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Pie in Yer Eye

For more years than I care to say, I worked as a cook in a variety of settings. Restaurants, hotels, greasy-spoons, and extended care. I loved working in extended care…using food to shower love on lonely residents.

We had a set menu that we were to follow, but one cook refused to make pies if that’s what was listed for dessert. Faithfully, she’d make Jell-o instead cause she couldn’t make edible pastry…her pie shells could double as hub caps! Of course, the residents were always so disappointed…they’d look forward to “pie day” all week, only to get a bowl of Jell-o.

As I have no issues with making pastry, I took it upon myself to make the pies. I honestly thought I was doing the other cook a favor, plus making sure the residents were getting what they were expecting.

She went ballistic! Slamming pots and pans, stomping her feet, and screeching at me that I had overstepped myself and was just trying to show her up.

No amount of discussion would ever fix this, even after the boss got involved. Her bruised ego wouldn’t let her get past this incident, and she refused to talk to me until I finally moved on.