Here by popular demand...Cafeteria Lady
Have you ever wondered who runs the kitchen on Atlantis? Somebody has to plan meals and manage the staff that serves them. Meet Cafeteria Lady. She doesn't have a name and probably never will, but she has a lot to say. And a million thanks to Nolamom for the .gif.
Cafeteria Lady Speaks Her Mind
“Stop it, John. I mean it!”
“What is it you want me to stop, Elizabeth?”
I froze in my tracks and grabbed onto the door frame to stop myself from going any further into the kitchen. I knew those voices, and it would not be a good thing for them to find out I had heard them. Peeking around the corner, I could barely make out the figures in the dim light, but I didn’t need the big overhead lights to be on to tell me who they were.
Doctor Elizabeth Weir, my boss--heck, everybody’s boss--and Colonel John Sheppard, Military Commander of Atlantis, were sneaking into the kitchen on another of their midnight forays. What could it be this time? Chocolate? Ice cream? That one time I had caught him licking a big dollop of butter cream frosting off her finger was still burned in my brain, and I didn’t know if I was ready for another session.
I stuck my head a little further in and squinted, trying to make out what they were up to this time, so I could replace whatever they had snitched in the morning.
Weir was reaching up into a cabinet above the back counter in the section of the kitchen that we use for baking, and Sheppard was standing behind her with his hands on her hips. He appeared to be kissing her on the neck, but I couldn’t tell for sure. All I know is they had started to whisper, and I couldn’t tell if she was still telling him to stop or begging for more. If I had been in her position, I’m pretty sure it would have been the latter, but that may just be me. The Colonel sure is one mighty fine man, but everyone on this base knows he has eyes only for the Doc. No matter how much he flirts with and teases the rest of us, we know he doesn’t mean a word of it and never has.
Wouldn’t you know that just when I had hurried back down here to get the big coffee urn set up and ready to go in the morning was the very time they had chosen to invade my domain for a little midnight snack? And I had planned to add a little bit of cinnamon to the coffee mix too because I know Doctor Weir likes it. Colonel Sheppard makes those funny faces of his when I doctor the coffee, but he still drinks it without complaint.
My domain is the Atlantis kitchen. I’m the chief cook or the kitchen manager or, as Doctor McKay sometimes calls me, the Culinary Goddess. At least he calls me that when I make his favorite Knock You Naked Brownies. I’m glad nobody takes my tongue-in-cheek recipe title literally, but one time when the Colonel bit into one and winked at me, I have to admit I felt a bit disappointed.
So, anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I was relating a little bit of my backstory. When my boss at the SGC called me into her office and told me about the Atlantis expedition, I thought for a moment that she had been sampling the cooking Sherry. But I had seen a lot of strange and wondrous things while working in the dining hall way down under Cheyenne Mountain, so I took a deep breath and let it soak in. I realized later that she must have picked me for this position because I had little to no family, and if I never came back to Earth, there would be few people who would miss me. My parents are gone. I was an only child and, as far as I know, the only living relatives are a few cousins out in California somewhere who barely know I exist. My main reason for joining the Air Force in the first place was so that I could find my own place and maybe, while traveling the world, find a few people who felt like family. Travel to another galaxy, however, was never really something I had considered, but I jumped at the chance and here I am.
My job on Atlantis got a lot easier when the Daedalus began making regular supply runs and I could run this place more like a restaurant and less like a field kitchen. Out here, locally grown produce and dairy meant you had to trade with another planet, but hey, I’m okay with that. So far, we have found a remarkable number of fruits and vegetables that at least partly resemble those from Earth, and the scientists down in the hydroponic garden are starting to see good results. Last week we had some fresh tomatoes that put a big smile on that nice Doctor Zelenka’s face.
But at the moment, I was stuck here watching my bosses playing cuddle in the kitchen and hoping I could slip away before they saw me. I looked around frantically and was just starting to turn around when I heard it. Giggling. Doctor Elizabeth Weir, the elegant, smart, look-the-Wraith-queen-in-the-eye-and-never-blink leader of Atlantis was giggling like a teenager on her first date.
When the moaning started, I slipped open the nearest door and plunged into the broom closet. It was lucky I did too, because not ten seconds later they came flying by me in an almighty hurry. He had her by the hand and was pulling her along behind him, and as they went by, I looked out the crack in the door and could just barely make out some sort of container in her hand. Then I realized what it was--chocolate frosting. Well here we go again.
I came out of the closet and walked to the back of the kitchen. Sure enough, one of the cabinet doors was slightly ajar. When I opened it I knew I had been correct. Cans of frosting were neatly lined up with one missing from the very middle.
I sighed and closed the cabinet door securely. I guess I’ll just increase my order next time and maybe add a few more cans of whipped cream just for good measure. At this rate, we might run out before the Daedalus makes another run.
--/--
I always like to be in the dining hall when the Colonel’s team eats, for a number of reasons. They are fun to watch for one. The whole team seems to really like and enjoy each other, and their teasing and laughing lifts the mood of the whole room. And another reason is that they love their food, especially Ronon and Doctor McKay, and always remember to thank us for serving them. Teyla seems to be like a mother hen to those men, and I’m willing to bet she keeps them straight out on missions also. As long as you keep anything citrus off the menu, McKay will eat just about anything and plenty of it. That’s always a good thing when you’re the one who plans the menus and have to deal with so many tastes, allergies and food preferences. Ronon would eat meat and potatoes every day of the week, but I’m seeing a lot of growth in him now that he’s mastered the art of dealing with our silverware and no longer turns up his nose at the salads.
You can tell a lot about people from watching them eat. Ronon, like I mentioned, has pretty basic tastes, but I’m willing to bet that has a lot to do with all those years he spent on the run without a lot of food choices. He still likes to get back to basics on occasion though, like the time he pulled some sort of furry dead mammal out of a sack and slung it up on the kitchen counter for me to cook. It reminded me of the times back in Alabama when my daddy went out rabbit hunting and brought several home for Mama and me. I told Ronon the same thing we used to tell Daddy. You clean it. I’ll cook it. That seemed to be a plan, and the darn thing turned out to be quite tasty.
