Completed [Job Thread] Big Bad Wolf Meat

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love 80, Winter, 514 Orin stared at the snarling face in front of him. It looked rather odd. It was a wolf, with teeth still attached but skin removed. Because of the recent bout of wolf attacks, someone had what they thought was a great idea. They decided that cooking wolf meat would help solve the usual meat shortage that resulted in winter. Since The Rearing Stallion apparently had a reputation among Sylirans as having the best cooks in the business, Remi and Rondo had graciously accepted the challenge. However, as soon as the carcass had arrived in the kitchen, they had quickly fell into an argument as to who would actually deal with it. Neither of them wanted to admit they didn’t have any idea how to cook it. So, in what they tried to pass off in a gracious way, the task had fallen to Orin. Orin bet they were expecting him to fail. When that happened, they would be able to go to the butchers and hunters and tell them not to bring any more with a clean conscience. Orin was determined to prove them wrong. As he looked surveyed the wolf in front of him, he began thinking about the best way to use each and every part of the animal before him. First, Orin grabbed a knife. Testing the blade, Orin found that it was a bit dull. He grabbed the grindstone and sharpened it until its edge satisfied him. Next, he grabbed an empty and clean bucket. Grabbing the hindquarters of the wolf, Orin tugged at it until the head hung off the table and it angled downward. He placed the bowl under the head, and then with a quick motion, sliced the neck of the wolf. Blood came pouring out. As Orin had expected, the hunter hadn’t bled the catch before bringing it in. Smiling, Orin watched the bucket slowly fill up. He could use the blood in the organ soup he was planning on making. To do that, he needed the organs however. The guts had already been removed so Orin couldn’t make sausages, not that he wanted to. There were plenty of other parts he could use though. Moving to the ribcage, Orin sliced it open. Inserting his hands, he rummaged around until he felt what he hoped was the wolf’s heart. Pulling at it, Orin cut it out. His hands and arms up to his elbows were slick with blood, as was the knife. Going back to his incision, Orin went back to work. Soon he had a pile that included the heart, the lungs and the liver. At this point the blood had mostly drained out. Orin went to the sink. Scrubbing vigorously he soon had cleaned both himself and his knife to his satisfaction. He went back with his knife to slice up the organs as thinly as possible, the tough meat no match for his blade. Next, he moved to the pot of boiling water he had set up earlier. Taking sliced onions, potatoes, and carrots he tossed it in there. Moving on, he picked up his bucket of blood. Walking carefully so he didn’t drip blood on the floor or worse, trip and fall, he poured it into the water watching the swirls of crimson it created with satisfaction. Next, he took the organs and threw them all in there. He threw some salt, basil, and rosemary. Finally, he put a lid on the pot and moved it up so it would go to a simmer instead of a full boil. Hopefully, the water would loosen up the organs. Waiting with his eyes carefully on the sun, Orin judged that he would taste it in a chime. After the right amount of time had passed, Orin took the lid off and grabbed a spoon. Tasting it, Orin smiled triumphantly. While it wasn’t his personal favorite, it was definitely edible and he could tweak the flavors with the spices. Moving the pot to a slightly banked fire so it would stay warm but not keep cooking, Orin moved on to the next project.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Washing his hands once again, Orin ran his hands through his hair once they were clean, leaving it slightly damp and definitely sticking up. The organ soup had been inspired, but mostly it had been because Orin knew how to prepare a similar dish. So, maybe he should continue in that vein. Surveying the now eviscerated corpse in front of him, Orin pondered what to do next. It was too large to spit and the legs were too big to make into drumsticks. Currently at a loss, Orin decided to at least make the animal into a more manageable package. Orin decided that perhaps removing the skull would be a good next step. Grabbing a bone saw on the way back to his table in the back he steeled himself for the rather unpleasant task. Pulling the head back onto the table, Orin made sure it was flat, adjusting it until he had a good angle to cut. He placed the saw where he felt the neck and the skull met, the smooth skin taut. Then, he went to work. The resistance to the saw’s teeth was a strange vibration that travelled through Orin’s hands all the way up to his shoulders. However, with a thunk, Orin cut fully through the spine. Taking the now loose head, Orin placed it at the other end of the table. Picking up the saw again, Orin carefully made a circular hole. He didn’t want to saw to pierce the brain, since Orin had decided that the brain would be his next dish. Pushing carefully, he removed the