Get ready, folks. I’ve got a party to plan. It’s a victory dinner for the local kids’ soccer team who just won the regional championship. I love the kids. Guess who volunteered to cater it? You got it right. Yours truly. I envision a big cookout celebration for parents, players, coaches, and everyone else involved. I have ordered large portable grills for the school soccer field and a bunch of tables and benches for seating. We’ll be taking a lot of photos and hoping that they’ll get featured in Top Corner Magazine, which would really make the win special for the kids. It will be a twilight after which the lights will go and illuminate a veritable feast.
Elk steaks will be the centerpiece of the event, cooked to perfection with my secret sauce. The protein will be accompanied by grilled corn, potato salad, Cole slaw, and sliced fruit. Oh, I am getting a big fancy with the last dish. Desert will be an ice cream bar with assorted flavors and toppings in a fabulous do-it-yourself display of cold wonderment.
I am not really a caterer but am known in these parts as a pretty good chef, self-taught and self-styled, apron and hat in hand. I don’t remember when and where I got the itch to excel at feeding myself and others, but I know that I am inspired by all the exciting types of protein available these days to enhance one’s ordinary diet. No mundane chicken breasts for me. Fish is a rare treat. Veggies belong in the garden as yard decor.
I am an inveterate meat eater, or a carnivore as they say. It sounds like a predator in the jungle, and it is. I have daydreams about slinging my rifle over my shoulder and getting in a Jeep, ready to make my way to place where the animals lay in wait. Perhaps I can fulfill this vision one day. Meanwhile, the kids and their entourage wait my fine fare. The table is set, the soda cans are stacked on one end, and the sweet smell of success wafts over the soccer field emanating from the roaring fire of the grill. The ice cream bar is about to be laid out in all its icy glory. I await the throngs, ready to arrive at any moment.
The victory party is now underway as the guests stack their plates and come back for more. The menu pleases every palate and half the people don’t even know they are eating elk. Of course, if they compliment the chef, I will tell them. I don’t mind taking credit, especially when the choice of food is a success. I love the idea of expanding people’s nutrition repertoire, just as I have done for my own. Why cook for others if you can’t have some kind of impact?