The head cook on the guest ranch I worked on was in her 70’s and planning to retire. As her apprentice I learned to cook family style for 110. My final exam was cooking Sunday night dinner for the new guests. The menu was always roast beef, baked potatoes, green beans, fresh baked rolls and homemade cherry pie. It was the most important meal of the week and when I proved that I could serve it successfully I became the head cook.
The baker and I spent almost all day in the kitchen on Sundays cooking breakfast and lunch for the staff and preparing for dinner. When the pies were cooling, the rolls were rising and the roasts and potatoes were in the ovens, we finally got a much needed break. I knew something had gone terribly wrong one Sunday evening when I went back to the kitchen. The room felt cold and there was no delicious smell of roasting meat coming from the ovens. I forgot to turn them on when I put the roasts in.
Just then the ranch owner came in to check on dinner. He stopped short then started flinging open the oven doors and pulling the raw roasts out. He yelled for me to bring him the large knife and turn the ovens on as high as they could go. Slicing the roasts in half he threw them back in the ovens and told me to cut the time on the potatoes before he slammed out the door. Everyone had a choice between well done and rare meat and the potatoes were a combination of crunchy and mushy. If it wasn’t for the fact that our baker made the best homemade rolls and cherry pies in the world the entire meal would have been a disaster. The owner apologized to the new guests and explained that there had been a problem with the ovens allowing me to save face during the staff introductions after dinner. He never said anything to me about what happened and I never left the kitchen after the roasts went in again.
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