[Flashback] Much Ado About Mayonnaise

[Orin Fenix]

36th of Winter, 510 AV

Orin smiled as soon as the door shut. The family he was currently with had decided to travel to the fortress for two days to visit relatives in Stormhold. Orin had assured them that he would be perfectly fine and that he would keep an eye on the cottage while they were gone. They'd been reluctant, but after Orin had suggested that they could ask the neighbors to check on Orin, they had relaxed considerably. Orin didn't know what they were worried about. It was the middle of winter so Orin couldn't exactly go anywhere. He would be found out immediately, since the Knights kept guards on the walls. And destroying the cottage or making a mess of everything would do more harm to Orin than it would to them. He'd get punished, then be forced to make amends or clean in that case. Still Orin was coming to the realization that people weren't exactly rational about these types of situations. Still, Orin had secured two days of relative freedom and he was planning on making the most of it. So he'd waved at the family as they paraded out in their winter clothes. Then firmly closed and latched the door behind them.

Now Orin could finally finish off the vinegar he'd been working on since the beginning of winter. He'd been surreptitiously checking on it every chance he got which worked out to be every couple of days ago. About three days ago the telltale aroma of vinegar had started wafting up and making Orin's eyes water with his strength. So, Orin felt pretty confident as he removed his jars from their hiding places inside his pots that he'd done it right. There hadn't been all that much change in the color of the liquids. Orin untied the cheesecloth, and dipped a cautious spoon into each liquid. Orin tried to disturb the surface layer as little as possible. They tasted fine to Orin, so Orin re-tied the string around the two jars to hold the cheesecloth on it.

Orin took out his two smallest pots. Taking the apple cider vinegar, Orin turned it upside down. The vinegar started leaking through the cheesecloth and dripping into the pot. It was a relatively slow process but eventually Orin had emptied the bottle of all but the mother of vinegar. He took the cheesecloth off of the jars holding the mother of vinegar and what used to be the apple cider and poured what remained in the cider jar into the mother of vinegar. It really was as easy as the merchant had said it was. Orin washed out the cider jar thoroughly and put in back on the shelf with the other jam jars.

Orin searched around for two empty bottles to put his vinegar in. He found some in the pantry and brought them over to his kitchen. However, he paused as something else the merchant had told Orin floated through Orin's mind. The man had mentioned that after the vinegar had formed, there were still trace amounts of alcohol left over. But if Orin boiled it, then let it sit for about ten chimes or so at an increased temperature, under a boil but much higher than room temperature, then he'd get two positive effects. First, the alcohol would be removed. More importantly, the vinegar would be pasteurized and reduced, Orin thought the merchant had called it. All that Orin knew was that it supposedly let the vinegar stay good for longer and concentrated the taste. So Orin figured he should give it a try. He would start with the cider vinegar and if that worked he would use the more valuable white wine.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin put the pot of apple cider vinegar down. He had to build the fire up, and he needed both hands for that. He went to the log pile by the door. It was fairly well stocked, which Orin was thankful for. Otherwise, Orin knew he'd have to spend pretty much all day down by the forest hacking down old trees. While there was probably a communal stockpile that you could buy logs from, Orin didn't have a whole lot of disposable income. And it would be a waste of time and mighty suspicious of Orin was seen down by the Bronze Woods. Also, Orin only had limited freedom to do what he wanted since he was technically a ward of the Outpost. If Orin didn't want a babysitter, he'd keep himself to himself.

Gathering up an armload of logs and a handful of kindling, Orin returned to the hearth. He poked the coals back into life, then began layering kindling, twigs, and finally full logs as he went, until he had a blazing fire going. Before Orin heated up his vinegar, he wrapped his hands in cloth to prevent his hands from burning. He'd grabbed a lot of hot plates and pans and utensils before he'd learned to be careful and he had the scars to prove it. So, every time he might be grabbing anything hot, Orin protected his hands as best he could. Also, Orin set his hourglass, one of his most treasured possessions, at eye level. It measured out five chimes and Orin had started using it extensively in his more complicated dishes. Although Orin had gotten pretty accurate at counting seconds over the years after careful training, he still made mistakes and the hourglass was much more sure.