Doctor McKay, though, doesn’t really want to know the origin of his food or see any of the process that gets it on the table. But once it’s there, he can put away an amazing amount for his body weight. He talks a lot about his allergies, but I’ve found that as long as he doesn’t know what’s in a dish, it doesn’t seem to bother him.
Teyla does love her tuttleroot soup, and she told me a story one time about making it with that sweet old lady who passed away here a few years ago. I thanked her for the recipe and only hope we do it justice. Other than that, she’s taken quite handily to Earth food and is especially fond of my apple cobbler. Or papple as my staff calls it, because whatever it is, it’s not an apple, but it’s close enough. And now that she has a family, I make sure there are a variety of healthy snacks on hand for little Torren, and the look on Kanaan’s face the first time he tasted chocolate just made me laugh out loud.
Now Colonel Sheppard, to look at him you’d think he could use a good meal, but the man does love to eat and puts away almost as much as McKay. He just burns it off I guess. Watching him eat my chocolate mousse cake is a joy to behold, and he always remembers to come by and thank me for it afterwards. You can tell he had a good upbringing because he has the manners of a Southern gentleman. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was from down home.
One night my former boss and I were alone in the kitchen at the SGC waiting for several teams to return and got to laughing about the people we serve and how they eat. She told me about a theory some therapist has about how you can tell what kind of lover a man is by how he eats. We almost wet ourselves speculating about some guys, but I can’t help but think of that night every time I’m lucky enough to watch Colonel Sheppard consume a meal.
He takes small bites and chews each one thoroughly before he swallows. Then he seems to think about the next bite. Sometimes he licks crumbs off his lips and other times he licks the last of the gravy off his fork very slowly. I don’t know how Doctor Weir can sit there and watch all this without crawling over the table. Personally, I have to turn around and head back into the walk-in freezer before I embarrass myself.
Doctor Weir seems to enjoy her food when she’s comes around to eat, but we don’t see her in here much. The Colonel usually takes her a tray for breakfast, and I always try to have something that I know she will like ready to go so he won’t have to ask. I see them having lunch together occasionally, which they seem to really enjoy, but I know she doesn’t eat enough for a bird on a daily basis. The stress of running this place has got to put anybody off their feed, not to mention dealing with that stick-up-the-behind bunch from the IOA.
The IOA, pffft. I don’t look forward to their infrequent visits to Atlantis. All of them seem to need a good cleansing if you ask me. They turn up their noses at the local foods and want to know the exact ingredients and their nutritional value for everything. I’m tempted to get one of those Iratus bugs from Doc Beckett’s lab and throw him in the soup just to see their reaction. Tempted, but I love my job too much to actually do it.
Speaking of the Doc, just about the sweetest man I have ever met is Doctor Carson Beckett. I don’t care that he got cloned and isn’t our original, he’s all right by me, and he dearly loves my shortbread cookies.
Doctor Keller started out as a skittish little thing, but she seems to have settled down a lot. I don’t quite get her relationship with Doctor McKay. But I guess there is somebody for everybody as the song says. She’s a lovely girl and never complains about the food. I know she’s particularly fond of my lemon meringue pie, so I try to always have some on hand for her. McKay doesn’t even complain when she eats it right in front of him, so it must be true love.
I know the names and positions of everybody in this city and really like most of them. We try to keep something out for them twenty-four seven due to the fact that most of the scientists don’t seem to have a regular schedule and work at all hours of the day and night. The military guys need lots of coffee to keep them awake while they stand guard waiting for all hell to break loose, and we also make special treats we know they will like for when the tension eases a bit.
Things got right bad around here after we had been in the city for about a year, and then they got better again. But that fourth year. I thought we’d never get over that one and was particularly worried about the Colonel. Watching him grieve like he did when Doctor Weir was missing and presumed dead was almost more than you could stand. I tried to tempt him with brownies and cookies and all the things I know he loves, but all I got was a nod of thanks and those sad puppy eyes.
Then we got her back and things started to look up. Now he’s as happy as I’ve ever seen him and so is she. In fact the whole place is lighter with Doctor Weir back in her office where she belongs. I liked Mister Woolsey just fine, but he was no Elizabeth Weir. I will admit though, he insisted on a higher quality of food than we were used to. All his pull with the IOA got us filet mignon and lobster tails on a couple of occasions. Granted it was frozen, but he seemed to think we did a fine job of preparing it to his liking. And thanks to him, what we laughingly call the Atlantis wine cellar is still going strong. That room that used to be the reading library turned out to be useful after all. Now that everybody is poking away at computer tablets, you almost never see a paper book around here. Well, except that old copy of War and Peace that the Colonel sometimes leaves behind. I snuck a peak at his bookmark the last time I saved it for him. He’s up to page 653, right on schedule according to him.
The IOA made one right decision, in my opinion, when they let Doctor Weir return to her job as leader of this expedition. And the fact that they and the Air Force put their heads together and agreed to give Colonel Sheppard equal authority was just about the best thing they could have done under the circumstances. That freed them up to get together on a personal level, if you know what I mean, and just tickled all of us to death. After all we’ve been through, and all the times so many folks here have been modified by aliens in some shape or form, what else could they do? I’m one of the few old timers who has all her original parts, I’m thinking, and considering some of the strange foods I’ve eaten, I’m not so sure I’m still 100 percent me. But it comes with the territory, as does death and destruction and worrying about those who might not come back. I don’t know how Doctor Weir got through all those times when the Colonel was missing or held prisoner or tortured by various and sundry bad guys. Every time we lose somebody, my staff and I just have to take a few moments and think about how much we will miss them and make up a batch of their favorite foods in honor of their passing.
