Volunteering at a 23rd-century public cafeteria.
Date: Oct 31, 2220.
Every weekday, the family goes for dinner at the local cafeteria. This is where our small community — with a bit less than 600 people — gathers most often. It is a home for people of all ages and backgrounds. For kids and teenagers, it is a great place to meet with friends outside the context of school; for young adults, it’s one of the ideal places to make new friends and form relationships (me and Ellie met here, actually!); also, for parents, grandparents and great grandparents, it is both a nostalgic environment and a way to surround themselves with loved ones. Even though it is a tightly-knit community, people come and go all the time. It’s not uncommon for people to move, and it is very popular to visit the local cafeterias when you travel. Thus, we see new faces all the time.
Although the concept of communities sharing meals together has been around for much of human history, modern cafeterias became widespread in the 2080s. They were created as a way to supplement private cooking, ensure food security across nations, and improve the efficiency of the food supply chain. For example, while the amount of food that went to waste was as high as a third of all available food in the early 2000s, thanks to the careful supply management made possible through initiatives such as this one, it is now as low as just 3%. The cafeterias have been community-run since the beginning, and have become great ways for people in every city and town on Earth to get cheap, tasty and healthy meals. Today, most of us eat at least some of our meals at our local cafeteria, and they have become a key part of our social life. Even though I like cooking at home, and visiting specialty restaurants with friends and family once in a while, the cafeteria is such a convenient place to spend time with the larger community and share my cooking skills that it’s a no-brainer to take the family there often.
My son Kepler has become quite fond of gastronomy, so he volunteers to help the staff almost every day we’re here. During the past year, his skills have improved astronomically, and he’s now able to make the most amazing dishes with ease (like father like son, of course). Today, I’m joining him in making a sautéed vegetable medley dish. I find it to be a fantastic way of spending quality time together! The days we volunteer, we usually get there around 5pm, where we start by unloading the delivery truck with the fresh food from the nearby vertical garden. It arrives exactly at 5:15pm every day, stops at the entrance, and waits patiently for us to carry out the containers of ingredients and drop off the ones we have filled with compost. Once we are done, one of us gives it the all-clear signal and it drives off to do its next delivery. I’m glad we have a lifting drone because the containers are super heavy. Actually, most of the heavy lifting around the cafeteria is done by machines; we just provide the recipes, and the soul of course.
Most kids volunteer at their local cafeteria at least once, and even though the rest of the staff does their best to minimize the blast radius, once in a while we have to swallow fast before their experiments register in our taste buds. Not everyone has a knack for cooking, but we let them try because nobody is born great at anything. The ones that have an interest for it, like my son, volunteer often for the chef and small-batch tasting roles, but everyone else is expected to help with serving and cleanup. People that grow up in those roles volunteer well into their adulthood, and it becomes a fulfilling part of their identity. In fact, the head chef at our cafeteria is Chef Nguyen, a 82 year old leader that has held the position for around fifty years. She runs a tight ship, keeping the waste levels way below the requirements, and has an amazing ability to nurture peoples cooking skills, as well as their sense of belonging and happiness. She has helped countless of us get through tough times and is always looking out for everyone in our community. Just now she comes into the kitchen to check on the vegetable medley.
“It’s gotta have less salt, Joe! You gotta teach him Kepler,” she says as she savors a sample, “but not bad, your gonna make the people happy!”
We all chuckle, and then she asks, “How are Ellie and Ginny?” so I tell her they are helping lead the math tutoring session tonight, and she seems very content. “They’re so smart, the two of them,” she says, with a sense of wonder we all have for the people who make and maintain the machines that keep our world running. “I’m so proud of Ginny,” I say with a fatherly smile, “she just started high school on the engineering stream, and she’s already doing so well!” Chef Nguyen smiles and nods softly, and then says “all that thinking must make ’em hungry, I’ll bring them some snacks”, and walks away slowly.
Kepler points at the display and circles around the salt values with his finger. I smile and nod approvingly, and he dials down the value by sliding on the screen. Since we are happy with the flavors, and have gotten Chef Nguyen’s approval, we decide to go with the configuration. Kepler looks at me excitedly, so I say “go for it!” He grins, and presses on the “Start” button, which kicks off the process of cooking the recipe in large batches. We hear the motors start moving, first transporting the ingredients selected from the storage to the stage, and then beginning the preparation. We interrupt the process once in a while to check on the progress. While this is going on, I bring out a cutting board and a manual pan, and we start playing around with slight variations of the recipe. I let my son take the lead, and he starts adding a bit of fresh garlic and gives me a bite. “That’s amazing! The flavor really complements the vegetables, we should try that out next time!” and he agrees enthusiastically. We’re full even before the first batch is ready to be served, so we sit back and watch the 3D water-jet cutters slice the different ingredients on one end, and the robot chef cook them on the other. Finally, when the first batch begins to come out from the machine, we make our final taste test, and then direct the trays to the serving area.
