St. Bernard Parish : The Idiot’s Guide to Disaster Relief
Rich Weinroth
If I was a coffee drinker, I’d have a story about that coffee. Whether it was horrible or great, I really have no idea. But a cauldron of coffee has to be one or the other. I’m sure there must be no middle ground for coffee of that magnitude.
The kitchen was set up really well. It would’ve been a great catering kitchen for a wedding under that tent and they were serving three meals a day, everyday but Sunday when they did brunch, often almost two thousand meals a day with an entirely volunteer staff. Holy crap! I think I found the right place to volunteer. This is as grassroots as it gets.
There were at least 20 volunteers in the kitchen when I got there. Every one of them dedicated and wearing gloves, which is good, and three out of five of them looking like they’re about to cut a finger off at any given moment and not necessarily their own finger, which is not good. It was 9am and lunch prep had begun in the kitchen and I, being the new guy, chopped onions. I’m totally the low guy on the totem pole and I love it. I notice some of the other volunteers as they stared at the way I cut an onion as if I’d invented the wheel. I taught them how to cut stuff without lopping off appendages, theirs or otherwise. Compared to them, I have excellent knife skills.
Lunch was a five course affair, every meal was. And it was surprisingly great, nearly every meal was. The name of the kitchen had evolved into the Made With Love Cafe, and it fit to a tee. Indeed, the food was Made With Love. Even the cowboy coffee was. Lunch went off without too many hitches, we cleaned up the giant mess we’d made and we got a great big free lunch in a disaster area. I found the right place to volunteer.
Beirin had dreadlocks too, or maybe he was just disheveled but he seemed to be in charge of the kitchen at the moment, as much as anyone did. He took me on a tour of our food supplies.
We had several refrigerated trailers, some finagled, some on loan from FEMA. Huge trailers in varying states of disrepair stored our perishables and we were pretty well stocked. Freezers and refrigerators stocked, at least for the moment, with meats and cheese, milk products, frozen vegetables; all donated. Fresh produce was a hot commodity down there, and all the restaurants in New Orleans were paying premium prices. Not that we were a restaurant, but fresh stuff brings food to life and although we spent some money on produce we ran a tight ship.
Somewhat tight, and you can afford a case of avocados now and then when Sanderson Farms just sent several tons of fresh chicken because they’re cool. Sanderson Farms rules! The dry goods tent was
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