Christmas came and went as quickly as my mother, who could only drive up to spend the day with me. On the one hand, it was sad to spend such a truncated holiday with my mother dearest. On the other, it afforded me some time to play kitchen witch on Christmas Eve at the St. Thomas More Newman Center, my home away from home.
I showed up at noon with bags of groceries in hand, eager to take over their full-size kitchen. Today's menu consisted of the (now famous) chocolate chip scones, chocolate chip cookies, and my favorite triple chocolate fudge brownies (known to my brother Nathan Cusick as "Righteous Brownies"). The timing that I have mastered in my own meek kitchen came in handy here as I switched out tray after tray of tasty morsels, covered my beloved Wayne Gretzky jersey in flour and butter, and sang along to the tunes of Dave Matthews Band.
Time flies when you're more concerned with baking than your mother's arrival. Five hours flew by beneath my notice and, with a shock that made me leap out of my skin and nearly ruin an entire plate of brownies, Fr. Daniel Rolland rushed into the kitchen to start making coffee and hot cocoa for the evening mass attendees.
Evening mass, already?!
I ended up staying through two masses in all of my buttery, floury hockey glory. I helped Fr. Daniel set up two tables with treats, I mulled a few vats of cider, and I was his spy eyes to let him know when we needed more cocoa or coffee. The most fun I had, though, was quickly whipping out signs that said "Merry Christmas" and "Welcome" in every language I could think of (thank you, Omniglot.com, for picking up where I had to leave off).
Few seemed to notice that I was the only person mucking about that wasn't in a suit, dress, or priest habit, so I just told them that I was the caterer.Once people started eating, though, no one seemed to notice the greasy blonde in sports gear. All they noticed were the warm drinks, the chocolate desserts, and the fellowship. I am so grateful that I was able to help the parishioners feel more welcome (or wilkommen, or bienvenue).
I was a bit too busy to take any pictures of the hullabaloo, and for that I am sorry. I do, however, have three mementos from that night:
1) A butter stain on my Gretzky jersey that appears to be permanent.
2) A Cuisinart combo blender/food processor that Ben's stepmother lovingly got me for Christmas.
3) The itching desire to feed the whole church.
Merry Christmas, all.
Monday, December 28, 2009
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