Deep-Fried Madness

So today was my day to volunteer at the Stockton Asparagus Festival. I had never been, so I was interested in seeing what it's all about. I was assigned to Asparagus Alley, which, as it turns out, is a circus-tent-like structure where deep-fried asparagus is cooked and served by what had to be over 100 people.

I left my apartment around noon, with plenty of Alley Spear-it.


I parked at San Joaquin Delta College and took the "AsparaBus" to downtown a few miles away. Parking at Delta was free for the day, and my wrist band got me on the bus for free, too.


We arrived downtown to the entrance to the festival, and I spent a few minutes wandering towards Asparagus Alley with my camera out.

I took pictures of some downtown buildings, and showed my disapproval of the NASCAR car on display (the winner of last year's race, which I attended).








Finally, I found my way to the food section. I was a little disappointed to note that Asparagus Ice Cream was not on the menu (Gilroy's Garlic Festival has Garlic Ice Cream), and intrigued by the Aspar-ritas. But I didn't think the Rotary people would appreciate me showing up to work with tequila on my breath.





When I made my way into Asparagus Alley, I found chaos. Complete chaos. No one told me (or anyone) where to go. There were over 100 people, and it was a shift change.

I waited what seemed like ages, never getting closer to the table. Finally, I found two ladies I know from Chorale, and one gave us the low-down. She had worked on Friday night, too. It still took several minutes for me to figure out (again, no one told me) where to go for an apron and hat, where to go to give someone my purse for safekeeping (and then they had only ONE marker to mark the paper bag I put it in, so I had to wait for that, too). It was maddening.

And then I got to work.

I was a "finisher," assigned to parmesan cheese.

Essentially, every table group had five people. At one end were two people dipping asparagus spears into batter. One would then put them in the fryer. A third person would man the fryer, dumping finished spears into a tray where they would drain for about 5 seconds before Finisher #1 picked them up with tongs and put them in another tray for seasoning. Finisher #1 would season them, load them into a little paper boat, and hand them off to Finisher #2 for a sprinkle of parmesan. After the labor-intensive parmesan adornment, Finisher #2 hands the boat off to a waiting runner, who takes the asparagus to a window where someone is patiently waiting for their purchase.

In other words, I'd stand there doing nothing for 2-3 minutes, then sprinkle parmesan on a boat of asparagus (six spears per boat), hand it off, and stand around for another 2-3 minutes.


I was not a happy camper.

After a few minutes, in which I blatantly leaned on the table, whistled, rolled my eyes, and took my camera out to take pictures (following this paragraph!), I was asked if I would trade with a girl who wanted to be working next to her best friend. And so, I was promoted to Finisher #1.






So things got the teensiest bit more entertaining for me, but still, I was feeling like there were five people at each table, doing the job of three. I was bored. This little high school girl got to be with her best friend, but I couldn't even see any of my chorale cronies from where I was standing.

Eventually, a sneeze came on. Eek! I quickly left my post to blow my nose and wash my hands, then donned new gloves and went back. The lady who had filled in for me did not go back to her old position, and I was, once again, stuck on Parmesan Duty.

Then, to add insult to injury, she, a fellow lowly volunteer, told me to go somewhere else--she had a handle on it!

I saw an empty spot at a table behind me, so I went over there. A few minutes later, a girl came to the table, said, "I'm back!" and I was left jobless again.

So I asked an area leader what I could do. He saw the lady who had kicked me off the table doing both Finisher duties and said, "Oh, why don't you do parmesan?"

I almost kicked him.

But I gamely went back to work, only to be told, AGAIN, "We've got a handle on it."

So back to the area leader I went. He came over and said, "Why don't you let her do the parmesan." I almost screamed, composed myself, and listened with dismay as the lowly volunteer said, "Put her somewhere else, we've got a handle on this." Mr. Area Leader, obviously not happy with being told what to do by a lowly volunteer, sniffed and said, "She'll do the parmesan."

I was reaching around to take my apron off and about 5 seconds away from marching out of there. I decided, instead, to take myself elsewhere. I found a much more competent area leader and said, "Do you need me somewhere? Anything but parmesan?" He put me on Dipping Duty.

I could not have been happier.

Now, you see, my inner five-year-old got to play with batter, dipping asparagus spears in, letting the excess drip off, and placing them in the hot oil. By this time, breaks were starting, so I didn't have a fellow dipper, making my job much busier and more entertaining.

It was also quite messy.


Finally, it was my turn for a lunch break. They announced that we'd be getting a hot dog and either chips or a piece of fruit. On Friday, according to my chorale friend, they got free deep fried asparagus, but today, we had to pay (another volunteer I worked with later thought this was tacky). I split a boat with one of my chorale buddies. It was quite good.



By 5:30, I'd had all the fun I could stand, and I needed to stop by Michael's on the way home for some yarn (we're making "Ojo de Dios" in class this week). I checked out, threw my batter-spattered apron in a box, and got the hell out of there before anyone could ask why I was leaving two hours early.

I spent a few minutes walking around the Festival, but didn't find anything that really held my interest, so I caught the AsparaBus back to Delta, ran my errand, and with great relief, arrived home by 7:00. My hair smells like grease, and I'm glad that tomorrow is a washing day.

Next year, remind me to PASS when asked if I'd like to fry asparagus for the chorale...and just to donate some money instead.