Entry 012......When Pigs Fly Catering

We have always had a secret name for our company. To the unsuspecting public the shingle says As You Like It Catering. It's also had the façade of Local Flavor years ago.  But the real mother ship is named When Pigs Fly Catering. (See explanation below.)
So I decided to come out of the closet with the real name this weekend. You know, caterers are invited to the best parties. Mostly we come in the more casual back entrance and are there to make sure the hosts can be guests at their own events. We probably get 2 or more requests for donations every week. We are courted by most every non-profit in town at one time or another. Very popular, we caterers. If they are new they usually say "well, we are non-profit!" I always think to myself, "ya, sweetheart, but I'm designed to be for-profit."

But occasionally we are invited to volunteer our goods and services but then we are treated as guests as well. We enjoy donating to the Taste of the GSBA, a fundraiser for their scholarship fund. I am proud to say this is my 15th year of working for this cause. The face of the event has really changed from its inception. It has started from an awkward room at a community center to the big ballroom at the Sheraton downtown. The event raised over $345,000.00  this year, a significant and powerful amount of discretionary dollars. All the proceeds go to the GSBA Scholarship fund which has awarded over a million dollars in grants to LBGT kids and allies. I think they will be giving even more away soon.

But the other reason I like doing this event is that the staff of the GSBA is savvy about how to handle it's Taste providers. This year they convinced 10 caterers and restaurants into helping out. We provide the hors d'oeuvres during the live auction portion of the evening. The GSBA gives back in return. They provide ample space to unload, even volunteers to help you cart it in if needed. We get free valet parking which has a value of 40 bucks, we get drink tickets and we get invited to join in the sit-down portion of the evening, with a ticket value of $175 per person.My chef and I both went. So if I was a guest at the event I would pay about $425.00 for these items. They thank us all evening long, they provide space in all print-ad material and generally make sure we have everything we need. So kudos to the GSBA staff. There is April who is sort of like the fraternity house-mother, nurturing and herding, there is Rachael, calm and efficient and loving , Cole who runs around with with clipboards, smiles, earphones, telephones and probably duct tape and safety pins in his pockets for the inevitable crisis. Then there is Louise. She is the GSBA. She is the ED and is the driving force behind the incredible growth I have seen the GSBA go through over the years. I think I got her thank-you note before I even got home. She is big on thank-yous. I appreciate that. There are at least 100 other people who volunteered with hands-on and so shouts out to them as well.
Getting back to the task at hand, each of the 10 food providers give out about 400 or more bites of food to the excited, drinking guests as they bid on all the silent auction items. Its fun to see our fellow caterers present their best sides and take note of their clever ideas and of course taste their wares. (None for me this year) Usually I am wandering around bidding and eating and drinking with all the other guests. This year I stayed at my own table and networked, hugged, kissed and gave away hundreds of pieces of food.
Now the theme for the evening was Come Fly With Us.  These things always have a theme.........Hmmmmm. Let's see. Come fly with us.......Airline food? There isn't any served anymore and when there used to be food service nobody was too thrilled about it. So no hook there. We are affiliated with the Swedish Cultural Center so Scandinavian Airlines would be a natural tie in, but guess what. They left Seattle. Who knew? There is Icelandic Air but the stretch was just too much.  So how can we connect with Come Fly With Us?....of course. The secret name...When Pigs Fly Catering. I printed up signs, I took part of my extensive flying pig collection and we were on a roll. What to serve? I hand that over to Chef Pidor and she mulls it over. How does Chinese 5 Spice Pulled Pork on a toasted pita square with  water chestnut cream sauce on top. I dub it Flying Pig Pork. (I do love nicknames, right D?) I stand with a cast iron flying pig cradled in one arm and hawk our wares to the throngs. I hugged a couple hundred of my friends, fed them and generally played the maitre d'.  I had a ball.

We also served rosemary white bean mousse on crostini for the vegetarians. (all of us and I mean everybody in the food business suspects all vegetarian and all vegans of being bacontarians, (a person who claims to be a true vegetarian but knowingly supplements their diet with small amounts of bacon, bacon bits, and bacon fat.)

