someone(the room is full of people) somewhere calls 'Cut!, Kevin don't move an inch'. They have to change a tape or something so i'm focusing on not moving an inch when they, the dragons, start talking in depth about butterflies. I say, there's one right beside my foot, Gavin Duffy jumps out of his chair and starts ambling towards it in stealth mode, hands out, eyebrows raised, half a smile. I'm looking at him thinking is this real life? is this actually happening? I've never seen anyone concentrate on a butterfly like this in my life. Needless to say, he doesn't catch it not for the want of trying though and he takes his seat again. Cameras start rolling and Gavin with his serious face: "Kevin, you're a conundrum..." I'm thinking I'm the conundrum???!!
Weird.
Phase 11 - Getting All Professional
Long time no blog. Got married, hence the break in transmission. Since the last time though, things have been flying along. We got put in as 'Product of the Month' in Checkout Magazine (thats a big deal publication for retailers), got a piece written about us in U magazine. We got a distributor on board and had contact from a nationwide retailer. Good times! The retailer contacted us about supplying them. Supposedly its unheard of for a shop to approach a supplier, usually the other way around. Few tastings about the place, and things are looking good. So not much else to report. Started thinking about the Christmas range, have to see about getting those labels designed. I suppose they'll look similar to what we have with a Christmas feel. Then we have to finalise the recipe for the producers...small batch...medium batch...big batch Go!thats the way it works. All takes time. Have an accountant now as well. All very professional. Onwards...
Phase 10 – Rocker Roll
March 2011
Fairly frustrating month. A lot of waiting around for things to get finished. It’s all part of it but annoying none the less! Finally got to the point where the hitlist could be attacked just after Paddy’s day. Had stock (with labels), had tasting stand, had admin details up to date, had petrol in the car and a smile upon my face. By the end of March we were stocked in the River Café, Raheny, The Country Market in Howth, Fresh in Camden Street and Fallon & Byrne in Exchequer Street. There are about another 6 promising leads and probably another 10 added to the hitlist. Its takes a long time to get listed in these places, a lot of people have to make the right decisions before you can rock up with the tasting stand. Good few tastings done over the last couple of weeks and sales are steady for the most part. Nothing more to report, onwards......
Fairly frustrating month. A lot of waiting around for things to get finished. It’s all part of it but annoying none the less! Finally got to the point where the hitlist could be attacked just after Paddy’s day. Had stock (with labels), had tasting stand, had admin details up to date, had petrol in the car and a smile upon my face. By the end of March we were stocked in the River Café, Raheny, The Country Market in Howth, Fresh in Camden Street and Fallon & Byrne in Exchequer Street. There are about another 6 promising leads and probably another 10 added to the hitlist. Its takes a long time to get listed in these places, a lot of people have to make the right decisions before you can rock up with the tasting stand. Good few tastings done over the last couple of weeks and sales are steady for the most part. Nothing more to report, onwards......
Phase 9 – Readying for Relaunch
February 2011
Things are moving along nicely this month. There’s still so much to do with tweaking label design, agreeing a price with a label printing company, sorting out a tasting stand for shops, invoicing systems, accounts software, all the boring background stuff that you take for granted. I’m enjoying it though. I’ve learned so much over the last few months that i’d never had a clue about otherwise.
Got on to Bord Bia to see about registering with them. Spoke to a very helpful Lady who posted me a ton of market research on the sauce market in Ireland. Did you know that 77% of people are having friends over instead of going to pub or restaurant (Source: Bord Bia PERIscope 5, Irish Consumers & Their Food, Pg 39). Well there you go, now you know.
It certainly seems like our products are (Re)launching at the right time.
Also spoke to another helpful lady in ‘Love Irish Food’ who sent me a mass of stuff to read about their organization. I’d love to get that sticker on the front of the new label but ‘tis a bit pricey, maybe next year. We’ll get the Oirish-ness across some other way.
Onwards......
Things are moving along nicely this month. There’s still so much to do with tweaking label design, agreeing a price with a label printing company, sorting out a tasting stand for shops, invoicing systems, accounts software, all the boring background stuff that you take for granted. I’m enjoying it though. I’ve learned so much over the last few months that i’d never had a clue about otherwise.
Got on to Bord Bia to see about registering with them. Spoke to a very helpful Lady who posted me a ton of market research on the sauce market in Ireland. Did you know that 77% of people are having friends over instead of going to pub or restaurant (Source: Bord Bia PERIscope 5, Irish Consumers & Their Food, Pg 39). Well there you go, now you know.
It certainly seems like our products are (Re)launching at the right time.
Also spoke to another helpful lady in ‘Love Irish Food’ who sent me a mass of stuff to read about their organization. I’d love to get that sticker on the front of the new label but ‘tis a bit pricey, maybe next year. We’ll get the Oirish-ness across some other way.
Onwards......
Phase 8 – A Rocker is Reborn!