Finally, Orin was ready to begin. He placed the pan nearly, but not quite, in the fire. He waited there patiently, watching the vinegar closely. While there was a saying that a watched pot never boiled, in Orin's experience an unmatched pot tended to boil over and make a mess of everything, as well as ruin the food. So, he kept an eye on everything he was cooking. The first bubbles started up, and Orin tensed his muscles. However, it was almost another chime by Orin's reckoning when the bubbles stopped being sporadic and turned constant. At that point, Orin lifted the pot up slightly, to keep it at a simmer. At the same time, he flipped the hourglass over, and the sands started trickling through, one by one, making an ever increasing mound on the bottom. When the last one passed through, Orin flipped it over. The merchant had been very clear that ten chimes was the ideal wait time. The bubbles had been reduced to the summer Orin had been going for. His brow furrowed as he followed the hourglass with his eyes, and as soon as the time limit was up, he pulled the pot out of the fire as quickly as he could without spilling the vinegar. It was steaming slightly and Orin really hoped he hadn't just ruined it. He placed it on the mantelpiece to cool.

Bouncing up and down impatiently, Orin waited until the steam had stopped for a while, before he dipped a spoon in and sipped cautiously at it. It was hot but not enough to burn Orin's tongue. And the merchant had absolutely been right. The flavor now as compared to his earlier spoonful was much stronger, and the overall level of liquid hadn't decreased that much. So Orin was incredibly pleased. He could do more with less now. And that meant he would have to steal less alcohol from his guardians. So, all in all, Orin was happy with this revelation. He idly wondered what else this technique might work on and he was eager to try it out.

However, before Orin forgot, he had better transfer the pasteurized vinegar to its bottle. Gripping the pan's handle carefully Orin tipped it slowly, until the liquid was just at the edge. He brought the bottle up, and poured carefully. The tiniest amount spilled over the top and slid down the edges of the bottle. Orin managed to get almost all of it inside the bottle. He wiped it down and capped it, before sliding it to the back of his cooking supplies to hide.

[Orin Fenix]

Orin strained the white wine into a clean pot. He took off the cheesecloth, squeezed out a few more drops into the pot then tossed it aside. He put the leftover mother of vinegar into its jar and then tied the cheesecloth off on it and hid it away. Finally, Orin shoved the pot directly into the fire. Soon enough the white wine came to a boil and he picked it up until it fell into a simmer. He set his hourglass up and waited patiently for the second turnover to finish before removing the pot and leaving it. While it was cooling Orin bustled about and cleaned up the remainder of his mess, cleaning out the pot and the jars. Finally, he took the pot back up, and poured the vinegar at an even slower pace than before. This time there was no spillage and Orin grinned. He capped the bottle, and put it in a place of honor. He wasn't quite done with it for the day.

When the last pot was clean, Orin immersed the cheesecloth into hot water. He scrubbed at it until it turned a pristine white again, then took it and hung it to dry. Orin didn't have a lot of it, so he'd definitely have to reuse it if he was going to be experimenting any more. All that done, Orin was prepared for his next task.

He took out five eggs, a bowl, and one of his recently cleaned jars. He'd need three yolks for the mayonnaise he was planning to make, and he'd use the whites and the last two eggs as part of his lunch. Cracking the eggs on the rim of the bowl, Orin flipped the yolk from shell to shell until he'd gotten all the whites out that he could. The yolk went into the jar, quickly followed by two more. The other eggs were left alone for now as Orin washed his hands thoroughly.