I’ve heard it said that the kitchen is the heart of the home, and that rule also seems to apply here in Atlantis. As long as I am in charge of this place, everyone will be welcome at any time to come in, have a bite and stay as long as they want. Even after the kitchen is officially shut down, we keep sandwiches, fruit and drinks ready to be picked up. Atlantis never sleeps and neither does the kitchen.
Well, I’ve chatted long enough. It’s time I got some rest because tomorrow is a busy day. Major Lorne’s team is due back from a mission and I know
they will want hot food and plenty of it. I hear the guys down in hydroponics have some eggplants ready to pick, and I want to make sure we have everything we need on hand to make eggplant parmesan. And I can’t forget to make up a batch of chocolate chip cookies for Sargeant Campbell. If I take him a few while they are still warm, he might just give me the low down on what’s going on with Ronon and that cute Amelia.
Yep, just another average day in the Pegasus Galaxy.
--/--
Sometimes I can’t help but remember what things were like around here back in the early days. Just this morning I was reminded of how tense that first year could sometimes be and how lonely and alone we all were.
I was fixing to mix up a big batch of batter for my almond pound cake when I remembered that Colonel Sheppard’s team was off world and there was nobody to take Doctor Weir her breakfast. Usually, I just have one of my staff take a tray up to her office, but I glanced at the calendar and decided to go myself. We all go by the Earth calendar here in Atlantis because it gives us just a little bit more of a connection to home and grounds us somewhat. Ordinarily, we don’t celebrate holidays because, considering our international population, it would mean we’d have something going on every day. Once in a while though, I like to sneak in a little remembrance of a day or two that is special to the people I care about.
Today is Memorial Day in the USA, and I know all the military, no matter what country they are from, and especially Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard, will appreciate being reminded.
I planned to use that almond pound cake, when I finally got it baked, to make up a big batch of red, white and blue trifles using strawberries and blueberries grown right here in our hydroponic garden. That would be enough to get everybody’s mind headed in the right direction, and in our own special ways, we could remember those who had given it all so we could remain free to explore another galaxy.
But first, I wanted to make sure the Doc had a good breakfast to help her get through the waiting for the signal that Sheppard’s team was heading home all in one piece.
I piled a bagel and some yogurt on a tray with a cup of fresh fruit and headed on up to the control room. On the way, I got to thinking about how nervous I used to be when I had to go up there and report on what we were up to down here in the kitchen.
Oh it was a time, let me tell you, right before the Wraith all came to attack us. We were getting awfully low on food, thoroughly sick of MREs, and I had to use all my imagination to get everybody fed. The Athosians were a big help, but even they couldn’t produce things like flour and coffee. I learned a lot from some of the Athosian women we brought in to teach us how to use their roughly ground grains and sweeteners, and now I don’t know how I would cook without that delicious Athosian honey.
While we were waiting for that big armada of Wraith ships to get here, Doctor Weir held meetings with all the departments to find out how they were preparing to handle what later came to be called The Siege. I have never been a fan of public speaking, so having to report under such pressure was not doing my nervous stomach a bit of good. It doesn’t seem to matter if I’m talking in front of a crowd or just one or two. I was hoping to make my report just to the Doctor and then escape, but when I walked into the conference room, there sat Colonel Sheppard all reared back in his chair like he was about to tumble sideways. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried in vain to make my pulse slow down to normal. It didn’t help that I suddenly remembered that old story about picturing your audience in their unmentionables.
One time the Colonel had bent over in the dining hall to pick up a fork he had dropped, and I got a peak at the top of the cutest little pair of pink striped boxer shorts I have ever laid eyes on. Lord have mercy, those boxers have appeared in my dreams more than a number of times since that day. But on that day, I knew if I let my imagination run wild, I would never manage to stand up and tell what I had come to say. Besides, by this time it was obvious to all of us that if anybody ever got a good look at the Colonel’s undies, it was likely to be Doctor Weir.
I usually changed into my Air Force uniform for meetings, but this time, with the urgency of it all, I had only had time to throw on a clean chef’s coat. The Colonel was never one to stand on ceremony anyway, so I didn’t think he’d mind that I was out of uniform. In fact sometimes I think most people around here forget that I am officially a Chief Master Sergeant in the United States Air Force. All the scientists and most of the enlisted personnel just call me by my first name. The officers and the Marines mostly call me “Chief”, which I kind of like.
As quickly as possible, I ran down the situation we were facing with diminishing food supplies. The Colonel straightened up in his chair and exchanged a few intense looks with the Doctor. Some of those who pay more attention to other people’s business than is strictly necessary call what they do “eyesex” and sometimes even a far ruder form of the word. I like to think of it as “eyeromance”, but even that is not entirely accurate because they do it right in front of all of us. It’s like they can read each other’s minds sometimes. I left them to it and went on back down to the kitchen to try to figure out how we were going to keep everybody’s energy up until the Wraith arrived to kill us.
Somehow we got through it, and now we are in a far better situation food wise. I figure my kitchen is about on the order of your average cafeteria back home, but with limited fresh food and few options for being creative. They hauled a whole bunch of equipment out here on the Daedalus, so we’re good to go in that regard. That is, we were once the engineers figured out how to make it all work.
I wanted to get Doctor Weir’s breakfast down to her this morning before she got so far into her day she couldn’t stop to enjoy it, so I hurried on down to her office. The Colonel hangs around sometimes to make sure she actually eats what he brings her, so I figured while he’s away I’d do the same. She said she liked the little fruit cup with the tiny US flag in it, and I could tell she knew what day it is.The Doc seemed to want to visit a bit, so I sat for a spell and helped her wait for the ‘gate to light up. They were right on time for once, and luckily Doctor Weir had finished her breakfast, because once the Sergeant yelled out that it was Colonel Sheppard’s IDC, she threw down her napkin and took off running down the stairs.
