Living In The Big House Part 3

Chapter 213-2

Living In The Big House

Part 3

 

The cabin was noisy once everyone came home, by that time Eli and I had finished making all the beds, but none of the girls had come back. Then again we are talking girls who could spend all day in the salon getting their hair done and nails manicured. However, I am sure the owner of the shop was raking it in today and mostly closed up their shop to give our girls the presidential treatment.  That was ok with us because we sent Dotty on her way, so we guys could cook our ladies a fine meal, as well as everyone that was coming to dinner tonight Dad and Mr. Vincent, liked the idea that every Friday night we would all get together for dinner here instead of going to a fancy restaurant, plus we had the room and they didn’t.

We had long abandoned the waist robes and put on some play clothes instead since we were working around the house, which was more practical. True we could done them naked, but nobody else was they were either wearing long warm robes or fully clothed, it was winter after all and chores still needed to be done like, making sure we had enough firewood and are farm animals and food and water and eggs were collected from our chickens. Plus taking care of the household chores so the place looked good for tonight when everyone was coming over. Including making sure all the dinnerware was clean and polished and the table clothes had been ironed.

Dad wanted Mr. Vincent and Bishop Earl wanted all us boys to do the work instead of the girls. Now that I was home, the only male in the house that knew his way around a kitchen. Dad told me it would be good practice for me to know how to run a kitchen and manage people. That part he was more comfortable with, the cooking part he had just conceded that it wasn’t that bad after all when he actually got inside look thanks to Stringum showing him that being a Chef was a lot more than just cooking. It’s about timing and management, Something I had a real knack for. Now that it wasn’t just a hobby like he had first thought.  

Dotty only gave us one warning which was. “Please don’t burn “my” kitchen down,” and. “Are you sure you are up to the task of feeding us all?”

Dad said. “Not to worry Dotty; Eric will be in charge of the kitchen.”

She looked at me and said. “Yea right?” Teasing me knowing I was quite capable of making sure that didn’t happen. Plus she knew I was an excellent cook, which went a long way. She knew fifty people to me with the right menu were not such a big deal when I had the help to do it. She was just a little concerned because of the rest them that were helping me, wondering if they were up to the task, not me.

I took charge the moment Dotty left slipping on an apron, quickly planned a menu for tonight. I had a whole list of recipes I wanted to try, one was street corn on the cob, and lasagna, Dad told me I could do anything I wanted if we didn’t have in the house he makes sure I had it. The lasagna idea everyone liked… who wouldn’t it was simple, well at least the way I make it. Mom was big on canning so sometimes used that to my advantage grabbing the biggest pots I could find which five twenty quart pans. After all, I was feeding 50 people, including our girls.

Dad would send Mr. Vincent to the store to buy everything I needed which was corn on the cob, 150 ears to be exact, lots of cheese mozzarella and cheddar and 6 tubs cottage instead of feta; after we calculated everything. We scarped the idea of lasagna and went for prime rib, baked foiled potatoes, and Mexican Street corn, a green salad and Moms homemade wheat rolls and homemade carrot cake. That alone was enough work for us and it was fancy enough that we could do and get without any problem on short notice.

I gave the list to Mr. Vincent said he’d be back in an hour or so with everything we needed… it gave us nearly 6 hours to put our menu together and get our house ready long before the girls and our new guest came home Mr. Larson had to be down at the doctor office at 4 for his physical and get it his hair cut. With his boys and so they all could look nice tonight for the girls and for their pictures that would be on their membership card.

I had most of it in the house like potatoes, and foil sheets, and all the makings for the salad and rolls, so I handed out everyone’s duties. I told Mr. Vincent if he couldn’t find the corn too just pick up 2 fifty pound bags of carrots.  And we make candy carrots instead. I had enough carrots to start with for the salad and other things like radishes and purple cabbage and what not. He gave me a military solute, put on his coat and dashed out the door.

Being a large family or should I say 3 families living in one great big cabin, requires us to by in bulk. So most of everything I had we kept in the cellar and in our walk-in pantry. I would have killed to have a big industrial kitchen. Yet at that time I had never really worked in one other than the school lunchroom. Where they have great big kettles the size a small child could fit in one. Or great big mixers that were as tall as an average person. Or shredder that could attach to the mixer, instead of doing it by hand with a manual cheese grater.

