Trial by convection oven

[resonant]

I worked my first church supper yesterday, under the watchful, migraine-watery eye of the Chairwoman of Sighs. There's a lot I don't know (for instance, evidently the One Right Way of folding tablecloths is one of the Secrets of the Fellowship Committee), but I think I've got the cast of characters figured out.

You've got your Cheerful Workers. You've got your Friendly Socializers, for whom a hot pan can't stand in the way of a hug. You've got your Improvers, with a kindly word of advice for everyone, at all times, whether anyone asked for it or not, and particularly when it's already too late to change things. You've got your Volunteer Martyrs, who come in despite poor health because they can't bear to let anyone down, doing baffling things because they're not feeling well and thus not thinking well. You've got the fluttery-handed Willing But Helpless ones, who stand in the path of traffic and wait for someone to tell them what to do. You've got the Single-Minded, who choose one small detail (the cleanliness of the fronts of the cabinets, the latching of the back door, the supply of pepper in the pepper shakers) and see to it fiercely, oblivious to all else.

Me myself, I aspire to be an Invisible Hand when I'm in a kitchen not my own -- the one who notices when the pan of potatoes you're dishing out of is empty and whisks a full one into its place between the lifting and the lowering of the spoon. My mother and I used to cook together before I moved away. I miss it.

I believe the Chairwoman of Sighs thought I was going to be Willing But Helpless. At the end of the dinner, she said, "You've never worked with us before, so I wasn't sure, but I knew you'd be OK when you showed up with your own knife* and started smashing garlic cloves."

The first dinner I'll be in charge of is in January, but since it's the Annual Meeting, the menu is traditional (you might almost say it's liturgical) and the procedure is well-honed. My real test will be in February. Oh, the checklists I will make and the pre-chopping I will do! It's an odd thing to admit, but I'm looking forward to it.

Maybe if I get started, I can find some fellow cooks who sing.

* Best way to transport a big knife that doesn't have its own blade guard? With the blade stuck between the pages of a cookbook.

Comments

[malnpudl]

I would love to share kitchen duties with you. *wistful*

For the most part I love living alone. But I miss having someone to cook for and, especially, with. Add singing to the mix and it's... there's a picture of domestic contentment.

[resonant]

You know, while I don't think I've ever fantasized about doing anything naughty with my fellow fans, I often fantasize about cooking with or for them.

[quinfirefrorefiddle]

...

Yes. YES. YES! You have just described every church event I have ever been to, run, happened upon accidentally, or set in motion through no fault of my own.

Thank you!

[resonant]

set in motion through no fault of my own.

Funny how these things happen, isn't it? You sit down in a chair, and suddenly there's a potluck on the calendar.

[ecaterin]

ROFL!!!! I've met all these people before :D Hmmm. I fall somewhere between "cheerful worker" and "invisible hand" - when I'm not "volunteer martyr"-ing :D

But it's your title that really cracked me up - LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!

[resonant]

Those ovens are serious business, man. And you could definitely fit me inside one of them if you took the shelves out and folded me a bit.

[toft]

Your kitchen worker characterisations ring very true. Ahhh, the willing but helpless. I am poor at dealing with them. I get so impatient! The movements of a kitchen seem so obvious to me! It's even worse when they're teenagers (and, not to generalize, but it's mostly teenage boys) and their willing-but-helplessness translates to not even being able to reliably carry out the most basic of tasks. Like chopping a vegetable. (YOU HAVE TO TAKE THE STICKY LABELS AND MOULDY BITS OFF OFF).

Anyhow, I'm sure you'll be a magnificent meal-co-ordinator.

[resonant]

After all these years, the spouse is still willing but helpless. Also -- this is only partly his fault; the layout of our home kitchen is so bad that it has to be seen to be believed -- but somehow he unerringly comes to talk to me and leans against precisely the place where I'm getting ready to open a drawer!

The kidlet isn't quite invisible-hand yet, but she takes direction well and remembers things from one dinner to the next, unlike her absent-minded father. Now if I could just teach her to read ahead in the recipe and anticipate the next step ...

[toft]

Yeah, my mum's partner is like that too. It's a gift.

Sounds like the kidlet's on her way, though! That's great!

[sara]

Ha, church suppers!

I usually try to whisk in at the last moment with something buttery in a cake carrier, because my children aren't so much Invisible Hands as Invisible Entire Selves, Grabbing At Your Knees (I am not even kidding, the other day I very nearly crashed to the ground with a hot dish in my hands when the four-year-old decided that the best course of action was to tackle me about the knees. UM, NO. Undying four-year-old love is fabulous, but does not combine well with hot casserole.)

[resonant]

Oh, yeah, no. Between the age when you can park them in their strollers like lumps of bread dough and the age when they flee the kitchen on their own initiative for fear of being handed a wooden spoon, you really can't do much of anything in the kitchen with kids around.

[fanofall]

You are the kind of church dinner worker I always wanted to be. :-D (P.S. Church-social preparing and cleaning ALWAYS goes faster with singing.)