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If you want to keep up with Barbara "Bobbie" Montgomery, cafeteria manager for McHarg Elementary School, you'll need a working alarm clock, a ready wit and flexibility.

Each weekday morning, Montgomery reports to work at 6 and prepares to feed more than 300 children. She keeps her sense of humor through it all, taking as much good-natured banter from her crew of four as she gives. And she works every station of the kitchen - five in all - to ensure that everything is running as efficiently as possible.

Having spent 15 years at McHarg with six in the manager's chair, Montgomery knows the school lunch business soup to nuts. She didn't flinch when I asked for a spot on her team for a day. I wanted an up-close look at the workings of a cafeteria in light of National School Lunch Week that runs from Oct. 11 to Oct. 15.

While Montgomery didn't know me from Betty Crocker, she managed to make me a contributing player for a short time last Monday morning. This fact alone speaks volumes of her know-how.

Mondays are the roughest days of the week. Tickets are sold. The supply truck arrives, usually at the peak of lunch service. Montgomery's staff operates in a lively blend of organized chaos. The group is made up of several veterans and one relative rookie.

Assistant Manager Viola "Dot" Ellis is in her 10th year. Edna Ford has been with Montgomery for five years. Dolly Owens is in her second year at this school but has worked at various cafeterias. Sarah Garvin transferred to McHarg from the Radford High School cafeteria this year. They joke with one another like lifelong friends.

I quickly learned that Montgomery took my offer of participation to heart. She set me to work "dipping fruit," which involved placing half-cup portions of pineapple chunks into small plastic containers, putting lids on them and then hauling trays to the refrigerators until lunch time.

Next, I moved on to "spoodle" detail, (a spoodle is a slotted ladle) garnishing pears with maraschino cherries.

Meanwhile, Garvin and Owens prepared trays of chicken nuggets, waffle fries and biscuits for lunch. Montgomery collected e-mailed forms from the teachers, identifying the number of hot lunches and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches that would be needed. Ellis and Ford took off to sell tickets.

There was time for some conversation while the oven did the work. They showed me Montgomery's ugly sister who reports to duty one day a year - on Halloween. I wondered aloud if the mask scares some of their youngest diners. They assured me they haven't lost a customer yet - except during the occasional classroom kitchen tour. Or at least that's what Montgomery claimed when students ask what they cook in the enormous cauldron.

"I tell them, 'second graders,'" she said, chuckling.

The workers emphasize teamwork as much as fun.

"Everyone helps everyone," Montgomery pointed out.

The moment of truth arrived as the first lunch customers filed in at 11 a.m.

The two-hour performance that followed was artful. Classes arrived in five-minute increments. Hot trays swooped into place. Empties disappeared. Clean trays and silverware emerged from the dish room. I helped where I could, replenishing silverware at the serving line and shuttling washed items back for use. I carefully straightened my fruit cups, hoping to entice through good presentation.

Working the register, Montgomery greeted most children by name. She knew particular circumstances of some. "Tell your grandma that you need more lunch money," she reminded one student.

The levity and ribbing returned with the disappearance of the last class into the lunchroom. But the work was not done until 1:15 p.m. when the last tray had been washed and the entire place wiped down.

Montgomery keeps an exceptionally clean kitchen. She was delighted to hear it was among the best during a recent visit by the state inspector.

If there's a downside to the job for Montgomery, it's the paperwork. She showed me two of her daily required forms. They include 34 columns of information and almost as many rows. She logs type of food, portions served, type of portions served, source of food or recipe, how students pay and other statistics required to maintain state funding.

"Cooking the food is the easy part," Montgomery said wryly.

It was a privilege to spend a day with Montgomery and her staff. Maybe next time I'll graduate to the serving line.

Pineapple, anyone?

Catherine Copich Van Noy lives in Radford. Her column appears biweekly.