Friends who have known me for a long time know that once in a while, I slip into a P.G. Wodehousian style of writing. I quite enjoy it.

I read Wodehouse novels whenever I can. I’ve downloaded all the ones available on Project Gutenberg onto my Kindle. When life gets blurry, P.G. Wodehouse brings it back into focus. A few paragraphs in the company of the master always brings me cheer. There comes a moment in every man’s life when he needs this. And Mr. P.G. always delivers.

I’ve attempted this style for years in various forms, whether or not my readers were up for it.

But now with Claude Code, I have several lieutenants ready to write in the same vein. Here is one attempt from Claude Code. I only supplied the idea—the entire Wodehousian slant was by Claude Code. Even I, who have a distinct taste for P.G. Wodehouse and don’t accept imitations, find it highly acceptable.

For those who enjoy this kind of humor, here is one serving.

Don’t encourage me or Claude Code. You know us both. We’re quite prolific. If you encourage us, you have only yourself to blame.

📋 MEMORANDUM

TO: The Board of Directors, Cartwright & Bassington Event Management Ltd. FROM: Reginald Psmith-Willoughby, Senior Consulting Analyst RE: Post-Mortem Analysis of the Fotheringham-Glossop Wedding Catering Incident (Project Code: FG-2024-SEPT), with Ancillary Observations Regarding Software Development Methodology DATE: 15th October, 2024

📊 EXECUTIVE SUMMARY

It has come to this analyst’s attention that certain parallels may be drawn between the recent Fotheringham-Glossop wedding catering engagement and the organizational structure of modern software development enterprises. This memorandum endeavours to document said parallels while maintaining the professional detachment expected of a man who has seen three sous-chefs resign in a single afternoon (two due to artistic differences, one due to what he described as “philosophical incompatibility with poultry”).

📖 BACKGROUND

The Fotheringham-Glossop nuptials were, by all accounts, destined to be the social event of the Hampshire autumn season. Two hundred and forty guests. Seven courses. One extremely opinionated bride’s aunt. The usual formula for what the military chaps might call “a fluid situation.”

🏢 ORGANIZATIONAL STRUCTURE AND ROLE ANALYSIS

👨‍🍳 The Development Team (Culinary Division)

Our chefs—Messrs. Basildon, Cheerio, and the temperamental but gifted Monsieur Alphonse—were tasked with the actual preparation of comestibles. In software parlance, one understands these fellows “write the code.” In our case, they wrote it in béchamel and burgundy reduction.

Their primary concern was transforming raw ingredients into edible—nay, delectable—reality. They cared not a fig for whether Lady Fotheringham preferred quail to duck, only that whatever bird landed on their chopping block should emerge as something that wouldn’t disgrace the family name. (The Fotheringham-Glossops being a family whose name has remained disgrace-free since 1643, if one overlooks the incident with the Archbishop and the prize marrow.)

✅ Quality Assurance Department (The Tasting Committee)

Miss Henrietta Glossop, the bride’s formidable cousin and a woman who once sent back a soufflé at The Savoy, appointed herself Chief Tasting Officer. Her remit extended beyond mere food poisoning prevention—though one notes this would have been achievement enough—to encompass flavor profiles, presentation standards, and what she termed “gastronomic coherence.”

Every dish was subjected to rigorous examination. The Dover sole was deemed “insufficiently Dover-ish.” The beef Wellington was “topographically unsound.” On three separate occasions, entire courses were rejected and returned to the kitchen with notes that would have made a literary critic blush.

⚙️ DevOps Division (Kitchen Infrastructure and Logistics)

Here we encounter Mr. Geoffrey “Tubby” Barrington and his technical crew, responsible for what in software circles is apparently called “deployment.” In our context, this meant ensuring the ovens functioned, the refrigeration units maintained appropriate temperatures, and that food traveled from kitchen to table while still recognizing itself.

Tubby’s greatest crisis arrived at half-past two on the wedding day, when it was discovered that the primary oven’s thermostat had ideas above its station (it believed itself capable of reaching 500°F when extensive testing suggested its ambitions topped out at 287°F). Through what can only be described as heroic improvisation involving a meat thermometer, a sundial, and pure intuition, Tubby established an alternative cooking methodology that saw all courses delivered at the correct temperature, if not quite at the scheduled times.

