Juliette Coulombe (clearyourmind) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-11-09 20:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, cressida karth, juliette coulombe |
Who: Juliette & Cressida
What: Making soup
Where: Bahamut Hall kitchens
When: Backdated (Thursday, 11/7)
Rating: G-est G to ever G
Status: Complete!
It was getting cold now, so cold that most outdoor training had been moved indoors and away from the occasional chilly rain and the promise of snow in the coming weeks. It was the weather that had Juliette reconsidering the sandwiches she had meant to assemble and stopping at Harvey’s Greengrocery on her way to Bahamut Hall to pick up a different set of ingredients instead. She had taken to using the hall’s kitchen on slower days, for it was a great deal bigger than the one she could command at home, and fighters (and their squires) tended to be less discerning than she imagined her sister might be -- and failures were thus disposed of without much fuss. So today’s kitchen duty was multi-purpose; she arrived early, set the halved squashes to roast in the oven, and then began her other duties. The cleaning was done just in time for her to start on the next batch of ingredients. She was rummaging around for a pot large enough to hold the experiment when she heard someone enter the kitchen. That someone had been at Bahamut for some hours already, rotating between fitness training and target practice, when she picked up the scent of food and beelined for it. Certainly it was about time to put something into her stomach after working off the calories, being that she was propelled mostly by adrenaline as she popped into the kitchen, lingering in the doorway. Cressida smiled, seemingly in embarrassment. “Hey. Sorry, my nose brought me here on its own.” Fortunately, the person in the doorway was familiar; Juliette offered a hesitant smile and a nod of her head as she rose from the floor, properly sized pot at last in hand. “Good morning,” she said. “Unfortunately, there is nothing ready.” Though the squash would be out of the oven soon, there was still the matter of other ingredients to dice and prepare. “If you are willing to wait…” she trailed off apologetically; that was really the best she could do, even if she preferred not to cook with an audience. She supposed it would be a lesson in ignoring distractions. “Are your preparations going well?” she asked. They had not met in a few weeks, since the archer’s requested hand to hand spars, but she had said then that she was preparing for the Rangers exam. It seemed a touch too rude, even for Cressida, to linger unnecessarily and distract the younger girl, but when she was addressed, she wandered closer, fiddling with the bun in her hair when the elastic felt too loose. “I’d like to think so. Did I tell you I passed the first exams?” In consideration for personal space, the archer maintained enough distance between them that it wasn’t too close, but they didn’t need to yell across the kitchen. "No, I hadn't heard," Juliette replied, her smile growing. "Congratulations. What remains to be completed?" She was quicker now at the business of peeling and dicing, beginning with the apples. She hoped this soup would come out well; it was just the weather for it. She hoped Councilor Liu would enjoy it, too. The thought had her smiling to herself as she continued her chopping. Curiously, the archer watched her, idly pondering about what was being prepared. Catching herself in the act, she shook herself free of her thoughts. “Just a survival exam, out in the Outlands for a week. After that, I don’t know what comes next. The waiting, I guess.” Oh, but curiosity was so fickle. “What are you making, by the way?” “It sounds challenging.” And like something she would fail at rather spectacularly if she attempted it. Juliette thought of her conversation with Councilor Thornton -- truly, the Rangers would make a terrible path for her. “I am certain you will do very well.” One had to assume the woman was better equipped than Juliette herself to survive in the wilderness. One apple down and the next begun, she admitted, “I am trying my hand at butternut squash soup. It seemed the weather for it,” she said by way of explanation. “The squash is in the oven. I found this recipe in a book some time ago. It… may not turn out,” she admitted. But the only way to know was to try, wasn’t it? Were Cressida a dog, her ears might have perked up at the admission. Consciously now, she drew closer. “You had me at butternut,” she confessed, smiling now. “I can give you a hand, if you want?” A pause, and then she waved said hands. “I’m not trying to be presumptuous, it’s just-- I’ve watched my mother make it. It’s not really the same as making it with her, but…” The smile returned. “We can try to figure it out together?” “Oh,” Juliette said, “you are still