I am failing at finding a way to tie this essay together so will just get writing.
Clean.
I grew up in a home with kosher food. My mother had promised her mother that she would keep a kosher home. I suspect that my grandmother was a believer, but never met her. She was deceased before I was born.
There are a couple of proscriptions that became very important in some ways in my life. The first is not eating milk and meat, and pigs not being kosher food. The issue of pigs, pig fat, sea food, will have to be dealt with in another essay. The need in a kosher home for four sets of dishes is another. The laws of kashrut, keeping kosher, are a boon for ceramic producers. This too is a separate issue and deserving of its own essay. But today getting ready for the beginning of Passover is the topic, or at least the start of it.
Passover is the holiday commemorating the Exodus from Egypt. There are a lot of parts to this, many separate aspects, but I want to focus on cleaning up of leaven, grains that can be fermented into bread or alcohol, and its impact on my life. So first you have to understand this.
Before the start of Passover, at least in the tradition that was my house, and most Jewish cultures, you have to get rid of all of your grain, and things made of it. This seems pretty simple. But like many things in Orthodox and Conservative Judaism, trying to keep the letter of the law, and trying to make sure of it, gets complicated.
Left over products in the refrigerator and cabinets, rice, flour, starch, sugar, almost everything, was given to someone who was not Jewish. This could include the woman who cleaned once a week, the mailman, and others. If it could not be given away it was thrown away. The only exception to this as I remember it was unopened cans and hard liquor. The cans and booze went into our cold cellar in the basement, really a long term pantry, it was not that cold.
The kitchen was cleaned. One year the glasses of mine that were lost were found behind the fridge as it was pulled from the wall. The coils on the back were cleaned and the floor underneath it scrubbed. As I remember it, the coils were my brother’s job. I cleaned the blender.
At some point we got an Osterizer® blender with ten speeds controlled by buttons. It was going to be used over Passover, so it had to be cleaned. The buttons got really grimy over the year so it had to be disassembled. This was my job. I remember it being difficult the first time. When finished there was no visible gunge anywhere. We used this blender over Passover. Somehow this sort of cleaning was not acceptable for other kitchen appliances except the stove, fridge, dishwasher and sink.
In high school one of my jobs was to wash dishes for a Chinese Restaurant. Work started at 4pm by cleaning the dirty dishes from lunch, running them through the dishwasher and getting ready for the evening rush. Each evening at about 8 there was an additional cleaning task, although a few times I got to help mass producing egg rolls.
Chinese restaurants were a target for food safety inspectors. Consequently where I worked was one of the cleanest restaurants I have every worked in. It seemed like we got inspected every two weeks, fined threatened with closure, harassed. One time I remember the inspector decided he was going to target the stock pot. The stock pot held about 12 gallons of broth. It was left running 24 hours a day. Good stock was used in any dish that needed cooking liquid and in all the soups. He said something about food poisoning. I got a little argumentative even though I should have held my breath. I was just the dishwasher. But it worked he left us alone. I was left with the impression that my white skin was bigger influence than what I said.
On weekends we cleaned. Often the cooks helped. The cooler was emptied and cleaned. The floor and walls were left immaculate. The corners had to always be scrubbed. The smell of bleach could be overwhelming. On Sunday afternoon we cleaned the grease traps or filters over one set of woks and then the other. This was hard work. I wish that I knew then what I know now about removing grease.
When I got to The Kansas City Art Institute I eventually got a job in the school cafeteria. Although it did not pay as well as my previous job, the shorter travel time made it a better deal. At first I was the weekend cleaner. The first week or two I was given directions and a special job. By week three I was left alone. “Are you doing the coolers and grease traps every week?” “Yes”.
I worked hard for Marion League. Once I knew what her life was like I worked harder. She was the foster mother for a group of disabled children and had a hard time making ends meet. At school no one starved. She would feed students if they were hungry even if they were broke. I do not know the limits of this, but one friend got fed for a few days every month. I do not know if they paid her back.
After about a year I was asked if I wanted to be the Saturday short order cook. I said OK. This was sandwiches, eggs, hash browns, biscuits and gravy, bacon and sausage. Also coffee. Marion said that we had to turn $120 to break even. I made it my business to do what I could. I cleaned the coffee urn when I got there in the morning, especially the filter holder. I increased the strength of the coffee and let people know. I cut lunch meats and but the “sawdust” from this process to sprinkle on the gravy. I also put paprika on top. Bacon grease was used in the gravy. To me this was still pretty yucky but I knew others would like it. Not growing up with much bacon in my life it was not an easy flavor. I would rather just eat the biscuits.
I was given a couple of options for biscuits. There was mix or I could make it from scratch. I aways made it from scratch. They got better as I worked there longer but not much better. But along with the gravy the biscuit sales went up. We started to make a second urn of coffee just before lunch. The last innovation was “garbage omletes”. I did not yet know the value of a good name. Anyhow, just before closing you could order a 2 or 3 egg omelette and I would stuff it with what ever there was that I was going to have to dispose of after the shift. We closed at 3 and stayed closed on Sunday. Leftovers were disposed of. Most vegetables were disposed of and replaced early Monday morning. There was a lot of food to put in these. If there was not any, I used cabbage and onions. I also made the hash browns from scratch. They are best if left on the griddle for a long time.
After a few months, Marion pulled me aside, “I know that you cannot be stealing from me, where is all the money coming from?” I asked if she looked at the register tape. She said that it made no sense. How do you sell 25 omelettes in the last 15 minutes of business? Even the coffee sales are better than some weekdays. I explained it to her.
The food there was wholesome for the most part. The year after I graduated they replaced her with a food service.
So, why this essay? Just the thoughts running through my head as I clean the Kitchenaide® mixer, full of bread residue, as I get prepped to regrease it. I am thoroughly impressed with the beefy engineering of this 4.5 quart mixer. Serviced every couple of decades it could last forever. Now, even the slots in the heads of the screws have been cleaned.
Kitchenaid ® is a registered trademark of Kitchenaid I guess.