now loose piece of bone. He put his hands in the resulting hole and, grasping it in both hands, pulled out the wolf’s brain. Moving to yet another pot of boiling water, Orin dumped the brain in. Again having to wash his hands, Orin waited for another chime to pass before carefully draining the boiling water into the sink, cautious of the cloud of steam that shot up towards his face. Once he judged the brain safe to pick up, he took it out and put it back on the table. Taking his knife up again, Orin cut the brain into small cubes that he tried to make all about the same size. Moving to the cupboard with ingredients, he pulled out four eggs. Cracking the eggs into a bowl, he whisked them together then put his prepared cubes in. Taking out a pan, he threw the mixture on it and placed it on a stove. He poked at the eggs until they were solid and just starting to brown. Picking the pan up, he slid the resulting dish onto a plate. He sprinkled it with salt and pepper. As a nice final touch, he added a basil leaf as a garnish. Taking a fork, Orin carefully picked up a portion that had both eggs and brain it. Putting it in his mouth, Orin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. It was surprisingly tasty. Orin put it next to his pot of soup, ready to be judged.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Two potential dishes out of the way, Orin decided he deserved a break. Grabbing a bowl, he walked to the ever-present cauldron of soup. Thankfully, the lunch rush had come and gone. Orin had been excused from his regular duties because of the side project and he didn’t really mind. While he loved cooking, Orin didn’t find much enjoyment in the frantic rush to serve the customers outside. Their kitchen was sorely understaffed. While Remi and Rondo were excellent chefs, they didn’t get along at all, and Rondo refused to do something he felt was beneath his dignity, such as plating food. So the brunt of it usually fell to Orin. Sliding onto the bench by the table set aside for the cooks and the rest of the staff to eat at, Orin took a tentative sip of the soup. Thankfully, there was meat in it today, and not wolf meat either. No it was good old chicken and vegetables. All last week it had been just vegetables and while Orin didn’t mind a good vegetable soup, it did tend to get boring rather quickly. Finishing his bowl, Orin mopped up the last of the broth with a piece of bread swiped from the loaf set on the table. If Remi had bee watching, she’d probably have urged him to take another piece or eat another bowl. But she was busy and Orin didn’t want Rondo to accuse him of shirking again, so he brought his bowl to the dirty dishes and went back to his corner. Walking around the wolf, Orin found himself out of clever ideas. So, he’d go back to basics and what he knew. Moving to the knives, Orin picked up the largest one he could see. If anyone had seen it they would have realized how dangerous it could be in the hands of one who knew what they were doing. Orin, however, never even considered its martial applications. Turning the headless wolf onto its right side, Orin moved the end of the table. Taking up its back left leg, Orin sliced a piece of meat off from the bone. As always, he angled the knife away from his unprotected fingers. Taking the thick steak in his hand, he put it aside, before moving to cut off another, from slightly above it. This he carefully made thinner than the other. Having never cooked wolf meat before, Orin would have to experiment with different thicknesses before he could know how long to cook it properly. Soon, the leg was stripped of meat and Orin chopped off the bone. He could use it to make stock later. Orin moved on to the other back leg, again cutting off various sized pieces. Soon, he had a pile of uncooked wolf steaks. Putting the knife down, Orin massaged his slightly stiff fingers, grimacing at the pain. He’d been gripping the knife too tightly, and he made a note to be more careful next time. However, he was ready to move on.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Taking his cutlets to the main stove in the center of the kitchen, Orin unceremoniously dumped them on the table next to it. The stove was large enough to accommodate two cooks working side by side and three to four dishes depending on the size of the pots or pans being used. While there were two open fireplaces and an oven around the back, it still sometimes felt that there weren’t enough places to cook sometimes, especially when the kitchen got busy. And, like all places in Syliras, space was limited. So pots and pans hung from the ceiling, as did bunches of dried herbs. Since tables for food preparation, the stove, and the fires dominated the majority of the room, pantries and shelves were typically set above or below them. Some of them were so high up that even Orin needed to stand on a stool to reach. In short, every available part of the kitchen was used effectively. Kind of like how Orin was trying to use every part of the wolf right now. Reaching above him, Orin snagged one of the largest frying pans they had. It was cast iron and heavy, so Orin handled it carefully. Going to the