A text message beeped through on my phone. It was from Kathryn.
"Where are you? call asap"
That can't be good. I dialed her number, which means that I held down "1" for two seconds. When she answered, I could hear from the noise in the background that she was in the car.
"Father Pachomy just called me. One of the waitresses called in sick, and they haven't heard from Biljana. And they have forty reservations. I told him I'd come and help out...and that I'd drag you along."
Oh no!
"I'm on my way home now. Can you be ready in ten minutes?"
"Uh..."
"Okay, see you in a bit." click
Kathryn and I have been attending a church that is part of a monastery in Harper Woods. One of their fund-raising ventures is a restaurant that operates on Tuesdays for tea and Thursdays for dinner. They don't call it a restaurant, though, because of zoning restrictions. Rather, they call it a "trapeza," which is just a monastery dining hall.
We first had dinner there back in June, and thought the food was wonderful. The chef is a young Czech, who, if I remember correctly, was previously the personal chef of Mike Ilitch. We have brought Kathryn's parents to tea there as well, and have promised the same to my parents if they can ever manage to make their way north.
Our attendance at the church has become fairly regular and we have gotten to know some of the other parishioners, including Peter, the chef. So Kathryn, knowing that they are often short on waitstaff, and having experience herself waiting tables, volunteered to help out should the need arise.
And the need arose.
We got there around 4:30, and got acquainted with the kitchen, freezers, supply rooms, etc. They gave Kathryn an adorable Russian-style shirt and hat to wear. I, having never waited a table in my life, helped in the kitchen, washed dishes, bussed tables, refilled water glasses, etc. We had fun. The forty "reservations" were actually forty people in eight or so parties. It's a small place, so forty parties would have been a feat indeed.
It's a very nice restaurant, and it supports a good cause. I recommend it to all of my readers whenever they're in the area. If you go, you have to try the rack of lamb. It's exquisite.
Oh, and be sure to tip your waitstaff.
An Early English Life of St Herman of Alaska
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The article that follows is, as far as I know, the first English-language
life of St Herman of Alaska. It originally appeared under the title “Herman
— R...
1 week ago
2 comments:
By being a blessing, you were blessed ... isn't that the way it usually goes? Kathryn looks fetching in her garb. Dad and I are anxious to come up and try the place out.
Yes, she does, but I tried on her hat and Father Pachomy, the abbot of the monastery said "Oh no! You look like the Pope of Rome!!!"
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