A Musty School Lunch
Teaching is my second career. My first act was the hospitality service industry and working in commercial kitchens. Both of my parents are gifted cooks and launched a successful food manufacturing business in the 1980s where I worked as a kid and always returned to.
Our home and the small factory we went to everyday after school were a makeshift culinary school. This came up during my job interview at the school and my future boss even made a comment about how exciting my school lunches might be.
I thought so too, at the time. Fast forward to the thick of being a first year teacher: me scrambling like a gerbil to keep up with the learning curve and needs of students. Lunch, which boiled down to twenty minutes after I got through peeing and making it through the microwave line, was my only moment of peace during the day.
My lunches were elaborate for a while – a leftover soba noodle stir fry with baked tofu, perhaps. But as the weeks went on and my duties became more complex, it all went to hell.
I also realized that real lunches made me sleepy, and I needed a builder's tea before the first afternoon class period to stay upright. That shaved off another five minutes because it required running to and fro the fancy office water cooler that also dispensed a rolling calcified boil.
So I did what any self-respecting person would do under the circumstances. I abandoned all of my lunchmaking standards and stashed a $1.99 loaf of Dave's Killer Bread, bag of Sargento's pepper jack slices, and Gulden's Spicy Brown Mustard in the musty teachers' lounge fridge for everyday emergency sandwich assembly.
Believe it or not, the sandwiches were surprisingly tasty. They hit all of my salt cravings, and the cheese added a nice creamy capsaicin punch. An occasional apple elevated the experience, but it was an indulgence I saved for days when I had my copies made ahead of time. So pretty much never.
My mustard sandwiches became the talk of the lunchroom, starting many a conversation with then-acquaintances-now-friends. And when the pandemic first hit, I often reminisced about those occasionally stale slices even when I could fix a better lunch teaching from home – because they were attached to moments of hilarity at school and wonderful people I so dearly missed.