The next part would be tricky. Orin had to make sure the proportions were just right, or close enough that they made no difference. He took out the precious bottles of olive oil and lemon juice and put them next to the white wine vinegar. He took a spoon and held it over the jar. Picking up the vinegar first, Orin filled the spoon and then dumped it in, twice. There was a tiny bit of a drip when Orin overestimated how much the spoon could hold, but it went in the jar and Orin didn't think a few drops would make a noticeable difference. He put in two spoonfuls of plain old water and the rare lemon juice. He then capped the two bottles he'd used and put them away. He'd been lucky that the family he was staying with liked their little luxuries enough to buy some of the more exotic sauces, juices, spices and ingredients that Orin would have never have had access to otherwise. Orin gave the mixture a good stirring until it all blended nicely together.

[Orin Fenix]

At this point Orin hesitated. He'd been using a jar because that's what he'd planned to hold the mayonnaise in, but he'd forgotten that he'd have to heat it. He had never made it before and it had been a long time since he’d seen the recipe, about a year. And Orin had never actually made it. In fact, Orin had never seen anyone make it or even heard of it. He discovered it when he been leafing through the cookbook that was the treasure of the last family he had stayed with. It had mostly been dishes that had been written down by the generations of men and women who had owned the book. But the gem that was mayonnaise had been tucked in there, on its own sheet of paper that was yellowed with age. Orin almost hadn’t been able to make out the letters but he’d puzzled it out eventually.

He’d committed the recipe to memory unsure when, if ever he’d be able to see it again. Sure enough, the family hadn’t let Orin close to it again, after that one time. In fact, it was only because it had been left out that Orin had seen it all. However, apparently his memory was a bit rusty since he’d almost forgotten that step. After all, not actually having thought about something much for a year would cause even the smartest person to run into a few hitches. Still, Orin had remembered, and now he had to figure out how to heat a jar without burning his hand. Orin went to dig through his various implements. He was despairing until he uncovered a pair of tongs at the bottom of the drawer. Pulling them out with a flourish, Orin used them to pick up the jar.

He inserted it into the fire and started his count. When he hit sixty, he took it out and held it while it cooled. Once it was at room temperature, which Orin tested by the age-old expedient of tapping it repeatedly with his hand until it wasn’t hot anymore, he sprinkled in salt and just a pinch of mustard. Then, Orin took up his olive oil. He began dribbling in the oil, stirring it every once and a while. It gradually thickened with every stir. It was actually fascinating to watch, as it became less liquid and more solid with every passing tick.

Finally, Orin stopped adding the oil when the substance had turned fully goopy. He thought that it was finally at the right consistency. Sealing the olive oil, Orin took his spoon and scooped up a mouthful of the sauce. Orin closed his eyes in ecstasy as soon as it hit his tongue. It was one of the best sauces that Orin had ever tasted. It was creamy and rich with a unique taste. Orin licked the spoon, trying to get every last drop he could. But, if he simply ate the jarful now without putting it on anything it would be a shame. So Orin reluctantly put the cap on and put the mayonnaise in the pantry. He’d put it on his meat at dinner, he decided. And on his meat at breakfast. And every other meal as well. Now, though Orin had some eggs to make. He cracked the last two eggs into the bowl and began whisking them happily. It was definitely a good day.

[Katelyn Marks]

Due Rewards

“After nourishment, shelter, and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.”

― Philip Pullman

 

Orin

Skills
➢ Planning +2
➢ Philtering +3
➢ Philosophy +1
➢ Brewing +2
➢ Organization +1
➢ Cooking +3
➢ Observation +3

Lores
➢ Philtering: Vinegar
➢ Brewing: Apple Cider Vinegar
➢ Cooking: Protecting Hands from Heat
➢ Cooking: Separating Egg Whites
➢ Cooking: Mayonnaise Recipe

Comments: Wonderful as usual! Your cooking threads are always a pleasure to read. It's no wonder you've almost mastered it. Keep up the good work.

If you have any concerns or questions about your rewards please feel free to send me a message. Also, please edit your original grade request and mark it as graded. Thank you and enjoy!