Log: Sweet Rolls with Sybil
Who: P'draig, Sybil
When: Just before dinner
Where: Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy and Sybil talk cooking.
Fort Weyr Living Cavern(#199RJa$)
Approaching half the size of the Hatching Grounds, this cavern echoes with voices during the day, and the soft patter of feet during the night. Dozens of tables are spaced throughout, each with open space around to provide small amounts of privacy for the discussions carried on at each. The night hearth, with a cluster of pots of stew and klah, is situated near the large entrance to the tunnel. Several other hearths are spaced around the huge chamber, lending light and some heat to the room. The far wall is lined with tables that always hold something edible to feed the throngs of people who come into this immense room in search of a meal, a snack, or something to drink. As with most Weyrs, the Living Cavern is the busiest place with the most activity. It is here that Fortians and visitors alike migrate in an effort to find information, share gossip, and just plain socialize.
Broad marble steps to the southwest lead up to the impressive Fort Weyr kitchen. An almost constant stream of activity centers around this staircase: people coming and going with loads of goods for the stores, fresh food, dirty or clean dishes and utensils, and plenty of folks just going in to do their duty for the day or night. The aromas wafting down the stairs are indicators of which meal is being prepared or served at the moment. The view into the kitchens is clear from the Living Cavern, everything gleaming and clean, and the muffled but bustling noises coming from within just add to the air of comfort, family, and hard work done at Fort Weyr.
To the east, a short flight of stairs leads to the hallway to the inner caverns. A stout door to the north has a healer's emblem on it, marking the Infirmary. To the south is a wide tunnel, leading out of the Weyr, and a wide opening to the west leads to the Weyr bowl.
Sybil bustles out of the kitchen, carrying a tray full of sweetrolls over to the far wall of the cavern. From the smell, it's mostly dried berries in this batch, as the cooks make do with the supplies available. She sets the heavy tray down with an audible thump, sliding it into an open space, before grabbing one of the rolls for herself and settling down for a break at one of the tables.
Sitting at that very same table, is P'draig, looking through some formationg charts and sipping at a mug of klah. He looks up at Sybil's arrival and smiles over. "Hey there."
Sybil smiles warmly at P'draig, and finishes up her sweetroll. "G'afternoon P'draig..." she says, picking at the table with her thumbnail. "How're things going?"
"Pretty well thanks ... and you?" P'draig shifts the hide in front of him a little forward and away. "Fresh out of the oven?" He nods towards the sweet roll the kitchen assistant's got.
"Yep...only about ten minutes old..." Sybil says, grinning. "Not that I actually got to make them, but when you prep all the ingredients..." she smiles shyly. "It's almost the same thing."
"Heh, well that's most of the work right there," the former Baker grins and tilts a look over at where she dumped the rolls off. "But if they're that fresh, excuse me for a second while I grab one before they're all gone." So saying P'draig rises and goes after one of the treats, returning quickly and dropping back into his seat.
P'draig breaks his roll into two and takes a few bites, nodding. "Good." He lifts the unnibbled half up in a sort of toast to the kitchen assistant. "Seems like everything's going smoothly in the kitchens then. Was in there this morning stealing some stove space."
Sybil looks interested. "You like to cook, then?" she asks, somewhat wonderingly. "Where do you find the time, being a dragonrider and all?"
"Used to be a Baker, so I'd say so. Yep. I like to get back into the kitchen at least once a week if I can." P'draig nibbles on more roll. "Don't have as much time for it as I'd like, have to squeeze it in here and there."
"It must be tough to juggle responsibilities like that.." Sybil says, nodding thoughtfully. "Speaking of, do you think they'll be searching soon?" she asks wistfully, having finally worked up the courage to ask.'
T'rien drifts in from the bowl and the cold, chill evening. He pulls off his gloves and blows on his hands as he makes his way inside, straight for the hearths and their promise of warmth. Unbuckling his riding jacket and stripping off the other accoutrements of winter, he all but steps into the fire itself, sighing in relief as the heat of the flames melts the ice from his bones.
"Well it's not a responsibility for me. More like ... fun. A hobby." P'draig grins over at the assistant, then shrugs. "There's eggs on the Sands. Searchriders will be going out soon."
Sybil smiles. "So I've heard." and sighs. "I guess I should be getting back to the kitchens; there's always more food to prepare, especially since it's getting close to the evening meal." She shakes her head, and grins again. "I'll talk to you later, P'draig..."
T'rien turns, offering his backside to the fire. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and pronounces, "I hate winter," to anyone who wants to hear it.
"Good luck with finishing up tonight." Again Paddy lifts a partially eaten bit of roll. "And keep at the roll-making. Might maybe make a Baker someday." He winks after the assistant then forgoes further speech due to his mouth being busy with eating the rest of the roll.
