37: Caesar

We were all discussing, among the sous-chefs, if anyone had made any kitchen blunders; amusing omissions or accidental swapping out of ingredients. And I mentioned I’d accidentally inserted half a tonne of hard core and sharp sand into a Caesar salad, and had omitted any leaves or dressing whatsoever. And I’d served it via a cement mixer directly onto the delicate porcelain plate of the ambassador. He was not amused. And it reminded me of the time our foster child, Sydney, had to be taken back into care. And, on the eve of his departure, he wanted for us all to put on these AR headsets and to fling CGI crockery and cutlery and bedclothes, bathroom items and some bits of sewing kit and things all at him as he stood against the wall with his hands tied behind his back. It was all the virtual Of course everything apart from our bodily actions and his bodily inaction. And of course we had the care worker there to oversee everything. He seemed to really enjoy it. And then the next morning they both got a cab all the way down to Bristol. can’t stand that ‘fun yeah’ song yeah it’s all the same take the time to go, go it’s over water my brain water my brain water my brain water my brain I’ll have lemon with the same tell the tale of so-so, the sun’s gone gaga again and take the time to go, go I know I’ve gotta water my brain water my brain I’ve gotta water my brain water my brain I’ll have lemon with the same I take a drive through gaunt Saigon as dry lawn is lain and take the time to go, go I know I’ve gotta water my brain water my brain I’ve gotta water my brain water my brain I’ll have lemon with the same And there was another situation where I was tasked with making the batter for large batch of pancakes for the breakfast of the delegates. The recipe called for one teaspoon of sodium bicarbonate per five gallons liquid, which would give the pancakes a light, fluffy consistency. And I knew that there were five litres in a gallon, more or less. But I somehow confused this to mean that there were five gallons in a gallon. And that I would need five teaspoons. But then I knew that for every litre in the gallon, I would have to multiply the teaspoon by five to make up a gallon. And so I multiplied the gallon by five to make up the gallon. And so I ended up putting 25 teaspoons into the mixture. Except, I forgot that a teaspoon, was not the same as a tablespoon. And I also could not distinguish a tablespoon from a serving spoon, which is about three times the capacity of the former and the former itself three times the capacity of a teaspoon. The result being that I put the equivalent of 145, teaspoons of sodium bicarbonate into the mixture. Now, those pancakes was so light and fluffy, they could barely stay on the plates. I had to weigh them down with little black serviettes with brass bells tied to each corner. But boy, when those delegates tucked into their breakfast, they all started to foam at the mouth, coughing, spluttering, falling backwards on their chairs, slumping forwards into the light mixture, calling out for their aides. The whole conference had to be rescheduled. After that, I was put on other duties. I was put in charge of overseeing the installation of the translation system and delegates’ headsets. Turns out they should have kept me in the kitchen after all. In tiredness she saw all ... eyes closed, ears covered, smile angled. Tremors had subsided and the stillness shivered with shame as it settled again. From the look of her distracted exterior no-one was aware she wanted to move a hill with her big toe to the other side. From the water on the brain to the rubble on the plate, culinary rogues wield their hateful spoons with gritted teeth, lives are ruined, the sun's retired and the hills can't get over themselves. Just another day in the lab.