more experienced than I am, in that case. This is… a bit of an experiment.” She looked a bit sheepish but offered the knife hilt-first. “Would you like to chop?” she asked. It was about time to start assembling the ingredients, and the squash would need to come out of the oven any minute, and all things considered, some help would assist in making sure she timed this well. That and, she had to admit (if only to herself) that the assistance of someone who knew what she was doing, even a little, raised the probability that the soup would be good, and she wanted it to be good, didn’t she? Cressida wasn’t entirely sure how to break it to her that faith in her cooking skills, of which she had few, above anyone else’s was a little too funny. Her, being the better cook in the room? Nonsense. Masking her amusement through a grin, she held up a finger. “Yes, but let me wash my hands before I touch anything.” With that, she scurried off to do just as she’d said, returning with damp hands once she’d found a suitable rag to dry them on. “How would you like me to chop them?” she queried, finally taking up the knife and rounding the counter to join the squire, eyeing the already chopped apple for clues. “Fairly small,” Juliette said. “The onion, too. We will puree them, eventually.” And hopefully, everything would work out. It was strange to be instructing someone else in the kitchen; each time Alys asked for instruction, too, she was similarly taken aback. She was still such a novice! While Cressida was occupied with the apples, she pulled the squash from the oven and tested for softness. It seemed to feel all right… Leaving the squash to cool for the moment, she once again went rummaging until she located a pan for the melting of butter and cooking of apples and onions and herbs. “Do you… also cook often?” she asked when the silence stretched too long. “I had not realized previously just how… common this hobby was among our guildmates.” If the archer was bothered by the silence, it didn’t show as she diligently sliced up an apple, appearing to know what she was doing but truthfully lacking the refined skill needed to make attractive, even pieces of fruit. “I’m not very good at cooking unless I have a recipe, and even then,” she laughed, mostly at herself, “things don’t always come out as they should. I’m a little better with baking, for some reason.” She scraped apple off the side of the knife. “What about you?” This time, she glanced up to deliver her smile. “Do you cook at home as well?” “Much more now than previously,” Juliette said after a moment. She had come to understand that only her noble cohorts were taken aback by this, and Cressida Karth was certainly not that. But it all seemed a bit much to explain to an acquaintance. So at last she said, “My mentor has been… instructing me, when the opportunity arises. I have found it a good exercise in…. focus,” she settled on at last. Cressida nodded in agreement, moving to the next apple. “I find I can focus better on baking. But the only thing I can make without ruining is muffins,” she admitted with an embarrassed smile. “Theo is your mentor, isn’t he? Theo Finch.” “Yes,” Juliette said, “you are correct, he is.” As she took the chopped apples and onions and added them to the pan along with fresh sage, she waited for the inevitable line of questioning. No one had yet failed to express surprise at the match (and, for some bizarre reason, concern for her well-being). But there was always a first for everything. “I think Theo’s great. You’ll probably learn a lot from him, if you haven’t already,” Cressida assured her as she paused in her chopping, setting the knife down. This was hard work; she couldn’t see why her mother enjoyed it every day. Eyeing the pan, she absently added: “What’s your favorite thing that he’s taught you?” When the onions began to sizzle, a step was taken back to prevent the desire to weep. That wholly unexpected statement earned another smile from the squire, this one less hesitant and a little brighter. “I think he is wonderful, too.” It was a distinct comfort to know that at least one person seemed to realize what she saw so clearly. “It is difficult to choose one,” she mused. “There is one particularly effective block -- and a pasta sauce recipe -- both of which have served me well.” That was not to mention his assistance with her strength training -- or her overall diet -- which had her growing, finally, and hitting much harder than she ever had before. She went over the the squash, which appeared to have cooled, and began scooping out the orange flesh of the vegetable. “We should be finished quite soon. Thank you for your assistance -- this went much more quickly than it would have had I done it alone.” There came a smile. “No problem. I can always use the practice.” (And when all was said and done, the soup wasn’t half bad.) |