Sybil mounts the steps that lead to the kitchen.
When: Just before dinner
Where: Living Cavern, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy and Sybil talk cooking.
Fort Weyr Living Cavern(#199RJa$)
Approaching half the size of the Hatching Grounds, this cavern echoes with voices during the day, and the soft patter of feet during the night. Dozens of tables are spaced throughout, each with open space around to provide small amounts of privacy for the discussions carried on at each. The night hearth, with a cluster of pots of stew and klah, is situated near the large entrance to the tunnel. Several other hearths are spaced around the huge chamber, lending light and some heat to the room. The far wall is lined with tables that always hold something edible to feed the throngs of people who come into this immense room in search of a meal, a snack, or something to drink. As with most Weyrs, the Living Cavern is the busiest place with the most activity. It is here that Fortians and visitors alike migrate in an effort to find information, share gossip, and just plain socialize.
Broad marble steps to the southwest lead up to the impressive Fort Weyr kitchen. An almost constant stream of activity centers around this staircase: people coming and going with loads of goods for the stores, fresh food, dirty or clean dishes and utensils, and plenty of folks just going in to do their duty for the day or night. The aromas wafting down the stairs are indicators of which meal is being prepared or served at the moment. The view into the kitchens is clear from the Living Cavern, everything gleaming and clean, and the muffled but bustling noises coming from within just add to the air of comfort, family, and hard work done at Fort Weyr.
To the east, a short flight of stairs leads to the hallway to the inner caverns. A stout door to the north has a healer's emblem on it, marking the Infirmary. To the south is a wide tunnel, leading out of the Weyr, and a wide opening to the west leads to the Weyr bowl.
Sybil bustles out of the kitchen, carrying a tray full of sweetrolls over to the far wall of the cavern. From the smell, it's mostly dried berries in this batch, as the cooks make do with the supplies available. She sets the heavy tray down with an audible thump, sliding it into an open space, before grabbing one of the rolls for herself and settling down for a break at one of the tables.
Sitting at that very same table, is P'draig, looking through some formationg charts and sipping at a mug of klah. He looks up at Sybil's arrival and smiles over. "Hey there."
Sybil smiles warmly at P'draig, and finishes up her sweetroll. "G'afternoon P'draig..." she says, picking at the table with her thumbnail. "How're things going?"
"Pretty well thanks ... and you?" P'draig shifts the hide in front of him a little forward and away. "Fresh out of the oven?" He nods towards the sweet roll the kitchen assistant's got.
"Yep...only about ten minutes old..." Sybil says, grinning. "Not that I actually got to make them, but when you prep all the ingredients..." she smiles shyly. "It's almost the same thing."
"Heh, well that's most of the work right there," the former Baker grins and tilts a look over at where she dumped the rolls off. "But if they're that fresh, excuse me for a second while I grab one before they're all gone." So saying P'draig rises and goes after one of the treats, returning quickly and dropping back into his seat.
P'draig breaks his roll into two and takes a few bites, nodding. "Good." He lifts the unnibbled half up in a sort of toast to the kitchen assistant. "Seems like everything's going smoothly in the kitchens then. Was in there this morning stealing some stove space."
Sybil looks interested. "You like to cook, then?" she asks, somewhat wonderingly. "Where do you find the time, being a dragonrider and all?"
"Used to be a Baker, so I'd say so. Yep. I like to get back into the kitchen at least once a week if I can." P'draig nibbles on more roll. "Don't have as much time for it as I'd like, have to squeeze it in here and there."
"It must be tough to juggle responsibilities like that.." Sybil says, nodding thoughtfully. "Speaking of, do you think they'll be searching soon?" she asks wistfully, having finally worked up the courage to ask.'
T'rien drifts in from the bowl and the cold, chill evening. He pulls off his gloves and blows on his hands as he makes his way inside, straight for the hearths and their promise of warmth. Unbuckling his riding jacket and stripping off the other accoutrements of winter, he all but steps into the fire itself, sighing in relief as the heat of the flames melts the ice from his bones.
"Well it's not a responsibility for me. More like ... fun. A hobby." P'draig grins over at the assistant, then shrugs. "There's eggs on the Sands. Searchriders will be going out soon."
Sybil smiles. "So I've heard." and sighs. "I guess I should be getting back to the kitchens; there's always more food to prepare, especially since it's getting close to the evening meal." She shakes her head, and grins again. "I'll talk to you later, P'draig..."
T'rien turns, offering his backside to the fire. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and pronounces, "I hate winter," to anyone who wants to hear it.
"Good luck with finishing up tonight." Again Paddy lifts a partially eaten bit of roll. "And keep at the roll-making. Might maybe make a Baker someday." He winks after the assistant then forgoes further speech due to his mouth being busy with eating the rest of the roll.
Sybil mounts the steps that lead to the kitchen.