Serving with RSS SALH late 90s, working summer at Dundurn. I used to go home most weekends but over the August long weekend I volunteered to be the duty officer for the weekend to allow the other folks who live further away to have a long weekend at home. I was the only officer on the camp and eating in the officers' mess. When I went in for breakfast on the Saturday there was only one kitchen staff on duty, a young First Nations lady (we had contracted out the food services to a company that normally serviced oil camps). She served me my breakfast and said since I was the only one eating in the mess, would I like something special for supper that night? Sure, says I. She said bring a bottle of white wine at lunch then. So I did, but wasn't sure what would be the result of giving this young lady a bottle of of wine (I won't discuss my prejudices of the day). Come supper time I ambled into the dining room. The lights were off and there was one set table, complete with candle and flowers. The table had been set with a very nice gingham tablecloth. I sat down and noticed my bottle of wine, half empty, sitting on the table. Well, this should be interesting, thinks I. Shortly the young lady brings out a beautiful meal, some chicken concoction, very tasty indeed. She came over a bit later and asked me how I was enjoying my meal. Delicious, I said, but not oil camp standards. She chuckled and said "I only work the oil camps to make money for my studies. During the rest of the year I am attending the Cordon Bleu Academy in Paris studying to be a red seal chef. I needed the practice of cooking something special for a change." Wow. So much for my prejudices. Lesson learned. Don't judge a book by its cover.
