No, I didn't take a header into a vat of mashed potatoes. And no, I haven't been carting around an entire turkey carcass proudly wearing a T-Shirt with the slogan, "I Can't Believe I Ate The Whole Thing", though I admit the t-shirt thing did cross my mind Thursday night as I lay my head down for the night. Instead of the nightly sip (ok, gulp) of peach brandy to keep this persistent little bastard of a cold from grasping it's spiney hands upon my body, I popped a couple of Tums with a water chaser.

Good Lord we had a lot of food. Obtuse amounts, actually. I am almost embarassed when I think back to the parade of gluttony put before me, when all I really wanted was The Grandmother's Jello.

Anyway.

No, no t-shirt, no vat o' spuds, I've been spending time with family and trying to escape The Great Snowstorm of '06. I've also been fielding numerous calls from a semi-hysterical bride wondering what all this ice and snow is going to do to her wedding on Friday. I wish I had the answer, but I don't.

But by God I've got the brandy...

Have a wonderful, blessed and very Happy Thanksgiving.

I hope the day finds your hearts and your tables full.

I was in The Grocery Store this morning and saw two women get into a stare down over the last jar of Pimento Stuffed Olives.

It's not so much the joy of the season I love so much, it's the Hand to Hand combat happening all over The Grocery Store I find so entertaining.

Good times are a coming, people.

Good times are a coming.

Got a message this morning... "Hi! This is Debbie. I was at The Trick you did a couple of weeks ago and would like to get on the calendar for our company party on November 29th. It will be pretty straightforward, so please give me a call to discuss!"

"Well, we're booked. I don't know what else to say. Everyone we are working with over the next six weeks had the sense of mind to book early."

That's when she hung up on me.

There was a day I would worry about that - worry about upsetting someone enough to hang up on me. I will be honest, I can't remember those days very well. I mean, they were a really long time ago when I cared enough to be upset about someone getting mad at me for something that's not my fault. I think that was about the time I got a martini shaker for Christmas and my world changed forever...

Anyone who has anything to do with the food industry knows that one of the greatest challenges of any restaurant or catering business owner is finding good help. This industry is not an easy one, it's often thankless. The hours are insane, and serving the public has it's... moments.

There are a couple schools of thought on the issue. You have those who want to be in this business, and love the work that they do. And there are others who end up in this business because it's a way to make a quick buck even though they believe with all of their heart and soul that restaurant/food work is completely beneath them. So - be grateful they show up for work and don't give them a hard time. There are days when it seems like we're dealing more with the former rather than the latter, and then there are days you consider closing up shop because you can't possibly take one more complaint, mistake or whine.

We have been really blessed in this area. For the most part. I mean, we've had our struggles, but no more than the average place. One of the hardest positions to keep staffed is that of the dishwasher. And I get that. It's the dirtiest, most thankless job out there. You stand at a station scraping people's nasty plates into an even nastier garbage bin. You're elbow-up in water, and you are at the mercy of people yelling at you for plates, glassware and everything in between. Sure you get tipped out at the end of the night, but when you go home and find some sort of sauce crusted to your clothes, and a stray piece of wet lettuce caught in your shoe lace, it is tough to get excited about any of it.

As a result that part of our staff is consistently young - kids who need the money to pay their cell phone text bill, or whatever it is kids do these days. (God I am old)

So the dish washing position at The Restaurant is akin to finding Murphy Brown a good secretary - each day there seems to be a new face. And either they leave because they hate it -or they leave because we don't encourage them to come back.

One of the night workers has been a challenge since day one. But she did her job well. Sort of. We gave her all kinds of leeway because she seemed nice and really wanted to work. But then it became apparent that she only was working because her father made her, and SHE HATED WORKING. A shout we often heard while she was out back dumping the garbage.

And hey - who doesn't hate working when they are dumping the garbage?