Jan 2011
Christmas went very well as we expected it would. We sold out of everything we made and there was a few quid in the bank. However, the Christmas rush had taken its toll. Ronan felt we had come to the end of the road and wanted to put it all down to a good experience. I wasn’t finished. I just felt that we hadn’t done everything we could think off to make it work. We came to an agreement pretty easily, Ronan would stay involved and be in charge of producing those excellent recipes that he does so well and I would go out and sell them. We both agreed to focus on our chutney range as these were our best sellers. But in order to get onto the shelves properly and with eye catching labels, we’d need to bring in the professionals!
So I got in touch with the Dublin City Enterprise Board in the hope that they could point us in the right direction for the issues we’d identified. They could. They’re absolutely awesome in there.
They gave us a business mentor who pretty much gave homework assignments every couple of weeks: have this much of the business plan done, find out about this or that. It is fantastic for staying on track. Having a mentor is great way of getting information that you otherwise wouldn’t have a clue where to get. For example, where does one get bar codes? Anyone? No?....global standards is the company, gs1.ie Simple as that. Pay a fee, get barcodes. I know everything there is to know about barcodes, how to generate them, the check digit, all that stuff! I’m great fun at parties.
Our mentor was able to point us towards someone who could make the stuff for us to our exact recipe. So that takes a huge amount of pressure off and means we can fill orders easily for our customers.
It’s getting exciting thinking about what could be possible for Rocker Foods.....
Christmas went very well as we expected it would. We sold out of everything we made and there was a few quid in the bank. However, the Christmas rush had taken its toll. Ronan felt we had come to the end of the road and wanted to put it all down to a good experience. I wasn’t finished. I just felt that we hadn’t done everything we could think off to make it work. We came to an agreement pretty easily, Ronan would stay involved and be in charge of producing those excellent recipes that he does so well and I would go out and sell them. We both agreed to focus on our chutney range as these were our best sellers. But in order to get onto the shelves properly and with eye catching labels, we’d need to bring in the professionals!
So I got in touch with the Dublin City Enterprise Board in the hope that they could point us in the right direction for the issues we’d identified. They could. They’re absolutely awesome in there.
They gave us a business mentor who pretty much gave homework assignments every couple of weeks: have this much of the business plan done, find out about this or that. It is fantastic for staying on track. Having a mentor is great way of getting information that you otherwise wouldn’t have a clue where to get. For example, where does one get bar codes? Anyone? No?....global standards is the company, gs1.ie Simple as that. Pay a fee, get barcodes. I know everything there is to know about barcodes, how to generate them, the check digit, all that stuff! I’m great fun at parties.
Our mentor was able to point us towards someone who could make the stuff for us to our exact recipe. So that takes a huge amount of pressure off and means we can fill orders easily for our customers.
It’s getting exciting thinking about what could be possible for Rocker Foods.....
Phase 7 – Heads Turned, Heads Dropped
October 2010
After many weeks and months of farmers markets we decided it was time for the next level....shops! We had no idea how to go about approaching shops. Do you just rocker up to them at the front door? Ring first? Both? We tried many different approaches and found that the bold as brass, simple approach worked best. We happened to know a couple of people in a couple of different butchers and thought they’d be a good start. They started to put in orders and everything was going fine. Except for one thing....
We were still messing around in Kev’s kitchen, wreaking it a couple of times a week, after a full days work in our day jobs. Things were starting to get tense, tempers were shortening and cooking sessions were lengthening. We had loads of orders but not enough hours in the day to fill the orders. Something had to give and eventually we did.
It just started to peter out a bit. We didn’t have to drive to approach more shops because we knew we couldn't fill the orders. We weren’t happy with the labels but couldn’t afford to get a designer. The pesto wasn’t sealing properly so we were losing money on that. All in all it seemed that we had come to the end of the road. As it was approaching Christmas we decided to give it one more push until January and make a decision then. It wasn’t looking good.....
After many weeks and months of farmers markets we decided it was time for the next level....shops! We had no idea how to go about approaching shops. Do you just rocker up to them at the front door? Ring first? Both? We tried many different approaches and found that the bold as brass, simple approach worked best. We happened to know a couple of people in a couple of different butchers and thought they’d be a good start. They started to put in orders and everything was going fine. Except for one thing....
We were still messing around in Kev’s kitchen, wreaking it a couple of times a week, after a full days work in our day jobs. Things were starting to get tense, tempers were shortening and cooking sessions were lengthening. We had loads of orders but not enough hours in the day to fill the orders. Something had to give and eventually we did.
It just started to peter out a bit. We didn’t have to drive to approach more shops because we knew we couldn't fill the orders. We weren’t happy with the labels but couldn’t afford to get a designer. The pesto wasn’t sealing properly so we were losing money on that. All in all it seemed that we had come to the end of the road. As it was approaching Christmas we decided to give it one more push until January and make a decision then. It wasn’t looking good.....
Phase 6: Free, Free, Free, Good Luck!!
July 2010
We rocker-ed up to Greystones ‘Market’, if you could call it that and it’s a pub car park. Greystones is a long way to travel for a pub car park. We were seduced by the fact that we were asked to go to a market but we had our hearts broken when we got there.
