Chapter Seven
Willie walked down the sidewalk and noticed, not for the first time, how tidy the street and buildings were. Willie, who loved order and cleanliness, still felt something was lacking somehow. The quiet street didn’t feel peaceful; it felt austere and even a little forbidding. There was no sense of life to it. There were no children playing, no dogs barking, no neighbors chatting, just the spotless pavement and blank building frontages. The few people on the sidewalks passed silently.
Was it always like this, Willie wondered? Had something happened or had she simply never noticed how gloomy it was? She thought back to last Friday, and figured nothing had changed since then. She cast her mind all the way back to when she had first started bringing the extra produce to the kitchen. Had it been livelier then? More vibrant? Maybe a little, but not much. How strange not to have noticed until now how unpleasant this street was.
She turned a corner and walked down another street. After a few blocks there were more people around and the noise increased. She could hear conversations and the odd peal of laughter. People sat outside at little tables drinking coffee. It was odd, Willie thought, that she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that something was missing, some essential vitality. The gaiety felt forced, the little tables and the flower pots, the colorful signs and lights strung in the window reminded her props on a stage.
Aren’t I a gloomy Gertrude today, she thought. She put her musings away for another time and began to feel a little stimulated by the hum of life around her. As she got closer to the kitchen she recognized the odd person here and there and greeted them warmly. She turned into an alley just before the kitchen and brought her wagon around to the back entrance. Lifting a pail of tomatoes out of the wagon she wondered who would be in charge at the kitchen today.
The people who worked in the kitchen were low or no Q, like Willie. It was a hard and usually thankless job, so turnover was pretty high. A lot of them didn’t bother to turn up at all, much like it was at the garden. Over the years there had been some gems, like Alice and Pat and Munro, who, like Willie, relished the challenge of creating something wonderfully delicious from the limited resources available to them, and who thoroughly appreciated the fresh produce she brought each Friday.
Unfortunately, lately she had been greeted by a different staff member each time, all new to her and not always happy to see her. She had a sneaking suspicion they sometimes just threw her vegetables in the trash to save themselves the extra work of preparing them. They preferred to stick to the mandated menu, which was provided directly from the SJD in the form of giant cans of chili or huge trays of frozen casseroles, and canned or frozen vegetables, bread and some type of factory made sweet for dessert.
It was a shame, Willie thought, in so many ways. The bland meals caused attendance at the kitchen to drop off a little bit, something Willie thought probably most of the staff didn’t mind. When there happened to be a more capable head cook, attendance increased, and when they were lucky enough to have a real master in the kitchen, attendance skyrocketed, and they would have to stay open an extra hour, or even two, to accommodate everyone.
Willie loved those times, and would even eat at the kitchen herself then. It was marvelous how truly delicious food worked its magic on people. There was more lively conversation, more laughter, and more good will in general, both before and after dinner. People would line up and chat convivially while waiting, and then afterward they would often walk off together chatting or the few with children might take them to the park to play.
Coming to the kitchen today, Willie wasn’t very hopeful, but as soon as she opened the door her nose told her that someone new and very capable was in charge. Something delicious was cooking and a rich savory scent wafted out from the warm steamy kitchen. She stood just inside the doorway with her pail of tomatoes, heartened by the activity within. Two women stood slicing freshly peeled apples into large stainless steel pans on the counter while another was by the ovens, removing pan after pan of bubbling lasagna and setting them into a cooling rack. A young man stood at the enormous mixer, minding something that looked like cake batter.
“I think we can put those pans into the steam tables in a few minutes,” a deep melodious voice called from the huge walk-in refrigerator in the back.
Looking up and seeing Willie standing there, one of the young women called out.
“Garry, Willie’s here from the garden.” She nodded hello to Willie and smiled before turning to reach under the counter for yet another large pan.
A man about Willie’s age emerged from the fridge, a broad smile lighting his face.
“I was wondering when I’d get to meet you!” He held out his hand and shook hers warmly.
“Nice to meet you. Garry is it?”
“Yes, and you’re Willie right?”
