"Press?”
"Of course, not much point in a grand opening if no one knows about it eh?” Therese pointed out.
When you put it like that, "I guess not.”
"Don’t look like that, Gabs,” Con grinned, "It’ll hardly be Stern and Bild will it?”
"It’s only the local stuff,” Therese confirmed.

I don’t even know where my press paranoia comes from, well it’s probably the girl hunt after the Munich wedding, I had money on my head, probably still have thinking about it. There wasn’t anything else the three of us could do so after our coffee we cleared up and departed. The Thesing’s dropped me off at home then went to get the flyers – folding them will be our job in the morning.

"Good morning?” Mum asked when I sloped into the kitchen.
"Define good.”
"Well did you get everything, you were going to the cash and carry right?”
"Yeah, Penny with bigger boxes,” I allowed pouring myself a glass of lemonade.
"All set for Monday then?”
"Just about, we’re gonna go up Sunday to practice with the fryers and stuff.”
"I thought you’d done that the other week?”
"Well not really, we did cook but that was really all about prep and cleaning.”
"You need some testers?”
"Didn’t think you were into fast food?”
"I can make exceptions when my daughter’s doing the cooking.”
"Anything so you don’t have to.”
"I was going to do a roast on Sunday.”
Hmm, Sunday roast, "All the trimmings?”
"I should think so, you could invite Max?”
"Why would I do that?”
"He has been helping your Dad up at the kiosk, just thought it would be a nice thank you.”

Ooo, she can be so reasonable! How can I nix the idea now she’s played the guilt card.

"Alright, I'll invite him, he might be working though,” hopefully.
"Wilhelm doesn’t open on Sundays.”
Damn, "Oh yeah.”
"So what’s your agenda for the rest of the day?”
"Working tonight.”
"Up at the Weinstube?”
"Yeah, load of tourists from England again.”
"Ironic really.”
"Yeah,” I agreed, "They come all the way over here and half the staff are English, so much for their authentic experience.”
Mum chuckled, "It’s a wonder Helmut hasn’t got you doing the old thigh slapping thing.”
"Don’t tempt him,” I mentioned in horror.
"I think it’s only the men do that,” Mum offered in conciliation.

The phone rang for best part of a minute before Max picked up, “von Strechau.”
“Max.”
"Gab?”
"Well duh, who else would be on my phone?”
"You aren’t on your Handy.”
"I'm not?” of course I'm not, stupid moo, I'm on the house phone, not gonna use my call time when I'm at home. "Just testing.”
"So what’s up, liebchen?”
"Up? Oh nothing really, Mum’s doing an English roast Sunday, you’re invited.”
"With the Yorkshires pudding?”
"Yorkshire,” I automatically corrected, "The works she said.”
"Yes please,” he enthused, "Will there be dessert?”
Damn, "Should think so.”

It never ceases to amaze me that for a nation with such a wide range of indigenous menu options that they are so inept at some basics. They can’t do proper gravy, mash potato, pies, puddings, proper chips or even custard, we could’ve won the war by just doing them a roast dinner. Okay, I enjoy plenty of German cuisine but I still hanker for steak and kidney pud, bread and butter pud and even sausage and mash.

"Gab?”
“Eh?”
"What time?”
"Time? Two?” I suggested.
"Great, I'll be there.”

"Did you ring Max?” Mum asked as Mand pinned my hair up.
"Two o’clock,” I replied.
"That should be okay, I take it you’re going to the kiosk in the morning?”
"Think that's the plan.”
"You girls riding up?”
"Yeah, Dad can have a drink.”
"Thank you for permission,” Dad stated joining us in the kitchen.
"I, I...”

"What was that about?” Mand asked as we kicked off down the drive.
"What?”
“Max.”
“Max?” Con queried.
"Gab’s been on the phone with him.”
"Ha, knew it!” Connie crowed.
"It’s not like that,” I protested.
"So what is it like?” Mand asked.
“Mum’s doing a roast on Sunday, she wanted me to invite him.”
"Oh yeah,” Con’s tone lacked belief.
"You should come too,” I suggested on impulse, safety in numbers.

