Completed [Job Thread] Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love 46, Winter, 514 Orin really hadn’t meant to set the kitchen on fire. Ok, on fire might be stretching it a bit, but there was a lot of smoke and a lot of yelling. And maybe Orin hadn’t been paying as much attention to the bread as he should have. And maybe it had burnt past redemption in the oven because Orin had lost track of time. And maybe there was a tiny fire going on that just might be related to the burning bread but really, that could have been anyone’s fault. As he rushed to the bucket of sand that they kept by all the ovens and fires for just this eventuality Orin reflected wildly that at least this wasn’t the worst disaster that had occurred this week. Somehow the food orders had gotten mixed up and they ended up with only buckwheat flour. Rondo had been furious and had spent the day silently fuming. At least he didn’t take his temper out on his underlings, since he’d been the one to fill out the order in the first place. There had also been that time when the spice labels got mixed up and someone added nutmeg to a dish thinking it was cinnamon. While the dish turned out to be salvageable, they definitely took a loss in terms of profit on that one. Determined not too make any more mistakes, Orin tossed the sand over the errant flames. He made sure he extinguished them all because he knew how easily fires could spread. Orin was sure that he wasn’t going to escape his Rondo’s wrath this time. Remi, who had hired him, tried to spare Orin the worst of it, but she could only do so much. Orin definitely got the impression he was a bit of a sore spot between the two chefs. Remi had hired him, and Rondo disapproved of Orin. So Orin did his best to keep his head down and out of the way of their disagreements. Rondo definitely chaged, thinking he should be in charge, but Remi wouldn’t back down even if Rondo was the better cook. And since Remi’s husband owned the Stallion, she could usually win on the large issues. To keep the peace, she had to cave on the smaller ones though. Even if he had only been baking bread from the excess buckwheat flour, this wasn’t Orin’s first major error and he had managed to disrupt nearly the entire kitchen. It should have been a simple task, Rondo muttering something about it being fine if he ruined it since they had so much anyway, as he was left to his own devices. This had removed the pressure he normally felt when assigned a task. Thinking back, perhaps that hadn’t been such a good thing after all. As he waved a bit of smoke out of his way, he gingerly eased the loaves out, what was left of them at least. Sighing, he knew his time was up and turned to receive his punishment. Rondo stood behind him, foot tapping impatiently. Orin hung his head. One easy task that practically babies could do it, and he’d failed. He’d been daydreaming again about how one day he’d be making dishes that could make people weep with one taste. He’d never get there at this rate if he couldn’t make a loaf of bread without nearly burning the whole tavern down. Rondo merely sniffed, pointed a spoon at the large cauldron where there was always a pot of soup simmering, waiting to be stirred by whatever unlucky dredge happened to be in his bad graces today, and turned back to whatever confection he was creating before Orin caused a commotion. Remi gave him a sympathetic smile, but didn’t interfere. She was probably annoyed at the disturbance as well. Orin took his blackened loaves over to the slop bucket and dumped them in. They weren’t good for anything but the pigs at this point. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if the pigs rejected them too. He sighed as he marched back to the oven, making sure that he had cleared out every last offending crumb. After that, he busied himself with cleaning up the sand he had spilled. Leaving sand out that could then end up in a dish would just be a further black mark against him. At least, that’s what he told himself to justify dragging his feet. However, eventually there was nothing left for him to do. He reluctantly took up his spot by the soup. He groaned, feeling like he was taking one step forward, two steps back. As he took up the spoon to stir it, he made a resolution: no more messing around.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love The crowds swirling around Orin bewildered him. While it wasn’t his first time visiting the Great Bazaar, Orin had a similar reaction every time he came down here. There were so many people! How could anyone make any sense of where they were or where they were going down here? He stood hesitantly, unwilling to throw himself into the bustling sea of people ahead of him. He was afraid that if he plunged in, he would be swallowed whole and never heard from again. He could easily imagine himself pressed in on all sides by people. He would be swept along like a leaf rushing down a stream. He almost turned back. Unfortunately, he had a mission and he never shirked his duties, especially since he still felt his position here was so tenuous. Rondo had decided that he absolutely must make eel pies today from his famous recipe. Orin had severe doubts as to how famous this recipe really was, but the last person to question Rondo, other than Remi that is, had received a tongue lashing that cower everyone into submission for days. So, off Orin went, after having repeated to Rondo’s satisfaction the exact items he was supposed to go buy. He held a small money pouch clutched in his hand, assaulted by the sights, scents, and sounds before him. At least he wasn’t set to the menial task of stirring soup like some complete novice. Thinking about his