Dish Best Served Cold - Leighann Dobbs
1
Sarah adjusted her black chef’s beret hat and tucked a strand of her long brown hair up under it in the back. She took a deep breath and looked around the large kitchen, pleased with how it looked. As usual, it was spotless, something that she insisted on. She liked everything in its place, and her staff knew that. The previous night had been hectic with an event, but one would never know it from how the kitchen looked now. The floors had already been polished and all of the rubber mats scrubbed clean, and the dozens of pots and pans hanging from the rows of racks were gleaming. All of the chef’s cutlery was clean, the knives were sharpened, and everything hung in its appropriate place.
“What is that smell? It’s amazing!”
Sarah smiled at Sue, one of the office workers at O’Rourke’s Signature Events. Sue made her way down to the kitchen daily, regardless of whether there were events going on or not. She knew that Sarah was almost always experimenting in the kitchen and that she welcomed feedback. Sarah often placed food in one of the large refrigerators with a Try Me sign on top of the container, and the staff was always more than willing to help her out.
“Thanks. It’s for the tasting tomorrow night. It’s mashed cauliflower with garlic and rosemary. So many people are on low-carb diets, I figured I would add a spin on regular mashed potatoes, hoping that no one even realizes it’s not potatoes! Try some.”
She grabbed a large spoon and scooped out a mound for Sue, who eagerly grabbed the spoon from her and tasted it.
“Oh my God. You’ve done it again. I would have no idea that this wasn’t mashed potatoes if you hadn’t told me. How is this even possible? Amazing.”
“Well, it did take me about three tries before I perfected it. I plan on serving sliced Kobe beef with it, and I didn’t want the flavor to overpower the beef. Sometimes it takes forever to get the flavors just right, so that they aren’t overwhelming. I don’t want it to flop.”
“Oh, it won’t. Like always, it’s perfect.”
“Thanks. Tell whoever else is in that they are welcome to come have some. I’ll place it in the usual spot, and they can warm it up in the microwave.”
Sue thanked her again and left, and Sarah transferred the food into a large plastic container and put a sticky note on it. She would make a new batch tomorrow for the tasting. She never allowed day-old food to be served. Everything had to be fresh. Her kitchen, her rules.
After wiping her hands on a dish towel, she grabbed the top of the trash bag from the canister and pulled it out, twisting the top and tying it shut as she did so. She walked to the rear door and pushed it open with her hip. A few feet outside the door, she started to slide down the pavement, almost as if she were on a patch of ice. Except it was May, so slipping on ice was impossible. Her legs started to go in different directions, as if she were going to do a split, and her arms flailed around helplessly. Grabbing onto the trash bag with both arms tightly, she hugged it, thinking that if she fell forward, at least this would buffer her fall a bit.
She started to pick up speed down the ramp, the rubber soles on her clogs only making it worse when she attempted to pull her legs back together to try to stop sliding.
“Heeelp!” she cried out to no one in particular. She was alone, and aside from the kitchen staff and delivery people, no one was ever around back.
Finally, she was able to gain her balance when she was almost at the bottom of the walkway near the dumpster. Standing still for a minute, she tried to catch her breath. Then she slowly walked to the large dumpster, hurled the trash bag into it, and looked at the ground where she had slid.
Dang it! She had told her staff to make sure they were careful when they emptied the trash because the spills could be extremely slippery due to grease. Someone could easily break an arm or a leg, and when you were a chef, breaking either meant you were out of a job for a while. She walked over to the barrel that held sand in it, grabbed the giant scoop inside, and threw some sand