"Ah you’re here girls,” Helmut greeted as we parked our steeds by the Wein kellar entrance.
"Hi, Mr S, everything okay?”
"Not exactly, Eva’s badly sprained her wrist so Ingrid’s in the kitchen on her own.”
"She alright?” Con asked.
"Pia’s supposed to be helping but you know Pia,” he shrugged.
Yeah, not exactly Jamie Oliver.
"I could help,” I volunteered.
"Yeah, Gabs is an ace cook,” Con added.
"It would be a great help,” Herr Sebenschuh allowed.

"Thanks, Gab,” Ing told me as we set too with preparing dinner for fifty, well fifty two if you include the driver and host with them.
“’S okay, I'll be doing catering at college after all. So how did your mum do her wrist?”
"Tried to catch one of the big pans that was slipping off the drainer, shoulda left it.”
“Empty?”
"Oh yeah, we were washing out for tonight.”

Economies of scale are double edged, clearly preparation takes more time but cooking doesn’t so you have to plan cooking time so you don’t get swamped when it comes to plating up.

"Thirty minutes,” Helmut told us through the kitchen servery.
“’Kay.”

"Hello again,” Julia greeted as she trailed her passengers into the restaurant.
"Welcome,” Helmut replied, "You are having good weather.”
"Thankfully, they’ve had two days of rain on the Dolomite trip.”
"All those mountains,” Sebenschuh suggested, "I'll get one of the girls to get you some coffee.”
"Thanks.”

The Global host looked around for the tiny girl she’d met last time, the one that Chris found so interesting.

"Coffee?” Manda suggested arriving at the crew’s table.
"Thank you, Julia and Phil,” Julia supplied.
"Amanda.”
"From Croydon right?”
"How did you know?”
"Your friend told me last time, she not working tonight?”
"So high, looks like an angel?”
Phil chuckled, "Sounds like the one.”
"Gabs, she’s in the kitchen tonight, we’re a bit short tonight.”
"Tell her hi.”
"Sure.”

I mopped my brow, the kitchen has got pretty warm despite the open door and extractors working overtime, "That it?”
"Just the drivers,” Mand mentioned through the hatch.
"Bum, hang on,” I pulled another couple of bowls out, "You got bread there?”
"Yeah, the girl, Julia said hi by the way.”
“’Kay, there you go,” I slid the soup across the counter, "I'll try to pop out later.”
"Ta.”

Of course there’s no break for the kitchen staff, I checked the Schweinhaxe in the ovens before setting out the tureens for the Sauerkraut and boiled potato’s – the same meal that’s been supplied on the previous Global visits.

"You alright, Gab?” Ing asked rejoining me after a stint on the bar while I sorted the soup.
"Can you put out the taters,” I requested.
"How’re the ‘haxe?”
"Look ready, I started the glaze.”

As if it wasn’t hot enough already, the addition of steam from the vegetables made things damp too. One thing’s for sure my uniform will most definitely need cleaning after this evening. With the tureens filled and out for distribution our attention moved to the meat content.

"Right, I've got the ovens if you do the plating,” Ingrid proposed.
"On it.”

By the time we had the first tray of pork knuckles on plates the others were returning soup bowls and distributing dishes of potatoes and cabbage. I spooned glaze over the meat by which time the next tray was on its way from the oven, a never ending circle of activity. Once the main course was out, the dirty crockery was loaded into the washer and we could have two minutes – thankfully the berry compote was already dished in the day fridge, the Sebenschuh's had got that done before Eva’s accident.

"Looks like we’ve cracked it,” I suggested.
"Thanks to you.”
"Team effort,” I stated.
"Well it might not have gone as well with my sister in here. I'll get the coffee started if you can get the desserts out.”

I can do that.

Maddy Bell © 28.02.17