When Chef Vin spotted me in the cafeteria line today, he waved me aside, whipped open the oven door behind him, reached inside with an oven mitt, and presented me with a special plate of rice and beans topped with salsa and melted cheese, with a side of green beans with garlic and sauteed mushrooms, all made from scratch.
"I put together a veggie plate for you," he said in his usual unassuming, understated manner. (I blogged about Chef Vin here in item 3.)
I seriously almost cried.
I can count on one hand the number of people who have taken the time to cook something delicious for me in the past year: my friend Susan (Moroccan barley and chick pea salad with teriyaki tofu), my mother (shredded tofu with celery, carrots in a sesame dressing), and my sister Mimi (the most amazing homemade stuffing with cornbread, cranberry pecan bread, butternut squash, and Gorgonzola).
I love living alone, I do. But living alone means the only meals coming out of this kitchen are the ones I make. So when someone else cooks for me, I'm putty. I want to sink to my knees and wrap my arms around their legs like a supplicant.
Today Chef Vin's thoughtfulness and TLC made me yearn for the days of elementary school when my mom and grandma would send us to school with gourmet lunches packed in thermal containers or cute bento boxes with matching chopsticks/cutlery sets. While other kids ate assorted sandwiches in their household's rotation, we enjoyed homemade maki rolls, Grandma's fried rice, pork chops with onions and rice (those were the days when I still ate meat), and so many favorites.
Oh, those were the days. I marvel at my grandma and mom's love poured into the sustenance they created on a daily basis. How on earth did they do it?
How awesome to get such special lunches packed by your mom and grandma! And, when someone else cooks for you it always tastes so much better!
ReplyDeleteYes, I always think scrambled eggs taste better when someone else makes them. Or salads. Even sandwiches. Yum!
DeleteSo when someone else cooks for me, I'm putty. I want to sink to my knees and wrap my arms around their legs like a supplicant. <-- <-- THIS!! so much THIS! love your writing!
ReplyDeleteDitto! This line is my favorite.
DeleteI can feel your appreciation - love that you became like putty because he cooked for you. So sweet!
ReplyDeleteWow! I can understand your joy when Chef Vin handed you a specially-prepared vegetarian meal! Your memories of Bento box lunches are a great way to thank your mother and grandmother for amazing meals. Your sister's stuffing sounds delicious.
ReplyDeleteI love this piece for a couple of reasons, but one is definitely that you (and a few others around school, I know) have such a solid relationship with Chef Vin! I don't think I've ever talked to him -- I just don't venture into the cafe! Though teachers rarely acknowledge it, the multi-faceted lives of our non-teaching staff is so important to the fabric of our schools, and if nothing else, that is my takeaway from your post today.
ReplyDeleteAriel is right: there are so many people in our school that make the school run and are excellent at what they do. Yet, no one knows them. That's why it's been such a delight to do the profile writing with my writing class. It's unofficially called the secret stories of CRLS, but it gives folks like Vin some shine that is so well-deserved.
DeleteI can so relate. I live pretty much alone-- my boys are grown, live at my house, but work from 3-11 every day, so I rarely cook. When someone cooks for me, or even invites me to eat with them, I am so happy!
ReplyDeleteBreaking bread is primal. So good for the soul.
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