“Yes, Willie.” She noted his clean, work roughened hands and gleaming kitchen whites with satisfaction.
“So what treasure have you brought us today,” he asked. Noticing the tomatoes he smiled and exclaimed,
“Perfect. Look what I’ve got. Come. Come back here.”
Willie followed him to the walk-in fridge, where he indicated some buckets with clear plastic lids. They were full of little white globes in a watery liquid.
“Mozzarella,” he said joyfully.
“How on earth did you manage that?” Willie asked incredulously.
“Oh, I have my ways,” he said mysteriously, smiling. “Actually, I made it. I was just wondering what I ought to do with it and here you are with your tomatoes. Some basil and I think I can swing a decent caprese salad. Are those all you brought?”
“No,” Willie answered, “I’ve another pail full, and some spinach.”
“Lovely, we’ll steam it. The only thing is, I don’t think I’ve gpt much basil. For the caprese. You didn’t happen to bring any did you?”
“Well no, they haven’t been using too many herbs here lately, so I haven’t been bringing much. I can see that’s changed. Thankfully,” she added under her breath, so the others wouldn’t hear.
Garry nodded and winked conspiratorially at her.
“Why don’t I just unload what I’ve got and run back to the garden? I can come back with a bag of basil for you.”
“Oh, I hate to have you go to all that trouble. Why don’t I send Drew or Joyce instead?”
“No, no. You are all swamped by the looks of it. It’s no trouble. I have to take the wagon back anyway, and I was going to get some things for a salad tonight. I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“Well, let me help you unload the rest.” Garry followed her out to the wagon and whistled appreciatively at the spinach filled totes.
“Beautiful.” Willie carried in the rest of the tomatoes and Garry followed with both totes in his arms. Stacked together they towered just a little higher than the top of his head.
“Careful on the steps,” she warned.
He set the spinach in the fridge and came back with some empty totes from the previous Friday, which he placed back in the wagon. Willie followed him out and after a promise to return shortly, set off back to the garden with a new spring in her step.
As she picked her salad greens she thought how lovely it was to have someone who cared in the community kitchen again. He seemed quite passionate, actually. Well, she thought, we’ll see how long it lasts. Thinking back, she suspected the longest had been about a year, and the shortest less than a week. One day she would come with her produce and find someone new, often competent enough, but sometimes downright awful.
She walked over to the herb garden and began to fill a large plastic bag with basil. She soon filled it, packing the leaves tightly, then thought maybe she should bring some fresh rosemary as well. She picked a nice big handful of rosemary and brought it and the bag full of basil to the greenhouse. She wondered what else Garry might like, but checking the clock, she decided there wasn’t time for anything else if he was going to have his caprese salad ready in time. She filled the large cloth bag she carried with her to work each day with the greens and rosemary, and had to manage the bag of basil in her arms. She quickly made the rounds, shutting things down and locking up.
With a last sweeping look round the garden, she locked the gate and set off back to the kitchen. The street didn’t seem quite as gloomy as before, but she was still aware of a sense of quiet unease, and imagined the blank windows watching her suspiciously. She was grateful to turn the corner again and immerse herself in the bustling neighborhood down the street. If it still seemed a little forced and shrill, she didn’t notice, she was so intent on getting the basil to Garry in time.
She knocked and opened the back door, happily observing the bustle and inhaling the lovely warm smells. She noticed a rich cinnamon smell and guessed that the apples and cake batter were combining in the oven into upside down cake. Garry entered the kitchen through the swinging door that led out into the dining room. He saw her and smiled.
“Ah, thanks. Just in time!”
Willie took the basil and rosemary from her bag and handed it to him.
“Rosemary too! Thank you so much.”
“It was no trouble at all. It smells absolutely delicious in here.”
“Are you coming for dinner then?”
“I wish I could but my children are coming over tonight. In fact I should run.”
“Well make sure you come soon. You don’t have to wait until Friday, you know.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Nice meeting you Garry.”
“You too Willie. See you soon.”
She turned and went out the back door, wishing she could stay and have just a little taste. Maybe she’d come Monday after work with some more herbs and stay for dinner.