As it was such a small market, we were told the first few weeks would be free. Grand says us. So we set up shop and do what we do best and as it’s free we’re happy enough with the day’s takings. Next Friday rolls around and we head out to Greystones again. Nothing to report, everything goes to plan. The third week, Mr. Smoke’n’Mirrors starts to mention maybe throwing him a few quid, this is around the time that the gazebo has taken off in the storm force winds, lands on one legs and breaks. I think we’re done with Greystones ‘Market’.
It takes 45 minutes to take down the gazebo, screwdrivers are employed, curses are muttered and we are in the market for a new eh, market. Time to dream it all up again. Somewhere closer to home perhaps....
We rocker-ed up to Greystones ‘Market’, if you could call it that and it’s a pub car park. Greystones is a long way to travel for a pub car park. We were seduced by the fact that we were asked to go to a market but we had our hearts broken when we got there.
As it was such a small market, we were told the first few weeks would be free. Grand says us. So we set up shop and do what we do best and as it’s free we’re happy enough with the day’s takings. Next Friday rolls around and we head out to Greystones again. Nothing to report, everything goes to plan. The third week, Mr. Smoke’n’Mirrors starts to mention maybe throwing him a few quid, this is around the time that the gazebo has taken off in the storm force winds, lands on one legs and breaks. I think we’re done with Greystones ‘Market’.
It takes 45 minutes to take down the gazebo, screwdrivers are employed, curses are muttered and we are in the market for a new eh, market. Time to dream it all up again. Somewhere closer to home perhaps....
Phase 5: Standing our (waste)ground
June 2010
So given the fact that we had just about sold enough to cover the rent, we kind of felt like we had been lied to.
Obviously, positive and all as we still were, we didn’t fancy paying 70 quid to the guy in charge. We were about to have our first argument...
The way it works at markets is you set up in the morning, hopefully enjoy the day and sell some of your wares. Towards the end of the day, the guy comes over looking to take a huge chunk out of your kitty. Usually more than half in our case. So this being our first day, we had made about 70 euro give or take. Not much for a days work I think you’ll agree. And the rent? 70 quid. For a piece of wasteland, with no people (footfall we call it in the business, keep up). Now you’d think we would’ve agreed the cost from the start but not us, we were too caught up in getting there and getting a spot. So the guy that was there didn’t want the argument but we weren’t paying a penny at that price. We had moxy! So he rang the main boss who had less than no interest in talking to us. The conversation went like this:
Us: just wondering if there was anything you could do on the price seeing as we were nowhere near the main market and we haven’t really made enough to cover it.
Him: No. (not “em, well, no” or “not really”, just “No” )
Us: (with our backs up): well we don’t think it’s fair that we’re expected to pay the same rent as the main market...
Him: OK, don’t pay then but don’t ever call me trying to get into one of my markets ever again. Give the phone back to Seamús
It seemed the upper hand was on the other foot and we were going to have to pay. You do the maths at 5 quid a jar. Try getting 28 inch rims for the hummer and 14 bottles of Moet Champagne for that kind of return. It’s not easy. It’s doable, but not easy.
So that was it, we had to pay it. The guy on the phone, who shall remain nameless, lets call him McAr**hole, runs pretty much all of the markets around Dublin so getting on the wrong side of him at this stage wasn’t a good idea. Hard as it was to swallow.
Next place to try was Leopardstown Racecourse on Fridays. This one was indoors so more likely to attract people regardless of the weather. It was run by McAr**hole Jr. He had no interest in anything so that was a small mercy. Set up where ever we liked and got stuck in. We happened upon a fella who was looking to recruit people for the market he was setting up in Greystones. It was like something out of a spy film. He wandered over like a regular punter, casually perusing the jars and samples. And then with his head down, his eyes suddenly darted up,
“every been to the market in Greystones?!”
“hmm?”
“Greystones, i’m setting up a market there, first 3 weeks are free”
“eh, ok?”
“I’ll be back to you in a while”
And like that he vanished with a flash of light and a plump of multicoloured smoke only to return, disappointingly, through the front door an hour later.
All very smoke and daggers. He gave us some good advice about laying out the jars and how to attract people in. Ideas we have taken on board and still use with gusto. It seemed fate had dealt us a hand with 3 weeks free. We were Greystones bound.
So the next time you’re at the market, think about what it took for the sellers to get there. And stop eating the samples if you have no intention of buying! They’ll talk about you when you’re gone, you know.
So given the fact that we had just about sold enough to cover the rent, we kind of felt like we had been lied to.
Obviously, positive and all as we still were, we didn’t fancy paying 70 quid to the guy in charge. We were about to have our first argument...
The way it works at markets is you set up in the morning, hopefully enjoy the day and sell some of your wares. Towards the end of the day, the guy comes over looking to take a huge chunk out of your kitty. Usually more than half in our case. So this being our first day, we had made about 70 euro give or take. Not much for a days work I think you’ll agree. And the rent? 70 quid. For a piece of wasteland, with no people (footfall we call it in the business, keep up). Now you’d think we would’ve agreed the cost from the start but not us, we were too caught up in getting there and getting a spot. So the guy that was there didn’t want the argument but we weren’t paying a penny at that price. We had moxy! So he rang the main boss who had less than no interest in talking to us. The conversation went like this:
Us: just wondering if there was anything you could do on the price seeing as we were nowhere near the main market and we haven’t really made enough to cover it.
