Unsung heroes.

Last week consumed me, and it was intentional. I am not sure where to start, other than the beginning, which occurred roughly two weeks ago -- almost three -- when a friend asked if I'd be interested in making a few lunches for some volunteers as part of New York Cares Day, one of several annual city-wide days of action in which unsung heroes help rebuild New York communities. Earlier that day he'd visited the school he was assigned to manage and was discouraged -- but not surprised -- to discover little in terms of lunch options. There was a McDonald's and a Taco Bell nearby, and I think he mentioned a fried chicken joint. Wouldn't it be nice, he reasoned, to provide people with healthy, nourishing lunches? And wouldn't it be fun to write about? Without thinking, I agreed. Had I thought it through for a minute -- even a second -- I would have realized how much work I was committing myself to. I would've recalled a commitment I had on the day of the event, not to mention a potential date the night before. And really, do I need more subjects about which to write? Well, that's neither here nor there...

I am not a chef, nor have I ever claimed to be. But having worked in my fair share of restaurants, I wasn't going into this thing blind. First, I wrote a menu: brown bag lunches gone gourmet. I'd make turkey sandwiches on Sfoglia bread with meat and cheese from Urban Rustic, and my salt and vinegar potato salad. I'd buy apples from the green market, and bake cookies (this is -- by far -- the funniest part, because I hate following directions, which makes for horrible baked goods; I literally googled "Orangette easy cookies" to find this recipe, and it still proved taxing). I needed a vegetarian option, so I dreamed up little containers of homemade hummus and tabbouleh-style quinoa, along with the aforementioned apples and baked goods. I envisioned my lunches to be a grown-up twist on a childhood favorite. They would be delicious and healthy and sourced locally. Best of all, they would be affordable, costing $7 per person. It sounded so good and easy, until I realized how little could be done in advance. Fresh equals good, which meant the food needed to be prepared within 48 hours of the event. There was no way I could do that by myself. That's when my heroes stepped in.

There was Chris, who helped carry 50 pounds (maybe more) of produce home from the Union Square green market. On Thursday, while he and our friend Alex shopped for paper goods, I made 25 pounds of potato salad, and there was a moment when, squatting over two stock pots, mixing the stuff with gloved hands, I thought I'd break down then and there. When I confessed this to my coworker Jon later that night, he offered to help the next day, his day off. And he did; he chopped and listened and stuck around after I scolded him for being messy. With his help, I baked roughly 120 cookies, and packaged 51 containers of potato salad, and 12 containers each of hummus and tabbouleh. Later that night, my brother delivered fresh-baked bread, and Chris returned to help with the sandwiches, which we layered with olive oil, red onion and watercress. After they were wrapped, I sent Chris to bed, and I packaged the brown bags and grouped them accordingly. This ended up taking the most time, because I needed to be careful not to break the cookies and I wanted them to be beautiful. And they were. Almost too pretty to eat, and just like the ones my dad packed me as a kid, full of goodness and love and even a little hope. Another friend, Seth, helped transport them, and Chris reported them a success. I got word as my roommate Michael was reviving me with coffee and washing the dishes I dirtied.

Unsung heroes New York over, I could not have done it without you. And believe me, I'll never do it again.