with_my_teacup | Kitchen Spam

Kitchen Spam - saturday morning

[The breakfast menu just got kid friendly-- and the kitchen just got a lot better secured. No little hands in sharp places, or high places, or hot places; Riddick has it locked down. He's also keeping a serious eye on the mess hall, dividing his attention between waffles and doing walkarounds.

Unfortunately, he's not quite himself. He found this pair of smoked eyeglasses... and he's been trying not to talk ever since he put them on. Fucking floods, am I right.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[From the countertop, Young Ned watches the man fuss about, and the image is so bizarre and alien that he can't help but crack his first smile]

[Riddick catches him, and offers a prim smile in return.]

I am using precisely the amount of sugar in the recipe, because I will make it too sweet or too sour otherwise. I have not mastered sugar, yet.

[He offers it as confession, a little weakness, so that Ned feels like he's got a handle on him. He hopes.]

[This is acceptable; Ned's not seen too many male bakers. That Riddick is not so practiced at sugar makes him a little more human]

...I can...?

Would you please? [Riddick steps to one side and gestures at the bowl of proto-filling encouragingly.]

[With an eager nod, Young Ned hops down from his perch and begins to save the filling, doing what his mother's taught him all his life]

The sugar's sticking to the bottom; you need to keep stirring or it'll solidify and burn.

[Riddick nods gravely, crossing his arms as he watches Ned work.]

You have a good arm for a young man.

[Far more talkative when the subject is on pies, Young Ned tilts the hot pan towards his body to better scrape the bottom bits up]

It's the same motion over and over. You just get used to it.

Of course.

[Riddick hovers, a little concerned about the pan, but he has to respect expertise. Ned started earlier than he'd known.]

A lattice on top of the cherry pie? I was not accustomed to pies in my youth and have some way to go toward learning the traditional forms.

[He nods, tilting the pan back the other way and directing Riddick over to where the dough sits]

Roll it out to ten inches across and start cutting it in strips about an inch and a half wide.

[Riddick nods again and obeys-- he's good with a rolling pin, moderating his strength so that he doesn't overroll it, and fantastic with a knife, making quick, clean, perfect strips.]

Why a lattice on cherry but not apple?

Speaking of other pies, how long have we got left on the one in the oven?

Cherries are smaller. The apples are slices and a lattice wouldn't sit right on top.

Nine minutes and twelve seconds.

[An odd transformation seems to be taking Ned over; at first demure, quiet, and of little consequence, now he's fully in his element and taking charge of the kitchen]

[Riddick smiles fondly. There.]

Why not a full crust on the cherry, then? Here, these strips are done, have you already put the main crust in the tin?

[Young Ned looks uncertain, some of the wind being pulled out of his sails. His arm slows]

....Do you...want a full crust?

Not at all. This is the way you taught me to make it: I just wonder why.

...I just.

That's how my mom made them.

A perfectly good reason.

...I think my magic killed her.

...did you bring her back first?

Yes. She died again.

I understand. I'm very sorry.

It was my fault. I'm the one who's sorry.

I doubt you meant to do it. I believe it was painful for you, and I am sorry for you.

...I don't want to talk about it anymore.

How long on the first pie?

Eight seconds.

[He turns, and begins pulling on oven mitts all the way up to his elbows]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

Re: [Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]