But to alleviate her own misery she started exhibiting odd behavior. It all started with the, 'I am not going to speak the entire night' route. Not a word from her. You would ask her something - you would get a stare. Nothing. She would do whatever you asked. But there was no verbal response of any kind. Just a look - if you were lucky.

And then there was the phase where she would break out into a deep belly laugh - just for no reason. Well, for no reason apparent to the rest of us. It seemed like perhaps she was finding ways to amuse herself - or plotting all of our deaths. Either way - sort of creepy.

Then the 'no speaking' rule turned into singing only. She started singing her answers. It was like walking into Les Miserables every night. "We need side plates, please."

"Siiide plates.... SIIIIIIDEEEE PLAAAAAAAAATESSSSS.... oh the troubles with siiiiide plaaaaatesss....Look down, look down You'll always be a slave..."

"Can you get me the back up of onions, please."

"The Onion... The onion... ohhhhhh the mighty onion... I stole a loaf of breaaaaddd..."

I tried to find it quirky, but I have to be really honest here...the fact that she was working so closely with cutlery was a concern to me. I mean, you can't fire someone for being weird. Because let's be honest - I'm the queen of weird. But when a person chooses not to use her words, but instead sing of the virtues of the salad fork - it's time to revisit the schedule.

Thankfully she needed a leave of absence to get her studies in order and prepare for college applications, etc. I don't think she will be back. Which would not be the worst thing. But if she should come back, I am thinking we are going to change our classification to dinner theater.

Ok I need your help.

I don't think need to repeat the mantra that I am not a baker, but I am totally not a baker.

The pie crust thing - well - all the great advice you have given me in the past hasn't done much but confirm I can't bake a damn pie crust to save my life. Seriously - someone holds a gun to my head and says, "Make a pie crust or it's over", I would raise my hands and say, "... make it quick..."

So as a cruel form of punishment I have been asked to make a sweet potato pie with a streusel topping. Now - does anyone have a tried and true recipe for this? And is there such a beast with a crust other than a typical pastry?

I've done the sweet potato pie with a gingersnap crust. And, well, the filling was great. The crust was akin to a gingery mass of caramelized sugar and burned butter. I tried to use that, "Oh the first slice is so hard..." But the truth was the first slice was just an indication of the doom about to befall anyone silly enough to try a bite.

So I need help - send the recipes to my e-mail, or post them in comments. I will try them - all. And post the results.

It will either be a really great triumph, or be a really great testament to just how pathetic I am.

Thanks.

*sigh*

Finally - down time. A clear schedule. A break before the Christmas Madness. Where did all the time go? Is it me or did this year go by faster than any other. I could swear it was just July, and in a blur of madness and serving platters here I am on November 12 wondering where the hell last few months went.

So many things to do. So many things to catch up on. So many projects at home.

The Husband has already been warned I will be home, I will be cleaning, sorting, organizing, planning - and I will be bored by Tuesday. "Slow down", the doctor said. "Reduce your stress by doing less". How do I tell the man that down time stresses me out? I am one of those sick people who needs something to do - a focus. A plan.

Anyway.

If this morning is any indication of how the next two weeks are going to go I will be ready to get back in The Catering Van to head off to my next adventure - even though the first Trick of the holiday onslaught is shaping up to be a head banger.

I was wide awake at 6:00 this morning and figured that would be the best time to get to The Grocery Store. The first thing that happene was I spilled coffee all down the front of my shirt. Then there was the head of romaine I dropped, the loosely tied bag of pecans that got away from me, and the ripped bag on the way up the stairs... (the bakery fresh muffins landed on steps 4 and 2...)

And just now I was stringing lights on my Christmas tree - (don't judge, if I don't do it now it won't get up until January...and I can't do live tree - my watering skills would have this place burned down in a week...) - the lights that all worked when I tested them, and lights that now only half work on my damn tree.

Think it's too early for a Lemon Drop?

So I was in The Grocery Store the other day - just, you know, browsing. And while I was leaning over picking an acorn squash I got tapped on the shoulder.

