I'm becoming my mom: a neurotic controlling very particular
about details and having my own space version of my mom. Yep. Thanks mom!
This past weekend, my community hosted the annual JVC
Midwest prom. It was a nice way to blow off steam and kind of just be goofy for
a weekend. As part of the festivities, we provided dinner for all our guests.
Of course, as someone who's obsessed with cooking and good cooking, I
volunteered to cook this meal. I thought, hey, I cook for 4 people often
enough. How much harder would it be for 25 people? I thought, hey, my mom or my
aunt does it regularly enough for parties. How much harder would it be when I'm
in my 20s and know how to cook? Yeah, so sue me for being naïve.
So I laid out this menu in my head of our community dinner
staples: squash casserole, mac and cheese, chili, dumpling soup, and risotto. I
said to myself, I got this. Preparations started when Kevin went grocery
shopping on Wednesday. I don't think any of us had ever seen our refrigerator
and pantry that full. In college, I was lucky to have some bananas, pasta
sauce, eggs, pasta, ramen, and baaaaaaaaaaaccooooooon in my side of the kitchen.
We had 4 dozen eggs, two bags of spinach and salad greens, a bundle of
asparagus, a bag of brussel sprouts, a box of mushrooms, 4 bags of cheese, a
bag of carrots, a bag of celery, 4 cans of beans, two heads of broccoli, 6
sweet peppers, 3 bags of onions, a bundle of kale, 2 bulbs of fresh garlic, 3
large sweet potatoes, 10 lb of regular potatoes, 4 cans of tomato sauce, 2 cans
of diced tomatoes, half a gallon of milk, 2 extra-large boxes of pasta, a box
of Arborio rice, a club-sized butternut squash, and a partridge in a pear tree…
Even with that mountain of food, I was
still brash about handling it all myself.
Cooking began Thursday night to prep the casseroles so I can
just pop it in the oven on Saturday. After two and a half hours of cooking, I
was already tired of it, but I still looked forward to finish up on Saturday.
On Saturday, I think I finished up cooking everything in about another three
hours of kitchen time. So what did I learn? Food for 25 people is a LOT. I love
cooking. I'm a very particular and detailed human being. I love stepwise
organization. The kitchen became my sanctuary from chaos. You would think that
the process would be messy, but I found that I was very methodical in the
process. The kitchen became my lab or my OR. I controlled everything and it was a good change of pace when I control nothing at work.
Growing up, my mom always cooked. It's not uncommon for my
mom to be awake at 5 am in the morning prepping for parties. For appetizers my
mom would have homemade salsa, guacamole, garlic cheese, and artichoke dips. For
the main course she would cook seafood mornay, salpicao, beef steak, chicken
adobo, turkeys, stuffing, and whatever the occasion might call. For desserts
she would bake food for the Gods (my community has benefited from those nuggets
of date-y goodness), nut cups, and brownies. You can say food has always been a
part of my life. I never really have appreciated how much my mom does until I
decided to do it myself. Now, I think I get why mom does it (she'll complain
once in a while, but I know she loves it).
 | |
| The meal is served |
It's because the kitchen is a place of love. Yeah, it's hot,
muggy, and a lot of work: just look at the blisters on my finger. None of that
matters though. There's something to be said about the love and trust that
people put into the cook. It says: hey, for this meal, I'm putting my
well-being in your hands; make sure I don't get sick, and I would also
appreciate it if it tastes good; get to it! Yeah, I think that's a tall order
with a lot of love and trust associated when you know the cook. That love and
trust goes the other direction too. Cooks do it because they want to showcase
their love for those that will eat their meal. My mom holds family higher than
anything. This year, I have not gotten a chance to know all the JVs personally,
but I have bonded with them without any words being shared. The work we do make us
all intimate with brokenness, confusion, loss, and, once in a while, hope and
relief. It's obvious that we all have
gone through it. So, to me, it became a mission to make sure that they have a
good meal out of their trek to Detroit. It's that simple really. You cook for
the people you love. Thanks mom.