Seeing her face when he comes strolling back through the event horizon would brighten up anybody’s day. I still haven’t been able to stop grinning at the way they looked at each other while McKay jabbered about something and Teyla and Ronon stood there smiling and nodding at them.
Well, that’s enough daydreaming for now. It’s almost time to start serving dinner, and I want to make sure the trifles are all ready to go. That turkey sandwich the Colonel scarfed down earlier must be gone by now, and I know the rest of the team will appreciate a good hot meal after several days away. Plus, the Daedalus is just a few days out, and I have to rearrange the storeroom so it will accommodate all the new goods that are on the way. This is a busy job, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
--/--
One of the Airmen came to me this morning whining about getting his feelings hurt by Doctor McKay. Now I know he hasn’t been around here very long, but I also know that this job beats washing dishes in a dining hall in North Dakota. I told him so in no uncertain terms, which didn’t please him much. He said Yes Ma’am and went back to work, but not before I chewed his ass for Ma’aming an NCO. Call me Chief Master Sergeant or just Chief, but you don’t have to Ma’am anybody around here except officers and Doctor Weir. It’s like my old drill instructor always said, Don’t call me ‘Sir’, I work for a living.
Some of these kids forget they’re in another galaxy after a while. I will admit that Doctor McKay takes some getting used to, but considering the pressure he’s under on a daily basis, we’re lucky he doesn’t bite more heads off. Just give him some of that blue jello. He’ll calm right down and forget what he was yelling at you for.
Once you learn to overlook the eccentric element to most of the scientists, you find out that they’re just like everybody else. They all appreciate being treated with kindness and respect and all love a good meal. The only person I never did develop a tolerance for was that Doctor Kavanaugh. The first time I ever laid eyes on him I wanted to grab him by that scrawny little ponytail and give it a snip with my kitchen shears. Never could tolerate long hair on a grown man, well, except maybe for Ronon. On him it somehow fits, and since he’s from another galaxy, I give him a free pass.
Kavanaugh was just a mean little SOB, and as far as I could tell, nobody could much stand him. He went down the food line with his nose in the air like he was expecting to be served gourmet grub on a silver platter. I was tempted to do something naughty to him a number of times. Thankfully, I managed to restrain my natural instincts. Now he’s gone and good riddance I say.
As the highest ranking NCO on this base, I get to handle a lot of disciplinary issues that I’d just as soon pass on to someone else. A lot of it is petty stuff that we don’t want to bother Major Lorne or the Colonel with, so I put on my big girl panties and deal with it. However, it does not improve my mood when I have to brace some Airman in the hallway and yell in his face. But I do it when it’s called for. Even those big strapping Marines have learned that I will do the same for them, even if I have to stand on a step stool to do it.
I learned how to deal with people working in my parents’ restaurant back in Alabama. If you can handle hungry families and crowds of college kids at the same time without a fist fight breaking out, you can do most anything. I always knew I wanted to run my own kitchen someday, and I loved seeing those crisp uniforms on the service men and women that came to eat with us. So it was natural that I would put the two together. After I finished my Associates degree in Hospitality Management with a side serving of Culinary Arts, I looked around for something to do with the rest of my life. I knew I wasn’t cut out to shoot at folks, but I sure could feed those who were.
Many years later and by a roundabout path, I ended up in the lost city of Atlantis, not to say that I didn’t enjoy my years at the SGC. The only thing I minded about that job was being way down there under the ground so far you sometimes wondered if that elevator was ever going to stop. Here in Atlantis, being able to walk into my dining hall and see the sky and the sea all around us is a treat indeed.
What I really like is when some of my old friends drop by for a visit. Teal’c was here a few years ago, and I made sure we had plenty of tater tots on the menu. He just looked up at me and nodded like he was the happiest man in the place. I could swear he smiled a little bit.
General O’Neill came by when we were moving back in after that unfortunate situation with the Ancients throwing us out of our own home just to tell me he was glad I was here. I told him not to worry his mind for one minute. No stuck up bunch of people who wouldn’t even have a city to come home to if it wasn’t for us were going to keep me away. He grabbed a piece of my chocolate chip cake on the way out and told me to keep up the good work. I must have stood there grinning for five minutes before I was able to get my mind back on the task at hand.
Having Colonel Carter here for a time was nice, but somehow the fact that she replaced Doctor Weir never set right with me. Granted, I think the world of the Colonel. She’s one of the nicest people you ever want to meet. But every time I went into the office and saw her sitting in Doctor Weir’s chair, I just got a tightness in my chest that didn’t want to go away. I could tell Colonel Sheppard felt the same way, though he never let it show in front of the other Colonel. He’s way too much of a gentleman and a good officer to let his personal feelings interfere with his relationship with a superior. We all made Colonel Carter welcome the best we could and didn’t hold it against her that Doctor Weir was gone, but somehow it just never felt right.
I was happy to make sure we had enough of the foods she liked best when Colonel Carter came down to eat, and sometimes I even served her myself. I noticed that she seemed to prefer dining with Colonel Sheppard’s team. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that she already knew Doctor McKay from back in the earlier days, but I never asked any questions.
That balcony off the dining hall is a really pleasant place to eat on a nice day, and I was tickled pink when I saw Major Lorne painting a picture of it. I gave him a nice compliment, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when he presented the finished product to me as a present. He waited with a big grin on his face to see what I thought, and when I took a close look, I couldn’t help but give him a big old hug around the neck. He had painted in Colonel Sheppard’s team having a meal and right there, sitting beside the Colonel and smiling, was Doctor Weir. I would have given anything to see that happen in real life, and now that we have her back, my dream has become a reality.
Now it’s time for me to get some sleep. I have to be up early because the Daedalus is due in sometime tomorrow morning. It looks like I’ve started reminiscing and can’t find a good stopping place. I think I’ll just continue to get my thoughts down so that, if I ever do leave this place, my replacement will be able to understand what he or she is getting into.
