...and then I stop eating.

Sometimes, when my kitchen gets really messy, I just look for already-prepared or just-heat-me-up sort of foods. When I eat all of those, I sometimes more or less stop eating.
I cleaned my kitchen the other day. A clean kitchen just begs to be used. I used it to make bread. Mmmmmm....

and a video.

100 (Serving is hard)

I realize that it isn't the privileged I despise so much as the complainers. Today I (along with 3 others from my church, a 'meal team') prepared a meal for 50 people at a local homeless shelter. We do this about 4 times a year.

You really can't please everyone. We do our best to mix it up, we know a lot of people make the shelter guests baked ziti, so we stray away from that. The guidelines are that we keep it a balanced meal - a protein, a starch, a vegetable.

The meal we prepared tonight was one of my conception: black bean soup, crusty bread, tossed salad (with avocado!) and caramel brownies. I did the shopping, which wouldn't have been a big deal had it not been a trying week, and if I didn't have two serving commitments fall on the same evening. I felt I should probably do the shopping because, as my friend Gerri Sherry puts it, I'm a purist. (The brownies were boxed, only add water nonetheless, and the caramel was pre-made cubed. Does it make me more or less a purist that I did that, and that I'm bringing it up now?) I thought home made bread would be cheaper and more delicious. And, if you've checked out this dutch oven long-rise bread thing, you'll know that very little elbow grease is required.

But I never considered how awesome it would be to prepare a quantity of long rise bread for 50. Hmmph.

Oh right, complainers.

So I get there and there is a guest sitting down watching TV, and she asks me what we're having for dinner. "Oh. Vegetarian." She grumbles, clearly disappointed. I correct her and explain that it technically is not, as I'm using chicken stock, but she has stopped listening and probably doesn't care. Apparently, she is from the school of gourmands who consider any meal without a meat course Not A Meal (a snack?).

So the four of us use the entire two hours allotted to prepare this meal (and then some), and when we serve it and sit down to eat, the woman from earlier reappears. She is angry at the lack of colored beverage in the dispenser. There is plenty of water, but the flavored 'drink' is really low, because the staff is about to change flavors, so they are watching carefully for it to run out.

She walks in, yells "THERE'S NOTHING TO EAT AND NO KOOL AID!" and slams the door on her way out to the patio. The four of us do our best to suppress our reactions. There is a full pot of Panera quality (or better!) black bean soup two feet tall and wider than the circle I can make with my arms, a huge mound of fresh baked crusty bread slices, and a very large bowl of salad, tossed greens, spinach, carrots, celery, cucumber, tomatoes and avocado.

Nothing to eat.

The guests sitting with us think she's ridiculous, and let us know. "She's never satisfied," they say. 'Oh yea, what does she like?' I ask.

"I don't know and frankly, I don't care!" exclaims an old man I have trouble hearing (or maybe just understanding). We share a slight chuckle and the other guests go on to say that this woman would only be satisfied with steak or lobster. One suggests she hitchhike to Maine. "This isn't a hotel. This is a shelter. You're lucky you've got food," one notes. It is good to hear that most of the guests are level-headed and appreciative. They praise the meal, telling me how it was delicious and filling. One guest even talked to us for a while, sharing with us how our presence was a real Godsend for him, as he discussed spiritual things with some of us. He detailed his appreciation, for our company, for the meal, for the fellowship.

Serving is hard, but sometimes, there are moments that make it all worth while.

This Week Sucked.

Why? 10 hour days essentially babysitting private school kids....and every kid I've ever disliked (below fifth grade) at that school showed up. A few kids I'd never met before proved themselves to also be annoying, or perhaps annoying and later cute.

Highlights, Lowlights, Things I've Observed:

1. Playing cards with cheat peekers is lame. Peek Sneeker. Pete Seeger.
2. Playing battleship with liars, or kids too little to realize that they are lying is lame.
3. Hungry Hungry Hippos is the noisiest game that does not claim to be noisy.
4. Hungry Hungry Hippos does not fit in its box.
5. I took my favorite kid to help me feed the K/1 frogs. He dumped sooo much food in that the next day one could not make out the frogs through the water. Oops.
6. I can predict what a child will grow up to be based on little things they say (which are essentially direct quotes from the people I know that they will grow up to be like)
7. Electronics out doors is super lame. One fourth grade girl, showing off her fancy new iPod touch seeks shade during playground recess so she could play with her apps. Or watch WALL-E. Oh, the irony.
8. Lame app: toast. Who wants to toast digital bread, add digital toppings, and digitally eat it? Wouldn't it be better to have actual toast? It is cheap, quick, and delicious.
9. One boy, who would become my favorite and the cutest (he is five) kept getting stuck in this part of the playground. I would lift him up and out. One time, he called me "Emmmilly!" 'Stuck again?' I say, and as I get close to him he jumps free of the playground equipment and taunts: "tricked ya, tricked ya, now you've gotta kiss me!"

10. One little girl (4yr old) asked if she could go to her cubby. Another little girl told the first girl that she would be joining her on the walk to her cubby. 'Wait! You have to ask" we tell her. "Oh Sorry!" and turning to the first little girl: "Can I go with you to your cubby?"

11. Guess Who is racist. There is not a single non-white person on the board. Some may disagree. I always thought she was Italian. Furthermore, how many redheads are in this crowd of people? How many redheads are usually? Don't get my wrong, I love me some redheads, but c'mon. (Also, only a handful of women....)


We made bread, hummus, and butter. I almost lost my head at one little girl in particular. She is say....five, and I would do an impersonation of her but I can't bring myself to vlog. So try this: put on your whiniest, most high pitched voice. Be sure to annunciate all your consonants. Now pretend that you are a five year old trying to argue your point to an adult who has already told you 'NO'. Try one of these on for size:

- Why cant we go on the little kids playground?
- But I don't want to make butter. I don't want any butter on my bread.*
- But I want an oompa loompa now Daddy!

*This one really pushed me over the edge. Let me tell you that the only reason bread was made that day (today) was so that there would be something to put the butter ON. If you can't even have the decency to shake the container with the marble, you don't deserve any bread. I just started mocking her and going off:
"ohh, ohh, I hate this, I don't want to do this and Emily sucks and Emily is lame and the activities that she prepared are totally boring and I'll have no part in them" and the other little kids said "Emily, your face is getting all red" while the little girl I was...attacking?...(ohh, no! who am I?) stammered her explanations.

Butter:

Bread:

and when I got home I actually used some of my compost (for the first time ever)

to plant cattle beans.

By the way, the "compost-able" Ben & Jerry's corn cup came out looking the same a year later.

::Angelic Noise::