Let me tie this back in to the diet part of this blog.
I have reached another milestone on the Dukan Diet. Thirty five pounds gone!! Using my sugar analogy, that is 7 bags of sugar I no longer am lugging around.

this times 7

So on this night, I decided to eat dinner and splurge with a glass of red wine! (not on the list of food items, rest assured) . The starter is served in a porcelain canoe and is seafood including crab leg sections, roasted sunchoke, mushrooms, roasted tomato and a slice of black truffle. Very nice

So far, all things allowed on the diet. Dinner turns out to be all OK too. Very nice piece of tenderloin of beef with white  and green asparagus. I gave away the gnocci and skipped the bread. With no tears. The celebration came in a glass. I had 2 glasses of red wine. Be told you can't have something and wow, the whole craving factor climbs exponentially. I really enjoyed that wine. I can go another 5 bags of sugar before I will have another.

Had a lot of fun with the little Flying Pig sign. People I don't know would come and say, "Flying Pig? I've heard of you." It was all great fun.
The guests have all the food they want, the vodka has run out at some of the bars, its time for the main event. Soon it just us mice in the lobby. Oh yes, and all the hungry, eager volunteer youth. They flocked to us and happily scarfed up the remainders.
Chef Pidor leaps over the table to change into her evening dress and I pack up the dog and pony show. I park it all in coatcheck and we stroll into dinner just as the starter was being placed. Dinner proves to be enjoyable and relaxing. Its fun to eat with someone who takes food as seriously as Pidor. We both love the dinner.  We forgo the chocolate creme de pot and fun coffee service and jet out. The neon is going out. When Pigs Fly is closing for the night.

We text her husband this shot.

A little glamor before we pull up stakes and head back. Speaking of stakes, see our glowing red eyes?

.Forget clogs.This is what real chefs wear for loading out.

 We pack panache at the Pig.

Back Story
"when pigs fly" comes from a line in The Lion in Winter. First a play then brilliantly, a film with Peter O'Toole and Katherine Hepburn. He plays a famous Plantagenet King, and she his imprisoned famous land rich Queen.  they are surrounded by their not-so-loving full grown trio of princes All are battling for succession of the crown. Throw in the very young King of France and his princess sister and you have better than a royal flush for dinner. Put the movie in your cue. The comeback line to "when pig's fly" is so good it is actually the secret-secret name of our company

Entry 11...Spoonful Of Sugar

Off-Premise plated dinners for a couple of hundred people are usually fun affairs and brings our team closer together. It takes planning, has a certain cadence and must be expertly timed.  The Chef is like the Field Marshall, getting all of the artillery, troops and provisions into formation and off we go.

Last week we had such a field operation. Local United Nations group held a fundraiser celebrating some local stars and celebrating its 65th year.

The meal was to be simple, all vegetarian but still elegant and filling. At a discount, of course. Dozens of phone calls, a site visit, client meetings, a tasting...all the things a caterer has to create to part of the planning stages. Can you imagine doing all of this if you were going to buy a car? With a car, you get your money, you try out the car, you go through the hell of negotiations then you drive it off the lot. I guess they have their own tribulations. I mean to sell autos you have to be a car salesman, eh? Nuff said.

We rent a truck, thank you Box Solutions for always having something we can drive.The truck is being packed, some of the servers stand around pretending to work. I know the ones that are really working, believe me. Its hard to keep 8 people busy. Something might be missed or put on the truck without approval. We are doing two gigs tonight and two trucks are being loaded at the same time. Anything can happen. Maybe its that extra cheeseboard that is meant for tomorrow's gig. Anyway, it is boisterous, loud, and has a beautiful order to the chaos.
 We fill the trucks, get the waiters to stop smoking, put their ubiquitous cell phones on mute and we take off. Luckily the catering venue is very close and we get there with time to spare. Ever try to find a United Nations Blue napkin? We did. There is plenty of hub bub going down on the part of the clients when we get there. Beautiful as it is, St. Mark's still has a church basement looking much like all church basements. It takes a lot to convert it to an event space. But world flags aplenty help, balloons, nice linens and of course United Nations Blue napkins make it pop.

 

The guest count has jumped at the last minute so there  are extra tables to set, more things to get ready.