Cafeteria Lady Speaks Her Mind
“Stop it, John. I mean it!”
“What is it you want me to stop, Elizabeth?”
I froze in my tracks and grabbed onto the door frame to stop myself from going any further into the kitchen. I knew those voices, and it would not be a good thing for them to find out I had heard them. Peeking around the corner, I could barely make out the figures in the dim light, but I didn’t need the big overhead lights to be on to tell me who they were.
Doctor Elizabeth Weir, my boss--heck, everybody’s boss--and Colonel John Sheppard, Military Commander of Atlantis, were sneaking into the kitchen on another of their midnight forays. What could it be this time? Chocolate? Ice cream? That one time I had caught him licking a big dollop of butter cream frosting off her finger was still burned in my brain, and I didn’t know if I was ready for another session.
I stuck my head a little further in and squinted, trying to make out what they were up to this time, so I could replace whatever they had snitched in the morning.
Weir was reaching up into a cabinet above the back counter in the section of the kitchen that we use for baking, and Sheppard was standing behind her with his hands on her hips. He appeared to be kissing her on the neck, but I couldn’t tell for sure. All I know is they had started to whisper, and I couldn’t tell if she was still telling him to stop or begging for more. If I had been in her position, I’m pretty sure it would have been the latter, but that may just be me. The Colonel sure is one mighty fine man, but everyone on this base knows he has eyes only for the Doc. No matter how much he flirts with and teases the rest of us, we know he doesn’t mean a word of it and never has.
Wouldn’t you know that just when I had hurried back down here to get the big coffee urn set up and ready to go in the morning was the very time they had chosen to invade my domain for a little midnight snack? And I had planned to add a little bit of cinnamon to the coffee mix too because I know Doctor Weir likes it. Colonel Sheppard makes those funny faces of his when I doctor the coffee, but he still drinks it without complaint.
My domain is the Atlantis kitchen. I’m the chief cook or the kitchen manager or, as Doctor McKay sometimes calls me, the Culinary Goddess. At least he calls me that when I make his favorite Knock You Naked Brownies. I’m glad nobody takes my tongue-in-cheek recipe title literally, but one time when the Colonel bit into one and winked at me, I have to admit I felt a bit disappointed.
So, anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I was relating a little bit of my backstory. When my boss at the SGC called me into her office and told me about the Atlantis expedition, I thought for a moment that she had been sampling the cooking Sherry. But I had seen a lot of strange and wondrous things while working in the dining hall way down under Cheyenne Mountain, so I took a deep breath and let it soak in. I realized later that she must have picked me for this position because I had little to no family, and if I never came back to Earth, there would be few people who would miss me. My parents are gone. I was an only child and, as far as I know, the only living relatives are a few cousins out in California somewhere who barely know I exist. My main reason for joining the Air Force in the first place was so that I could find my own place and maybe, while traveling the world, find a few people who felt like family. Travel to another galaxy, however, was never really something I had considered, but I jumped at the chance and here I am.
My job on Atlantis got a lot easier when the Daedalus began making regular supply runs and I could run this place more like a restaurant and less like a field kitchen. Out here, locally grown produce and dairy meant you had to trade with another planet, but hey, I’m okay with that. So far, we have found a remarkable number of fruits and vegetables that at least partly resemble those from Earth, and the scientists down in the hydroponic garden are starting to see good results. Last week we had some fresh tomatoes that put a big smile on that nice Doctor Zelenka’s face.
But at the moment, I was stuck here watching my bosses playing cuddle in the kitchen and hoping I could slip away before they saw me. I looked around frantically and was just starting to turn around when I heard it. Giggling. Doctor Elizabeth Weir, the elegant, smart, look-the-Wraith-queen-in-the-eye-and-never-blink leader of Atlantis was giggling like a teenager on her first date.
When the moaning started, I slipped open the nearest door and plunged into the broom closet. It was lucky I did too, because not ten seconds later they came flying by me in an almighty hurry. He had her by the hand and was pulling her along behind him, and as they went by, I looked out the crack in the door and could just barely make out some sort of container in her hand. Then I realized what it was--chocolate frosting. Well here we go again.
I came out of the closet and walked to the back of the kitchen. Sure enough, one of the cabinet doors was slightly ajar. When I opened it I knew I had been correct. Cans of frosting were neatly lined up with one missing from the very middle.
I sighed and closed the cabinet door securely. I guess I’ll just increase my order next time and maybe add a few more cans of whipped cream just for good measure. At this rate, we might run out before the Daedalus makes another run.
--/--
I always like to be in the dining hall when the Colonel’s team eats, for a number of reasons. They are fun to watch for one. The whole team seems to really like and enjoy each other, and their teasing and laughing lifts the mood of the whole room. And another reason is that they love their food, especially Ronon and Doctor McKay, and always remember to thank us for serving them. Teyla seems to be like a mother hen to those men, and I’m willing to bet she keeps them straight out on missions also. As long as you keep anything citrus off the menu, McKay will eat just about anything and plenty of it. That’s always a good thing when you’re the one who plans the menus and have to deal with so many tastes, allergies and food preferences. Ronon would eat meat and potatoes every day of the week, but I’m seeing a lot of growth in him now that he’s mastered the art of dealing with our silverware and no longer turns up his nose at the salads.
You can tell a lot about people from watching them eat. Ronon, like I mentioned, has pretty basic tastes, but I’m willing to bet that has a lot to do with all those years he spent on the run without a lot of food choices. He still likes to get back to basics on occasion though, like the time he pulled some sort of furry dead mammal out of a sack and slung it up on the kitchen counter for me to cook. It reminded me of the times back in Alabama when my daddy went out rabbit hunting and brought several home for Mama and me. I told Ronon the same thing we used to tell Daddy. You clean it. I’ll cook it. That seemed to be a plan, and the darn thing turned out to be quite tasty.
