As Winchester's Cathedral refectory expands into a second building, David Foster asks whether it serves God, or mammon.

 
Manna from heaven?
   
 

Leaning back on the cream cushions of a vast settee, the Dean waves a hand towards his sitting room ceiling. "This room was part of the Prior's Hall" he explains; "it reached through that wall, and way up into the oak beams of the roof. In monastic times, about a hundred people would sit down here to lunch."

The Very Reverend Michael Till, Dean of Winchester, paints a vivid picture of medieval hospitality in the monastery that pre-dated the present Cathedral. Beyond the rough and tumble beggars at their gate, the monks sat with their guests at long trestle tables in the Hall. At the top table, the Prior welcomed the King's messengers - perhaps even the King himself.

"The Benedictine monks were always well-known for their welcome and hospitality" says Stuart Vause, Commercial Director of Winchester Cathedral Enterprises Ltd, who has steered the fortunes of the Cathedral refectory since early 1993. At that time the present refectory building was still in the future and, although there was a small refreshment room in The Close, it was never designed to cope with the 400,000 souls who visit the Cathedral every year. "The former Dean wanted to provide a better welcome, and some much-needed facilities for our visitors" Stuart explains. "If we broke even, he thought that would be fine."

The striking new glass and steel refectory - opened by the Queen in November 1993 - has done rather better than that, growing into a substantial business venture that would be the envy of many High Street caterers. Beneath the planked timber roofspace with its stainless steel rigging, a huge photo-mural of the cathedral's west window dominates the licensed, cafeteria-style restaurant.

The menu, too, is a subtle blend of ancient and modern, inspired by recipes dating back to the middle ages. Dishes like the popular lunchtime 'Trenchers' - a kind of medieval open sandwich - have helped to win Egon Ronay Star Awards since the beginning. One of Chef Nigel Rogers' own favourites is Hampshire Lamb Thatch; "we might serve that with fresh asparagus or wild mushrooms" he says, "depending what's good at the market that morning".

Trading seven days a week, the refectory turned over £536,000 last year; its profits, in excess of £68,000, were covenanted straight back to the Dean and Chapter. That made a useful contribution to the Cathedral's annual budget of around £1m - but there are plans to squeeze still more from the site.

"We always envisaged three buildings" says Stuart Vause; "the refectory, the Cathedral shop, and an education centre." In the event, the education centre developed within The Close whilst, at the same time, the refectory began to attract a strong local following. "Thirty per cent of our customers use the refectory at least once a week" explains Stuart, "and although that's a very good thing, it's also prevented us from pursuing other areas of the business."

So attention turned to developing a function room in the projected third building, to cater for group visits, conferences and wedding receptions. Helped by a significant bequest from the Paul Woodhouse Trust, the new facility opens this week, at a cost of around £500,000. A lavish brochure stresses the refectory's Benedictine tradition of hospitality, as well as its more contemporary reputation for imaginative, high-quality, local fare. But is this just thinly disguised commercialism, or does the refectory support the Cathedral's work in a more tangible way?

The Dean draws breath. "I think it does" he says, prodding at a copy of the Cathedral's Mission Statement. "One of our aims is to welcome visitors as God's guests, and that's also part of the refectory's ministry. Volunteers from parishes all over the Diocese come in to help our paid kitchen staff - and that actually helps to focus on the fact that the church is welcoming people to Winchester."

He's pragmatic about accusations of commercialism. "Running a Cathedral is expensive" he admits, "and it always was. In the old days, Kings and Barons provided for the church by giving it farms and estates ... there were always a number of enterprises which helped to generate revenue. We've lost sight of that until recently, but we're having to rediscover it now."

The Dean admits, too, that Sunday trading "is a very sharp question." Congregations, he explains, are quietly growing. "We had a total of around six hundred at our four services last Sunday; some of them set out to come here, others just crept in at the back and stayed. I actually think that if people come to the Cathedral on a Sunday and can't get a cup of tea or pick up a recording of the choir, they'll think the Cathedral isn't much good! But it's absolutely essential that our staff get proper time off. We hold them within the life of the church; we don't regard them as expendable."

Stella Black, who ran her own catering business before joining the refectory's paid staff, does find the atmosphere rather less competitive. And, although working with volunteers is like managing a new workforce every day, there are compensations. "They're nice people" she says, "and they're here because they want to be. So they're in a good mood straight away."

Teams of volunteers from all over the Diocese arrive at the refectory each morning to run the front of house area for the day. Sue Hollyhock's team from Otterbourne parish comes four times a year, and Sue herself also relieves on the cash till when necessary. "We're usually a bit weary by the time we go home" she says, "but people enjoy working together. There's a team spirit about it - it's worthwhile, and actually quite good fun."

Customers respond to that. "We're in here two or three times a week" said Mr and Mrs Wray, a retired couple who walk in from their home on the outskirts of the city. "It's not so commercial; the company's nice, and the food's good." Another Wintonian, Felicity Botham, agrees. "They don't rush you here" she told me. "There's an atmosphere of calm, and the service is excellent. They've lost the art of saying 'it's off - you can't have it!'"

The Dean laughs at that story, but he's clearly pleased at the compliment. "This refectory, this shop, are not 'bolt-ons'" he tells me, as we leave the Deanery and stroll out into the evening sunshine; "we may have added them recently but, in a curious way, they've settled down as the modern version of what was here long before - a continuation of the Benedictine tradition of hospitality."

© David Foster 1999