Meal ownership is divvied up among the families, with each sub-family responsible for planning and execution of a dinner for a night. As with most everything else in life when compared to my siblings, I usually underachieve on the beach dinner. I wimp out and go with pizza (if that hasn’t already been taken). I think I also cooked hamburgers one year.
Truth be told, while I really enjoy sitting down together as a large extended family for the dinner, the whole everybody-does-a-dinner-deal generates a fair amount of anxiety for me. I suppose it is a financially prudent approach, but for the rent we are paying for the property, that doesn’t really factor into my equation. I should stress that participating in the everybody-does-a-dinner-deal is optional. But electing to not participate wouldn’t feel right either, especially since everybody else does. It is a relief when you get your turn “out of the way”.
So one can say that I set that bar nice and low for the other families to blow away – and they all do, so we eat real well that week (except on my night). In 2004, my late Sister-In-Law Kathy prepared this killer version of Altoona’s Famous Texas Hot Dog Chili Sauce. I am not sure how Kathy acquired this trade secret recipe, but it (and the rest of Kathy’s meal) was outstanding – and brought a real flavor of Altoona down to North Carolina.
Unfortunately, Kathy had a small mishap while transferring the large pot of Chili Sauce from the range and a fairly significant portion of the sauce was splattered all over the kitchen. Kathy felt bad, but shouldn’t have. We have all been there, so no big deal. More than enough sauce was able to be salvaged for the meal and the important thing, of course, was that Kathy wasn’t seriously burned.
Though I have to admit that the breadth and magnitude of the spill was pretty damn impressive. At this point, I jumped into action and took the lead in cleaning up this mess. I did this because:
- I am a selfless individual by nature (always putting the needs of others above mine). OK, maybe not that.
- When it comes to seniority, I am pretty low on the Nedimyer Family Totem Pole. Well that is true, but not the real reason I jumped into the chili sauce fray.
- I had acquired practical, real-world experience in dealing with these kinds of spills from the two summers I spent during college at Mercy Hospital in their prestigious Housekeeping Department (described in this blog post). Bingo!
Ever the team player, my brother Rich also joined me in this endeavor. Armed with enough paper towels, wet wash cloths, and dish rags to sop up the Exxon Valdez spill, we attacked that kitchen with single-minded purpose and high intensity teamwork.
Now, you may not be aware of the physical properties of Altoona’s Famous Texas Hot Dog Chili Sauce, but that liquid seemed to have morphed into a gaseous state and had dispersed into every nook, cranny, and square inch of that little kitchen. Countertops and baseboards. Flooring and kitchen appliances. You name it – it was coated.
At one point, Rich and I thought we had the cleanup under control, but then lifted up the burner grates on the range only to see another layer of the sauce had taken up residence under the grates. Additional investigation also revealed that the sauce had permeated the seal where the oven door attached to the main oven unit and escaped into the oven. Each new discovery of red stuff was greeted with laughter from the on-looking peanut gallery. A fun time.
I think it was early in the cleanup process when Rich stepped back, surveyed the landscape, and made a particularly pertinent (and, for 2004, quite topical) observation:
“This looks like a member of Hezbollah strapped a salami to his chest and went home to see Allah and the seventy-two virgins.” – Rich Nedimyer
