Log: Kitchen Duty - Lujayn and P'draig
Who: P'draig, Lujayn
When: day 28, month 6, 11th Turn, 10th Interval
Where: Fort Weyr, Kitchen
What: P'draig and Lujayn share some kitchen duties and chat about what life can be like post-Impression.
3/30/2007
08:00 PM
Logfile from P'draig.
Kitchen
The kitchen area has a huge vaulted ceiling, formed from a bubble when this volcano was active. From the entranceway off the Living Caverns, the kitchens appear to be brilliantly lit and sparking clean. Everything shines and immaculately cleansed. To the right is the bank of ovens. Each is built of the finest fire-resistant brick made by the Minecraft. The smooth outer surfaces are plastered and painted in scenes from Fort's great Threadfall battles, making these ovens some of the most finely decorated anywhere on Pern. The first, and smallest, is specialized for pastries and other delicate items. Tables and sheets for all manner of careful baking surround it. The next two ovens are the large mass-baking ovens that are integral to every large Weyr kitchen. Here, a nearly endless stream of meatrolls, breads, and other staples are made. The fires are almost always hot, and Bakercraft apprentices work alongside Fort Weyrfolk to complete this major part of feeding the Weyr.
Further along used to be the cooking hearths, but they seem to have been replaced with the new-fangled cooktops that the Bakers are installing everywhere these days. This is where huge pots of stew and soup are cooked as well as any sauces that need large pots to simmer in. Along the left side of the aisle is the huge prep area for the kitchens. Gleaming white marble countertops are the theme here, with brown and black trim subtly reminding the viewer of the kitchens' home. Above the countertops are metal racks filled with ceramic bowls, and even a few of the very expensive copper ones. Throughout the kitchen there are storage areas under counters and workspaces, and drawers throughout the area suggest locations for utensils. Food seems, for the most part, to come from the storage areas in huge quantities, though spices and certain very commonly used ingredients are stored in the kitchens themselves.
Contents:
Lujayn
Cooking Competition Signup
Obvious exits:
Kitchen Stores Living Cavern
The Roleplay in this room currently cannot be heard in the LC. To reverse this, type: noisy
Lujayn leans over a countertop, putting as much weight as she can into a large bowl - something like a mortar and pestle. From time to time she pauses, obviously exerting a lot of effort on whatever's in the bowl. Her usual runnertail is coming apart, strands of light brown hair stuck to her face.
P'draig slips into the kitchens wearing old work clothes, clean, but much-patched with an apron on. He looks like he's about to dive in and help with kitchen duty. He pauses to have a word with one of the cooks, nodding and then moves to a station across from Lujayn, pulling a lot of vegetables to work on from the communal pile and starts chopping. "Hey there," he says friendly-like to the girl.
Lujayn stops immediately, glad to have some respite from the work. Her legs are well muscled from Running, but the same can't be said for her skinny arms. "Hey." Twisting strands of hair back into its tail, she smiles. "I didn't know riders ever bothered with stuff in here." Lu eyes the vegetables.
P'draig grins as he chops a bit faster. "Used to be a Baker. Sometimes, when I need to work off a little steam, I ask cook if I can help out." He lays out a completely julienned carrot and grabs a pepper, deft fingers slicing it rapidly. "What're you working on? Sauce? Paste?" he peers into the mortar.
A tall, lanky girl with long tawny hair done back in a runnertail and curious gray eyes. Lujayn moves quickly with practiced sure-footedness, eager to show what she knows and all that she's able to do. More accurately she stands at 5' 4", tall enough for a lass of thirteen, though this height is only expected to increase in the turns to come. She wears a dusky green tunic with an old, dark shirt underneath, breeches nearly outgrown and shoes well-worn from Running hither and tither. The tunic is tied at the waist with a pretty length of braided cord, brown and black to match Fort's colors. A similar colored knot is slipped over her shoulder, with a single cord of white to mark her as a Candidate of the Weyr.
Lujayn watches the easy way P'draig handles the vegetables, concealing her envy with a short laugh. "I wish it was something interesting like that." She tilts the bowl over, revealing small brown chunks and some roughly ground powder. "I have to grind the klah bark today. It's not hard, not really, but after doing it for a while you're kinda sore." She picks up the pestle again and starts working on one of the bigger scraps of bark.
