I hear you. Reminds me of my granny, an orphan, who was taken in by a relative with a farm. She grew up cooking large quantities, not just to feed the family, but also all the farm hands. My fond memory of her was a five-foot tall little old lady lifting huge 6-gallon pots of potatoes or sauerkraut at church suppers. Her arms were so strong, she could open jars that the men couldn't open. Her own modest kitchen was so small you had to leave the room to change your mind; but she regularly cooked as many as 12 separate dishes and a 24-pound turkey for our large family gatherings, which involved the uncles going down to the basement to bring up several tables and line them up as one long, cloth-covered table across two rooms. The trick was not to sit at a "crack," where one table was a half-inch shorter that the one next to it under the tablecloths. I miss those days very much.