Be not afraid of growing slowly, but of standing still
FEBRUARY 17, 2020, EARLY EVENING
With more people getting sick in Wuhan, now the Phoenix Group delivers double the number of meals. The kitchen is getting busier every day, but instead of cooking with Chef Ma, I still have to supervise Yi and Jing. I have been racking my brain for what more I can do to help them work better in the kitchen. Until, one day, in the middle of playing Chop Chop, a notification pops up:
Updated Tutorial Available!
That’s it! I open a blank document on my computer. Like a running faucet, everything I have learned about cooking flows onto the screen.
KITCHEN MANUAL
How to Dress in a Kitchen
* Dress in well-fitting clothes. Loose sleeves can knock over bottles.
* Keep hair away from your face. No one wants to eat your hair.
* Keep jewelry at home. It can get tangled in food or pot handles.
* Wear comfortable, slip-resistant shoes.
Wash Your Hands
* Before cooking
* After touching your face or hair
* After using bathroom
* After touching phone
* After touching uncooked meat or seafood
* After coughing, sneezing, or blowing your nose
A commotion comes from the courtyard. I ignore it.
Dos and Don’ts in the Kitchen
* Do separate raw food from cooked food to prevent cross-contamination.
* Do wash muddy vegetables before peeling.
* Do keep pot handles turned in so no one will bump and knock a pot over.
* Do keep the kitchen floor dry so no one will slip and fall.
* Don’t put cooked food on an unwashed plate or cutting board that held raw food.
* Don’t add water to a pan with hot oil. The oil will splatter.
* Don’t use a knife until you learn how to safely handle it.
* Don’t set a knife on hard surfaces. It will ruin the blade.
* Don’t put knives in soapy water.
How to Wash Vegetables and Fruit
* For firm-skinned fruits and vegetables, like potatoes, carrots, turnips, apples, and pears, clean with brush under running cool water before removing the outer layer.
* For leafy vegetables like cabbage, spinach, lettuce, bok choy, and leeks, submerge in cool water, swish, drain, and then rinse under running water.
* For delicate produce like mushrooms, bean sprouts, and berries, gently rinse them under a thin stream of running water.
I print out two copies and put them in my backpack. Outside, a woman begins crying. A heavy car door slams shut, accompanied by the sounds of windows screeching open and people chatting.
“Mother, Mother . . .” A heart-wrenching wail pierces the air.
I scurry to the balcony. What I see makes all my other thoughts evaporate. Red Sweater Girl is running after a white van with red block letters on the side—WUHAN NO. 4 FUNERAL PARLOR.
The van speeds out of the gate. The odor of gasoline hangs heavy in the air, overwhelming the smell of burning coal. How could this happen? I saw her mother just a few days ago. A chill slithers down my back.
“Mother, Mother . . .” The girl stumbles toward Building Six, wiping tears with the back of her hand. Like a ghost, she disappears into the dark entrance.
All is quiet. A bright moon illuminates the cloudy sky. A bird is perched on a bare branch. It looks at me and makes a mournful sound. When Father broke the news of Mother’s death, we clenched each other for support. Where is her father? Is she alone? Should I go comfort her?
Suddenly, an ambulance races into the courtyard and stops in front of Building Six. Two men in white hazmat suits jump out of the van and unload an armful of wooden planks.
One man holds up a long board across the entrance of the building while the other nails the plank in place. My heart twitches with each thump of the hammer. What are they doing? Are they sealing everyone inside? My shirt dampens with sweat.
Soon the residents in Building Six realize what’s happening. Some yell from their windows while others rush to their balconies and cry out.
“I haven’t seen Mrs. Hao for days! I am not sick.”
“Please, my father needs a COVID test kit and medicine!”
“We don’t want to die here.”
My sight blurs and my throat tightens. I stumble inside, feeling light-headed, as though the floor is swaying beneath my feet. With shaking hands, I call Aunty, but she doesn’t answer.
Knock, knock, knock!
Someone is at the door.