Plating up is an assembly line of activity. Portions are set, jobs are doled out and the fun begins. They have to be uniform so the Chef normally does one to show all the rest of the workers. It is known as The Golden. All 249 of the other salads should look exactly like it.

Then after the salad comes the soup and condiments for the soup.

The soup is cleared and a lovely world cheeses plate with raspberries is served.
We end with a wine poached pear sitting in a rum sauce with cream. For not being chocolate, it is still a superior item for dessert.  Lot of love went in to the pears for sure.
They are soaked overnight in a wine sugar bath then poached in the same liquid.
 They receive a slight slice on the bottom so they will stand.  A sugar rum sauce is placed on the plate along with some drips of cream then the pear is perfectly perched on the plate and then brought out.



 Now as many of you know if you have been following, I have been on the Dukan Diet out of France. No carbohydrates, save the Magic Oat Bran, have passed these lips. I have now lost 25 pounds.
But I am in a celebratory mood. I look at the hundreds of pears all lined up on the table.Even though not chocolate, so many pears look like something out of Willie Wonka's factory. The Chef looks at me looking at the pears and says "wanna?"  I don''t hesitate. "YES"   Read that as emphatic!

 She assembles the perfect spoonful of pear, rum sugar sauce and some cream as well. You couldn't put more on that spoon if you tried. Even a drop more sauce would cause it to collapse. The Chef gingerly brings the spoon closer to my mouth. I gently inhale the aroma. I open my mouth and just like the little choo choo of my baby eating games, into the tunnel goes the train. I gently close down.

Such a rush of mouth sensations. The pear, the rum, the wine, the sugar the cream. So many levels. So many lasting tastes.  I am in heaven. Just a bite. All I need. What an orgasmic treat. This is better than a handful of Pixie Sticks and a glass of Boone's Farm.

Sugar is just like riding a bike. Once you learn to eat it, you never forget how.

Now for a closing, our clients are usually pretty sophisticated and this group certainly was. but we could write a book on the funny things they ask us. One lady looked at the pear swimming in the sugar rum sauce and asked "honey, does that have any sugar in it?" For some reason, that really cracked us all up. We laughed the rest of the night and into the next day.  A week later you can still hear someone chirp "honey, does that have any sugar in it?" Ya had to have been there.

Entry 10 ... In a Strange Bed

It was a dark and stormy night. I woke up in a strange bed. There were four of us sharing that mattress. I could hardly move my legs I was so surrounded by warm flesh. And fur.  I am house sitting for a friend which includes no jacuzzi or giant TV (or NO HIGH SPEED INTERNET!) but it does include 4 horses, 8 chickens and 2 dogs. Luckily this morning I awake with no chickens in the bed, but including Luc, the Catering Poodle, there are 3 dogs and me. 3 Dog Night.  If that puts some ear worms in your head, go with it.

First wind and rain together storm is raging outside. I have a little nightlight (Hi DOTW) on in the next bedroom so I wont fall down the stairs in the middle of the night. I notice it flicker and go out. Electricity gone. Fall in the Great Pacific Northwest has arrived. My lovely routine in the morning has altered for the time being. I brought along my French press and the Magical Oat Bran of course. But you know how it is in a strange kitchen. Where the hell is the kosher salt? The dogs are tap dancing on the linoleum. Tough. Me first, Just like on those crashing airlines, I have to get the lifeline to me first. Then you, OK? I wake up chipper and whistling every day but I work purely by rote. In a new environment, I am asked to think. Drat. COFFEE. I only drink one cup a day, but it is vital. No electricity, fire is out. Words with more sting than drat form little clouds in my head. I will tell you one of them. Shite. I gotta roll down the 6 miles to town to get my coffee.