earlier performance, however, Orin decided he was lucky they hadn’t simply chucked him out entirely. He deserved being sent off like some errand boy. Taking, the plunge, Orin tried to move with the motion of the others milling about him. He was jostled from all sides and people constantly jabbed him slightly with their elbows and shoulders and stepped on his feet. However, he made some progress, and soon found himself in front of the stall Rondo had described. Seeing the squat stall keeper, Orin fought his way over to him. Standing uncertainly, Orin didn’t know quite how to get his attention. Finally the other man noticed him, and gestured him forward. ”C’mon boy, I don’t have all day y’know! So, what do you need?” Gulping Orin stammered out Rondo’s order. ”Please sir, can I have ten fresh eels?” Squinting at him, the other man held out a hand and said, ”That’ll be forty golden mizas.” Orin stared, shocked. His purse only held twenty and Rondo had given him explicit instructions to pay no more and no less. Orin stammered out ”B-but I don’t have that much and Rondo said specifically to—“ ”Rondo!” the stall keeper said with a grin. ”Well why didn’t you say so in the first place? I’ve got his usual order right here.” The stall keeper handed Orin a bag with a grin. Orin passed over his coins with a distinct sense of relief. Blurting out a quick thanks, Orin turned and fled before the man could change his mind about the price.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love As soon as Orin arrived back to The Rearing Stallion and handed off his eels to Rondo, he found a pile of vegetables pressed into his hands. Apparently, all was forgiven from his earlier blunder. Even so, Orin felt it was prudent to keep himself out of the watchful gaze of Rondo and Remi until Orin was totally sure they were no longer upset. So, he took his paring knife and the carrots, onions, potatoes and other assorted foodstuff and brought them to a table in the corner of the kitchen that Orin had unconsciously begun to think of as his. It kept him out of the way of the frenzy and no one else seemed to use it much. It was a little inconveniently placed, but Orin didn’t mind walking a few extra steps if it meant he wasn’t underfoot and no one would bother him. Leaving his supplies, Orin went to the sink to wash his hands. Both Remi and Rondo were fanatics went it came to cleanliness. They also made sure everything was neat and orderly in the kitchen. All the pots and pans had their places. All the spices had their shelves. And they were drilling into Orin the importance of time keeping. As evidenced by his earlier disaster, letting dishes cook for too long was not a good idea. On the other hand, undercooked food had its own set of problems. So making sure you knew how long a recipe called for an ingredient to be cooked was incredibly important in this line of work. While Orin had already known that to a degree, he hadn’t quite realized how integral it was. So after this morning, he would be especially careful to keep track of bells and chimes. Coming back to the table, Orin inspected the knife and the vegetables for dirt. Satisfied that they had both been cleaned before being handed off to him, Orin got to work. Starting with the onions, Orin began to peel the layers of skin. These were particularly stubborn onions, and Orin had to scrape multiple times with his nails to make sure he got every bit of skin off. Soon enough, his eyes started watering from the fumes. He was used to this, but it still wasn’t necessarily a pleasant experience. Eventually he managed to expose the edible portions of all the onions. He lined them up and began chopping them into smaller bits. No mater what dish they ended of going in, no one ate full onions. At least, no one that Orin knew did. When the onions were done, Orin pushed them to the side of the table to make room for the next batch of vegetables. He rinsed the knife quickly to avoid mixing flavors, then came back to his hoard. Since no one had told him what to do with the potatoes, Orin decided to start on the carrots next. He carefully chopped off the ends of the carrots, taking those bits and putting them with the onion skins. Next, he diced the carrots into small bits, assuming they would be stewed or added to a soup and not eaten whole. Rondo hated sending out raw vegetables, insisting they could always be improved.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love While Orin had been busy with his vegetables, he hadn’t noticed that the lunch rush had come in. Soon enough, he found the vegetables he had cut up whisked and he was pressed into service by the hearth. There was an entire spitted pig roasting on it. Apparently those eel pies were only for the upscale customers willing to pay for them and the common folk would get a slice of pork. In all honesty, Orin would prefer the pork. Eel was a bit too slimy for his tastes. And Orin didn’t really want to give in to Rondo’s delusions of grandeur. While the man was a fantastic chef, he was also a bit of a bully and had an inflated sense of self-worth that Orin resented. Honestly, the man seemed spoiled. In short, everything Orin disliked in a person. But he was Orin’s boss, so Orin would be polite and give into whatever inane requests he was asked. Orin took up the carving knife and began carving slices of meat off. Plates were placed near him and he made sure that each one had a piece of bread and some stewed vegetables before he put the carved meat on it. The mug of ale and bowls of soup would come from elsewhere, so at least Orin wasn’t responsible for those or for serving the food. Orin just knew that somehow he’d get blamed for sending out an