No. what I had was normal size equipment, the only thing big was our ovens and stove-tops, and our fridge which had been upgraded to industrial size so it wouldn’t take three houses to cook everything in small batches, Dad had told me they had a walk-in freezer and fridge downstairs that Dotty usually does all the ordering, and we have delivery truck that comes to the house once a week.

I took his word for it for now, because there were no windows down there. Plus if the lights went out it would be pitch black. Instead, I sent them to fetch everything as I stayed upstairs, where it was safe and had plenty of light. I knew sooner or later I needed to learn to get over this fear, of being locked in a basement, it gave my father total control of my fears.

Dad said in time I would, and that I had already come a long way in regards to basements. Before I couldn’t even take 3 steps without a panic attack, now I could do all the way and as long as there were windows I could see out and plenty of light I was fine. It was the total darkness I had the problem with. He said everyone’s afraid of something. Mine was basements and fish; more so live fish. Not so much anymore, because I have worked with them enough in restaurants.

Yet if I had a choice which I do now, I avoid them and eliminate the idea over eating them. the smell alone makes me gag, Halibut is the worst I have chef coats today that still smell of Halibut after cutting 200 pounds a day 7 days a week. It’s been at least 15 or 20 years when I had quit working in restaurants and they still smell of it. I have washed, bleached them, hoping I would get the smell out, but it still just as strong as it was 20 years ago.  

I put the boys on potato duty and washing all the lettuce, I knew Mom and it said we went through cases loads, which required a large freezer and fridge to store it all, also a lot of dry storage as well using number 10 cans and large bulk sizes. The first thing I always do is the hard stuff first or the stuff that takes the longest which was bread dough. I used Dotty’s recipe because to us it was the best rolls we had ever eaten, and easy to make.

I started with that first because it needed time to work and rise, work and rise again. Everything else was just prep work. Mr. Vincent was gone for a little less than an hour, he said he likes having the large construction crew down at the bottom of the hill with their own industrial kitchen which is basically a kitchen on wheels and we had our own butcher shop in town. He stole what they had in stock I needed. 

He had the boys carry in the groceries which looked like it could feed army he said. “Sorry no corn on the cob, they can get it, but wouldn’t be until the next delivery which would be Monday.” Which was a good thing I had a plan B as he put 2 fifty pounds of carrots on the counter and quickly removed his coat and shoes setting them by the door and quickly cleaned up the mess before Dotty or our wives saw it? Carrots were easy all I had to do was peel and cut.

I was pretty good with knife work. I never trusted anyone with my knives, and mostly because I was afraid they cut themselves. I was taught in class that a good Chef always has his own set and never, ever lets anyone borrow them because they would either cut themselves or ruin them, they were expensive besides which I paid for out of my own pocket which at the time 500 dollars including the nice case it came with. So once the potatoes were done I set them to the side and had the boys peel them and place them in a five-gallon bucket of cold water.

Mr. Vincent teased Dad about me being so good in the kitchen. Dad took it by saying. “I tried to talk him out of it, but the problem was, he was just so darn good at it that my stomach overruled me. Besides if it wasn’t for him, there no way I could cook a dinner for my wife, I’d burn the kitchen down and then she would kill me.” Which was true, Dad was very bad when it comes to kitchen work, so bad Mom wouldn’t let him even near a stove.

Dad had no problem with me telling him what to do like kneading and working the bread with his great big hands as made sure he didn’t over knead it or use to much flour. It seemed not that long ago he would have refused to because he considered cooking as woman’s work. Now he takes every chance he gets to help out, mostly I think it is because it brings him closer to Mom and my sisters. But with my sisters gone, it was just us boys and he required all of us to pitch in and help.

Mostly because the LDS Church stated the boys going on a mission should be prepared in everything, that the mission field isn’t the place to learn domestic things like cooking, house cleaning, and laundry; that most boys being sent, can’t even sew on button or have learned how to wash or iron their own clothes or cook, other than opening a can.

It was then Dad stepped back and made a decision that every boy in his house was going to become domesticated, including learning how to type. True I still did a lot of man things, compared to woman’s work, but he doesn’t ride me anymore after that learning he was stuck in the dark ages. He still had a problem with women in some areas regarding sports or the military, even male nurses.

Yet he was willing to adapt and learn and move on. Of course, he draws the line of men becoming cross dresser and gay men period he couldn’t believe that long ago in Shakespeare time that men played roles in plays as a woman sometimes. Even my grandmother had problems with that, which was understandable.

