Let’s say there’s someone who has the power of life and death over you, someone who — if they so desired — could roast you on a spit over hot coals while whipping you with a broom made of cholla shrubs. Or they could show you mercy and give you a sliver of dry toast to eat. The point is you have to do what your wife — or dad, boss, grandmother, guru, parole officer — says. Or else.
So when that Person’s cousin is getting married for the fourth time and Person has volunteered you to cook the rehearsal dinner because you once roasted a chicken without burning down the house, guess who has to figure out what and how to feed 35 people 2 weeks from now and three states away?
We’ve made up this completely theoretical and totally imaginary (honest!) scenario so that we can help others in need, specifically you readers out there who have been confused with human beings who (1) are competent and (2) care. It happens to the best of us.
Being accused of being competent can suck. But. If all that’s being asked of you is to cook more food than you’re capable of cooking in far less time than you need for a Highly Important Event, that’s not so bad. Imagine if you had to disarm a nuclear bomb you’re handcuffed to while fending off a deadly attack from a mute Japanese-American professional wrestler whose hat doubles as a razor sharp boomerang. Actually those two are pretty equivalent. The advantage of the second is you don’t sit for the after-cater review board. Also, maybe you get to keep the hat, after.
First things first. Can you afford to fake your death, board a tramp steamer to a remote part of the world, and start a new life as an ex-patriate alcoholic/cynic/shaman?
If the answer is no, you’re going to have to do some planning for this catering jobber you are saddled with. You need some basic information to plan ahead, including
·>What is the venue?
Since the person you’re catering for isn’t springing for a professional caterer (aka someone who knows wtf they’re doing)…