incomplete plate even if it wasn’t at all his fault. So he’d avoid that as soon as possible. When the meat started looking thin, Orin reached out to turn the spit. Realizing he didn’t have anything to protect his hands, Orin quickly looked around. Spotting a pile of cloths by the fire that was clearly used just for this purpose. Orin had scars on his palms from when he was younger. He had grabbed a spit to turn it after it had been on the hearth for a while. It had hurt something awful and Orin had always made sure his hands were protected whenever he touched metal that could burn him. Wrapping his hands in the cloth, he turned the pig to expose more of its tender flesh. There was a pot underneath that was catching the juices and grease that was dripping from it. Orin knew that a dish that those leftovers were added to would be incredibly flavorful. Everything from soup to porridge could be improved by just a little bit of pork fat. Picking up his knife again, Orin resumed his earlier task. The afternoon went by in a blur of plates and meat. Before Orin knew it, the last request had been made, and Remi kindly took the knife from his hand and let him eat his own lunch. One of the few perks of this job was that Orin had free access to all the food the kitchen served. He was eating much better than he might have expected. So he dug in ravenously and soon was sopping up the remaining foods with his bread, trying to get every last crumb. He carried his plate to the pile of other dirty dishes and nodded amiably at the small boy whose job it was to wash them. When Remi saw he was done, she gestured towards the dreaded cauldron of soup bubbling on its own hearth and Orin sighed, but walked over without complaint.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Soup? What was he supposed to do with soup? Orin sighed. Actually that was the wrong question. He knew exactly what he was supposed to do with soup, which was the real problem. He came here to learn and while he understood he had to prove himself first, that didn’t make this work any more tedious. The newcomer was given the task he was least likely to ruin in the event of failure. After all, it was really quite difficult to ruin soup. Especially since his access to ingredients and spices was severely limited. Actually, he wasn’t allowed to touch the spices at all yet, which rankled quite a bit. It’s not like he was completely new to this! In fact he would bet that in terms of preparing basic dishes he was better than some of the other assistant chefs. And he was frugal and would never ever waste ingredients or spices if he didn’t know that they would improve a dish. This soup for instance, would definitely benefit from a pinch of garlic and some pepper. Or, he thought, his mouth watering, I could add rosemary and thyme. Or, even better yet, he could add cloves and ginger. Anything would be better than this bland cabbage stew. There wasn’t even any meat in it, just the stock made from beef bones. Even that was getting slightly watery. Sighing, he continued to stir it, wishing he had the courage to speak up. He would never speak up about it of course. First, it was totally against and nature. Second he was still grateful for this job and terrified of losing it for even minor infractions. So he’d just sit here, and stir the pot, daydreaming about all the dishes he would make one day when he was master of his own kitchen and working for some high ranking official. He’d never admit that to anyone though. It was a secret dream he harbored that one day people from all across the world would come to taste his dishes. He’d never have to work unless he wanted to. He’d be celebrated far and wide. Orin blushed, embarrassed. At this rate, he’d never get there. And besides, how was a common person like him ever supposed to rub noses with the rich and powerful. He’d be grateful just to continue to have a place to work where he wasn’t beaten and to do what he loved. And even if that meant years of drudgework before getting what he really wanted, well, he was patient. Glancing up at a sudden increase in noise, Orin realized that it was time for the dinner rush. Suddenly alert, he grabbed at the bowls next to him, knowing that they would be in high demand. Not like the patrons had a choice. They would get the daily special or they would get nothing. That being said, he knew that Rondo, his boss’ cooking was in high demand. Sensing a presence before him, as if his thoughts had called him, Rondo stood before him, tasting the stew. His eyebrows rose up, and glancing at Orin, turned to the spice cabinet. Then, turning back with garlic, onions, salt, and pepper, he spoke up. “What’s wrong with this dish?” Startled, Orin stared at him, his mind seemingly blank. His mouth though, and his good sense, were still working, and he heard himself saying clearly, “We completely forgot to season it. It’s much to bland, and, to be honest, the stock has been diluted too much.” Blushing wildly, he added a belated “Sir.” Rondo merely smiled at him, Leaving the spices in front of him, he turned, with a parting “Tomorrow, you make the soup.” Orin slept well that night.

[Nivel]

Orin Fenix : XP Award: Cooking 4 Observation 3 Rhetoric 2 Endurance 1 Lore: Burning the bread No more mistakes Location: The Great Bazaar Remi: knows how to deal with Rondo Rondo: He’s kind of a jerk but deep down he's a nice guy Location: The Rearing Stallion Cooking: Cutting onions, brings tears to the eyes Eel pie is for the upscale customers Cooking: How to fix a bland soup Notes: This thread made me kinda hungry, I really want to try eel pie now Additional Comments: If you have any questions or concerns please feel free to message me.