Meanwhile Back on the Ranch

Yeah sorry about the unscheduled stop in my blogging adventures...Everything kind of went bonkers at the same time and I could barely find time to tie my shoes, much less compose sentences. Work has been chugging right along, with the modification that I am being trained now to do all my own bookkeeping and spreadsheets etc. Its more work, but the good news is that they are going to pay me for it. So that's a plus.
The holiday time is upon us now, and once again, I have failed to make Christmas cookies. But since we know I am not a baker, that really isn't all that surprising. The good news almost all of my shopping is done, all that is left are things that I am doing for others. I am home with my family now and surrounded my all the lovely decorations and music and that is very good.
Some rest is welcome and I plan to enjoy it to the highest. So, in my annual message, get out there, do some good somewhere, help somebody.

Noel.

Fool's Games

I go to the library for books and internet access. On any given Saturday morning, you can find me here as the doors open, hoping to snag my usual spot, far from the madding crowds. I work on my blog, pay my bills, email, yadda yadda. Of course this morning I forgot is the last day for early voting in my county. Libraries are polling places here, which means that the parking lot, which is already tight, is ridiculous. And I'm being accosted by wackos with fliers wanting me to vote for their candidate or their cause or whatever. Now, political activism is all very well, until you get in my way when I'm trying to do my thing, then, I will run you over in my car and not even flinch. I realize that seems crass, but it's true. Never in my life have I been so disgusted with my own government. Never have I known so much and so little at the same time. My Dad always says I should vote, because otherwise I can't complain, and I always say I will not lend my vote or my strength to that which I wish to be free from. So when the chipper little county commissioner candidate comes bearing down on me, with her big hair and bigger smile, rather than ignoring her like I do most of them, I looked her dead in the eye and said, "No I won't be voting. I have no government. I am at the mercy of thieves and tyrants."

I think she understood me.

The Heat

Sorry for the delay in posting, but everything decided to happen all at the very same time. You've seen that bumper sticker, "They say to take one day at a time, but lately several have attacked me at once?" That's been me. My one great hope is to get to the gym this week. If I could get 2 days, I would consider myself accomplished.

So, here's what's been going on...I got a little catering job, a brunch for about 15 people, on a Saturday. I thought, hey that's swell, I could use the extra money. Then a day or so later, the owner of where I work says, "Hey, I'm having dinner for about 20, can you cater it?" and it is...wait for it...Saturday night. So I have to get everything together, keep my receipts all seperate, make list after list after list, make an emergency run to Target for ramekins and work a straight 16 hour day. But all was not in vain, everything went well. People came, they ate, they seemed to enjoy it. I washed so many dishes that I thought my hands would fall straight off, but they didn't. I crawled into a hot bath at 1130PM.

This is why I don't do two shows a night, babe, I just won't do it.

Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

Maybe you don't realize, but not all apples hail from Washington. North Carolina is big apple country. So last weekend, the Divine Mrs. M (yep, she's back!) and I rode up to Hendersonville to Stepp Orchard to pick some apples. It was warmer than we might have liked, and we probably picked way more apples than we needed, but hey, if we get tired of canning and pies, there's always cake, bread and cookies. :-)

My computer is now deciding it won't load my pictures, won't save them as jpegs and is openly mocking me. I will post pictures soon.

Stay tuned...

Not Fade Away

I always post something for 9/11. It's such a huge part of my life, not in the sense that I know anyone who died, or survived, but that it is the marker between child and adult for me. One minute I was 21 years old, finishing up my less-than-stellar college career and my biggest worries were where we were going to hang out that weekend and would I find a job once I graduated. At 10:00 AM that morning, those worries ceased to be important. Meg and I came down the stairs just in time to see the first tower fall and we just stared. Our lives altered in that one morning and they've never been the same since.

