If you read my posts from time to time, you may have picked up on a key fact in my life: I don’t do so well in the kitchen. Though at my house I’m quite capable and have managed to keep myself fed for 39 consecutive years (fingers crossed). But elsewhere I just don’t seem to have even the basic skills to do more than make a pot of coffee. The chefs and students are well aware of this and our board knows too, only because I brag about it.
That ought to lay the foundation for the title of my blog “Fire”. I set one; in our kitchen. It was an accident of course. I mean, people don’t say “Oops. I had an on purpose.”
It was a board member’s birthday and we had cupcakes with candles. Before we celebrated, oddly enough, our insurance agent came to present to our board. The irony would not soon escape me. After he left, I came out of the kitchen with a large plate of cupcakes that I had lit with a click-start lighter. I set the lighter down and walked into the café as the gang sang out happy birthday. It was a lot of fun, but because the plate of cupcakes was so large I couldn’t bring out the plates and napkins so I had to make two trips. I walked back into the kitchen to find a flame roughly 2 feet tall in the middle of one our stainless steel prep tables. I guess the lighter had not clicked off when I set it down and it was next to the plates and napkins that had quickly turned into a smoldering pile of embarrassment. Water handy, I extinguished what was left of my ego and walked back into our meeting laughing with great gusto. When asked what was so funny I couldn’t and wouldn’t lie. It won’t show up in the meeting minutes, but the smirks from board members made clear to me that I’m destined to only be allowed to prepare coffee when it comes to our kitchen. If there is consensus on any one topic, let it be keeping me out of our kitchen. Thank goodness we have real chefs.