"Useful at least, klah bark's good for spicing a lot of things," replies P'draig with an easy smile, turning an onion into tiny cubes now. "Yeah, the pestle is heavy. I remember. They sometimes assign that as disciplinary duty at the Bakercraft." He winks across at the candidate. "So, how long've you been here for?"
Lujayn tips the large bowl slowly, letting the ground powder sift out into a smaller container. "Since midday, just about. Not that I've been doing this the whole time," She explains quickly. "Just trading off with the other candidates who're assigned to this with me so we don't burn out." Dusting stray specks of spice off the countertop, Lu idles a bit before turning back to the heavy task.
P'draig chuckles as he tackles another onion, the tip of his knife slitting the papery skin and pulling it off, making another quick dice of the white vegetable. "I meant here at the Weyr, but that's smart to trade off like that. Keep your arms fresher longer."
"It was my idea," Lujayn takes the opportunity to brag, glad to see her own pile of bark dwindling at long last. "I've always lived here, except when I used to Run messages out around here. Then I'd be gone for a while. It's strange that there are still so many people I haven't seen, even after my whole life."
P'draig eyes the girl closely, blinking in surprise. "Oh wait ... you're Lu, Lujy?" he puts two and two together and makes an attempt at her name. "Did you grow or something?" He grins over at her, clearly not intending offense. "I'm P'draig, the Weyrlingmaster," he supplies and wipes his hand on his apron, holding a hand across the counter to her. "Just to make sure we're introduced properly.
Lujayn looks back at P'draig while under his gaze, then shakes his hand vigorously. "Lujayn," She nods. "Everyone tells me I have, supposedly, but I haven't noticed much else besides being able to run faster." The girl's shrug is nonchalant, but the Weyrlingmaster's grin is mirrored on her own face. "And it's true I haven't been paying a lot of attention to meeting everyone, otherwise I probably would've known you too."
P'draig laughs again, a merry sound. "Sorry about mispronouncing. Lujayn," he echoes. "Interesting name, by the by." He resumes cutting that onion, and starts on another one the mountain of diced cubed growing with each addition. "Sometimes we riders spend so much time flying and sleeping up in our weyrs we don't notice what's right under our noses. That's another reason I like to come work in the kitchens sometimes. Lets me stay in touch with the rest of life in the Weyr."
Lujayn looks doubtful. "I don't know if I like it so much in the kitchens. It's so /crowded/ a lot of the time; people are always coming and going. Maybe it'd be different if I chose to be here instead, like you." She ignores the comment about her name, standing on her tiptoes to put as much pressure as possible against the bark. "But there are lots of things I don't know about above my nose, right, like flying and everything else. That must make up for some of it."
P'draig looks around the kitchen and nods. "It is usually pretty busy, I guess you get used to it, especially when you spend a fair amount of time as an apprentice in a kitchen. I really like cooking, miss it a lot." Finishing up with the onions, he sweeps the mass into a bowl and carries it over to a pot, dumping them inside. He returns and gets started on more carrots. "Never flown a-dragonback?"
"Trade you," Lujayn offers promptly, though what she would trade kitchen duty for she may not know. "And nah, I've never needed to. When I take messages I'm running with them, and I haven't gone to faraway places that you need /between/ for."
"Wanna be Weyrlingmaster for a day?" P'draig asks, grinning broadly, working through his pile of carrots. "Y'know, the Weyrwoman was a message-runner before she Impressed." A pause as he takes the carrot julienne and adds it to the same pot as the onions and it's more peppers now. "Interested in going far away?"
Lujayn shakes the rest of the powder from the bowl, only a sparse few bits of bark remaining. The going is much easier as she replies: "Do message-runners make good dragonriders, or was that just because she was who she was?" Maybe it's a good sign. "I have to stay in the Weyr now that I'm a Candidate, but most people I meet are always talking about other Weyrs where the lakes are warm and it doesn't really snow.. maybe that would be nice, but I like Fort best." She concludes with certainty.
"No idea," admits P'draig, with another bright grin. "I'm Weyrbred myself, parents both riders." He shakes his head. "Don't have to stay in the Weyr if you're going with a rider, just have to be able to get back fast if the eggs start rocking. Ista's nice. Boll. The South." He looks down at his peppers and chops more fiercely
"Ah. Me too." Lujayn pushes aside the large, now-empty bowl and stares at the pile of grounds. "I guess I'm done with this. Do you need any help?" She looks over at his work, hovering nearby. "There's nothing else I have to be doing just now."
