The kitchen is very large.
The kitchens of nobles were very large.
The kitchens of ordinary nobles were usually capable of accommodating more than three hundred people.
Clegane Castle doesn't usually receive many guests, and it rarely hosts other nobles. The fact that it only has one chef indicates that it's not a welcoming place and shows that Gregor Clegane is extremely unpopular.
But Gregor's kitchen was still large enough to easily accommodate two hundred people for a meal.
Mrs. Allen appeared calm on the surface, but was uneasy inside, as she followed Gregor into the kitchen.
She and her husband, Alan, had never worked in the kitchen before.
If Lord Gregor enjoys engaging in sexual activity in the kitchen, she has no choice but to accept it.
Her husband's two younger brothers had been assigned to the mining corps, her seven-year-old son Andy Sallet had become an apprentice to Maester Harry, her elderly parents and other family members had become servants at Criggon Castle, some were assigned to the stablemaster, some to the servicemaster, some to the cook's helper, some to the chicken coop, some to the livestock pen, and she herself seemed to have fallen under Lord Gregor's command.
Mrs. Allen was only worried that her body couldn't keep up with Gregor's energy. He was a huge body that women feared, and it was rumored that his two first wives had been tortured to death by him.
Gregor noticed Mrs. Allen's nervousness and her desperate attempt to conceal her fear.
The woman smiled, but she was actually terrified.
This is a mature woman who is quite attractive.
But Gregor had no intention of taking advantage of the woman.
Even the king wasn't safe; he had people around him who would taste the food before serving it. If nothing was wrong, the king would eat it. Food and wine sent by ministers and from foreign lands were also tasted by these same people first.
Rabbits don't eat the grass near their burrows because they need the grass there to protect their burrows from predators.
To live a safer and longer life in this world, you must treat those around you well and earn their gratitude and loyalty, just like Polliver.
"Madam, open this lid," Gregor said, pointing to a wooden lid.
"Yes, sir!"
Mrs. Allen opened the lid and saw a jar full of salt.
Yellow salt!
Mrs. Allen was very familiar with this salt; it was mined from the mountains, and everyone used it. Mrs. Allen's family also used this salt. Her husband was a knight, and their life was considered wealthy among the locals.
"Open the lid next to it."
"Yes, sir."
Next to the salt jar was another large earthenware jar, covered with an identical wooden lid.
Mrs. Allen lifted the lid and saw a jar full of snow-white liquid.
"What is this, sir?"
In the light of the red candles, as thick as a child's arm, on the wall, the snow-white surface had a faint reflection.
"Salt!"
"Salt?" Mrs. Allen exclaimed in surprise.
"Salt! Snow Salt! The name given by Duke Tywin."
"My lord, I have never seen Snow Salt before."
"Try it!"
"Yes, sir!"
The salt is very salty, and it tastes bitter when eaten raw.
Mrs. Allen dipped her finger in the salt, then licked it off her tongue.
The salt was indeed very salty, but it didn't taste bitter.
Mrs. Allen suddenly remembered that the dishes and soup she had eaten and drunk that evening had no bitter or astringent taste from the salt. Because she had been so tense and afraid of the Mountain, she had overlooked the unusual taste of the food.
Salt: the king of all flavors, the first among all flavors.
"Madam, would you be willing to do me a favor?"
"...As you wish, my lord..."
"I would like to ask you to be the steward of my kitchen, in charge of producing snow salt for us Cleganes. I will also send some to the great nobles of the Westerlands in installments."
Mrs. Allen felt a little short of breath, and the legendary Mountain suddenly spoke to her in honorific language.
"...As you wish, my lord..."
"Okay, I'll teach you how to turn this yellow salt, bitter salt, and astringent salt into our snow salt. The technique is very simple, but I need you to swear to keep it a secret."
"...I swear on the honor of the Saloth family and in the name of the Seven Gods..." Mrs. Allen raised her right hand and stammered.