Doctor McKay, though, doesn’t really want to know the origin of his food or see any of the process that gets it on the table. But once it’s there, he can put away an amazing amount for his body weight. He talks a lot about his allergies, but I’ve found that as long as he doesn’t know what’s in a dish, it doesn’t seem to bother him.
Teyla does love her tuttleroot soup, and she told me a story one time about making it with that sweet old lady who passed away here a few years ago. I thanked her for the recipe and only hope we do it justice. Other than that, she’s taken quite handily to Earth food and is especially fond of my apple cobbler. Or papple as my staff calls it, because whatever it is, it’s not an apple, but it’s close enough. And now that she has a family, I make sure there are a variety of healthy snacks on hand for little Torren, and the look on Kanaan’s face the first time he tasted chocolate just made me laugh out loud.
Now Colonel Sheppard, to look at him you’d think he could use a good meal, but the man does love to eat and puts away almost as much as McKay. He just burns it off I guess. Watching him eat my chocolate mousse cake is a joy to behold, and he always remembers to come by and thank me for it afterwards. You can tell he had a good upbringing because he has the manners of a Southern gentleman. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was from down home.
One night my former boss and I were alone in the kitchen at the SGC waiting for several teams to return and got to laughing about the people we serve and how they eat. She told me about a theory some therapist has about how you can tell what kind of lover a man is by how he eats. We almost wet ourselves speculating about some guys, but I can’t help but think of that night every time I’m lucky enough to watch Colonel Sheppard consume a meal.
He takes small bites and chews each one thoroughly before he swallows. Then he seems to think about the next bite. Sometimes he licks crumbs off his lips and other times he licks the last of the gravy off his fork very slowly. I don’t know how Doctor Weir can sit there and watch all this without crawling over the table. Personally, I have to turn around and head back into the walk-in freezer before I embarrass myself.
Doctor Weir seems to enjoy her food when she’s comes around to eat, but we don’t see her in here much. The Colonel usually takes her a tray for breakfast, and I always try to have something that I know she will like ready to go so he won’t have to ask. I see them having lunch together occasionally, which they seem to really enjoy, but I know she doesn’t eat enough for a bird on a daily basis. The stress of running this place has got to put anybody off their feed, not to mention dealing with that stick-up-the-behind bunch from the IOA.
The IOA, pffft. I don’t look forward to their infrequent visits to Atlantis. All of them seem to need a good cleansing if you ask me. They turn up their noses at the local foods and want to know the exact ingredients and their nutritional value for everything. I’m tempted to get one of those Iratus bugs from Doc Beckett’s lab and throw him in the soup just to see their reaction. Tempted, but I love my job too much to actually do it.
Speaking of the Doc, just about the sweetest man I have ever met is Doctor Carson Beckett. I don’t care that he got cloned and isn’t our original, he’s all right by me, and he dearly loves my shortbread cookies.
Doctor Keller started out as a skittish little thing, but she seems to have settled down a lot. I don’t quite get her relationship with Doctor McKay. But I guess there is somebody for everybody as the song says. She’s a lovely girl and never complains about the food. I know she’s particularly fond of my lemon meringue pie, so I try to always have some on hand for her. McKay doesn’t even complain when she eats it right in front of him, so it must be true love.
I know the names and positions of everybody in this city and really like most of them. We try to keep something out for them twenty-four seven due to the fact that most of the scientists don’t seem to have a regular schedule and work at all hours of the day and night. The military guys need lots of coffee to keep them awake while they stand guard waiting for all hell to break loose, and we also make special treats we know they will like for when the tension eases a bit.
Things got right bad around here after we had been in the city for about a year, and then they got better again. But that fourth year. I thought we’d never get over that one and was particularly worried about the Colonel. Watching him grieve like he did when Doctor Weir was missing and presumed dead was almost more than you could stand. I tried to tempt him with brownies and cookies and all the things I know he loves, but all I got was a nod of thanks and those sad puppy eyes.
Then we got her back and things started to look up. Now he’s as happy as I’ve ever seen him and so is she. In fact the whole place is lighter with Doctor Weir back in her office where she belongs. I liked Mister Woolsey just fine, but he was no Elizabeth Weir. I will admit though, he insisted on a higher quality of food than we were used to. All his pull with the IOA got us filet mignon and lobster tails on a couple of occasions. Granted it was frozen, but he seemed to think we did a fine job of preparing it to his liking. And thanks to him, what we laughingly call the Atlantis wine cellar is still going strong. That room that used to be the reading library turned out to be useful after all. Now that everybody is poking away at computer tablets, you almost never see a paper book around here. Well, except that old copy of War and Peace that the Colonel sometimes leaves behind. I snuck a peak at his bookmark the last time I saved it for him. He’s up to page 653, right on schedule according to him.
The IOA made one right decision, in my opinion, when they let Doctor Weir return to her job as leader of this expedition. And the fact that they and the Air Force put their heads together and agreed to give Colonel Sheppard equal authority was just about the best thing they could have done under the circumstances. That freed them up to get together on a personal level, if you know what I mean, and just tickled all of us to death. After all we’ve been through, and all the times so many folks here have been modified by aliens in some shape or form, what else could they do? I’m one of the few old timers who has all her original parts, I’m thinking, and considering some of the strange foods I’ve eaten, I’m not so sure I’m still 100 percent me. But it comes with the territory, as does death and destruction and worrying about those who might not come back. I don’t know how Doctor Weir got through all those times when the Colonel was missing or held prisoner or tortured by various and sundry bad guys. Every time we lose somebody, my staff and I just have to take a few moments and think about how much we will miss them and make up a batch of their favorite foods in honor of their passing.