P'draig turns a pepper on its side and pauses to wipe his forehead on his sleeve in the crook of his arm. "D'you know how to do a fine dice?" he points at the diced bits with his knife.
"I probably wouldn't do it just right, but I know how to slice things. I could try." It looks as if Lujayn has conveniently forgotten her dislike of the kitchens.
P'draig nods and puts two peppers over for Lujayn to work. "Get a nice sharp knife with a blade long like mine," he holds up the one in his hand. "I can walk you through it"
Lujayn plucks a knife from its block, comparing it silently to P'draig's before turning back. "All right. Can you still use these if it doesn't come out right?"
P'draig chuckles softly. "Yes, it just means that they might cook a bit less evenly. I'm using these for the base of a stew though, so it's not that big of a --" he breaks off and steps over to the pot where the other chopped items are and gives them a stir. "Don't want these to burn," he swings the pot away from the flame a bit and returns. "Okay, hold your knife like this," he demonstrates, "and open the pepper up like so." The cutting demonstration continues, ending up with a pile of diced pepper.
Lujayn doesn't cut with practiced ease but tries her best. The knife slips once or twice as she mimics P'draig, glancing between his work and her own. Eventually it comes apart, and she has an easier time getting the pepper into smaller bits. "You just know how to do all this by heart?" She asks, a bit stunned.
P'draig nods, sliding the cubes to one side and drawing another of the peppers towards himself. "Mmmhm. Lots of practice. The first few weeks and months of apprenticeship in the craft you do nothing but chop and chop and chop and learn how to make broth out of what you chopped."
One of the slices gets away from her and Lu spends more time chopping it smaller all on its own, but moves onto the next soon enough. "I don't know if I'd have patience for all that. An awful lot of the same thing, huh?" She takes her time scoring the second pepper, concentrating on getting each cut in just the right place.
"It is at first, but it doesn't last forever," explains P'draig, finishing up the pepper in his hands and picks up another. "You move on to other things pretty quickly, how to actually cook the ingredients make them go together. That's the fun part, preparing meals, menus, getting it all together."
"How many of these d'you need?" Even after just two peppers, Lujayn looks like she thinks there must be plenty. "Sounds like there's a lot to know about cooking. Did you always want to do that kind of work?"
P'draig finishes up the last of them. "That's it, let's go put them in with the rest of the stuff." The brownrider holds his bowl out to Lujayn to add her to the pile, to carry them over to the pot. "I'd always known something about it. It's in my blood. Two Bakers for grandmothers and my father worked as a cook before he Impressed. I wasn't sure I wanted to do it as a Craft, but when I had to pick, that's what felt right. Been at it since I was 13 now."
Lujayn piles the peppers in with the rest, wiping her knife clean on a rag. "Even after you Impressed, too?" Taking a moment to clean off the cutting board for good measure, she follows after P'draig.
P'draig walks to the pot and adds the peppers, sets the bowl down and gives the whole thing a stir. He swings the pot back over stronger flame, watching the mixture cook. "When I could. Not as a Weyrling really unless I had kitchen duty, but you're too busy when the dragons are little to really do anything but feed them, bathe them, oil them and sleep." He grins over at the Candidate and hads her a long handled wooden spoon. "Stir it when the fat at the bottom starts to bubble through. It's done when the onions go all see-through and start to turn brown. That's called "caramelizing" and it makes them sweet. We'll add some meat next."
Lujayn takes the spoon somewhat apprehensively, peering into the pot like a foreign object. "Okay, yeah." She responds, watching the mixture intently. "It never looked this hard until just now. Tell me if I make a mistake." The stakes are higher for a whole pot of stew than they had been for a couple of peppers.
P'draig has his own spoon at the ready, looking down into the pot. "Another hint, it starts to smell good when it's just about ready to be taken off." He props his hands on his hips, and casts a curious look over at the girl. "So, if you don't Impress, think you'll stick to running messages?"
Lujayn's attention is unwavering upon the stew; she doesn't look away as she replies. "I haven't thought about that yet, but that's what would make the most sense to do." She affirms with a single nod. "I probably won't switch to cooking, at least."