Him: No. (not “em, well, no” or “not really”, just “No” )
Us: (with our backs up): well we don’t think it’s fair that we’re expected to pay the same rent as the main market...
Him: OK, don’t pay then but don’t ever call me trying to get into one of my markets ever again. Give the phone back to Seamús
It seemed the upper hand was on the other foot and we were going to have to pay. You do the maths at 5 quid a jar. Try getting 28 inch rims for the hummer and 14 bottles of Moet Champagne for that kind of return. It’s not easy. It’s doable, but not easy.
So that was it, we had to pay it. The guy on the phone, who shall remain nameless, lets call him McAr**hole, runs pretty much all of the markets around Dublin so getting on the wrong side of him at this stage wasn’t a good idea. Hard as it was to swallow.
Next place to try was Leopardstown Racecourse on Fridays. This one was indoors so more likely to attract people regardless of the weather. It was run by McAr**hole Jr. He had no interest in anything so that was a small mercy. Set up where ever we liked and got stuck in. We happened upon a fella who was looking to recruit people for the market he was setting up in Greystones. It was like something out of a spy film. He wandered over like a regular punter, casually perusing the jars and samples. And then with his head down, his eyes suddenly darted up,
“every been to the market in Greystones?!”
“hmm?”
“Greystones, i’m setting up a market there, first 3 weeks are free”
“eh, ok?”
“I’ll be back to you in a while”
And like that he vanished with a flash of light and a plump of multicoloured smoke only to return, disappointingly, through the front door an hour later.
All very smoke and daggers. He gave us some good advice about laying out the jars and how to attract people in. Ideas we have taken on board and still use with gusto. It seemed fate had dealt us a hand with 3 weeks free. We were Greystones bound.
So the next time you’re at the market, think about what it took for the sellers to get there. And stop eating the samples if you have no intention of buying! They’ll talk about you when you’re gone, you know.
Phase 4: The Farmers Markets
June 2010
Y’know, people always ask us how we made our fortune of €299.38 and we always tell them, go to car boot sales. And bring your own sandwiches.
With the plastic Chinese Take Away box (which we christened 'the finance department') full to the brim with notes and coins of varying denominations, it was felt that the time had come to break away from the harsh cut throat world of the ‘Car Boot’ and take it up a notch to the, eh, cut throater world of the farmers markets.
We had over the summer months identified 2 or 3 markets we were going to infiltrate. We would use Stealth, Cunning, Disguises, Trickery, Misdirection, we were willing to do anything to get a pitch in one of those goldmines. So with a well rehearsed script we made the call....it went a bit like this:
Us: Hi there, we have recently started selling chutneys, relishes and the like and were wondering about how we would go about booking a stall for...
Guy on the phone: ‘be here at 7am’.
So, it was more a ‘showing up’ rather than showing up in disguise which was a bit of a disappointment. With no need for the outfits, Kevin carefully folded his Power Rangers suit and put it back on the hanger and Ronan left his Little Bo Peep outfit on for longer than was necessary before doing the same.
The effort required to attend a farmers market depends on what side of the table you plan to be at. Customer side goes like this:
“Bloke:Oh honey, it’s a nice day, lets go the market.
Honey: yeah ok, we can see if those hilarious RoCKeR Foods Pesto and Sweet Chilli guys are there, those guys are so incredibly talented at making sauces, relishes and such’n’such”
The other side of the table requires a bit more effort. Getting all the jars ready and labelled, buying latex gloves (watch the people in the market stalls, do they handle your purchase with the same hand they handle the money? Defeats the purpose of the glove),cream crackers, chopping board, paper plates, gazebo, spoons, cream crackers, getting a suitable table from somewhere, tea towels, squirty hygiene stuff etc. and there are etc.’s including even more cream crackers.
We arrive at the designated spot at the designated time. Ronan in his Bo Peep outfit (just in case). We jumped out of the car and made out like we were old hands at this. We approached the guy who looked in charge, i.e. he had a clipboard. He told us that in fact we weren’t to set up in the main market area but in the new area. “OK” says the newbies and he pointed over into the far distance, across the main road into the waste ground, where not a soul had entered let alone set up a market stall for eons. Slightly wary of this, we moved the cars and began unpacking. We got the gazebo out of the box (our newbies cover was well blown by now). Got it all set up by 8:30am and set about getting some breakfast.
By 10am, the market was heaving with people, meanwhile our waste ground remained a waste ground, with actual tumbleweed rolling by. We may as well have set up in the back garden at home. By midday, the cavalry arrived in the shape of friends and family. They all bought jars, some through pity for us and others because they were generally surprised by the quality of our produce. We got a couple of sales from strangers too which really lifted us. We had to run across the main road in our aprons and blue latex gloves with plates of crackers and dips for the punters coming out of the train station. So not all was lost. We had to keep reminding ourselves how far we’d come from that first conversation about being our own bosses. It was back on the learning curve that day. Towards the end of the day we had the plan tweaked and nothing was insurmountable. Then there was the awkward matter of paying the days rent....
Y’know, people always ask us how we made our fortune of €299.38 and we always tell them, go to car boot sales. And bring your own sandwiches.