We walk through the main entrance of the kitchen and into the dining hall. People have begun to line up at the buffet area, awaiting dinner eagerly. When they see us, they all turn to look in anticipation. “It smells amazing Kepler!” somebody says at the front. “Can’t wait to try it,” someone else says. As customary, we stand behind the counter and greet people as they come to the front of the line. It’s partly a symbolic thing, but also people sometimes have nutrition questions that we help to answer. As people arrive, they tap their hand against the personal identifier reader, and a pleasing beep sounds when their identity is verified. The cafeteria operates on a membership basis, where people usually pay by month and get access to unlimited food (although there is a strong emphasis on sensible portions). However, it is also possible to get single meals, which is more common for travelers.
As the line for the first batch begins to die down, I let Kepler continue supervising while I go for a walk to make sure things are going well in the dining hall. I’m heading over to the multi-purpose rooms, where the math tutoring session should be wrapping up, but every few steps I run into people and end up striking up conversations. Down the end of the west wing of the hall, I spot a very nicely-dressed woman sitting by herself, seemingly staring blankly at the table and gliding her fingers across it slowly. She is probably looking at some document through a virtual screen that only she can see. As I get closer I finally recognize her, she is Marimba Rashidi, the founder and CEO of a very successful entertainment company. I had always wanted to get to know her better, so I decide to approach her.
“Ms. Rashidi! How are you doing? I hope you will enjoy the dish I made with my son today!” I say as I arrive at her table.
“Oh Mr. Bennet! I most certainly will. I was just reviewing the latest prototype for our new full-immersion experience. Things are going very well!” she says with a friendly smile, “please sit!” she says gesturing to the seat in front of her. “My wife and daughter should be here with the food any time,” she says.
“A full-immersion experience sounds super interesting,” I say, “I actually have never tried one before.” She looks at me in disbelief and says, “well you should swing by the office sometime and I will gladly set up a demo for you!”
She reaches for her bag and pulls out a wine glass. Gesturing to the opened wine bottle, she says “would you like some?” I accept and thank her, and she pours the red wine into the glass. My curiosity is killing me, so I just blurt out “If you don’t mind me asking, what is the life of a CEO like?”
She smiles and puts her glass down, and then finally says “busy, very busy.” After some thought, she continues, “as a business owner yourself, you would understand just how much time and care it takes to be an entrepreneur. But I love it! It is so exciting to go into work every day and see what the artists and engineers have come up with. Also, seeing the product of our work awe an entire generation is plenty reward enough!”
“I know what you mean,” I say. “There’s nothing like seeing the fruits of your work materialize in your customer’s joy.” I pause, and then get the courage to say, “but you must be making a lot of money in the process, right?”
She nods at first, but then disapproves, “well…I’ve reached the income cap, so it’s really not about the money anymore. At least not for myself, because all of our senior artists get a revenue share and it still does matter how much we can give them. Also, I guess that even though the surplus I earn is not mine to spend, I still get a say on how it is allocated in society, and it is very fulfilling to see it have a significant positive impact.”
“That makes a lot of sense. It is great that you not only are able to provide people with immersive fun, but also have your success benefit those around you!” I say.
“Cheers to that!” she replies and we clink glasses.
“So that’s where you’ve been dad!” my daughter Ginny yells from a distance. She runs over excitedly and Ellie follows behind her. “I was able to explain the linear matrix problem to the group dad!” she boasts as we hug. “She did very well, flawless explanation” Ellie says proudly, and then says “Hello Ms. Rashidi!” and taps Ginny’s shoulder so she also says “Hi Ms. Rashidi!”
“I should head back to check on Kepler, it was a pleasure talking to you Ms. Rashidi! I’m looking forward to trying your full-immersion experience” I say as we wave goodbye.
The three of us head over to the front of the dining hall, where Kepler is helping clean up the buffet area. Once he’s done, we head together to our family table, where my mom is chatting with Ellie’s parents, and Ellie’s brother is playing a card game with his two sons and wife. Two trays with dinner await Ellie and Ginny, so they sit down and dig in without a word. A couple from the neighboring table has brought a Japanese crepe cake to share, so me and Kepler get a slice for dessert.
Life is good.
/ Joe
~ optimistic futuristic ~
Photo credit: header photo of the buffet [from needpix].