The History Channel has been running their documentaries all week. I watch some of them, avoid others. There is one thing that sticks out in my mind every year this day comes around. The thing I notice most is this: I have lost faith in my government. My security has been shown to be as spurious as starlight. But I have never lost faith in the people of my country. Every year, I see the evidence, as I watch those towers come down over and over again. Because while everything else was crumbling, these people did not fail. We did not go gently into the night. We ran up the stairs, into the flames, fought for our planes and brought them down. Our government failed us, but we did not fail ourselves. We did not fade away. We were Americans.

And I'm proud of that.

Alpha

It's been awhile since I've posted but I've been busy. Getting ready for a new school year, turning 30, trying to lose weight, you know, the usual suspects. So while I technically have a great many stories to share, I can tell you that I doubt I will get to them all.
I can tell you that in honor of my 30th birthday, my beloved sister attempted to kill me by dragging me up a cargo net ladder and down a zip line. She did it too, but she waited till I went off the platform first, and when I didn't die, she went. However, in a weird genetic similarity, we both have a lack of coordination that refuses to let us do something like that and land on our feet. So we both landed on our, ahem, posteriors.
In retrospect, though I went over and tried to help her up off the ground, considering she tried to kill me...

I should've kicked her.

Measure for Measure

Recently, a question was presented to me. Why do we use different measures for liquid and for dry product? Well, the short answer is because they are different things that measure differently. Here's the ugly truth though. Neither one is entirely accurate. In a kitchen, weight is a more accurate measure. Especially with dry goods. But who in the world keeps a scale in their kitchen? Very few.
So here's the skinny: Liquids and dry goods measure differently because they have different masses. So 8 oz is a cup in liquid, but pour it into a dry measure cup and you will come up short; because the dry measure cup has to account for things with more mass than a liquid. Cups vs ounces, but a pint is a pound the world around.
I encourage everyone to try this experiment in their home. Pour a cup of water into a liquid measure, then pour it to a dry measure of the same amount and see what you get. Then do the reverse, with flour or sugar, keep in mind if you use flour you have to level and tap it down. Sugar doesn't have that issue, since it is granulated.

Well that is my kitchen physics lesson of the day.

"Some rise by sin, some by virtue fall" ---Measure for Measure, Shakespeare

The Quiet

Aaahhhhh...and that's the game, folks.

Farenheit 101

13 days left in this year. Not that I'm counting. I got another health inspection, and rocked the house with 101 points. Finally beat McDonald's. 2 more weeks of kids getting crazier and crazier until they implode, or I do. Managing my recalcitrant kitchen equipment, threatening and cajoling by turns. Propping everything up for just 2 more weeks.

And this morning, flying ants in my dining hall.

Must be Thursday.

Cuz I'm Awesome

It's May now and the school year is coming into the home stretch. The kids are squirelly, the teachers are tired, I'm cranky and sore. But since the kids have been mostly good ones most of the year, I gave them a bit of a treat. Since we had curly fries, I went ahead and deep-fried them. I was a god.
One of the teachers asked why I don't deep fry them all the time. I explained that if I didn't care about their health, I would. Frying is easy, fast and doesn't dirty up all my sheet pans. But I do care about what they eat. I can't do anything about their diet at home or anywhere else, so maybe I'm not helping, but the least I can do is not hurt them.
It's like the Hippocratic Oath, "First, do no harm."
So I was revered and celebrated today. Which should make it funny on Monday when they realize there's Super Salads for lunch.

Chef giveth and Chef taketh away.

Charlie Brown

1. I walked in the door this morning and my freezer was 35 degrees.

2. The ice machine had no ice.

3. The salisbury steak was no good. Had to change the menu.

I have informed my kitchen that if anything else wants to break, do it now while I still have momentum.

Why is everybody always picking on me?

Can You Even Do It?

Sometimes I wonder if I should have become a chef at all. Sure I like it, but I also like to dance and believe me when I say I can't dance. At all. Just because I like something doesn't mean I should attempt to do it for a living. But I've made my bed, and this week, someone short-sheeted it. Every dumb mistake I could make, I've made.

I tried to roast veggies for sandwiches, didn't set the oven timer and walked off. Needless to say, when I remembered them, they were carbonized shadows of their former selves.

