The Best Choice on the Menu
Dec 01, 2024 06:00AM ● By Rev. Jenn Sacks
In my younger days, when I still worked in catering,
Christmastime could be a grind. Daily work schedules were filled with arduous
hours. Stress levels often ran high, and sometimes voices were raised in upset
and anger, more often in the kitchen than among customers.
Few of the staff were merry until after all the New Year’s hors d’oeuvres and brunch fare had been served. That was the nature of the season, though I sang along with carols on the radio to maintain my joyful spirit.
My main role in the business was customer service. I met with customers on the phone and in person to plan their menus and parties. I also assisted in packing food and gift baskets for delivery and served as an off-premises catering manager for parties held in private homes and offices.
The catering owners and I didn’t always see eye to eye. Sometimes, we had conflicts about which cuisine customers should choose. I quickly learned that people have their own likes and dislikes, and no amount of butter or almonds could make green beans taste any better for someone who didn’t already enjoy them.
One day, I got caught in an argument about what a customer—I’ll call her Mrs. C—should serve at her party. She didn’t want any vegetables. I guessed she didn’t like them because she kept saying she would prepare her own salad.
After she left, the owner reprimanded me, telling me Mrs. C’s choice was “stupid” or another word similar to it.
“But it’s her party, her choice,” I insisted. I could feel the owner’s disdain for her—and for me.
A few days before Christmas, as my team and I packed our van and prepared for Mrs. C’s party, the owner again disparaged the salad. She didn’t want anyone to think we had made it.
“It’ll be fine,” I said, more to reassure myself than anyone else. I knew my team would follow my lead, so I kept myself grounded as we navigated holiday traffic to reach Mrs. C’s home.
When we arrived, everything was beautifully decorated with lights shimmering on Christmas trees outside the front door and inside the cathedral-ceiling living room. Christmas music played as we entered the kitchen and began to set the dining room for dinner.
Mrs. C and I reviewed the final menu. Then she went to the refrigerator and removed her salad fixings, which included butter lettuce, strawberries, walnuts, and some type of shredded cheese.
When I asked her if she wanted me to prepare it, she laughed. “Oh, no. This is all I make, and everyone knows it.”
While we served dinner, several people complimented the food and asked who the caterer was. When Mrs. C told them, her husband joked, “Except for the salad. You know that lettuce is the only green she’ll eat.”
As Mrs. C paid the bill and gave us a gratuity, she said, “Thank you for letting me do this my way. Some other caterers I considered weren’t so accommodating.” She became a repeat customer and recommended us to others, too.
The food business can be tough, with high expectations and low profit margins. Conflicts occur between aligning with the premise that “the customer is always right” and “it’s chef’s way, or no way.”
When I reflect on catering, I’m grateful I honored Mrs. C’s and other customers’ choices, even if they weren’t my taste. As a minister now, I recognize that spiritual menus offer a greater choice than any holiday menu ever could. People participate as they feel comfortable, including at potlucks, where they share their favorite foods.
In ministry, I witness many spiritual journeys, just as I once witnessed many holiday parties. Sometimes congregants ask for advice or recommendations, though usually I just listen. I no more tell them what to choose for their lives than I told catering customers what to eat. I trust that everyone is discerning what they like best. And I wish, especially at Christmas, that they choose whatever nourishes their souls most.
To me, that’s the best choice on the menu. ❧
Few of the staff were merry until after all the New Year’s hors d’oeuvres and brunch fare had been served. That was the nature of the season, though I sang along with carols on the radio to maintain my joyful spirit.
My main role in the business was customer service. I met with customers on the phone and in person to plan their menus and parties. I also assisted in packing food and gift baskets for delivery and served as an off-premises catering manager for parties held in private homes and offices.
The catering owners and I didn’t always see eye to eye. Sometimes, we had conflicts about which cuisine customers should choose. I quickly learned that people have their own likes and dislikes, and no amount of butter or almonds could make green beans taste any better for someone who didn’t already enjoy them.
One day, I got caught in an argument about what a customer—I’ll call her Mrs. C—should serve at her party. She didn’t want any vegetables. I guessed she didn’t like them because she kept saying she would prepare her own salad.
After she left, the owner reprimanded me, telling me Mrs. C’s choice was “stupid” or another word similar to it.
“But it’s her party, her choice,” I insisted. I could feel the owner’s disdain for her—and for me.
A few days before Christmas, as my team and I packed our van and prepared for Mrs. C’s party, the owner again disparaged the salad. She didn’t want anyone to think we had made it.
“It’ll be fine,” I said, more to reassure myself than anyone else. I knew my team would follow my lead, so I kept myself grounded as we navigated holiday traffic to reach Mrs. C’s home.
When we arrived, everything was beautifully decorated with lights shimmering on Christmas trees outside the front door and inside the cathedral-ceiling living room. Christmas music played as we entered the kitchen and began to set the dining room for dinner.
Mrs. C and I reviewed the final menu. Then she went to the refrigerator and removed her salad fixings, which included butter lettuce, strawberries, walnuts, and some type of shredded cheese.
When I asked her if she wanted me to prepare it, she laughed. “Oh, no. This is all I make, and everyone knows it.”
While we served dinner, several people complimented the food and asked who the caterer was. When Mrs. C told them, her husband joked, “Except for the salad. You know that lettuce is the only green she’ll eat.”
As Mrs. C paid the bill and gave us a gratuity, she said, “Thank you for letting me do this my way. Some other caterers I considered weren’t so accommodating.” She became a repeat customer and recommended us to others, too.
The food business can be tough, with high expectations and low profit margins. Conflicts occur between aligning with the premise that “the customer is always right” and “it’s chef’s way, or no way.”
When I reflect on catering, I’m grateful I honored Mrs. C’s and other customers’ choices, even if they weren’t my taste. As a minister now, I recognize that spiritual menus offer a greater choice than any holiday menu ever could. People participate as they feel comfortable, including at potlucks, where they share their favorite foods.
In ministry, I witness many spiritual journeys, just as I once witnessed many holiday parties. Sometimes congregants ask for advice or recommendations, though usually I just listen. I no more tell them what to choose for their lives than I told catering customers what to eat. I trust that everyone is discerning what they like best. And I wish, especially at Christmas, that they choose whatever nourishes their souls most.
To me, that’s the best choice on the menu. ❧
Senior minister of Unity Atlanta Church in Peachtree Corners, Rev. Jennifer Sacks is a preacher, writer and spiritual leader. She holds a Master of Divinity from Unity Institute & Seminary. Learn more and connect with her at RevJenn.com.
