Still chuckling, she headed down the hallway.
As soon as she walked in the kitchen, Gerard looked at her and smiled. “Now that’s an interesting look on your face.”
“Why is that?” she asked, not really understanding what was on his mind. But, then again, it was Gerard after all.
“You like him,” he said.
She looked at him in surprise. “What’s not to like?” she said. “The guy has survived over thirty surgeries. I’d like anybody who was still finding a way forward after being as patchworked and pieced-together as he is. If nothing else, I like his grit.”
“And that’s something you’ve always admired, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said. “I admire anybody who deals with adversity and still gets up.”
“Because you have done so too,” he said with a nod.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t you have something better to do?”
“Better than teasing you? No,” he said with a laugh. “But I am sitting here, wondering what I want to do with the pasta. I made a lot.”
“I was wondering, as I walked back down, about using half of it today and letting the other half dry out a couple days to be used later.”
“You know something? That’s not a bad idea. I wouldn’t be at all unhappy to try some more fresh pasta next week—or maybe some raviolis.”
“I’m up for that too,” she said. “I think I’ll make some fresh bread this morning. Maybe a double-baked Swiss loaf.” Putting down her cup, she grabbed a big bowl and starting measuring ingredients.
“I still don’t understand how you can keep all those recipes in your head,” he said, as he watched her.
She smiled, adding the yeast and just enough warm water, plus a dab of sugar, to proof before measuring the flour, and she had a ball of dough quickly mixed up. She tossed it from the bowl onto the marble counter and kneaded it. “I’ve probably got enough here for what, six loaves?” She thought about it and then took a knife, cut it into multiple long loaves, and said, “It’s not very much for breakfast. I guess what I probably should have done was double that.”
“Not necessarily,” he said. “We always have so much variety at breakfast that not everybody even wants bread.”
She nodded. “Then maybe we’ll add some raisins and butter to this loaf.”
He immediately snatched up another one and said, “Let’s have cranberries and walnuts in this one.”
Together, the two of them laughed as they created several breakfast rolls, instead of the double-baked Swiss bread she had started with. The other breads still used the same basic foundation recipe, but she could do so much more with these. By the time they finished adding lemon peel and extra butter to the last one, they had all six stretched out to rise, each a good two feet long.
Other staff members were coming in, and two were in the back, already cooking the bacon for breakfast. The ham would go on next; then the sausages would work their way onto the big grill. Pancakes still had to be done. Then, of course, the eggs and all the extras.
Dennis walked in just then, following his nose, smelling the coffee. “Wow. Every time you have espresso,” he said, “it’s like a hit to my heart, and it makes me smile.”
“It’s a weird way of smiling,” she said.
He walked past the open storeroom, stopped, and then whistled. “Man, I hope that’s for lunch,” he said. “I sure want some.”
“See?” Gerard said. “Everybody wants fresh pasta.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Ask her who she delivered coffee to this morning,” Gerard said, nudging Dennis.
He turned and looked at her in surprise. “You delivered coffee?”
At his tone, she fisted her hands on her hips. “And what if I did?”
He immediately held up his hands to ward off any comments and stepped back in mock terror.
She just sighed. “What is it about guys and gals?”
“Well, that’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Gerard said, “because you delivered coffee to a guy, and you came back with a special smile on your face.”
She groaned. “Oh, my God, you two. The guy just got here, and he’s had a raw deal. He was awake, so I offered him coffee. End of subject.” But she watched Gerard and Dennis nudge each other, laughing like schoolboys. “Maybe you two would want to get some work done, huh? Everything ready for breakfast?” she asked, heading over to the latest arrival. “Need you to step up on the juices, if you don’t mind, and make sure the coolers are stocked.”
Dennis called over to her, “I just came in to get a dozen juice bottles, but I’ll fill the big cooler instead, and we’ve got to get the coffee going. Are people out there now?”
“Yeah, I’ve got six. I did a small pot for them and then refilled it, but we’ll have a bunch more now, so let’s get the big coffeemakers going.”
And with the hustle-and-bustle happening in the kitchen with breakfast preparation, before long the rush was to get everything out on time and then, of course, to feed everybody. She stepped in the back of the cafeteria line and kept watch to make sure there was enough and that everything went smoothly. It was weird how one day the big run was on eggs, the next day no sausage would be left, then a few days would go by, and it seemed like nobody was even hungry at all, but then not a slice of bacon was left in the building.
By the time breakfast was over, everybody was happy and settled, the dishes were well in hand, if not done, and they were already prepping for lunch. She had several roasts in the oven, and she left Gerard to deal with the pasta. She would do up a huge roasted veggie platter, so the preparation was underway for that.
“I want something with fish,” she said to one of her guys. “What can we do that we haven’t done lately?”
“How about we roll it up in parmesan and add a bit of a lemon zest to it.”
She looked at him in surprise. Sammy hadn’t been with her very long, but he had some really good ideas. “You know how to do it?”
He looked at her in surprise and then slowly nodded.
“Good, you’re it,” she said. When he hesitated, she looked at him and said, “Questions?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I get that I’m it, but I don’t know how much to do.”
She thought about that for a moment and said, “Let’s do twenty pounds.” She walked with him into the freezer, and they pulled out fillets. By the time she had what she thought was a perfect amount, and they had them laid out on cookie sheets to thaw properly, he was already preparing the breading for them.
“Remember. Not too strong,” she cautioned. “Lots of touchy tummies around here.”
“I know,” he said, “but it’s a really good recipe.”
“Sounds like it,” she said, “and we also have to make sure that, when we fry them up, it’s not greasy.”
He hesitated before he said, “We could do it in the oven. That would be faster.”
“Wouldn’t necessarily be as tasty though, correct?”
He grinned with relief. “No, that’s exactly it.”