P'draig chuckles softly. "Once you learn the basics, it /can/ be fun. Especially desserts. Though they're a bit fussier than dinner. Stir," he instructs as brown edging starts to show up along the undersides of the vegetables. He takes that opportunity to get the salt and pepper shakers down off a shelf and shakes a bit of each into the pot while Lujayn's spoon goes around, then puts them away. "Always season at the beginning and the end of your cooking." He's quiet for a moment then nods. "If I hadn't, I would have gone for my journeyman's knot. Life might have been very different." His face remains thoughtful, a slight rosy glow from the fire in his cheeks
Lujayn is on it like white on rivergrains, stirring continuously - she'd nearly missed what she was supposed to be watching for. "I hope I remember some of this." Watching the seasonings go in, she bobs her head again and listens. "You're still happy with things they way they are, right?" She frowns a little. "It sounds like you're good at being a rider too, if you reached Weyrlingmaster."
"See how it bubbles up? That's the juices releasing from the vegetables. That's why we cut it up so fine. Hold on a sec." P'draig vanishes into the cold storage for a moment and comes back with a bowl full of chopped up junk meat. Casually the former Baker starts tossing the chunks into the pot. "Mm. I like being a rider, I'm glad I can still cook sometimes. Being Weyrlingmaster is harder. I kind of came to it by default. Leeana had taken over after being trained by S'din from High Reaches when V'yse stepped down. But she had some problems and had to step down herself, in the middle of a cycle. I've been Weyrlingmaster ever since. Which isn't terribly long really. About six turns."
Lujayn glances over her shoulder, watching where the brownrider has gone. "It sounds like it all works out, no matter what happens." Leaning back in case she might get splashed, the Candidate resumes her task. While she stirs, Lu's stomach speaks up in the silence. She flushes. "Sorry."
"So you let that brown for a while and then we but the stock in, liquid and bring it up to a boil then let it simmer until it turns into a nice stew." P'draig continues then nods, "It does pretty much work out." He smiles encouragingly at the Candidate "Why don't you go grab some meatrolls or something. I've got this covered."
Lujayn steps aside, setting the spoon nearby for P'draig to take over. "That'd be great," She confesses happily. "I'll see you around, though. Kitchen duty's often." Heading off to the living cavern (and more specifically the buffet table), Lu wears a contended smile.
When: day 28, month 6, 11th Turn, 10th Interval
Where: Fort Weyr, Kitchen
What: P'draig and Lujayn share some kitchen duties and chat about what life can be like post-Impression.
3/30/2007
08:00 PM
Logfile from P'draig.
Kitchen
The kitchen area has a huge vaulted ceiling, formed from a bubble when this volcano was active. From the entranceway off the Living Caverns, the kitchens appear to be brilliantly lit and sparking clean. Everything shines and immaculately cleansed. To the right is the bank of ovens. Each is built of the finest fire-resistant brick made by the Minecraft. The smooth outer surfaces are plastered and painted in scenes from Fort's great Threadfall battles, making these ovens some of the most finely decorated anywhere on Pern. The first, and smallest, is specialized for pastries and other delicate items. Tables and sheets for all manner of careful baking surround it. The next two ovens are the large mass-baking ovens that are integral to every large Weyr kitchen. Here, a nearly endless stream of meatrolls, breads, and other staples are made. The fires are almost always hot, and Bakercraft apprentices work alongside Fort Weyrfolk to complete this major part of feeding the Weyr.
Further along used to be the cooking hearths, but they seem to have been replaced with the new-fangled cooktops that the Bakers are installing everywhere these days. This is where huge pots of stew and soup are cooked as well as any sauces that need large pots to simmer in. Along the left side of the aisle is the huge prep area for the kitchens. Gleaming white marble countertops are the theme here, with brown and black trim subtly reminding the viewer of the kitchens' home. Above the countertops are metal racks filled with ceramic bowls, and even a few of the very expensive copper ones. Throughout the kitchen there are storage areas under counters and workspaces, and drawers throughout the area suggest locations for utensils. Food seems, for the most part, to come from the storage areas in huge quantities, though spices and certain very commonly used ingredients are stored in the kitchens themselves.
Contents:
Lujayn
Cooking Competition Signup
Obvious exits:
Kitchen Stores Living Cavern
The Roleplay in this room currently cannot be heard in the LC. To reverse this, type: noisy
Lujayn leans over a countertop, putting as much weight as she can into a large bowl - something like a mortar and pestle. From time to time she pauses, obviously exerting a lot of effort on whatever's in the bowl. Her usual runnertail is coming apart, strands of light brown hair stuck to her face.
