Day One-Twenty-Eight: A cook's life is a glamorous affair

Hi.

It's Robert again. The Cook, not the Librarian.

I wish they would make it so there's only one person per name in a place. That should be a law. It gets so confusing being Robert, because by my count there are at least seven other Roberts in Castle HairGrowingBack. There's me, the librarian, a guard, a royal guard, a maid (she must have had stupid parents), a noble, a candle maker and there's a labourer named Rob. I don't know if he counts. Seven and a half Roberts?

I guess I have to talk about my day now. It's the same as every day. I get up before the sun rises, I bang on the doors of my assistants until they come out, they get the food, I start making breakfast for everyone. Once everyone's left the Beefiary I experiment with the leftovers to see if I can make anything better. Eventually the king shows up with that big hood he's wearing lately, and he eats whatever I make.

I wish he would let me make some other stuff. He usually likes my experiments. Why can't everyone else share in my inventions?

After that I keep serving food and beer and stuff to anyone who comes in. By this time the nobles are usually sending in orders from their apartments, so I prepare whatever they want and send out my staff to deliver the food. Sometimes it arrives, sometimes it doesn't. I got yelled at last week by Driscol the Count because his soufflé didn't get to him on time… he's lucky I made one in the first place, I'm not supposed to go fancy for anyone but the king.

He IS right that I shouldn't have to limit my menu, though…

To cook is to suffer. Yeah. Is that fancy enough for you, Dragomir?

Eventually I get to dinner, which is more of the same stuff from breakfast and lunch, and then after that I keep an eye on the place until closing time in the early evening. After that my assistants give out late night snacks and beer, and deal with that goblin ambassador. He gets drunk almost every night in my Beefiary. Always smells like a pile of puke in the morning. Somebody needs to deal with that guy.

I guess that's my day. Every day. Was that exciting?

Although there is something I can share with you, Dragomir's diary: I've got a secret planned. Every year I make Dragomir something special for his birthday, and even though we still have a few weeks to wait I know what I'm going to prepare. I'll need his help to get it, of course, but he won't mind - because the food isn't the secret. He'll be so surprised.

Oh yeah, Dragomir's still in a coma. How long do those things last?

Yeah. That's long enough. Writing hurts my wrists. Why both, I don't know.

Sincerely,

Robert the Cook