The House Elves Cook a Meal

It is always a dilemma whether or not to disclose that one has performed a Random Act of Kindness, because in doing so one risks venturing into the murky shoals of the Humble Brag.  Having made this disclaimer, I am going to talk about something I did yesterday that gave me enormous satisfaction and that I plan to do again for the very selfish reason that it made me feel so good to do it.

I was exchanging emails with a close friend with whom I have, in the past, joyfully collaborated on some writing projects.  My friend lives near me and has a full-time job in the Bronx and two children under the age of five.  While she dearly loves creating anything related to the arts, she is presently paying off a mortgage and raising two small children.  So, like many other people in these hard times, she must often put her artistic talents on the shelf because there are only so many hours to the day.  Here is her description of A Day In the Life:

My basic day is get up at 4:30 a.m., shower, dress, get things for me & the kids, then help my husband get the boys dressed & into car and we all have to be out by 5:45 a.m.! I work, get off at 3:30 p.m. if I don't get stuck with mandatory overtime, fight traffic to the babysitter's & then the kids go crazy that I am there. It takes about 30 minutes to get out of there and I actually feel bad not chatting w/ the sitter but I try and avoid packed rush hour traffic - which is impossible, because it's 4 pm at that point. I leave by 4:15 and get home by 5 (if I'm lucky) and heavens forbid I don't have the travel DVD player or the baby will scream and throw his bottle from boredom. 

If the kids fall asleep in the car, which is often, then I can forget them going to sleep for the night before 10pm. I get home; at least one of them wakes up; and here go the 3 trips back and forth between the car and the house to get everyone and everything out. Happy to have a driveway!

Then it's food time, sometimes unhealthy leftovers. Husband finally gets home by 6:15 - he gets off at 4:45, but traffic turns the 30 minute trip into an hour and a half!!!

By 9:00 I'm exhausted, but I usually can't go to bed before 10:00 because the kids are wired.

Sleep 4-5 hours, then get up and do it all over again. 

This is a brutal way to live.  I can't tell you how much I admire and honor the many, many unsung heroes and heroines of these times who are soldiering through the exhausting grind that being a responsible human being trying to live decently and raise a family has become. Yes - I know - many people have it even worse than the above situation.  But that doesn't mean this situation is good - it means things are bad.

I myself have had little success in finding work relating to my field (English majors are not, as it turns out, highly sought after to run Fortune 500 companies - who knew?) so I free-lance as an editor, do some SAT tutoring, help high school students with college application essays, etc.  In other words, I am blessed with a flexible schedule and a husband who has a nine-to-five job that produces enough income for us to live on.  I'm incredibly lucky, and I know it.

So here's what I did after I read my friend's email.  I thought to myself, "What is the one thing that is most lacking in her life right now?" And the answer, obviously, was, "Time."  Time to enjoy relaxing with her family after a long day of work.  Time to enjoy the luxury of a home-cooked meal that takes longer than five minutes to throw together.  Time to come home and not have to play catch-up with all the stuff that piled up while she was out.  And I came up with a plan.  And, after a bit of incredulity and resistance on her part, I prevailed upon my friend to let me  put my plan into effect.

At 4:30 yesterday afternoon, I texted my friend to make sure she was on her way home.  I then drove over to her house with a great big beautiful lasagna that my husband the chef had made.  She knew all about the lasagna, and had given me the passcode to her garage door opener and told me how to turn on the oven.  Although she'd initially had reservations and demurred about not wanting to put me to any trouble, she  admitted that she was very glad to be looking forward to arriving home to a dinner already underway that she would not have to think about making.  ("You have to let me pay you back for the groceries!" she kept insisting.)

But I had a few other surprises up my sleeve that she did not know about, and that was part of the fun.

I parked on the street, happy that I'd thought to throw our snow shovel into the back of the car, because the driveway was completely covered in 4 inches of fresh snow.  As I shovelled it clear, I thought about how I would feel if I had to come home to an uncleared driveway with two cranky kids in the car and the prospect of making dinner still ahead of me.  I would probably take one look and burst into tears.  Clearing off the driveway was a pleasure, not a chore.  It made me so happy to think that I could smooth my friend's way toward at least one hassle-free evening.