With the plastic Chinese Take Away box (which we christened 'the finance department') full to the brim with notes and coins of varying denominations, it was felt that the time had come to break away from the harsh cut throat world of the ‘Car Boot’ and take it up a notch to the, eh, cut throater world of the farmers markets.
We had over the summer months identified 2 or 3 markets we were going to infiltrate. We would use Stealth, Cunning, Disguises, Trickery, Misdirection, we were willing to do anything to get a pitch in one of those goldmines. So with a well rehearsed script we made the call....it went a bit like this:
Us: Hi there, we have recently started selling chutneys, relishes and the like and were wondering about how we would go about booking a stall for...
Guy on the phone: ‘be here at 7am’.
So, it was more a ‘showing up’ rather than showing up in disguise which was a bit of a disappointment. With no need for the outfits, Kevin carefully folded his Power Rangers suit and put it back on the hanger and Ronan left his Little Bo Peep outfit on for longer than was necessary before doing the same.
The effort required to attend a farmers market depends on what side of the table you plan to be at. Customer side goes like this:
“Bloke:Oh honey, it’s a nice day, lets go the market.
Honey: yeah ok, we can see if those hilarious RoCKeR Foods Pesto and Sweet Chilli guys are there, those guys are so incredibly talented at making sauces, relishes and such’n’such”
The other side of the table requires a bit more effort. Getting all the jars ready and labelled, buying latex gloves (watch the people in the market stalls, do they handle your purchase with the same hand they handle the money? Defeats the purpose of the glove),cream crackers, chopping board, paper plates, gazebo, spoons, cream crackers, getting a suitable table from somewhere, tea towels, squirty hygiene stuff etc. and there are etc.’s including even more cream crackers.
We arrive at the designated spot at the designated time. Ronan in his Bo Peep outfit (just in case). We jumped out of the car and made out like we were old hands at this. We approached the guy who looked in charge, i.e. he had a clipboard. He told us that in fact we weren’t to set up in the main market area but in the new area. “OK” says the newbies and he pointed over into the far distance, across the main road into the waste ground, where not a soul had entered let alone set up a market stall for eons. Slightly wary of this, we moved the cars and began unpacking. We got the gazebo out of the box (our newbies cover was well blown by now). Got it all set up by 8:30am and set about getting some breakfast.
By 10am, the market was heaving with people, meanwhile our waste ground remained a waste ground, with actual tumbleweed rolling by. We may as well have set up in the back garden at home. By midday, the cavalry arrived in the shape of friends and family. They all bought jars, some through pity for us and others because they were generally surprised by the quality of our produce. We got a couple of sales from strangers too which really lifted us. We had to run across the main road in our aprons and blue latex gloves with plates of crackers and dips for the punters coming out of the train station. So not all was lost. We had to keep reminding ourselves how far we’d come from that first conversation about being our own bosses. It was back on the learning curve that day. Towards the end of the day we had the plan tweaked and nothing was insurmountable. Then there was the awkward matter of paying the days rent....
Phase 3: The First time....
June 2010
Kevin: “How hard can it be to cook a few pots of relish and chutney? Couldn’t be that hard, could it?”
Ronan: “Sure the pesto doesn’t even need any cooking. I think we should make everything at the same time.”
Kevin: “I think so too”
We work very well together, never disagree over RoCKeR Foods. We always have the same vision for what we want to achieve with this whole adventure. Where we fall down is talking each other into things. The first cook for RoCKeR Foods was pretty much an unmitigated disaster. We used Kev’s kitchen. We had the nice lady out from the Health Board to check it and we were good to go. We went to Smithfield market for our fresh produce. We had all our jars bought and sterilised, we just needed to make some chutney and relishes to put in them.
The main problem was that the recipes were half baked (pun intended but immediately regretted), the kitchen was too small for what we were attempting and we didn’t get started until nearly 8pm. All in all RoCKeR Foods was nearly a goner before it had even started. The whole thing passed in a blur for the both of us. Pots boiling over everywhere, no room for anything. Anywhere. Burnt fingers causing havoc and we had over looked the need for a pretty basic piece of equipment. This over sight made itself glaringly obvious when we went to fill the jars. Any ideas?......that’s right ladies and gentlemen, try filling a 200g jar straight from a jug, then the funnel begin. Big clue there. Jar funnels. The greatest gift every bestowed upon humanity, that and a rubber spatula.
Looking back now, how any of those jars got filled is beyond us. There was more chutney on the kitchen table and floor than in the jars. By 2am on a school night, the first RoCKeR Foods cook came to a close. Both of us almost beaten by a few jars of food. We crawled over the finish line and stood proudly looking at not just the jars in front of us but the realisation that we had already at this point achieved something. This whole thing had started as a conversation and now somehow, through all the early mornings at car boot sales, through the long evenings designing labels, the weekends spent trying out recipes, all these baby steps had resulted in an actual range of products that we could stand behind and truly believe in. And was it worth it? Was it f**k, it was 2am, we couldn’t see straight with the tiredness.
Kevin: “How hard can it be to cook a few pots of relish and chutney? Couldn’t be that hard, could it?”