pantry, Orin took out their jar of stored grease over. He poured a generous portion onto the pan, and did his best to spread it out evenly. Rondo would probably gripe about the waste but in assigning him this task, Remi and Rondo had unwittingly given him access to everything the kitchen had to offer. And Orin wasn’t going to take advantage of this rare opportunity. Replacing the jar, Orin continued on to the spice racks. Taking up the salt and pepper, he put what for him was an unusually generous portion on each of the steaks. He flipped them over to make sure he got both sides. Even if the meat itself was tasteless, he could mask it. Returning those two to their shelves, Orin picked up some dried parsley, sage, rosemary, and for good measure, thyme. He sprinkled them liberally on the meat. While all these preparations might have been overkill, Orin didn’t want to take any chances on this. And while he probably shouldn’t be wasting precious materials on this, he was still annoyed at the two head chefs and this was as rebellious as he could get. Returning everything where he had taken it from, he checked the stove’s fire. It was burning low, so Orin went outside to the log pile, the cold air hitting him like a physical blow. It was such a contrast to the warmth of the kitchen that Orin was almost dazed for a second. Picking up a few pieces of wood, Orin quickly retreated, closing the door firmly against the chill. Placing the logs on the fire, Orin poked at it until they caught, they firmly closed the stove’s door, confident that he’d done everything he could to make these steaks cook properly.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin Fenix Food Equals Love Orin wrestled the enormous pan onto the stove. He waited patiently for the heat to trickle up and the grease to come to the right temperature. Picking up the first of the steaks, Orin threw it on the pan, nudging it carefully with a knife to make room for the rest. It sizzled and a piece of grease popped out. Orin moved his hand out of the way of the probably boiling hot globule. He moved the pan to a place where flying grease wouldn’t be able to reach him as easily and began placing the rest of the steaks in. Soon the wonderful smell of roasting meat drifted through the kitchen and Orin grinned. In his opinion, that scent was one of the best in the world. He could remember from his adolescence coming home and immediately knowing that something good was cooking. Of course, since by that point Orin was living on the charity of others, he would never get the choicest bits. Those went to the members of the family he was living with at the time, and Orin was lucky when he got more than slim pickings and leftovers. And when his father was alive, he’d always bought them food from the communal kitchen in the Outpost. Orin’s mother had been the cook in the family. Orin could never figure out whether Orin’s father actually couldn’t make food or if being in the place he associated with the woman he loved simply hurt too much. His mother was too sore a topic for Orin to simply have asked. The few times Orin had questioned his father about his mother had sent his father into a roaring rage or a spiraling depression, both of which Orin quickly learned to avoid. Coming back to the present, Orin carefully used a knife to look at the underside of one of the steaks. Pleased to see it was a pleasant shade of brown, Orin flipped it over carefully. He repeated this process with the rest of his steaks, pleased to see them all cooking nicely. After again waiting what he hoped was a suitable amount of time Orin took the pan off the fire, but left the steaks in there. Putting the pan where it wouldn’t scorch the wood, Orin picked up one of the steaks and put it on a plate. Taking a knife and a fork, he cut out a square from the center. Pink juice oozed out. The center was just slightly pink, fading into the brown of the outside. Pleased with the result, Orin placed the square in his mouth. It had a nice, slightly gamey flavor. Chewing it was tough, but it certainly wasn’t the toughest meat Orin had ever had to deal with. Orin felt like dancing for joy. Taking another bite to chew, he placed the rest of his steaks on a platter and put it with the rest of his food. Remi and Rondo would be shocked that he’d managed to make something at all, let alone multiple dishes and Orin felt gleeful that for once he would have showed them up. Not that he was the type of person who normally took pleasure from things like that, but Orin had been feeling underappreciated. Perhaps now they would give him actual responsibility instead of menial chores. Finishing up the steak he had started to eat, Orin couldn’t seem to stop grinning.

[Nivel]

Orin Fenix : XP Award: Observation 3 Cooking 4 Cleaning 2 Lore: Cooking: wolf meat Cooking: Wolf blood soup Removing the brain of a wolf Wolf brain tastes pretty good. Cooking: Don’t grip your knife so hard With the smell of wolf meat, comes memories of family Notes: This was a pretty awesome thread, You should see if you could cook some Glass beak next time. Additional Comments: If you have any questions or concerns please feel free to message me.