sixthiterationlogs | of vension and root pottage and fritters

Entry tags:

of vension and root pottage and fritters

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: 7th November | Noon
OPEN TO: E V E R Y O N E
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: Open and onging!

Since that first lunch at the Inn, Kate Kelly has kept them up. Every day, without fail - even when she went missing and then was recovering, people continued in the kitchen to make sure the community gets their daily midday meal. She's proud of that, and she thinks she's allowed to be.

Today is no different.

The food is dropped off, the volunteers gather to chop and stir and cook and serve, the community gathers to eat, and then it is time to clean everything. If there is still no alcohol, well...

There's tea. And a coffee substitute made from chicory. And... Water.

So come on in, help at the kitchen or pull up a chair in the pub in front of the fire, and enjoy some warm food and company while the outside cold (and death) stays firmly outside.

[OOC: All sections are completely free for all! You can handwave your character helping out or thread it out, or just jump in to them eating. All characters are ICly invited, as they are every day.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

It takes time to make food. For the sake of today's pottage, the deer needs to be butchered. Parts are left at the butcher's to be smoked and preserved, but others are transported to the Inn for further chopping and then to be slowly, slowly simmered to soften it.

While the meat cooks, the root vegetables and greens need to be chopped up, steamed, boiled (and boiled a couple times in the cases of some bits), before being added to the venison.

There are also the fritters to be made, finally chopped and mashed roots and herbs mixed with eggs and fried up as a side-dish.

Fortunately, the kitchen in the inn is large, airy and very well-appointed.

Unfortunately, things can get a bit messy cooking...

The main point of all this: now the pottage and fritters are now ready and it is time to eat. Form a line, grab a bowl and cutlery, serve yourself and then go and find a seat in the main room. But be careful, those inclined to brood, for there are only so many quiet dark corners...

All good things must, sadly, come to an end, and now it's time to clean. If the addition of fritters to the daily main meal is welcome, it also means that there is more cleaning to be done. Left-over food is to be stored at the inn for supper or for tomorrow, and the various pots, pans and utensils all need to be cleaned.

Isn't it a good thing people have worked out how to make soap by now?

It's been weeks now and Carlos is still in this strange place. He still doesn't know who to trust, but both Jake and Veronica seem to be kind, good people. For lack of better options, Carlos finds himself trusting them and the others he's met in the community, but he still feels like he's a bit useless. Apparently, he used to hunt and gather and tend to the chickens. Now, he doesn't have the skills to do anything but the last two and he's brought some of the eggs to the inn today, in the hopes of getting something in return.

Starving, Carlos is quick to find himself a bowl and selfishly grabs fritters for himself when the delicious smell overpowers his senses and makes him feel like he's back home, sitting and doing homework while his Mama cooks. He eats with slowness to savour, his eyes closed and a broad grin on his lips for every taste, reaching out in order to try and mix it with the meat.

Searching around, there's no hat on his head and his eyes are wide, open, and while Carlos hasn't been denied conversation from anyone, he still feels hungry for more companionship. "Is good," he says to the first face that passes him. "Yes? I could eat a whole army's worth, but I don't think that would be a very good idea. It's getting colder and there's less and less food, isn't there?" he natters away in Spanish, rambling almost for the sake of speaking in between bites.

Sam liked taking on the duty of cooking. It was the one job he hadn't had to learn here, it was a skill he'd brought along with him. Sure, he'd had to learn to cook with produce and meat he wasn't used to -- but it wasn't as difficult given he had the basic techniques of cooking down pat.

So, when he could, Sam made sure he was available to help with the meals like this. Sam had volunteered this time to work on the fritters. His mom had shown him how to fry a number of foods growing up and this wasn't much different. Even that aside, Sam had become pretty efficient and quick at chopping up a variety of ingredients: herbs and roots were chopped, smashed, and shredded before being divided into small bowls for use.

