Epicure Makes Sushi



A few months back, a friend's mom contacted me: she was part of this organization and they needed someone to supervise about 40 international students while they made dinner for the 150 people they stayed with over Christmas break. The students ranged in age from about 19 to 35. There were undergraduates and graduate students, a couple of MBA students and a seminary attendant.



I stayed up till 3 in the morning, immersed in the constant activity of the possessed. I made lists, more lists, maps, copies, spreadsheets, sent e-mails, printed things and left the printer running while I went to bed, where I slept lightly for about four hours. It was an 18-hour day, which is really OK by me.



The students were enthusiastic about the challenge, and were grouped by country. China and Taiwan, by far the largest group, made a menu of seven items. Not to be outdone, the Japanese students increased their menu from two to four. All of the students were optimistic, established leaders naturally, and worked diligently after I walked away. They were really quite a crew, although I failed to convince them that a dish could be cooked by fewer than 3 people. I got to chat with a woman from Tunisia who was very pleasant, and very particular about her salad. And I, the pig-worshipping Southerner, was forced to develop some sensitivity to the Muslim students' aversion to the bountiful pork that the Chinese students were mincing, making into dumpling, and frying.



I bought more food than I needed, per usual. But it's getting old, especially since this time I didn't stay in budget. I felt pretty bad watching the subtotal cross my spending limit.


Highlights of the day:


--Realizing that we were going to the International Farmer's Market on Buford Highway instead of the Dekalb Farmer's Market. The choice was fine, even practical given proximity and the need for different ingredients. But I'd copied maps of YDFM on the back of the shopping lists.


--Saying no to making dumpling skins and having make-your-own sushi for the buffet. The Chinese students made the dumpling skins anyway, but gave up when I showed them my old roomie's secret Chinese meatball recipe. (I'll give you a hint: it's just like dumplings, but without the skins.) And the Japanese student who had her heart set on sharing how much fun it was too make sushi went and moved the dumpling-cum-meatball project along. She also cleaned like a sport.


--Similarly, I loved watching the students go work with other groups. They worked very well together, and were incredibly positive the whole time. One Chinese girl in particular minced pork, made sushi and seemed to magically appear whenever someone needed an extra pair of hands. And one of the guys seemed to relish the repetitive prep tasks, and spent the entire time joking.


Admittedly, there was more than one time that I wanted a cigarette, just for the excuse to step out for a few minutes. I got pretty snappy more than once too, hearing three people calling my name all the time. I swore that next year, I'm printing "If it's not food, it's in the storeroom." on a T-shirt. I've heard fellow cooks say that cooks are the reason chefs don't have children. I believe it. I made a French Press of coffee at noon. I drank it at six. I might as well have been wandering around in a dirty T-shirt with stained jeans. Oh wait. I was.


Seriously, it was fun. Honest.


And when I delivered the leftovers to Cafe 458, I got to check out my old stomping grounds. It was looking pretty nice these days.