My new heroes are the people who serve food to their local communities as a way to fundraise. I'm not talking about fancy catered affairs with high ticket prices. I'm talking about grassroots events where regular folk flip pancakes, bake pies, brew coffee, wash dishes and serve home-cooked food to the hungry people who show up.
This past weekend, I was lucky enough to eat three meals of this sort. And each one made me very, very happy.
Friday night, somewhat impulsively, Ben and I found ourselves at the Swedish-American Museum for one of their Family Nights. It just so happened that they were serving heart-shaped waffles to celebrate The Feast of Annunciation, commonly referred to as Vaffelsdagen--Waffle Day. So we had absolultely no choice but to have waffles for dinner. For a mere five bucks a perky blonde lady in a bright red apron brought us waffles straight from the iron. We slathered them with butter then a smear of berry jam and then a little pile of fresh whipped cream. I was feeling really good about my Scandinavian lineage and the Swedish Museum as we munched away on our "vafflor." Ben was feeling pretty good about his waffles.
The very next morning I got up and headed over to the Mayfair Lutheran Church. On Wednesday while up at the North Park Village Nature Center, I'd overheard a couple of the octogenarian volunteers talking about an upcoming pancake breakfast. My ears tingled. On my way out I saw a funny little flyer at the front desk that specified that it was a Swedish Pancake Breakfast. So I instantly knew what my plans for Saturday morning were.
Sam was at a friend's on a sleepover and Ted & Ben were quite happy to sleep in a bit and snuggle in the covers. I went down into the Church's basement and was pleased to see my friend Sean, then my old friend Jim, who is the site steward at Gompers Park and then I saw a few of the volunteers from the Nature Center.
The pancakes were being made by two jovial gentleman while sleepy/shy tweenagers hung at the back of the kitchen slurping sodas and putting out plates and juice.
The pancakes were thin and spot-on in terms of crispness on the outside and soft inside but they were also huge. They wanted to give me three but I stopped at two. Another man, 70 years-young, shakily but sweetly put a fat sausage on my paper plate, someone else handed me a tiny cup of lingonberries. I made my way to my pals at the long table and proceeded to dress up my pancakes with butter and sugar. (That's how we ate them when I was little--only we called them rollcakes and my Grandma Ruthie didn't make them so big.) As I ate the pancakes in the bustling basement, with a crowd that was mostly past their 60's and 70's, in a church I'd never been in before, I felt completely welcome and so happy to be there. And the pancakes were divine. I only wished Ben & Ted would have joined me. Ben would have been in heaven. (If one can be in heaven and in a church basement at the same time.)
The following afternoon all four of us headed to the gym of the Old Irving Lutheran Church. This time for the Third Annual Three Brothers Chili Supper. Coordinated in part by my pal Sarah, I love this event because several generations of neighbors in the community pull it off and it feels so vibrant. Plus, the chili's pretty-darned good and they always have the most inspired decorations. (I believe Sarah's responsible for those.) Over the years, I've gotten to know more of Sarah's friends and neighbors and so last night was like being at a raucous wedding or a really fun school dance, where you go around the gym and are so happy to see people and chat and catch up with them.
This event also had a sweets table and a raffle (Sam really, really wanted to win the overnight package at Key Lime Cove, but it didn't pan out) and my favorite new addition: a Cake Walk. You know, where they play the music and you walk in a circle and then when the music stops you land on a number. If they call your number, you win a homemade cake. Brilliant. I didn't win a cake, neither did Sam (he tried six times!) but we had fun regardless. I might have a Cake Walk at my next birthday. Only I'm going to rig it so that everybody goes home with a cake. Or a little mini cake.
Obviously every weekend one can't find themselves experiencing such amazing community-rooted food gatherings. (One being me eh.) But I am certainly going to keep my ears perked for more in the future. Heck, I might even put on an apron and help serve something. And if you know of one coming up, do please let me know!
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