At 9:00, the kitchen bursts into a flurry of activity. Joan has been putting things away, helping us find knives and cutting boards, and setting up the 3-sink dish-washing station. Cammy has been plugging in 2 griddles, I’ve been setting out cutting boards and knives, and Kathleen and Dylan have been setting out cups and deftly saving half of the gallon of apple cider for later. There is an air of hurried anticipation and then a call of “They’re here” comes from the front of the office. We hurry to the front door to see a crowd of 16 eager faces bundled in winter coats jockeying for position. 16 kids are soon gathered around my waist, clamoring “I always get to work with Dylan. I’m working with Dylan today, right??” while a shy girl takes my hand to claim me as their group leader. We lay out the ground rules: no one touches a knife until we hand it to you. Knives don’t leave the table. Kathleen leads the first group back to the kitchen to wash their hands, and to start grating carrots and cheese. Dylan takes the next group to work on herbs the class picked last week: basil, parsley, scallions. I take the last group to chop tomatoes and peppers, Cammy shows a lucky kid how to chop the onions with the biggest knife the kids have seen, She points to the bottom “What part of the plant is this?” “the ROOOTS” “I said it first!” the pride of knowing the answer bubbles out.

I look up to see Dylan amused, watching as Onaji cuts the scallions lightly–snipsnipsnipsnipsnip!–but only enough to perforate the top layer, before going back and picking the pieces apart with his fingers. Cammy’s voice in my right ear is explaining the difference between chopping an onion and mincing it. Kathleen has moved from carrots onto grating cheese. A member from each group proudly brings bowls over to Cammy to set them up into an assembly line, and then join the rest of their group taking their cutting boards through the 3-sink dishwashing system. “Can I come back and wash dishes for you again?” Patrick asks. “Do you wash dishes for your mom at home?” “no.”

Dylan sends groups of 5 kids in at a time. I tell them to pick up a tortilla, put cheese on one half, add vegetables on top of the cheese, and take it to Cammy to cook on the griddle. As sense of chaos ensues as everyone wants to be first in line. I coach them gently on not taking too much cheese so that their quesadilla will actually close, and so that the rest of their class will have cheese left. When Danny goes through the line with only cheese on his quesadilla, I tell him the rule is that he has to try at least one vegetable. Wrinkling his nose in protest, he adds a single piece of tomato. Kathleen comes back to tell me Joseph put onions on his quesadilla, but won’t eat it because he “didn’t know they were making it for them to eat themselves”. But soon the class is sitting in a circle eating quesadillas, drinking apple cider, talking about how much they looooove tomatoes, and playing a game of telephone.

When the second class comes, Mrs. Burke tells me the first class went back to school and told their teacher that the cooking class was “the best class they’d ever had. Ever.” After 4 classes, a quick taste of our own quesadillas, and a chance to clean up the kitchen, Dylan and I head down to Langdon to meet up with 4th graders to harvest potatoes. Soon I’m at Langdon, again surrounded waist-high by excited and eager faces. We take the class on a treasure hunt digging potatoes. After 10 minutes of digging, with shrieks of exciting discoveries, Yara comes to me looking disappointed. “I haven’t found any yet”. I show her a potato plant that has died back and tell her that it marks a good spot. Armed with new detective skills, she unearths a jackpot of 7 potatoes. After they leave, Dylan carries the crate of potatoes back to the office to cook with next week. He turns to me and says “a day of school partnerships, kitchen in the morning, harvest in the afternoon…this is the greatest day ever.” I have to agree.