P'draig slips into the kitchens wearing old work clothes, clean, but much-patched with an apron on. He looks like he's about to dive in and help with kitchen duty. He pauses to have a word with one of the cooks, nodding and then moves to a station across from Lujayn, pulling a lot of vegetables to work on from the communal pile and starts chopping. "Hey there," he says friendly-like to the girl.
Lujayn stops immediately, glad to have some respite from the work. Her legs are well muscled from Running, but the same can't be said for her skinny arms. "Hey." Twisting strands of hair back into its tail, she smiles. "I didn't know riders ever bothered with stuff in here." Lu eyes the vegetables.
P'draig grins as he chops a bit faster. "Used to be a Baker. Sometimes, when I need to work off a little steam, I ask cook if I can help out." He lays out a completely julienned carrot and grabs a pepper, deft fingers slicing it rapidly. "What're you working on? Sauce? Paste?" he peers into the mortar.
A tall, lanky girl with long tawny hair done back in a runnertail and curious gray eyes. Lujayn moves quickly with practiced sure-footedness, eager to show what she knows and all that she's able to do. More accurately she stands at 5' 4", tall enough for a lass of thirteen, though this height is only expected to increase in the turns to come. She wears a dusky green tunic with an old, dark shirt underneath, breeches nearly outgrown and shoes well-worn from Running hither and tither. The tunic is tied at the waist with a pretty length of braided cord, brown and black to match Fort's colors. A similar colored knot is slipped over her shoulder, with a single cord of white to mark her as a Candidate of the Weyr.
Lujayn watches the easy way P'draig handles the vegetables, concealing her envy with a short laugh. "I wish it was something interesting like that." She tilts the bowl over, revealing small brown chunks and some roughly ground powder. "I have to grind the klah bark today. It's not hard, not really, but after doing it for a while you're kinda sore." She picks up the pestle again and starts working on one of the bigger scraps of bark.
"Useful at least, klah bark's good for spicing a lot of things," replies P'draig with an easy smile, turning an onion into tiny cubes now. "Yeah, the pestle is heavy. I remember. They sometimes assign that as disciplinary duty at the Bakercraft." He winks across at the candidate. "So, how long've you been here for?"
Lujayn tips the large bowl slowly, letting the ground powder sift out into a smaller container. "Since midday, just about. Not that I've been doing this the whole time," She explains quickly. "Just trading off with the other candidates who're assigned to this with me so we don't burn out." Dusting stray specks of spice off the countertop, Lu idles a bit before turning back to the heavy task.
P'draig chuckles as he tackles another onion, the tip of his knife slitting the papery skin and pulling it off, making another quick dice of the white vegetable. "I meant here at the Weyr, but that's smart to trade off like that. Keep your arms fresher longer."
"It was my idea," Lujayn takes the opportunity to brag, glad to see her own pile of bark dwindling at long last. "I've always lived here, except when I used to Run messages out around here. Then I'd be gone for a while. It's strange that there are still so many people I haven't seen, even after my whole life."
P'draig eyes the girl closely, blinking in surprise. "Oh wait ... you're Lu, Lujy?" he puts two and two together and makes an attempt at her name. "Did you grow or something?" He grins over at her, clearly not intending offense. "I'm P'draig, the Weyrlingmaster," he supplies and wipes his hand on his apron, holding a hand across the counter to her. "Just to make sure we're introduced properly.
Lujayn looks back at P'draig while under his gaze, then shakes his hand vigorously. "Lujayn," She nods. "Everyone tells me I have, supposedly, but I haven't noticed much else besides being able to run faster." The girl's shrug is nonchalant, but the Weyrlingmaster's grin is mirrored on her own face. "And it's true I haven't been paying a lot of attention to meeting everyone, otherwise I probably would've known you too."
P'draig laughs again, a merry sound. "Sorry about mispronouncing. Lujayn," he echoes. "Interesting name, by the by." He resumes cutting that onion, and starts on another one the mountain of diced cubed growing with each addition. "Sometimes we riders spend so much time flying and sleeping up in our weyrs we don't notice what's right under our noses. That's another reason I like to come work in the kitchens sometimes. Lets me stay in touch with the rest of life in the Weyr."