He heard a noise and looked up, offering a smile, "Hope you're hungry. I'm about to start frying these suckers up."

She had kept to herself during the preparation and the actual consuming of lunch. She wanted the solitude and the chance to relax and gather her thoughts. The recent events had strained her nerves, and the sudden arrival of snow hadn't helped matters. While she was normally a calm person, the loss of her ram had left her frazzled and hysterical. It wasn't a side of herself that she had wanted to display and it was rather embarrassing that many had heard her.

Keeping herself collected, she had worked in silence, hoping to keep from drawing further comments or censure. She had enough for herself. She had tipped her hand when she had never done so before.

Strangely, Kate's lunch had helped ease her stress. It was a return to the familiar and it was nice to be surrounded by those she cared for. Even the washing of dishes felt like a soothing ritual. She smiled softly as she scrubbed a pan, listening to the swirl of water, lost in her thoughts.

It's purely by chance that Sansa finds herself at the Inn and enjoying the food that has been made. After standing in line to get her serving, she steps away from the table and pauses long enough to look over the room for a spot to sit. The smell of the pottage is teasing her senses and causing a deep, gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach which reminds her that she hasn't eaten yet.

She is near her intended spot when suddenly a man that she doesn't recognize looks up and says something to her. Coming to a stop, she looks briefly confused as she watches him and then glances over her shoulder to see if maybe there is someone else that he is talking to. Once she realizes that he seems to be talking to her, she turns back to look at him again with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said."

Thorfinn more often than not did not come to the midday meal. He was worried about the animal population like many of the other hunters, not to mention the fact he was more than used to going hungry. It was nothing new to him. A minor annoyance on top of many other minor annoyances. Today was one of those few days he made his way inside the inn again hours after dropping off some things for Kate. As always anything he killed was pre-skinned. Not only to save Kate and the other's time, but to keep the skin for his cloak he planned to have made as soon as he could think of something to trade.

The young Norsemen made his way inside, his long john sleeves showing under the stained grey tunic Kate had made him with the belt looped around the middle. His blade stuck between the tunic and belt still lacking a proper sheath at the moment. His hair was hanging loose again, to much time in braids made it curl and he hated his hair in curls it just made him homesick that much worse.

After getting something to eat he moved to take a seat, as per usual over off by himself. Old habits were hard to kill even if he had friends here he was still used to eating off by himself.

English. It's always English with these people, Carlos is finding. He doesn't know why he's surprised, but it's a pretty girl with a look and a smile for him, so he takes it a little better than he might otherwise. "Sorry," he gets out, echoing her word even though his version has much more of an accent applied to it. "I say, it's almost cold," he struggles through the words.

"Food, little," he goes on.

This has only strengthened his determination to learn better English, even if it's only to listen and understand the people around him. He lifts his spoon and gives her an appraising look. "Good?"

Thorfinn moved from where he had been sitting when he saw Carlos. He pulled out a chair to sit beside him. Hearing the man speak the words he didn't understand at all he just offered a smile. He had been spending his days still collecting the bog iron even as he had planned and his usual tasks that keep him busy in the days.

"Hello," he started as he sat down beside the other. Placing a large knife on the table. It was sharpened up just like the one he used, wrapped in a bit of faberic. "You might not recall, but I promised to make you this." He explained in case the other was curious why a knife was being placed by him. Even if Cougar might not remember, Thorfinn tried to be a man of his word.

Carlos starts a little to see a familiar face, the man who said that they would try and be friends again from the start. That startled shock turns up even higher when he sees the knife, his eyes widening as he eases back away from the table. "No trouble," he says, trying to wave him off because this is a problem.

"I don't want any trouble," he rambles worriedly, eyes darting around as if someone is going to crash in and arrest him all of a sudden.

Thorfinn looked more than a little confused at the reaction... maybe he should just give it to Jake just incase. He reached over sliding it back. "There is no trouble." he spoke carefully, making sure he didnt trip a word, motioning to the blade. "For hunting."