Ronan: “Sure the pesto doesn’t even need any cooking. I think we should make everything at the same time.”
Kevin: “I think so too”
We work very well together, never disagree over RoCKeR Foods. We always have the same vision for what we want to achieve with this whole adventure. Where we fall down is talking each other into things. The first cook for RoCKeR Foods was pretty much an unmitigated disaster. We used Kev’s kitchen. We had the nice lady out from the Health Board to check it and we were good to go. We went to Smithfield market for our fresh produce. We had all our jars bought and sterilised, we just needed to make some chutney and relishes to put in them.
The main problem was that the recipes were half baked (pun intended but immediately regretted), the kitchen was too small for what we were attempting and we didn’t get started until nearly 8pm. All in all RoCKeR Foods was nearly a goner before it had even started. The whole thing passed in a blur for the both of us. Pots boiling over everywhere, no room for anything. Anywhere. Burnt fingers causing havoc and we had over looked the need for a pretty basic piece of equipment. This over sight made itself glaringly obvious when we went to fill the jars. Any ideas?......that’s right ladies and gentlemen, try filling a 200g jar straight from a jug, then the funnel begin. Big clue there. Jar funnels. The greatest gift every bestowed upon humanity, that and a rubber spatula.
Looking back now, how any of those jars got filled is beyond us. There was more chutney on the kitchen table and floor than in the jars. By 2am on a school night, the first RoCKeR Foods cook came to a close. Both of us almost beaten by a few jars of food. We crawled over the finish line and stood proudly looking at not just the jars in front of us but the realisation that we had already at this point achieved something. This whole thing had started as a conversation and now somehow, through all the early mornings at car boot sales, through the long evenings designing labels, the weekends spent trying out recipes, all these baby steps had resulted in an actual range of products that we could stand behind and truly believe in. And was it worth it? Was it f**k, it was 2am, we couldn’t see straight with the tiredness.
Phase 2 - The Characters We Met
May 2010
So as the weeks passed we moved from Santry to Navan to Clonee and back to Fairyhouse, dragging our wears from one to another. Kev’s car stayed permenanty packed with bits and bobs and a large table we managed to wangle from a connection we had (we can’t mention names!). And it was this very table that would eventually shatter Kev’s windscreen en route to a car boot sale, put the entire adventure in doubt but finally lead to relief as it was covered by his insurance. Close one. The ‘security blanket' was forever then in place.
Although we were frequently descended upon and molested, we actually did meet a nice community of people and characters.
There was the mentalist in Clonee – ‘I’m more into mentalism than traditional magic. I’m going on tour for the year so I have to sell all this stuff!’ – was his catchphrase for the day. He probably should have used some of his ‘mentalism’ on the passing crowds, as by the end of the day he looked like he’d only sold a paltry few CDs and DVDs. God bless the newbies! We were hardened pros by this stage and his offer to us of everything for 50 quid – including a hideous full length leather jacket! – was tempting but ultimately fell on deaf ears. Oh where is he now?!
Santry turned out a few mother figures that definitely boosted our confidence – ‘Aren’t ye lads great? Doing all this to go setup a new business. Fair dues to ye. How much are yer books?’ – we liked them. ‘A fiver a piece’. ‘Grand. I’ll take 3’. Nice! The hardcores in Fairyhouse would never have stood for such prices and we learnt that it’s a cutthroat business out there and that price tags only limited our options!!
Our last week in Fairyhouse, also turned up good old Jim and Betty. They’d been doing car boots for over 20 years and had been at Fairyhouse for the first car boot sale many moons ago. He had a dodgy hip and didn’t actually really know what he was selling. ‘Yeah, those are Xbox games. That one there was voted the best game for last year in the Playstation magazine!’ They were Nintendo DS games in the end. And auld Betty, bless. Always praising us and giving tips – ‘you should sell your CDs 3 for a tenner or that. Much better than on their own.’ Duly noted and we reaped the rewards.
‘So we’ll see you next week?’
‘Fraid not. We’re retiring.’
’I didn’t think you had that good a week!’
’No, no. It’s just that we’re starting a new angle. Farmer’s markets. We’re going to sell relishes, chutneys and pesto. That sort of thing.’
’Well best of luck with it. You wouldn’t be able to give us a jump the battery’s dead on the Volvo. HE left the back light on all day!’
Ronan had to wait around until they had everything packed for a full 45 minutes to jump Jim and Bettys car.
So Santry had seen the water feature and scanner depart while Navan and Clonee had seen us ruthlessly attacked and all Xbox games go for a mere 80 quid. Although we were quickly learning the art of the haggle and the chat we soon found the golden rule of car boots – “everybody wants everything for nothing”. Sentiment and emotional connection had to be put aside. We were there to sell (even if we were frequently told we weren’t by various members of the travelling community) and by the end of 5 weekends of hard selling we had a nice little nest egg. The dartboard, pen knife and some paintings had failed to shift so we kindly returned to their rightful owners – who were far from delighted to see them. Thanks, but no thanks. Car boot sales were now done for us. We were to enter the culinary world and take on all comers. But first we had to cook it……
So as the weeks passed we moved from Santry to Navan to Clonee and back to Fairyhouse, dragging our wears from one to another. Kev’s car stayed permenanty packed with bits and bobs and a large table we managed to wangle from a connection we had (we can’t mention names!). And it was this very table that would eventually shatter Kev’s windscreen en route to a car boot sale, put the entire adventure in doubt but finally lead to relief as it was covered by his insurance. Close one. The ‘security blanket' was forever then in place.