Lujayn looks doubtful. "I don't know if I like it so much in the kitchens. It's so /crowded/ a lot of the time; people are always coming and going. Maybe it'd be different if I chose to be here instead, like you." She ignores the comment about her name, standing on her tiptoes to put as much pressure as possible against the bark. "But there are lots of things I don't know about above my nose, right, like flying and everything else. That must make up for some of it."
P'draig looks around the kitchen and nods. "It is usually pretty busy, I guess you get used to it, especially when you spend a fair amount of time as an apprentice in a kitchen. I really like cooking, miss it a lot." Finishing up with the onions, he sweeps the mass into a bowl and carries it over to a pot, dumping them inside. He returns and gets started on more carrots. "Never flown a-dragonback?"
"Trade you," Lujayn offers promptly, though what she would trade kitchen duty for she may not know. "And nah, I've never needed to. When I take messages I'm running with them, and I haven't gone to faraway places that you need /between/ for."
"Wanna be Weyrlingmaster for a day?" P'draig asks, grinning broadly, working through his pile of carrots. "Y'know, the Weyrwoman was a message-runner before she Impressed." A pause as he takes the carrot julienne and adds it to the same pot as the onions and it's more peppers now. "Interested in going far away?"
Lujayn shakes the rest of the powder from the bowl, only a sparse few bits of bark remaining. The going is much easier as she replies: "Do message-runners make good dragonriders, or was that just because she was who she was?" Maybe it's a good sign. "I have to stay in the Weyr now that I'm a Candidate, but most people I meet are always talking about other Weyrs where the lakes are warm and it doesn't really snow.. maybe that would be nice, but I like Fort best." She concludes with certainty.
"No idea," admits P'draig, with another bright grin. "I'm Weyrbred myself, parents both riders." He shakes his head. "Don't have to stay in the Weyr if you're going with a rider, just have to be able to get back fast if the eggs start rocking. Ista's nice. Boll. The South." He looks down at his peppers and chops more fiercely
"Ah. Me too." Lujayn pushes aside the large, now-empty bowl and stares at the pile of grounds. "I guess I'm done with this. Do you need any help?" She looks over at his work, hovering nearby. "There's nothing else I have to be doing just now."
P'draig turns a pepper on its side and pauses to wipe his forehead on his sleeve in the crook of his arm. "D'you know how to do a fine dice?" he points at the diced bits with his knife.
"I probably wouldn't do it just right, but I know how to slice things. I could try." It looks as if Lujayn has conveniently forgotten her dislike of the kitchens.
P'draig nods and puts two peppers over for Lujayn to work. "Get a nice sharp knife with a blade long like mine," he holds up the one in his hand. "I can walk you through it"
Lujayn plucks a knife from its block, comparing it silently to P'draig's before turning back. "All right. Can you still use these if it doesn't come out right?"
P'draig chuckles softly. "Yes, it just means that they might cook a bit less evenly. I'm using these for the base of a stew though, so it's not that big of a --" he breaks off and steps over to the pot where the other chopped items are and gives them a stir. "Don't want these to burn," he swings the pot away from the flame a bit and returns. "Okay, hold your knife like this," he demonstrates, "and open the pepper up like so." The cutting demonstration continues, ending up with a pile of diced pepper.
Lujayn doesn't cut with practiced ease but tries her best. The knife slips once or twice as she mimics P'draig, glancing between his work and her own. Eventually it comes apart, and she has an easier time getting the pepper into smaller bits. "You just know how to do all this by heart?" She asks, a bit stunned.
P'draig nods, sliding the cubes to one side and drawing another of the peppers towards himself. "Mmmhm. Lots of practice. The first few weeks and months of apprenticeship in the craft you do nothing but chop and chop and chop and learn how to make broth out of what you chopped."
One of the slices gets away from her and Lu spends more time chopping it smaller all on its own, but moves onto the next soon enough. "I don't know if I'd have patience for all that. An awful lot of the same thing, huh?" She takes her time scoring the second pepper, concentrating on getting each cut in just the right place.
"It is at first, but it doesn't last forever," explains P'draig, finishing up the pepper in his hands and picks up another. "You move on to other things pretty quickly, how to actually cook the ingredients make them go together. That's the fun part, preparing meals, menus, getting it all together."
