The devil and the work are in the details

Elizabeth Prinz arrived at the Jasper Activity Centre at noon Sunday laden with ingredients, ready for the final sprint in a 25-hour marathon, a buffet dinner to celebrate the efforts of 200 volunteer workers. 

Fifty pounds of marinated pork loin, 230 pieces of chicken, also marinated, thai noodles, chickpeas, couscous, chopped cabbage, carrots, pounds of butter, baby carrots, and snap peas are filed away in coolers for future reference.

Prinz, a journeyman chef and professional caterer, knows the kitchen like her own. Details of the plan for the next six hours are at the front of her mind, and she has only a few minutes to explain and describe the menu before Karen Ammon arrives.

The menu comes from her memory, the items an amalgam of favourite recipes that she has made her own: mixed greens with lime ranch dressing and mango vinaigrette, thai noodle salad, oriental cabbage slaw, curried potato salad, Thai-style pork loin, honey garlic chicken, couscous pilaf with chickpeas and vegetables, basmati rice and baby carrots and snap peas with sesame seeds and cilantro. 

Ammon has been helping Prinz for the last year. The two women talk easily, mostly about food, as they turn their attention and knives toward two plastic tubs of boiled potatoes stacked on the work table. 

Prinz places chicken breasts, wings, and legs on trays layered with parchment paper. They go into the oven first and will rest in the warming oven, waiting for the final basting with honey garlic sauce while the pork loin roasts in a large convection oven. 

Ammon pulls bags of sliced cabbage and carrots from the cooler and mixes a vast bowl of dressing for two bins of slaw, adding lemon and soy, balancing sweet, sour and savoury. 

In the auditorium, gymnastic equipment is cleared away and Greg Van Tighem, Yvonne McNabb, Barb Dyck  and Patrick Mooney wheel out stacks of tables and chairs. Tablecloths are spread and centerpieces of potted flowers are set out with brochures on volunteer projects, and the place settings.

The grad class from the high school appears in late afternoon to set up the donated deserts and take tickets at the auditorium door. Leslie Dolan walks into the kitchen just after five and tidies a few details, slicing lemons and limes for garnish. The kitchen is a scene of orchestrated chaos. Students pop in and out, stacking trays of desert portions. There is no room here for bodies that are not busy. 

Just before six, the pork loins come out of the convection oven, still a bit bouncy. Prinz slices into one, and finds it too pink. Back in the oven it goes for another 10 minutes. Final touches complete, Dolan wheels the meat dishes out into the buzz of the auditorium where the crowd sips at drinks and exchanges polite chatter.

A few minutes after 6.30 pm, Prinz takes up a post at the auditorium entrance; her kitchen whites, still free of stains, shine in the subdued light. She surveys the crowd, sips from a glass of water and smiles, the strain of a long afternoon easing from her face.