Gregor watched as Mrs. Allen finished swearing her oath.
This is a ritual, and also a rule that people in this world collectively abide by. The belief in the Seven Gods is very useful.
"Madam, let's make some snow salt now."
"Yes, sir."
Seeing the lack of desire in Gregor's eyes, Mrs. Allen's tension and fear gradually eased. When she and Gregor walked into the kitchen alone, her whole body was as tense as a bowstring.
So Gregor filled a large pot halfway with water, added half a ladle of salt, and began to stir.
"Madam, start a fire!"
Mrs. Allen started a fire.
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Gregor put the yellow salt in a basin and added some salt and water to the pot from time to time. As the temperature in the pot rose, all the salt dissolved into the water.
"Stop adding salt when it stops dissolving in the water."
"Yes, sir!"
"Boil the salt water."
"Yes, sir."
"After the salt has completely dissolved in the water, madam, what do you see in the pot?" Gregor held up the candle, as thick as a child's arm, in front of the pot. With his other hand, he used a spatula to scrape the bottom of the pot, then held the spatula up to Mrs. Allen.
Mrs. Allen saw some small black and brown particles.
"I see salt residue, sir!"
"Yes, continue to boil over high heat."
"Yes, sir."
Mrs. Allen's fear of the Magic Mountain gradually faded. She developed a strong interest in producing snow salt.
"Madam, come over here."
Mrs. Allen put the firewood into the stove and followed Gregor to a cross.
Mrs. Allen saw this cross for the first time.
The cross was made of wood, with a rope hanging from a horizontal beam at the top, securing it. The cross was a flexible wooden frame that could rotate 360 degrees. Mrs. Allen tried it out and saw that a large iron nail in the middle threaded two wooden strips of equal length together through a small hole.
Gregor opened a large lid next to him, took out pieces of cloth from the jar, one by one, and smooth silk, unfolded them, and tied the four corners of the cloth with the four corners of a cross.
"Wait a while, let the boiling water cool down, then pour the boiling water into the wooden bucket, lift it up, and pour it into this filter. The salt water will flow into the wooden bucket below, and the residue will remain on the cloth. In this way, there won't be any small particles of residue in the salt."
"What a clever idea!" Mrs. Allen's voice was filled with surprise and delight.
"Boiling salt water can remove the bitterness from the salt. However, to completely remove the bitterness and astringency, it is necessary to repeat the filtration and boiling process multiple times."
"So how many times exactly?"
"Try making it several times to see if it achieves the best results. You can also make several cross-shaped filter frames and choose a finer, denser fabric for filtration. You can also experiment with the number of filter layers multiple times to see how many layers are optimal."
"Yes, sir."
"Pour the filtered brine into the pot and continue boiling until the water evaporates, and the salt will return. But be careful, if the heat is too high, the salt at the bottom of the pot will burn, resulting in waste."
"I understand, sir," Mrs. Allen said excitedly. "We can sell snow salt in the seven kingdoms, sir."
"Snow salt is not for sale!"
"Yes, sir."
An hour later, Gregor and Mrs. Allen emerged from the kitchen, chatting and laughing. Mrs. Allen's face was flushed. She followed Gregor into his room. What was coming, was coming.
Gregor needed her to manage the kitchen, buy and sell rice and vegetables, arrange and recruit more servants, and brew snow salt. She felt more secure about the safety of her family.
If she could please the Mountain that night and deliberately flatter him, her child Andy would grow up healthy under Maester Harry's care, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Her mindset shifted from fear and dread to ingratiation and appeasement.
Looking into Mrs. Allen's eyes, Gregor knew that if he showed her any more 'kindness,' her flattery would turn into gratitude. Gratitude would then become thanksgiving, and if Maester Harry took her to the sanctuary for a ceremony—a pledge of allegiance to the Mountain's personal Seven—she would become a loyal follower, a devoted mistress.
It was fashionable for nobles in the seven kingdoms to keep mistresses, and the number was not limited.