I’ve heard it said that the kitchen is the heart of the home, and that rule also seems to apply here in Atlantis. As long as I am in charge of this place, everyone will be welcome at any time to come in, have a bite and stay as long as they want. Even after the kitchen is officially shut down, we keep sandwiches, fruit and drinks ready to be picked up. Atlantis never sleeps and neither does the kitchen.
Well, I’ve chatted long enough. It’s time I got some rest because tomorrow is a busy day. Major Lorne’s team is due back from a mission and I know
they will want hot food and plenty of it. I hear the guys down in hydroponics have some eggplants ready to pick, and I want to make sure we have everything we need on hand to make eggplant parmesan. And I can’t forget to make up a batch of chocolate chip cookies for Sargeant Campbell. If I take him a few while they are still warm, he might just give me the low down on what’s going on with Ronon and that cute Amelia.
Yep, just another average day in the Pegasus Galaxy.
--/--
Sometimes I can’t help but remember what things were like around here back in the early days. Just this morning I was reminded of how tense that first year could sometimes be and how lonely and alone we all were.
I was fixing to mix up a big batch of batter for my almond pound cake when I remembered that Colonel Sheppard’s team was off world and there was nobody to take Doctor Weir her breakfast. Usually, I just have one of my staff take a tray up to her office, but I glanced at the calendar and decided to go myself. We all go by the Earth calendar here in Atlantis because it gives us just a little bit more of a connection to home and grounds us somewhat. Ordinarily, we don’t celebrate holidays because, considering our international population, it would mean we’d have something going on every day. Once in a while though, I like to sneak in a little remembrance of a day or two that is special to the people I care about.
Today is Memorial Day in the USA, and I know all the military, no matter what country they are from, and especially Doctor Weir and Colonel Sheppard, will appreciate being reminded.
I planned to use that almond pound cake, when I finally got it baked, to make up a big batch of red, white and blue trifles using strawberries and blueberries grown right here in our hydroponic garden. That would be enough to get everybody’s mind headed in the right direction, and in our own special ways, we could remember those who had given it all so we could remain free to explore another galaxy.
But first, I wanted to make sure the Doc had a good breakfast to help her get through the waiting for the signal that Sheppard’s team was heading home all in one piece.
I piled a bagel and some yogurt on a tray with a cup of fresh fruit and headed on up to the control room. On the way, I got to thinking about how nervous I used to be when I had to go up there and report on what we were up to down here in the kitchen.
Oh it was a time, let me tell you, right before the Wraith all came to attack us. We were getting awfully low on food, thoroughly sick of MREs, and I had to use all my imagination to get everybody fed. The Athosians were a big help, but even they couldn’t produce things like flour and coffee. I learned a lot from some of the Athosian women we brought in to teach us how to use their roughly ground grains and sweeteners, and now I don’t know how I would cook without that delicious Athosian honey.
While we were waiting for that big armada of Wraith ships to get here, Doctor Weir held meetings with all the departments to find out how they were preparing to handle what later came to be called The Siege. I have never been a fan of public speaking, so having to report under such pressure was not doing my nervous stomach a bit of good. It doesn’t seem to matter if I’m talking in front of a crowd or just one or two. I was hoping to make my report just to the Doctor and then escape, but when I walked into the conference room, there sat Colonel Sheppard all reared back in his chair like he was about to tumble sideways. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried in vain to make my pulse slow down to normal. It didn’t help that I suddenly remembered that old story about picturing your audience in their unmentionables.
One time the Colonel had bent over in the dining hall to pick up a fork he had dropped, and I got a peak at the top of the cutest little pair of pink striped boxer shorts I have ever laid eyes on. Lord have mercy, those boxers have appeared in my dreams more than a number of times since that day. But on that day, I knew if I let my imagination run wild, I would never manage to stand up and tell what I had come to say. Besides, by this time it was obvious to all of us that if anybody ever got a good look at the Colonel’s undies, it was likely to be Doctor Weir.
I usually changed into my Air Force uniform for meetings, but this time, with the urgency of it all, I had only had time to throw on a clean chef’s coat. The Colonel was never one to stand on ceremony anyway, so I didn’t think he’d mind that I was out of uniform. In fact sometimes I think most people around here forget that I am officially a Chief Master Sergeant in the United States Air Force. All the scientists and most of the enlisted personnel just call me by my first name. The officers and the Marines mostly call me “Chief”, which I kind of like.
As quickly as possible, I ran down the situation we were facing with diminishing food supplies. The Colonel straightened up in his chair and exchanged a few intense looks with the Doctor. Some of those who pay more attention to other people’s business than is strictly necessary call what they do “eyesex” and sometimes even a far ruder form of the word. I like to think of it as “eyeromance”, but even that is not entirely accurate because they do it right in front of all of us. It’s like they can read each other’s minds sometimes. I left them to it and went on back down to the kitchen to try to figure out how we were going to keep everybody’s energy up until the Wraith arrived to kill us.
Somehow we got through it, and now we are in a far better situation food wise. I figure my kitchen is about on the order of your average cafeteria back home, but with limited fresh food and few options for being creative. They hauled a whole bunch of equipment out here on the Daedalus, so we’re good to go in that regard. That is, we were once the engineers figured out how to make it all work.
I wanted to get Doctor Weir’s breakfast down to her this morning before she got so far into her day she couldn’t stop to enjoy it, so I hurried on down to her office. The Colonel hangs around sometimes to make sure she actually eats what he brings her, so I figured while he’s away I’d do the same. She said she liked the little fruit cup with the tiny US flag in it, and I could tell she knew what day it is.The Doc seemed to want to visit a bit, so I sat for a spell and helped her wait for the ‘gate to light up. They were right on time for once, and luckily Doctor Weir had finished her breakfast, because once the Sergeant yelled out that it was Colonel Sheppard’s IDC, she threw down her napkin and took off running down the stairs.
