You know, I hate my job. Meaning, I love working for a newspaper and I love having a food column and I love the day-to-day office stuff, but I hate sales. I wanted to be a chef when I grew up. Well, a writer/chef. Sales is what I ended up with. So doing a catering job feels pretty good, really.
Wanna hear the menu? Pepper crusted steak on garlic crostini with horseradish cream, chicken satay, sweet and sour meatballs (that was a request - I don't like meatballs myself at all), spinach-artichoke dip, spinach parmesan balls (what's with all the spinach here?), assorted crudites with smokey ranch dip, and buckeyes and chocolate dipped macarooons.
Pretty failsafe, eh? I even did lots of stuff ahead of time - I've been cooking all week. And then we get up this morning...no power. I stayed in bed a little while thinking about this. "Yes, I paid the power bill. What if it got lost? Would it be worth it to call the power company? I don't want to call the power company - our last bill was late. What if they mention it? What if the power is off because they didn't get that payment? Do my neighbors have power?" I ended up calling the power company...turns out over 2,000 people were without power (reason: unknown(?!?)) and the power would be turned on by 10.50. I was supposed to deliver food at 11.30.
12.15, no power.
Thank God, my darling husband (who already got me a wonderful Christmas present so has got many, many points on this side) leapt to my relief with his grill - the poor man grilled all morning. I suspect that the flavor of everything was much improved by this, but still...jumping to the grill? On Christmas Eve? With no coffee? (I did make
We got all the food to the destination in two shifts, and, as far as I can tell, was well-received by all. Was this a sign that I ought to give up my culinary dreams? Nah....
Was it a sign that I need to get my man a gas grill? Probably...