"Hi. Remember me?"

"Yep! It's me!"

She was stunning. Glowing.

No moustache.

No mullet.

And beautiful brown hair.

I was transported back in time and staring at a Pantene model, hair all swingy and glowy.

And she had the most darling baby girl in her arms.

"I know it's a bit shocking. Trust me, sometimes I don't even recognize myself. But I got a husband, I got rid of the wierd, and I got myself this beautiful baby."

"Oh I've still got the wierd, but a girl can only sport a mullet for just so long, you know?"

I do, indeed.

I am under no blur of reality of how things work - I know those of us in The Food Industry are not the only ones subjected to the pitfalls of dealing with the general public.

And it's not like I take pleasure when that fact is reminded to me, but I do admit that I sigh a certain sigh of camaraderie. It's a sigh of, "Oh, honey, I get it. I have vodka in the glove box and there are some pills under the seat. You know, just in case..." In fact, that is the standing joke amongst many people we work with, "Get her keys..."

This day was one of those days. We were in the kitchen at The Venue prepping when we heard the sounds of The Wedding Planner. They are unmistakable sounds of spiked heels hitting the floor, and bangles upon bangles of jewelry clanging as her arms waived in the air. All we could hear from our vantage point was, "No... no... yes... there... no... REMEMBER THE VISION.... no... ok... yes...NO." The last no was a little shrill and caused us to stop what we were doing.

Apparently the centerpieces were the wrong shade of Autumn. The Florist was steadfast in her desire to be right, and The Wedding Planner was steadfast in her desire to be right. "I said bright autumnal."

"Well too bad. Change them. Give me brighter."

Before long The Florist came in the kitchen and sighed. "Want the keys to my car?", I asked.

"As much as I would love that, I would rather have a firecracker to throw in Le Bouffant de Wedding Devil - that'll give her autumnal brights..."

Good times.

I hate speakerphones.

Yes, they provide a person with a great hands-free solution to the ever present dangers of holding the phone up to your ear, but I hate them. And unless you have some sort of physical disability that prevents you from actually holding the phone - I find them to be a total unnecessary evil.

The way my mind works is this - if you're too busy to hold a phone, you're too busy to make a phone call. And if you're too lazy to hold the phone, don't call me.

I have this "trick", if you will, that I do whenever someone calls me on a speaker phone - I pretend I can't hear them. Whenever I pick up the phone to say hello and am faced with the tell-tale sign of a speaker phone (echo-y shouting) I reply with a, "I'm so sorry, I can hardly hear you. I don't know if it's my phone or yours...", which usually prompts the person to pick up the phone.

This happened yesterday - only my trick back fired and I became increasingly agitated (I know, hard to believe...)

"Hello."

"Um, yes." *sigh*

"*CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH* I AM ON MY LUNCH BREAK AND THIS IS THE ONLY TIME I HAD TO CALL. *CRUNCH GULP CRUNCH GULP*"

"OH, NO. THIS IS GREAT. YOU CAN STILL HEAR ME, RIGHT? I GOT CLOSER TO THE PHONE AM SPEAKING LOUDER."

Yeah. No kidding.. "Yes, I can hear you just fine."

"Yes, I can hear that. So how can I help you?"

And then it was kind of silent - and then I heard - are you ready - a burp.

"OH MY GOSH, I AM SO SORRY. THAT DARN COKE, YOU KNOW. MAKES A PERSON DO THAT. SO DO YOU HAVE THAT DAY AVAILABLE?"

I paused... letting the conversation roll in my head.

"HELLO? ARE YOU THERE?"

"Yes, yes I am. I was checking my calendar. I am so sorry, we are booked that day. But thank you so much for thinking of us."

We're totally not booked that particular day. And it's really unfair of me to base my opinion of a person on a phone call. But if I've learned nothing in this business, I know that a shouting, crunching burping phone call is a bad omen.

Bad.