Thorfinn wished he could understand what the other was speaking when his words went different. It wasn't a language he understood. He never traveled far enough south to ever visit Spain. Not that it would have helped much. Thorfinn just blinked a little more. "You do not want?"

Carlos stares at the knife, listens to the word that it's meant to be used for, and still finds himself beyond confused. He's not a hunter, he's never been someone to hunt things, and he doesn't know the first thing about using that kind of weapon. He's good with a punch, sure, but who isn't after a bar-room brawl?

"It will hurt people. Things," he says. "I will hurt them, if I use."

Clannish as Kate is by upbringing, she can read the dynamics of a crowd. She lacks an educated woman's words to describe what she sees, but she makes it a point to move where she sits, who she sits with. Today, she's eaten her soap with one small cluster of people but now, fritter in hand, she's standing by Thorfinn's table.

"Can I sit with you?" she asks him, gesturing to a chair at his table.

Nerys had been keeping to herself for a few days, but she's decided in the colder weather that it's best to join her fellow villagers at lunch time. If anything, it means she's social and eats hot protein at least once a day, and that's a good thing for her health in more ways than one.

She's spent some time this morning butchering deer for the pottage--the long slow cook time means she's had to think about what's best for the pot and finding scraps in amidst the joints and bones. Thinking means she's not brooding, and that's a good thing, as the change to the weather has gotten her worried. Nerys had never thought she'd be here this long, and despite the confidence Thorfinn had expressed, she isn't so sure how well-equipped they are.

But the work is done, and now--now she's got some of Sam's fresh fried fritters and a steaming bowl, and she is not going to think, she is going to look for someone to sit with. A friendly face, some friendly conversation. It's not Dax at the replimat, but that's more than okay right now.

Nerys has cleaned the entire haunch as best she can--down to the bare bones--but there's a hell of a lot more time until the food is actually ready. So, after a thorough wash up, she's back to help a little more. Stuff needs to be done, after all.

"Need a hand?" she asks, smiling back at the man (Sam, she's pretty sure his name is). "When I'm frying stuff, I always find I need about three other pairs, so just point me in the right direction."

It takes her a second or two to piece together what he is saying but she nods again with a pleasant smile when he reaches the end of it. She glances down at the bowl in her hands and nods. "It does smell good. I'm looking forward to trying it."

She just needs to find a place to sit down and actually do so. Except for the fact that she is lingering as she focuses on him again, not wanting to be rude by suddenly just walking off when he had been the one to speak to her first.

"Have you been here long?" She says it slowly, tilting her head to the side.

It's a hard question and it takes Carlos a long time to try and figure out how to even respond to that. As far as he knows, no, he hasn't been here very long at all. It's only been two weeks. He knows it's only been two weeks, because before that, he knows that he'd been in San Diego. He knows that, and yet, everyone tells him otherwise. "I only remember two weeks," he says carefully, "but people here, they say that I am here months." It doesn't make any sense, but he has to believe it because they know things about him that they shouldn't and wouldn't know unless they actually knew him.

"I am Carlos," he says. "But some here, they say I'm Cougar," he goes on, shaking his head because it doesn't make any sense to him. "Can't remember being here," he admits. "Scary."

After finding an open table and choosing a spot at the very far end, Sansa sits with her bowl of pottage in front of her while nibbling at one of the fritters. Every once in awhile she dips the fritter in the pottage like she had seen someone else do and goes back to taking another bite. She eats slowly and delicately despite the gnawing hunger in the pit of her stomach, ever aware that someone might be watching or even judging.

That means it will take her a little while to finish her meal but she doesn't seem to be in a rush either. She knows that there are things that she can be doing but she is still trying to find her footing in this strange place. Eventually, she needs to start making arrangements so that she can make clothes and cloaks for people.