I ordered chicken legs for lunch and they brought me drumsticks. Not the same thing at all. So I sent them back and I had to scramble to find something to feed the first group of kids. Granted this one was not entirely my fault, but a smart chef would have ordered the chicken for the day before. Sometimes I do that, but had no room in the cooler to store it.

You know, I bet I could become a plumber...

First To Go

They say your memory goes as you get older and I think they may be right. Because last week, I went into work to put a turkey in the oven for the next day. I took the turkey out of the fridge, placed it on the table. Turned on the hood and the oven. Went and did a few things while waiting for the oven to heat. Then I locked the doors and turned out the lights and went home. When I got to work the next morning, what do you think I saw on the table...

The *#^#&* turkey.

Save the Libraries!!

I'm blogging right now from my local branch library, Morrison Regional. Friends, they are closing all our libraries! April 3, the doors close on this one, Myers Park, Scaleybark, and many many others. Why? Because the budget has been cut. Because the city/county wants something else besides programs for our kids, books, research materials, Internet access for those who can't afford it (like me) and a community gathering place! What could be more important than libraries?
It is appalling and if you live in this community, maybe you don't use the library every day, but you know if you needed to, it would be there.

Not anymore.

FIGHT THIS!!! CALL YOUR COUNCILPEOPLE!!! DONATE!!!!

Friendly Fire

I've been under the weather lately. Benadryl is my newest best friend, and Claritin can get me thru a day. However for the past two days, I've not taken my Claritin and consequently, get these boggling headaches about halfway thru my day. So I pull the Tylenol from the secured location and took two. Yesterday, I took the last two. I put the bottle on the table to throw away before I left.

I forgot.

The people in charge of things did a walk thru and discovered my forgetfulness. While not an unpardonable sin, it is a definite black mark on a mostly-spotless record. Gah. That's enough to put my head on a swivel for the rest of the year.

Sigh.

Here's the thing I learned: People can be friendly but that does not make them your friends. It pays to remember that your job exists at the sufferance of someone else.

Bring your A game.

The Inmates are Running the Asylum

Yes, indeedy they are. Hamburger day is always busy, but then the boss shows up and wants to chat, and the QC people for the company show up and that's a time suck...Then there's a drama production for lower school so they need lunches early, but come in even earlier than they should...It was 3PM before dishes were done and paperwork is yet to be done...

It's a two-martini night. Dirty. Two olives.

Rain on My Parade

Fridays are generally a good day. Especially on a pay week. Everyone is happy, even the kids. After all, it's Sloppy Joe day, what could be bad about that? Unless it's raining...and raining...and raining. Unless the patch on the roof doesn't hold and the rain comes through the roof of the dining hall. Unless your hood system starts to sound like a car with a troubled transmission. But the show must go on, there are still kids to feed. So you hang on and hope they can get it fixed over the weekend and you go on home. You live to fight another day. Sometimes I meet other chefs, and when they hear about what I do, they chuckle and say what a cushy job I have. I want to slap those people. Because they can close shop and go home. I cannot. They have to worry about the occasional visit from a health inspector. I have two health inspectors. They do payroll and orders and some accounting. I have audits, corporate visits, payroll, orders and flashes.

If this is cushy, I don't want to see hard.

Just One Good Day

That is my wish for this week. I just want a nice, normal, not-strung-up-on-wires day. I feel like I've been living the last month plus in a state of permanent hysteria. I've been worried about inspections, caterings, my co-worker falling ill and the general panic induced by trying to toe the line. Even when the line is dumb. Even when they move the line. I'm tired, I'm eating crap, I'm not exercising and I miss Christmas. But I am hanging on by my fingernails and teeth. Even though part of me wants to say "Chuck it" and run away to my mom's house, where my mom will make me dinner and my dad will solve all my problems. I miss the days when it was that easy. It isn't anymore and being an adult largely sucks. So I'm just waiting for a better day.

But home is calling.