Although we were frequently descended upon and molested, we actually did meet a nice community of people and characters.
There was the mentalist in Clonee – ‘I’m more into mentalism than traditional magic. I’m going on tour for the year so I have to sell all this stuff!’ – was his catchphrase for the day. He probably should have used some of his ‘mentalism’ on the passing crowds, as by the end of the day he looked like he’d only sold a paltry few CDs and DVDs. God bless the newbies! We were hardened pros by this stage and his offer to us of everything for 50 quid – including a hideous full length leather jacket! – was tempting but ultimately fell on deaf ears. Oh where is he now?!
Santry turned out a few mother figures that definitely boosted our confidence – ‘Aren’t ye lads great? Doing all this to go setup a new business. Fair dues to ye. How much are yer books?’ – we liked them. ‘A fiver a piece’. ‘Grand. I’ll take 3’. Nice! The hardcores in Fairyhouse would never have stood for such prices and we learnt that it’s a cutthroat business out there and that price tags only limited our options!!
Our last week in Fairyhouse, also turned up good old Jim and Betty. They’d been doing car boots for over 20 years and had been at Fairyhouse for the first car boot sale many moons ago. He had a dodgy hip and didn’t actually really know what he was selling. ‘Yeah, those are Xbox games. That one there was voted the best game for last year in the Playstation magazine!’ They were Nintendo DS games in the end. And auld Betty, bless. Always praising us and giving tips – ‘you should sell your CDs 3 for a tenner or that. Much better than on their own.’ Duly noted and we reaped the rewards.
‘So we’ll see you next week?’
‘Fraid not. We’re retiring.’
’I didn’t think you had that good a week!’
’No, no. It’s just that we’re starting a new angle. Farmer’s markets. We’re going to sell relishes, chutneys and pesto. That sort of thing.’
’Well best of luck with it. You wouldn’t be able to give us a jump the battery’s dead on the Volvo. HE left the back light on all day!’
Ronan had to wait around until they had everything packed for a full 45 minutes to jump Jim and Bettys car.
So Santry had seen the water feature and scanner depart while Navan and Clonee had seen us ruthlessly attacked and all Xbox games go for a mere 80 quid. Although we were quickly learning the art of the haggle and the chat we soon found the golden rule of car boots – “everybody wants everything for nothing”. Sentiment and emotional connection had to be put aside. We were there to sell (even if we were frequently told we weren’t by various members of the travelling community) and by the end of 5 weekends of hard selling we had a nice little nest egg. The dartboard, pen knife and some paintings had failed to shift so we kindly returned to their rightful owners – who were far from delighted to see them. Thanks, but no thanks. Car boot sales were now done for us. We were to enter the culinary world and take on all comers. But first we had to cook it……
Phase 1 - How it All Began
April 2010
So like everyone else in a time where money is tight and memories of drinking mojitos in Café En Seine are a distant and extravagant dream, it was decided to put aside the endless seek for employment and make a fortune the old fashioned way – by being hugely successful entrepreneurs. Of course, it would be folly to travel this path alone, so with the backup of like minded soles, we would face the dizzy heights of entrepreneurialism. Like all genius business ideas we concocted a plan of world domination over an afternoon pint.
We had been on the Dole a solid five months without a sniff of an interview and I believe we were three of the black stuff deep when we got our creative juices flowing.
‘So listen, what if we sold, like, baked potatoes at festivals and markets?’
‘Mmm, hot food and drunk festivalites. No thanks.’
‘Ok. What about setting up a bakery?’
‘Small point of not knowing anything about making bread or having anywhere to cook it.’
‘True. But what we could do is a few car boot sales and scrape together a few shillings selling our childhood toys/anything we can find?’
‘That’s not a bad idea actually.People love nic'naks and tat. I know my Mam for a fact has loads of rubbish knocking around the house and always loves collecting more. I have CD’s, books, games and some other bits I’ve been looking to dump.’
‘Me too. I hear Fairyhouse is the Mecca of the car boot too. My aunt has a number for them I think.’
‘Well, that’s it then. Phase 1 shall swing into action. Get that number during the week and we’ll book in for next weekend.’
‘Done.’
Before we even knew it, we were on our way, the acorn had been planted. It seemed so simple. Beg, ‘borrow’ or steal all manner of trinket and whatnot from friends, family, neighbours and basically anyone that wanted rid of odds and ends around the house. Then bring it to Fairyhouse on a nice summer’s day and sell the lot, make a mint and fund our new, ‘yet to be decided’ enterprise and even get a tan in the process. Easy. So, the week was spent digging through cupboards, garages and cabinets and by Saturday evening we were ready to rock ‘n roll.