Driveway cleared, I pulled in and unloaded the big hamper-on-wheels that we use when we're transporting large amounts of food.  I let myself in, got everything into the kitchen, started preheating the oven, and went to work.

To begin with, the second lasagna - the one for the freezer.  There are always too many noodles in the box for just one lasagna, so we'd decided to make a second and freeze it.  Into the freezer it went.

I put the cut-up Romaine lettuce and the thick, eggy Caesar dressing my husband had made into the fridge, along with a small container of grated Romano cheese I'd shared out from our own larger container at home.  Nothing is as aggravating as having a wonderful pasta dinner in front of you, wanting to put a little grated cheese on top and being unable to catch your server's eye at the restaurant, right?

Next to the salad fixings I placed an aeresol can of whipped cream. For the lasagna?  No - for the gingerbread!  M.F.K. Fisher's delectable "Edith's Gingerbread" has been a cherished standard in our family since the first time I doubtfully tried out the recipe.  Whip baking soda into molasses "until light and fluffy"?  Was M.F.K. Fisher kidding?  As it turns out, she was not - the molasses quickly turns a beautiful, creamy taffy-brown hue and doubles in size when you follow her instructions.  The result is a ginger bread that is light and fluffy, yet moist and with a tender crumb.  The spices are assertive, not aggressive, and, as Fisher remarks, the gingerbread nearly always gets gobbled up before it can even cool off, which is a pity because it is so good when it's cold.

I turned the gingerbread out of the baking pan onto a pretty plate from the cupboard and put it on the kitchen counter to save it from immediate attack by the kids - or at least, to give my friend a fighting chance to get to it first.  My friend and her husband had bought a fixer-upper house and planned the renovations themselves, and it turned out beautifully.  I admired the gorgeous granite countertops for the umpteenth time.  Behind me, the stainless-steel oven chimed out its little tune - the oven was pre-heated, the lasagna could go in!

I placed the lasagna on a cookie sheet - no need to have cheesy, tomato-y messes bubbling over for my friend to clean off the oven at midnight.  I popped it in the oven, shot her a text - "Lasagna in at 5 p.m., take out at 6, let rest 10 minutes before you eat it."  Then I turned back to the kitchen counter and unfurled half a bunch of bright yellow chrysanthemums I'd picked up at the grocery store when I'd shopped for the ingredients.  They are generous with the flowers at my supermarket, and for five dollars I'd gotten a large bunch of cheery mums that amply brightened up not only her kitchen, but mine as well!  $2.50 apiece to make two women happy certainly seemed like a bargain.

I put the flowers in a vase and propped a little handwritten menu up against them.  It all looked very pretty - the dark brown fragrant richness of the gingerbread, the golden sunshine of the flowers, the Carte du Jour in my nicest script, the shining countertops and gleaming appliances. My friend may have no time to call her own, but she is one fastitious housekeeper. I don't know how she manages it.

I finished by setting the table,  Before I left, I texted my friend again to make sure she'd be home in time to pull the lasagna out of the oven at 6:00.  Of course, she was stuck in traffic.  Of course, that was fine; I turned the oven down and texted back that the food would be ready at 6:30.  I locked up the house, hopped in my car, and went home.

At 6:45, I got the first text.

Just got home!!! Wow UR too much & U shovelled the snow! Holy shit, along w/ cake & flowers I just can't believe it what a treat!

From then on the texts came in a steady stream - the kids were ecstatic, the house smelled fantastic, her  husband, who is of Italian descent and incredibly picky about pasta, was reaching for thirds, and so on - until I finally texted back that she should stop texting already and eat her dinner before it got cold!

I cannot begin to tell you how much fun this was for all concerned.  We all felt absolutely great. There is nothing quite as gratifying as pulling off a nice surprise for somebody you love very much.  My husband, of course, enjoyed the compliments to his cooking.  My friends got a bit of pampering after a long day of hard work, nasty traffic, and horrible weather that made the commute even worse than usual.  The kids were happy because we'd deliberately chosen a meal that was kid-friendly, and because there was dessert. And, of course, because Mom and Dad were a little less stressed and exhausted than they could have been.

The best way to keep what you have is to give it away.