Seeing her face when he comes strolling back through the event horizon would brighten up anybody’s day. I still haven’t been able to stop grinning at the way they looked at each other while McKay jabbered about something and Teyla and Ronon stood there smiling and nodding at them.
Well, that’s enough daydreaming for now. It’s almost time to start serving dinner, and I want to make sure the trifles are all ready to go. That turkey sandwich the Colonel scarfed down earlier must be gone by now, and I know the rest of the team will appreciate a good hot meal after several days away. Plus, the Daedalus is just a few days out, and I have to rearrange the storeroom so it will accommodate all the new goods that are on the way. This is a busy job, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
--/--
One of the Airmen came to me this morning whining about getting his feelings hurt by Doctor McKay. Now I know he hasn’t been around here very long, but I also know that this job beats washing dishes in a dining hall in North Dakota. I told him so in no uncertain terms, which didn’t please him much. He said Yes Ma’am and went back to work, but not before I chewed his ass for Ma’aming an NCO. Call me Chief Master Sergeant or just Chief, but you don’t have to Ma’am anybody around here except officers and Doctor Weir. It’s like my old drill instructor always said, Don’t call me ‘Sir’, I work for a living.
Some of these kids forget they’re in another galaxy after a while. I will admit that Doctor McKay takes some getting used to, but considering the pressure he’s under on a daily basis, we’re lucky he doesn’t bite more heads off. Just give him some of that blue jello. He’ll calm right down and forget what he was yelling at you for.
Once you learn to overlook the eccentric element to most of the scientists, you find out that they’re just like everybody else. They all appreciate being treated with kindness and respect and all love a good meal. The only person I never did develop a tolerance for was that Doctor Kavanaugh. The first time I ever laid eyes on him I wanted to grab him by that scrawny little ponytail and give it a snip with my kitchen shears. Never could tolerate long hair on a grown man, well, except maybe for Ronon. On him it somehow fits, and since he’s from another galaxy, I give him a free pass.
Kavanaugh was just a mean little SOB, and as far as I could tell, nobody could much stand him. He went down the food line with his nose in the air like he was expecting to be served gourmet grub on a silver platter. I was tempted to do something naughty to him a number of times. Thankfully, I managed to restrain my natural instincts. Now he’s gone and good riddance I say.
As the highest ranking NCO on this base, I get to handle a lot of disciplinary issues that I’d just as soon pass on to someone else. A lot of it is petty stuff that we don’t want to bother Major Lorne or the Colonel with, so I put on my big girl panties and deal with it. However, it does not improve my mood when I have to brace some Airman in the hallway and yell in his face. But I do it when it’s called for. Even those big strapping Marines have learned that I will do the same for them, even if I have to stand on a step stool to do it.
I learned how to deal with people working in my parents’ restaurant back in Alabama. If you can handle hungry families and crowds of college kids at the same time without a fist fight breaking out, you can do most anything. I always knew I wanted to run my own kitchen someday, and I loved seeing those crisp uniforms on the service men and women that came to eat with us. So it was natural that I would put the two together. After I finished my Associates degree in Hospitality Management with a side serving of Culinary Arts, I looked around for something to do with the rest of my life. I knew I wasn’t cut out to shoot at folks, but I sure could feed those who were.
Many years later and by a roundabout path, I ended up in the lost city of Atlantis, not to say that I didn’t enjoy my years at the SGC. The only thing I minded about that job was being way down there under the ground so far you sometimes wondered if that elevator was ever going to stop. Here in Atlantis, being able to walk into my dining hall and see the sky and the sea all around us is a treat indeed.
What I really like is when some of my old friends drop by for a visit. Teal’c was here a few years ago, and I made sure we had plenty of tater tots on the menu. He just looked up at me and nodded like he was the happiest man in the place. I could swear he smiled a little bit.
General O’Neill came by when we were moving back in after that unfortunate situation with the Ancients throwing us out of our own home just to tell me he was glad I was here. I told him not to worry his mind for one minute. No stuck up bunch of people who wouldn’t even have a city to come home to if it wasn’t for us were going to keep me away. He grabbed a piece of my chocolate chip cake on the way out and told me to keep up the good work. I must have stood there grinning for five minutes before I was able to get my mind back on the task at hand.
Having Colonel Carter here for a time was nice, but somehow the fact that she replaced Doctor Weir never set right with me. Granted, I think the world of the Colonel. She’s one of the nicest people you ever want to meet. But every time I went into the office and saw her sitting in Doctor Weir’s chair, I just got a tightness in my chest that didn’t want to go away. I could tell Colonel Sheppard felt the same way, though he never let it show in front of the other Colonel. He’s way too much of a gentleman and a good officer to let his personal feelings interfere with his relationship with a superior. We all made Colonel Carter welcome the best we could and didn’t hold it against her that Doctor Weir was gone, but somehow it just never felt right.
I was happy to make sure we had enough of the foods she liked best when Colonel Carter came down to eat, and sometimes I even served her myself. I noticed that she seemed to prefer dining with Colonel Sheppard’s team. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that she already knew Doctor McKay from back in the earlier days, but I never asked any questions.
That balcony off the dining hall is a really pleasant place to eat on a nice day, and I was tickled pink when I saw Major Lorne painting a picture of it. I gave him a nice compliment, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when he presented the finished product to me as a present. He waited with a big grin on his face to see what I thought, and when I took a close look, I couldn’t help but give him a big old hug around the neck. He had painted in Colonel Sheppard’s team having a meal and right there, sitting beside the Colonel and smiling, was Doctor Weir. I would have given anything to see that happen in real life, and now that we have her back, my dream has become a reality.
Now it’s time for me to get some sleep. I have to be up early because the Daedalus is due in sometime tomorrow morning. It looks like I’ve started reminiscing and can’t find a good stopping place. I think I’ll just continue to get my thoughts down so that, if I ever do leave this place, my replacement will be able to understand what he or she is getting into.