We had a veritable Aladdin’s cave of treasures – PC scanners, Playstations, Lego pirate ships, books (many, many books), table water features, paintings of the Australian bush, unloved jewellery, tired CDs, Asian import DVDs, dartboards, pen-knifes, what could only be described as trinkets and other odds and ends. A quick tally of our spoils and by our reckoning we had what we thought at least six hundreds quid worth of booty – car booty. However, we were soon to realise the harsh reality of the car boot sale and it’s no place for amateurs, somewhat surprisingly.
We cruised out ready to be in place for 10am. The sun was high, the sun cream applied and we felt confident. We queued with the other treasure seekers and sellers and jumped out of the car with a zip in our step. We got the table out, that we had acquired, and barely had it up when we were descended upon. Arms and heads appeared from nowhere.
‘How much is da’?’ came from over a fuzzy lipped woman over a shoulder.
‘huh? Sorry? Who said that?’
‘Me, mister. How much is the X-Box and the 35 games?’ as her eager hands turned it over and over under harsh inspection.
‘Three hundred quid.’
‘What! I’ll give ye fifty for it?’ she was no amateur alright.
‘Eh, no. It’s nearly brand new. Look at all the games. Best I can do is two-fifty.’
Meanwhile, Kev was being blind-sided by her eager and cunning partner. They were never going to let us pool our resources and stand firm together. Divide and conquer.
‘Well you’re not here to sell anyway mister!’
‘Right. Good luck.’
Our heads were spinning. We had learnt our first lesson and it would be a day of being eaten alive by the car boot hardcores. We were out of our depth but on a steep learning curve that would become a close friend to us over the next few months. However, all we wanted was to be on the knowledge motorway..............
So like everyone else in a time where money is tight and memories of drinking mojitos in Café En Seine are a distant and extravagant dream, it was decided to put aside the endless seek for employment and make a fortune the old fashioned way – by being hugely successful entrepreneurs. Of course, it would be folly to travel this path alone, so with the backup of like minded soles, we would face the dizzy heights of entrepreneurialism. Like all genius business ideas we concocted a plan of world domination over an afternoon pint.
We had been on the Dole a solid five months without a sniff of an interview and I believe we were three of the black stuff deep when we got our creative juices flowing.
‘So listen, what if we sold, like, baked potatoes at festivals and markets?’
‘Mmm, hot food and drunk festivalites. No thanks.’
‘Ok. What about setting up a bakery?’
‘Small point of not knowing anything about making bread or having anywhere to cook it.’
‘True. But what we could do is a few car boot sales and scrape together a few shillings selling our childhood toys/anything we can find?’
‘That’s not a bad idea actually.People love nic'naks and tat. I know my Mam for a fact has loads of rubbish knocking around the house and always loves collecting more. I have CD’s, books, games and some other bits I’ve been looking to dump.’
‘Me too. I hear Fairyhouse is the Mecca of the car boot too. My aunt has a number for them I think.’
‘Well, that’s it then. Phase 1 shall swing into action. Get that number during the week and we’ll book in for next weekend.’
‘Done.’
Before we even knew it, we were on our way, the acorn had been planted. It seemed so simple. Beg, ‘borrow’ or steal all manner of trinket and whatnot from friends, family, neighbours and basically anyone that wanted rid of odds and ends around the house. Then bring it to Fairyhouse on a nice summer’s day and sell the lot, make a mint and fund our new, ‘yet to be decided’ enterprise and even get a tan in the process. Easy. So, the week was spent digging through cupboards, garages and cabinets and by Saturday evening we were ready to rock ‘n roll.
We had a veritable Aladdin’s cave of treasures – PC scanners, Playstations, Lego pirate ships, books (many, many books), table water features, paintings of the Australian bush, unloved jewellery, tired CDs, Asian import DVDs, dartboards, pen-knifes, what could only be described as trinkets and other odds and ends. A quick tally of our spoils and by our reckoning we had what we thought at least six hundreds quid worth of booty – car booty. However, we were soon to realise the harsh reality of the car boot sale and it’s no place for amateurs, somewhat surprisingly.
We cruised out ready to be in place for 10am. The sun was high, the sun cream applied and we felt confident. We queued with the other treasure seekers and sellers and jumped out of the car with a zip in our step. We got the table out, that we had acquired, and barely had it up when we were descended upon. Arms and heads appeared from nowhere.
‘How much is da’?’ came from over a fuzzy lipped woman over a shoulder.
‘huh? Sorry? Who said that?’
‘Me, mister. How much is the X-Box and the 35 games?’ as her eager hands turned it over and over under harsh inspection.
‘Three hundred quid.’
‘What! I’ll give ye fifty for it?’ she was no amateur alright.
‘Eh, no. It’s nearly brand new. Look at all the games. Best I can do is two-fifty.’
Meanwhile, Kev was being blind-sided by her eager and cunning partner. They were never going to let us pool our resources and stand firm together. Divide and conquer.
‘Well you’re not here to sell anyway mister!’
‘Right. Good luck.’
Our heads were spinning. We had learnt our first lesson and it would be a day of being eaten alive by the car boot hardcores. We were out of our depth but on a steep learning curve that would become a close friend to us over the next few months. However, all we wanted was to be on the knowledge motorway..............
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