👔 Management (The Coordinating Function)

Your humble correspondent found himself thrust into this maelstrom with responsibility for ensuring that:

a) Chefs remained conscious and in the kitchen (rather than unconscious in the pantry, which young Cheerio briefly considered after the third menu revision) b) The pantry and cold storage contained necessary provisions c) Miss Glossop’s quality assessments didn’t reduce Monsieur Alphonse to tears (unsuccessful; he wept twice) d) Tables, chairs, and guests arrived at their designated coordinates e) Food and diners achieved intersection at the appointed hour

One’s role, it became clear, was less “command” and more “frantic resource allocation whilst preventing nervous collapse among all parties.”

🤝 Customer Service (Guest Relations)

Mrs. Delacourt, our Guest Relations Manager, operated on two fronts. Prior to the event, she created menu pamphlets of such elaborate description that guests arrived expecting something between a meal and a religious experience. During the event, she circulated with the grace of a diplomat and the persistence of a tax inspector, inquiring after satisfaction levels.

Her post-prandial interviews revealed that the guests found the soup “transcendent,” the fish “adequate,” and the beef “a triumph marred only by its thirty-five-minute delay”—intelligence which she relayed to the kitchen with admirable tact, translating “where the devil is our food?” into “guests are expressing eager anticipation for the next course.”

📱 Product Management (Menu Direction)

Lady Fotheringham, mother of the bride, served as Product Manager. Her role was determining the broad strategic direction: chicken or beef? French or Italian? Traditional or “one of those modern fusion affairs that look like abstract art on the plate”?

Her most significant contribution was the eleventh-hour decree that the menu should feature “something Chinese” because she’d recently enjoyed a delightful takeaway in Basingstoke. This directive sent shockwaves through the organization.

📈 Business Analysis (Specification and Feasibility)

Enter Miss Pemberton, our BA (Business Analyst), armed with ingredient inventories, supplier catalogs, and an encyclopedic knowledge of what our kitchen could and could not produce. When Lady Fotheringham requested “Chinese-style chicken,” Miss Pemberton conducted immediate feasibility analysis.

Her findings, delivered with the bedside manner of a doctor informing a patient that his skiing holiday must be postponed: “We can offer sweet and sour chicken or General Tso’s chicken. Szechuan preparation is unfortunately not viable, as Monsieur Alphonse, while brilliant with béarnaise, has never mastered Szechuan peppercorn technique, and our supplier cannot obtain the necessary ingredients within our timeline.”

Lady Fotheringham accepted sweet and sour with the grace of a woman who has just been told her yacht is only 90 feet long.

🚨 THE CRISIS POINT

At approximately 6:47 PM, all systems achieved what IT professionals apparently call “cascade failure”:

  • The Product Manager (Lady Fotheringham) requested a seventh course be added
  • The BA (Miss Pemberton) confirmed this was theoretically possible but would require 90 additional minutes
  • The chefs (Development) threatened mutiny
  • Quality Assurance (Miss Glossop) refused to approve anything rushed
  • DevOps (Tubby) pointed out the ovens were already operating at 127% of recommended capacity
  • Customer Service (Mrs. Delacourt) reported that guests were becoming “restive”
  • Management (this analyst) consumed three fingers of brandy

✨ RESOLUTION

Through what can only be described as a minor miracle—or possibly Miss Pemberton’s suggestion that we serve the wedding cake early and call it “Continental service style”—disaster was averted. The meal concluded at 11:15 PM. No guest departed hungry. Monsieur Alphonse received a standing ovation. Miss Glossop pronounced the final course “acceptable, with reservations.”

💡 CONCLUSIONS

Software development, one is forced to conclude, bears uncomfortable resemblance to catering large events:

  1. Everyone has opinions about the product
  2. Specifications change with alarming frequency
  3. The people building the thing are one crisis away from resignation
  4. Quality and speed maintain an adversarial relationship
  5. Infrastructure always fails at the worst possible moment
  6. Customer expectations exceed physical possibility
  7. Success is measured not in perfection, but in the absence of complete catastrophe

📝 RECOMMENDATION

This analyst recommends that software development firms consider hiring wedding caterers as management consultants. If one can coordinate Monsieur Alphonse, Miss Glossop, Lady Fotheringham, and a malfunctioning oven whilst 240 hungry aristocrats wait, one can surely manage a product release.

Respectfully submitted,

R. Psmith-Willoughby