Yet unlike her Dad had no problem with black people, or race our culture of people. Whereas my grandmother wouldn’t shake hands or walk into a person’s house that wasn’t white. She’d have a nuclear meltdown if she knew that we had a black man in the presidency running our country. She had no taste for Martin Luther King, the only thing she agreed on that no one should be a slave, or be owned by anybody, but she wanted no part of them. My father too had a hard time with it. But for me, I didn’t care, about what color or what ethnic background a person, to me they were just people the same as me.

The easiest thing was putting everything in the oven and set the time when things need to go into the ovens and needed to be pulled out. I put the meat in first because it took longer to cook. We had four ovens total in our kitchen two wall ovens and to stove top ovens capable of holding big pans like in a large industrial kitchen. I used two for the meat placing four prime ribs two in each pan, well seasoned. And the last two to do all my baking like cake, bread, and potatoes in that order; because it would take a lot of cake to make for 50 people one slice doesn’t work around here or one roll.

We didn’t use little boxes of Betty Crocker that you would buy in a normal grocery store we used large boxes of general mills generic cake mixes, and big counter top mixer. And two large sheet cake pans with plastic skirting around the sides so when the cake was down and cooled all we had to do was frost the carrot cake with a homemade sour cream frosting. And cut instead of scooping it out of normal cake pan.

In the meantime, while the cake and rolls were in the oven after making sure my team made the rolls all the same size. Using a scale, for each roll to make them all uniform, just the way I was taught in school and from Mom and Dotty. Knowing close doesn’t count, unless you are just baking bread to use as bread crumbs so you can bread things, for other recipes. Nothing goes to waste, counting 300 rolls divide by fifty, that I can get on a large sheet pan equaled 6 pans total, plus one 1 pan for potatoes and 2 pans for the cakes.

Dad smiled as I loaded up everything in order of the cooking time. One thing about being the Chef and I had plenty of helpers. I didn’t have to do the dishes or clean up the kitchen. Instead I worked on my last item as the house began to smell of our tasty efforts, of freshly baked bread, homemade carrot cake from a box adding fresh carrots, nuts and raisins, and slow cooking of prime rib with the bone because it was cheaper and we can use the ribs for another meal during the week.

They cleaned up and I cut up the carrots, giving poor Mr. Randal and Mr. Larson a glazed look as they heard and saw me cut up 100 pounds of carrots in 40 minutes and dumping them into 3- 20 quart pans letting them waiting for me to simmer on the stove. Now if I was in an industrial kitchen I would have steamed them for 15 minutes. We didn’t have one so I had to do it the old fashion way, boiling water.

Dad had the boys set up the big long tables in the dining room, partway into the living room. Dotty came into the house with three hours too spare as if she didn’t trust us, as Dad was moping the floor. She smiled at us as she checked the temperatures and all our hard work and kissed me on both cheeks, said. “It so good to have you home,”

The men gave a hurt look, so she patted their cheeks, and said. “What? I am only giving credit where it is due,” and rubbed my head messing up my hair, said. “Call me if you need any help, but I think you got everything under control, so I am going to take a nice long hot bath; before the mayhem starts,” walked down the hall with her nice evening dress in her hands peeked around the corner at me and Eli. “You better it get out of those clothes boys before your wives come home, they said nothing but a waist robe said you were being punished for being gone so long and unable to satisfy their hunger,” then giggled. “All these boys here and all they wanted were you two. Go figure?”

I couldn’t go far from the kitchen because the cakes were almost done and I had two more sets of rolls that need to go into the ovens. I checked the time noting it was a little after 3:30 dinner was roughly at 6 or 6.30, and there was nothing more I could do other than cook and time things until then so I sent Eli down to take a quick shower and put on a waist robe, not wanting to disappoint our wives when they came through the door. Dad said. “I got this; just tell me what to do so you can spend some time with your brothers. They have been begging me to let you bathe them the moment you came home.”

I nodded taking the rolls out setting the last set in and said. “Rolls need to come out in 30, minutes or so and pull them out when they are golden brown but not before, so they all look like these and butter the tops set to cool. Pull the cake out in 15 minutes, set to cool. The frosting is in the fridge, but don’t put on until the cakes have cooled for at least hour if they are still warm don’t frost them or the frosting will melt and ruin them.  Potatoes in the oven by 4 30 no sooner and no later then 5 or they won’t have time to cook and if too soon they will get too cold.