"How many of these d'you need?" Even after just two peppers, Lujayn looks like she thinks there must be plenty. "Sounds like there's a lot to know about cooking. Did you always want to do that kind of work?"
P'draig finishes up the last of them. "That's it, let's go put them in with the rest of the stuff." The brownrider holds his bowl out to Lujayn to add her to the pile, to carry them over to the pot. "I'd always known something about it. It's in my blood. Two Bakers for grandmothers and my father worked as a cook before he Impressed. I wasn't sure I wanted to do it as a Craft, but when I had to pick, that's what felt right. Been at it since I was 13 now."
Lujayn piles the peppers in with the rest, wiping her knife clean on a rag. "Even after you Impressed, too?" Taking a moment to clean off the cutting board for good measure, she follows after P'draig.
P'draig walks to the pot and adds the peppers, sets the bowl down and gives the whole thing a stir. He swings the pot back over stronger flame, watching the mixture cook. "When I could. Not as a Weyrling really unless I had kitchen duty, but you're too busy when the dragons are little to really do anything but feed them, bathe them, oil them and sleep." He grins over at the Candidate and hads her a long handled wooden spoon. "Stir it when the fat at the bottom starts to bubble through. It's done when the onions go all see-through and start to turn brown. That's called "caramelizing" and it makes them sweet. We'll add some meat next."
Lujayn takes the spoon somewhat apprehensively, peering into the pot like a foreign object. "Okay, yeah." She responds, watching the mixture intently. "It never looked this hard until just now. Tell me if I make a mistake." The stakes are higher for a whole pot of stew than they had been for a couple of peppers.
P'draig has his own spoon at the ready, looking down into the pot. "Another hint, it starts to smell good when it's just about ready to be taken off." He props his hands on his hips, and casts a curious look over at the girl. "So, if you don't Impress, think you'll stick to running messages?"
Lujayn's attention is unwavering upon the stew; she doesn't look away as she replies. "I haven't thought about that yet, but that's what would make the most sense to do." She affirms with a single nod. "I probably won't switch to cooking, at least."
P'draig chuckles softly. "Once you learn the basics, it /can/ be fun. Especially desserts. Though they're a bit fussier than dinner. Stir," he instructs as brown edging starts to show up along the undersides of the vegetables. He takes that opportunity to get the salt and pepper shakers down off a shelf and shakes a bit of each into the pot while Lujayn's spoon goes around, then puts them away. "Always season at the beginning and the end of your cooking." He's quiet for a moment then nods. "If I hadn't, I would have gone for my journeyman's knot. Life might have been very different." His face remains thoughtful, a slight rosy glow from the fire in his cheeks
Lujayn is on it like white on rivergrains, stirring continuously - she'd nearly missed what she was supposed to be watching for. "I hope I remember some of this." Watching the seasonings go in, she bobs her head again and listens. "You're still happy with things they way they are, right?" She frowns a little. "It sounds like you're good at being a rider too, if you reached Weyrlingmaster."
"See how it bubbles up? That's the juices releasing from the vegetables. That's why we cut it up so fine. Hold on a sec." P'draig vanishes into the cold storage for a moment and comes back with a bowl full of chopped up junk meat. Casually the former Baker starts tossing the chunks into the pot. "Mm. I like being a rider, I'm glad I can still cook sometimes. Being Weyrlingmaster is harder. I kind of came to it by default. Leeana had taken over after being trained by S'din from High Reaches when V'yse stepped down. But she had some problems and had to step down herself, in the middle of a cycle. I've been Weyrlingmaster ever since. Which isn't terribly long really. About six turns."
Lujayn glances over her shoulder, watching where the brownrider has gone. "It sounds like it all works out, no matter what happens." Leaning back in case she might get splashed, the Candidate resumes her task. While she stirs, Lu's stomach speaks up in the silence. She flushes. "Sorry."
"So you let that brown for a while and then we but the stock in, liquid and bring it up to a boil then let it simmer until it turns into a nice stew." P'draig continues then nods, "It does pretty much work out." He smiles encouragingly at the Candidate "Why don't you go grab some meatrolls or something. I've got this covered."
Lujayn steps aside, setting the spoon nearby for P'draig to take over. "That'd be great," She confesses happily. "I'll see you around, though. Kitchen duty's often." Heading off to the living cavern (and more specifically the buffet table), Lu wears a contended smile.