So he had a few boxes of carrots in one sink, a whole load of broccoli in another and some cauliflower in another. After the vegetables were defrosted enough to be separated, he would spread them in pans and stack the pans in the sink and let the water cascade down on them until they were completely defrosted.
He had seen this being done on his first tour through the kitchen his first day of work. Now he knew exactly how to calculate amount, number of boxes, and how to set it all up.
Lesson 3. Potatoes. Or rice. Depended upon the menu. Upcoming parties had potatoes, some of them baked potatoes, some pommes duchesse, some scalloped. Two of the parties had yellow rice. These could not be taught now because they had to be made on the day of the service, but Jimmy Banquet Chef told Bill he would make sure that he would set him up to learn each of them. Rice was no problem. They served that at Suburban and so Bill knew how to make it.
Today’s work was easy. Just two small parties, one for about a hundred and one for two hundred. The two hundred was simple, prime rib and baked potato with broccoli. Nothing much for Bill to learn except perfecting his use of the rotary oven. The broccoli was defrosting and the potatoes were being washed by one of the kitchen porters. Kalista was not doing the salad for either party, so she was coming in later. A different pantry woman was there, another Greek, young and quite stunning with deep dark hair and dark features.
Jimmy Banquet Chef led Bill over to her when she came into the kitchen.
“Adonia, meet Bill Wynn. He’s the new Falstaff Room cook and he’s going to be working as many banquets as he can.”
Bill reached out his hand to shake hands with her. “Hello,” he said.
“Hi,” Adonia said. She smiled at Bill, a soft, sweet smile that showed her dimples. Then she turned to the banquet chef and said something to him in Greek. He shot back at her in Greek real fast and that was that. Whatever she’d said, Jimmy Banquet Chef had come back at her with something curt and abrupt, something that ended the conversation where he wanted it to end.
Bill did not understand what was said, but he understood power in the kitchen and he understood body language. Adonia said a quick, “Nice to meet you,” did an about face and went to start taking care of the salads.
“Don’t tell me,” Bill said to Jimmy Banquet Chef, “another cousin.”
“My niece,” the banquet chef said. “She goes to school and only works here when she can. She’s my brother’s kid.”
“She’s a cute kid,” Bill said.
“No matter what, you stay away from her,” the banquet chef said. “No matter what she does. She can be rebellious and act out to get at her father and mother who try to keep a tight hold on her.”
“Hey,” Bill said, “I like my job. I like that you’re straight with me. So I’m all straight with you.”
“Good,” Jimmy Banquet Chef said.
Jimmy G came in then. He was yawning as he walked into the kitchen and still hadn’t buttoned his jacket. Victor was over with Adonia now. They were talking loudly in Greek and she was not happy, to say the least.
Family, Bill thought. To a point working with family was okay. But when discord set in, like with a rebellious kid, someone who was being, as Bill guessed it, held to their own cultural norms in a society where different and maybe more attractive social norms prevailed, well…
And so it goes. And so Bill and Victor and Jimmy G and the banquet chef went about panning up the prime ribs. Doing this was all quite routine for Bill except that instead of roasting one or two ribs they were roasting twenty.