“Carrots turn on medium at 4:30 to simmer, medium if any higher they boil over. Leave the meat to me, it doesn’t need to come out until 5 or five thirty so they can rest and I can remove the bones.”  Dad posted notes on each of the items and the appliances. I said. “Don’t you dare touch the temperatures, thinking if you turn them up to speed the cooking time? It will only burn everything and still be uncooked in the middle.”

Mr. Larson said. “Something I very much aware of, but I think we men can handle it.”

I said “Yea Right? That’s why Dotty is going to make sure of it.”

As I watched her come around the corner and said. “You got that right,” Dad and the other fathers looked hurt. She said. “I’ll just sit on the couch and mind my own damn business and make sure you don’t burn anything.” The boys didn’t need my help to set the table, not with Dotty overseeing things, as she sent the Vincent boys with me saying I could bathe them as well and get them ready for dinner. Reminding Eli and me that we can’t put on anything unless is waist robe until our wives say we can. They each gave arm pump with a resounding yes. I chose my room, stopping in theirs picking out their clothes for tonight.

Dad wanted us all to dress nice because it dates night in a sense, the only difference was we weren’t going out to fancy dinner, not in a snowstorm expected sometime tonight. So far it has been steady off on in flurries, but not really adding to anything. With us being in the mountains at high altitude it would be worse for us then it would be for those in the valley. By then everyone would be on their way home back to their cabins and trailers. Hopefully, but being close to home it really wouldn’t matter too much. Plus Mr. West kept our roads plowed and salted.

I was told he had hired a crew of ten men to make sure that happened. So he wouldn’t have to be up all night and all day clearing the roads so the construction crews can work and so we could go back and forth without having to worry about getting stuck. He also signed a contract with the town of Heber to keep Main Street cleared and some… if not all the major parking lots. For him, it was his bread and butter and he liked doing it. I had yet to see Stringum since I had been back, but I was told he was coming for dinner.

I ran the tub, making sure the boys put their robes into the hamper. All our robes had our names printed inside so Dotty or whoever was doing the wash would know whose clothes they were even though most of them were screen painted telling her and everyone who they belonged too. Dotty had already had our guests marked each there clothes and every room had two hampers that said clothes only, and towels only which included our robes if they were white underling white only. To save time from sorting colors and whites, and we placed our socks into the milk crate.

Mom was cleaver by finding a use of fishnet material that comes in several colors, putting a third hamper or simple milk create just for our socks. All our boxers were marked with our names on it, the moment they came home from the store she would have us mark them. Yet all us boys wore white socks and all had the same size so we always wore each other's socks without even knowing about it.

Not a big deal when once they have been washed. She saved time by putting all our socks into these mesh bags and closed them shut with simple drawstring and tossed the bags into the washer then when washed she tossed them into the dryer. She only sorted what was in each of the bags and dumped the socks into our collective sock drawer that was only for socks. It saved time having to sort them and guess whose socks belong to whom. She did the same with the girls labeling them which bag that belonged to each girl.

Mom made it clear to our wives they would be responsible for washing our clothes and keeping our room clean. We would help of course, because we were their husbands. They were teaching us responsibility, by giving us a portion of our share of the cost for food, and the utilities. Just like everyone else in the house that were married and lived in the house.

We all had jobs that paid the rent each month, it wasn’t a lot but every bit helps. Susan and Becky even my mother couldn’t believe that my own adoptive parents would make us pay for sleeping and eating under our own roof as if we were living on our own in some college dorm.

We didn’t complain because it was only fair if we wanted to be considered adults, besides we would be 18 soon enough. Then again they believed everything should be given to them on a silver platter and everyone else should fit the bill. My sisters at the time truly believed that once they married their prince charming, that they wouldn’t have to have the struggles of real life. Because their husband would be rich and they would have the life of luxury the moment they are married.

Not this idea that they might need a job or the schooling to get it. I laugh because, in the end, they aren’t the ones laughing anymore. Finding out the world doesn’t work that way. They only have themselves to blame and our parents, for teaching them or ignoring the fact that their own friends told them how unrealistic they were being. Yet they had this golden goose dream, and nothing was going to change that. 

I had my own responsibility’s which included taking care of my brothers and the Vincent’s boys. I had signed a contract that when I was available I would be held responsible for that contract I wouldn’t get paid. I needed the money to support myself and my wife. So I didn’t hesitate as I bathed, and giving them what they wanted which was time with me so we could show each other how much we loved each other.