She is still thinking about it as she takes a small bite of her pottage and savors it. Then a shadow falls over her and she glances up curiously to see who is close by.

"But how is that possible?" She asks as a look of concern crosses her features at the idea of losing time or memories like that. To think that you had been somewhere for only a few days but then told that you had been there for months. She couldn't even imagine it and she was capable of imagining a great many horrible things if let to do so.

"It is nice to meet you, Carlos." She decides to use his actual name since that is the first one he offered to her. Then she nods her head. "It does sound scary. I hope that your memories come back. Did you get hurt before they disappeared?"

Sam grinned. Half the fun of working in the group kitchen was working together. He wasn't about to turn down an offer to help and it would make the process go by faster. "Sure," he replied, gesturing at an open work space nearby. The station was set to roll the fritters in egg batter and the herb/root mixture to coat it. "I'll take care of frying if you want to start getting the fritters prepared," he said. He already had all the bowls set up, so it wouldn't be too difficult to just roll the fritters in the egg and herb mixture to coat it and ready it for the frying part.

The kitchen was a rare place to find Thorfinn in the Inn. Usually he avvoided it all together when he paid visits to the place but he had chewed on some thoughts for a few days, which had been half the reason why he had come when he so rarely did. He hadn't had a chance to see Margaery since that day Bushy was found. He was still preparing for winter, and more 'busy' than ever. When he stressed he found ways to keep himself constantly busy. It was a terrible habit that ran in his family.

So, after eatting and speaking to a couple people he finally ventured to the kitchen when it seemed quiet, leaning in the doorway so not to seem like he was invading her space and to have a quick exit if things went south. He didn't fear much but a friends scorn... he didn't want that.

"Margaery..." He started. "are you busy?" He asked, not wanting to be a bother either, but it seemed important to just be honest to someone he considered one of his closest friends.

Thorfinn rarely came to the meals, but he had come looking for the mutual friend of them both. He had not yet gathered the courage to face Margaery, it was strange being fearful of something like emotions when he could face down giants of men and not fell a drop of fear... but the idea of having upset his friend that bothered him.

A laughter followed the shadow, Thorfinn saying something to someone else, and a little laughter escaped him. His hair wasn't braided today, but hanging loose and free. It was both long and straight as could be when not in its braids or just taken down. For once he was clean shaven, which was a stark contrast to many of the men in the village. Turning to see the woman, and gave her a smile. Even if he was worried about facing Margaery, he was glad to see Sansa.

"Lady Stark." He greeted her with a tip of his head. "It is good to see you again."

Thorfinn nodded, reaching over and taking the knife back. Slipping it back where he had had it against his belt.

"Then no don't worry. I will keep and if you remember I will give then. I do not like violence either. I only hunt to keep us alive. I wont make another be violent." He explained, since Carlos wouldn't know his past, and the details even Cougar didn't know. "I know this is strange for you. I could not speak and be understood when I came... I have learned English here." He spoke on. "No one speak Norse anymore. It died with my people. You." He motioned forward. "The other you, that is forgotten, he helped to. He understands I think. What I mean... Your not alone. I will help in all I can for you."

Thorfinn looked up from his bowl, offering Kate a light smile and nodded. "You don't need to ask. You are welcomed." His english was much better, he had been working more and more. This was the longest he had sat still besides being inside the house he shared with Kol and Jo since Bushy was found. It was clear he was stressed. If not just from the way he was suddenly constantly busy, or by the sleep lines finally showing under his eyes. He always slept bad but this was the worst it had been in some time. "How is Kate?" He asked, despite his own life, he wanted to make sure no one really noticed anything was wrong with him, the hypocrite he was... having snapped at her for the same thing.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 6

of vension and root pottage and fritters

Gathering, Butchering and Cooking

Dinner is Served

Clean-up

OTA

OTA

OTA

Re: OTA

OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

OTA

Re: OTA

no subject

no subject

OTA

no subject

Re: OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject