Monday, December 14, 2009

The Night of the Elvi

There's one thing I can say about our jobs - we definitely get to experience some unusual things. In the blogs going forward, I'll be sharing some of those that stand out in my mind, like the one we fondly call "The Night of the Elvi".

I was contacted by a lady who was looking for a catering company to take care of a party for her husband who was a true blue Elvis fan. She had found our website on the internet and decided that she wanted us based solely on our name. We have had several jobs pass us by because of our name but this was the first one that the name actually sold us to the client. That fact alone should have warned us of the fun to come!

The job started the same as every other one - a few calls, a couple of emails as we ironed out the particulars of the event. They were expecting about 100 guests and we were contracted solely for the food. Entertainment and alcohol would be handled by other persons. We were to arrive a few hours before the party and stay until everyone was pretty much done eating. On paper it looked pretty cut and dried.

Did I mention there was going to be alcohol there?

So, anyway, on the day of the party, we arrived several hours in advance to prepare the food. The client met us at the vehicle and told us the party would be "at the cabin" and pointed to a lovely little rustic cabin a few hundred feet behind the house. We pulled in and proceeded to unload our groceries, dining and serving pieces and assorted sundries we needed to use.

The cabin was absolutely charming! It had a large great room that contained a living room, kitchen and dining area. There was a large double door that lead out into the front yard where a large tent had been erected complete with a laid wood floor and several tables with chairs. This was party central. Behind the kitchen area was a single bathroom and a bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable.

As I began to assign jobs to the crew, a small man came in and we were introduced to him as the caretaker and good friend. Now I'm horrible with names and usually have forgotten them by the time I stick out my hand. This fellow was about 5 foot 4 and 120 pounds... soaking wet... with a parka and blue jeans on. Later in the night I nicknamed him "Deputy". More on that later.

Prep for the food was not too difficult except that the kitchen was a bit on the small and cramped side. However, T and I commented on how this kitchen was much larger than our first one and that if we can cater there we can cater anywhere.
Digging into the job, we fixed a huge spread containing such delights as Avocado Mango Salsa, 3 Cheese Shrimp Dip, Stuffed Tomatoes, Tortilla Pinwheels with Lime Salsa, Stuffed Mushrooms, Vegetable Platter, Assorted crackers and nuts, Olive Bites, Beef Brisket and a huge fruit centerpiece (one of our specialties).

At T minus an hour to go before showtime, the guests began to arrive. Each was met at the door by the very gracious hostess and given party favors which included Elvis glasses and sideburns. For the rest of the night, everywhere we looked we were met by a host of Elviss.. Elvises.. Elvi... Many of the ladies were dressed in vintage 50's garb complete with poodle skirts and bouffant hairdos. Each one had brought a bottle of alcohol - I could tell this would be quite the party! Finally, in comes Deputy sporting a mullet wig reminiscent of "Dog the Bounty Hunter", a pair of handcuffs, fake gun and a shirt that said "SECURITY" on the back. Hence the nickname Deputy.

Now a disclaimer - my crew does not handle alcohol. We don't serve it, we don't keep up with it and we don't maintain a liquor license. The very most we will do is empty out a glass and wash it or throw away if it's a disposable. So I told my crew to be very watchful and to not let their guard down. My biggest concern was for my daughter and told her to stay close to me or her father and not to touch ANYTHING unless we told her specifically to.

Just before the official start of the party, the entertainment arrived: an Elvis impersonator flown in all the way from Florida just for this party. I have to say, he definitely looked the part. I was only 11 years old when Elvis died, but I can still remember the shock that took everyone. Almost exactly like what happened when Michael Jackson died but without the internet lottery tickets.

So the party is going good. The food is holding up and my crew is busy watching for the inevitable spills, forgotten plates and the such. Tonight we were using our own glass plates and I was concerned for their safety. You see, I took a trip to the party tent to check things out and found 2 8 foot long tables literally swagged down in the middle with bottles of alcohol. At the time, it was the most alcohol I had ever seen at a party and that includes my wild college days as a little sister to a fraternity. I told K to keep an eye on the plates and made sure they didn't end up shattered if possible. K is my right hand - I don't think I could get anything done without her.

As the party got good and started, my dear husband took the lead and became our front man. He schmoozed the guests and did a little PR for us with potential clients and handed out business cards. T and I kept a close eye on the food to make sure nothing emptied. At one time, I heard some commotion from the other side of the room and looked up just in time to see a lady getting very chummy with my husband. He handled it very well and gently guided her back to the main party where Elvis was warming up for another set. Things had settled down in the cabin where the food was so I told my crew to take a little break and we sat on the porch behind the party crowd and listened to the music. Elvis was very very good - he had the songs down pat and the moves reminded us of a time long past.

As the set ended, we realized that the party was really winding up and decided it was time to start calling it a night. Packaging the left overs into aluminum containers for the client, we washed our dishes, dried and packed them away. I have to give major props to K and to A. There was a single shallow sink in that kitchen and they had to wash 120 plates, at least twice along with all the pans and utensils used to prepare and serve the food. Finding all the glass plates was a feat in itself but by our count, we only lost one to breakage so felt it was a profitable night. The client found me, gave me a check and included a generous tip. She then hugged me and told me how great everything was. As we loaded the crew up into the truck we heard an announcement that "Deputy" was taking lap and table dance requests and decided we were leaving just in time.

As we pulled away, the lights of the tent glowed brightly and the sounds of "Love me Tender" wafted through the air. We knew that this would be one to remember..

Krazy Ladies Catering has left the building... Thank ya.. Thank ya very much.

Welcome to my Krazy World!

Hi. My name is Karen and I'm a caterer.

"Hi Karen."

I've been a caterer, a professional caterer, for about 3 1/2 years now. How, you may ask, did I arrive at this rather delicate career choice? Yeah, it surprised the stew out of me too.

Stew... catering... get it?

Anyway, anyone who knows me knows that I'm not exactly on the delicate side. Hearty, husky, corpulent, fluffy, big boned, pleasantly plump, bootius maximums, (ok, I made that last one up) - yes these are all good adjectives. Although I do enjoy eating and cooking, that is not what I had envisioned in my life.

Let's set the way back machine about 30ish (oh Lord has it really been that long?) years. My 8th grade math teacher, Mrs. Dobbs, had a student teacher who had the coolest thing in the world - a real honest computer! The magnificence of that TRS80 overwhelmed our young senses. We crowded around the desk as he plugged the console into the television, attached the cassette tape and put fingers to keys. In a few short moments, "Hello Students" flashed across the screen and I was hopelessly and totally hooked. He taught us things like "basic" and "interfaces". We were introduced to the concepts of "variables" and "plotting data". I can remember the feeling of elation when I had finished my first computer program that asked you your name then said "Hello, [name]!" He left our classroom in just a few months, but that desire to delve deeper into the mysteries of computers never left me. I was hooked!

When I signed up for college (GO MSU!!), the logical choice was of course, computer science. I greedily absorbed everything I could - well most everything. Some things like "calculus" and "Physics" completely bounced off my noggin. However I was determined to plod through and get that degree so I could spend the rest of my life working on my beloved computers.

In my second year, I had the opportunity to join the work study program and found myself hired by the Navel Air Station in Millington, TN. In the program, I would be able to work and go to school in alternating semesters... and best of all, I would get to work in my desired vocation - and for the government! Can we say cushy job?

I could go into details about working for the government but this blog is derailed enough. Perhaps I'll save that for another time.

By the time my third semester of work came about, I was getting burned out. There's nothing quite like bug hunting in 2,000 pages of COBOL program to convince you that maybe you aren't made to do this for the rest of your life. They say that the work study program is a strong education tool. Boy, is that an understatement! At the end of the next school semester, I decided to leave college for a while and oh.. get married while I was there. A couple of semesters out would do me good - then I could finish my last 3 semesters and escape with my degree.

Fast forward 10 YEARS. Married, working as a computer programmer and hating it, I decided it was time to go back and get my degree - which I completed in 2003. Hello BA in Business Information Systems!

Finally - to the meat of the matter..

Meat... catering... get it? I crack me up.

Anyway, a friend's daughter was getting married and asked me that since I was such a great cook, would I consider catering? Before I knew what I was doing, I said yes. I asked a friend who was also a great cook, if she would help me out and I'd split the fee with her. She said yes and we were set to go.

The wedding was held in a local bed and breakfast. We get there and find ourselves in the tiniest little kitchen. There was an island in the middle that we had to turn sideways to get between it and the cabinets. All day we played ring around the island, crab walking and hoping to get it all done. My husband walks in, sees us working in that tiny space and says "You two are a couple of crazy ladies to be doing this". Thus Krazy Ladies Catering was born.

AHA! There's that name!

So, here I sit with my lovely, coveted computer and business degree cooking for a living. I absolutely could not be happier!

Strange how life does that to you.....