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Art of the matter
The Times, Debra Craine - 20th February 2006

Please, give us thought for food - an evening at the theatre cannot be sustained by a packet of crisps.

Luckily for me I get to spend most of my evenings in a theatre. Unluckily for my digestion, I spend most evenings relying on London’s theatres to feed me. And I’m not alone. How many times have you rushed to the play straight from the office, and then raced to the bar for a packet of crisps and an orange juice, hoping to ward off hunger pangs until after the curtain calls? Never underestimate the power of a hungry stomach to ruin a good show.

Shows don’t come much better than Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? With Kathleen Turner and Bill Irwin delivering towering performances as the battling spouses, you would be hard pressed to find a more dynamic evening out. But you couldn’t do worse for food than its venue, the Apollo in Shaftesbury Avenue. Between Quality Street, Loseley ice cream and bar pistachios, there wasn’t much of substance to tame my rumbling tummy.

I don’t blame the Apollo. Public space is extremely limited in these old West End theatres and trying to get a drink, let alone a snack, is a nightmare. But I do blame the Barbican, where I found myself the following night. Stoking up before The Andersen Project, Robert Lepage’s sensational one-man show, my spirits were raised by the sight of takeaway lamb kebabs in the spacious Barbican foyer. Just the thing, I thought, for a hasty nibble. In the event they were practically inedible: greasy, overcooked, as tasty as cardboard. And at £2.50 for two tiny kebabs, also overpriced.

With more than 12 million people attending theatre, opera and ballet in London each year, you would think that the capital’s theatres would be sensitive to the stomachs of their patrons. Historically, their catering has been disappointing, but the good news is that food is getting better as venues wake up to the needs of a captive, time-pressed audience.

As a dance critic, I spend a lot of time at Sadler’s Wells, and my spirits rose considerably when I discovered its bijou Garden Café, tucked away by the stage door. For £4.50 I can get a tasty sausage and pepper casserole with herbed rice within minutes.

Chrissy Sharp, the general manager, says that “the profit we make from catering is minimal — less than 1 per cent”, yet the theatre still feels that it’s important to provide food for “the comfort and enjoyment” of its customers.

For other theatres, though, the provision of food is a thriving commercial enterprise. Just look at the Royal Opera House, where patrons can pay more than £100 for a meal for two (with wine) in the Floral Hall Balconies Restaurant. Even the bar snacks, which I usually end up eating, are expensive — £9.90 for two rounds of dry, uninspired smoked-salmon sandwiches. Ian Sparrow, the head of patron services at Covent Garden, admits that catering accounts for nearly 10 per cent of the venue’s revenues, which probably means in excess of £5 million. “It’s the icing on the cake,” he says. That icing helps to pay for productions.

It’s the same elsewhere. Buy a sausage roll at the Queen Elizabeth Hall (£1.80) and you are contributing to the overall funding of the centre’s artistic activities.

The National Theatre makes no bones about how important food revenue is to its operation. “Catering supports the work of the National Theatre,” explains Robyn Lines, the director of catering. “What you see on stage is helped by selling food.”

The National has one tremendous advantage — space. Room enough for eight bars, one café, two restaurants, an espresso bar and a buffet, all of which generate a turnover of more than £3.5 million a year.

Perhaps that’s what will finally turn theatre catering around. With the increasing reliance on commercial enterprises to augment box-office takings and public subsidy (where applicable), venues are finding that food and art do mix.

So what’s the best deal for London’s theatregoers? That honour has to go to the National’s Lyttelton buffet. In this cheery corner eatery overlooking the Thames you can find a chicken, smoked cheese and mushroom pie, handmade with free range meat, for £5.95. It’s hot, tasty and filling, and the National sells hundreds every week.

By comparison, the historic West End theatres don’t stand a chance. Still, one crafty catering company has come up with a clever wheeze called Theatre Box. It offers a dozen cold canapés to accompany your interval drinks. They aren’t cheap — £15 a box — but they are rather yummy.