Duvall is one of those little towns along the old abandoned rail lines. Its cute, full of antique stores and little restaurants. A little later the barbecue joint will throw open it's doors and hang its sign. "Sorry, We're Open." The bakery/coffee shop isn't even open yet, so no comfy stuffed chair with wifi. I turn around and head to the ice cream/coffee shop. I line up next to about 30 tubs of ice cream. Even though I haven't had ice cream or any sugar for 5 weeks, I still only want coffee.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch ( I feel like salting all the cliches I can in this post) I am greeted by all four of the horses lined up at this end of the pasture fence. They watch me get out of my truck. They toss there heads back and whinny at me. In unison,  "WHERE IS OUR BREAKFAST?" They missed the memo about me getting mine first. Tough. I am not going to be manipulated by these guys. There is plenty of grass right there. Deal.
I get back inside and start the fire. I heat by wood as does my friend Mel. But we do it in completely different ways.  Of course all the wood I have toted in is too big and her axe for making kindling is taller than me and I do not want any toes missing. I cheat and go back to the truck where I just happen to have a case of wax and sawdust fire logs. I cut one up and conjure up a fire. That's better. I rustle up the dogs, throw on leashes and take them for a big walk. Helps me make my requirement of 30 minutes a day and gives them something to do.
Last night I was multitasking, something I should never do while cooking. Invariably I burn things on the grill. But only on the outside. The middle is as red as can be. I try and be compassionate towards those wayward souls that like meat done anything more that medium rare. Might as well stick with pot roast

My bud Mel has taken off to the plains of Oklahoma to visit her family. Its been 5 years since she has been home. It's time for her to go see her mama, Ceona. She has this great cookbook she put together and I have a copy. Not too much I can cook and and right now.   Later..... It has all manner of great fried, creamed and buttered foods.  Seems Oklahoma is just as much southern as it is western.

I collect Southern cookbooks and this one now has a place of honor in its little ring binder.  It has hundreds of recipes in it and would be perfect for the beginning cook as well as the more seasoned chefs. It has all kinds of substitutions if you are out of something in your larder and has basics such as gravies, sauces and relishes. Never roasted a turkey? Check out Ceona's recipe. All layed out for you.
Every family has recipes that are famous in their respective households. The DuBois' had Chinese Pudding, Glenmores, Whoppie Pies, Rochester Fair Burgers and this very basic pork pate with a name I cannot spell. Phonetically it goes kun tow. Some French Canadian derivision of something.  Who knows. Put your best nasality into it and it will be close enough. What dishes are famous in your family? Especially those that seem absurd out of context, but that you really crave.
One of Ceona's such recipes is for Dried Beef with cream gravy on biscuits. Mel made it once for me and was all giggly and in her comfort zone, happy as a pig in you know what. And I was like, this is so salty!! Is this what is known in the military as SOS? (if you know what I mean.)

Anyway, If I served Mel Chinese Pudding I am sure there would be a perplexed look on her face. Especially when I forced her to put  slather of French's yellow mustard on it. De riguer at the DuBois'.

The only thing I really craved while staying with Mel was high speed internet. That is one of the reasons it has taken so long to post this blog. But we roughed it, ol' Luc the Catering Poodle and me.
My favorite thing was playing "Attila the Hun and his Hordes are attacking the house" This is a game most dogs can play, but Mel has two expert masters living with her.  Her wire haired Terrorists can raise a ruckus that would wake the dead. There I am, revolving in and out of sleep when I hear a deep gutteral groan. I am not sure where it is coming from. Strange house. Strange noises.

Then the noise swells, grows like wildfire and erupts into this volcano of high shrill incessant pounding. What the hell is that. I am propelled out of bed, not under my own power, I swear, but by some sonic boom inverted barometric pressure phenomena. The level of a barking dog is about 75 decibels. Ha! We move past tractor under strain at 90 decibels, symphony orchestra at 110. Now Luc is conscripted and joins in the fray.  We arrive at a full 140 decibels. Jet take off. Chart says "Pain begins" I can attest to that. Anything higher will result in chest walls vibrating and eardrums shattering.  I stand there, barefoot in the dark looking for a rifle, a club, a piece of firewood...anything to protect myself. Hell, maybe Attila and his Hordes really are out there, breaching the doors.  Then instantly the noise is gone. No remaining echo..no whisper of anything...a void.  I turn on the light and I see three sleepy dogs, all cuddled up in their jammies, fast asleep. Luc opens one eye and looks at me as if I am really disturbing him. What??? he wants to know.

The dogs yawn in unison and go back to sleep. sheesh. What a maroon! I am left shaking my head. I join 'em.