maps_theo (maps_theo) wrote in greatergood_rpg, @ 2010-05-30 17:00:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | character: theodore nott, character: tracey davis, date: may 2000, place: private residence |
RP: A romantic dinner for two
Date: May 30th, 2000
Characters:Theodore Nott, Tracey Davis
Location: Liverpool; Theo's flat
Warnings: Language, most likely
Public/Private: Private
Summary: Tracey has Words with her faux boyfriend over a homemade dinner.
Status: Incomplete
A quick charm heated the stovetop, which slowly melted a stick of butter. Theo would try another charm to get things done faster, but the last time he attempted that, he was a teenager, and he set the kitchen on fire. Nothing a few more basic charms couldn't fix, but not an experience he wanted to repeat either, especially with guests in the imminent future. Well, a guest, one Tracey Davis, who surely had some sort of criticism for his behavior today--mind you, Theo thought he had been perfectly charming all week, but like most women he'd encountered, satisfied was not a natural state for Tracey.
After a moment, diced garlic simmered in olive and sesame oil with the butter. He added a dash of dark vinegar and vodka to the pan before he throwing in two handfuls of young asparagus shoots, already blanched to partial readiness. On second thought, perhaps the vodka was a bad idea, but Theo cooked with whatever was at hand, and the white wine was behind him while the vodka was on the counter. He could summon it, sure, but the vodka was already here, so why not? In any case, he didn't have time to second-guess his decisions--he'd learned the hard way that it was best to not overcook asparagus, and in half a minute, it was sitting neatly divided atop two Qing dynasty china plates.
In the oven, gratin savoyard baked cheerfully. It was a favorite of his, much easier for him to make as a wizard than for any muggle chef. Hair-thin potatoes layered with honest-to-god beaufort cheese, which he'd apparated to Savoie a few hours ago to pick up in clumsy French, soaked in bouillon and, because this was Theo, white wine that was dryer than a desert. He would've gone for the vodka out of laziness, but Tracey would no doubt realize that he'd used a Polish vodka in the Frenchest dish that was ever French.
Perhaps he ought to hand in his man card, but Theo cooked like this normally. That Tracey was coming over only required him to work with double the ingredients. Soon enough, the gratin joined the asparagus on the plates. With another charm to air out the oven (he didn't want the salmon baking in the flavor of cheese), he set two chunks of salmon to broil while he prepared a béarnaise sauce for it. It wasn't a perfect rendition of the sauce because he didn't like it perfect: it was bizarrely enthusiastic with the tarragon and chervil, and it was too light for a yolk-based sauce, mostly because Theo gave it a generous addition of flambéed cognac.
Theo checked the clock, and then checked his fireplace. Tracey wasn't here yet. Well, she will be very soon, and for once, the table was set on time. ...Kind of. She'd probably want a wine to go with dinner, and of course, a decent white ought to accompany any sort of fish. His apartment wasn't as large as you'd expect, not if you knew he grew up in not even a mansion but an entire estate. These days, Theo lived in an open penthouse studio with only a change in carpeting to partition the space. One wall, the one that faced the hallway and lacked windows, served as a wine rack. It was also a rack for vodka, brandy, amaretto, tequilas, raki, cacacha, and virtually any other form of fermented something that you could think of. It likely didn't set any world records for the largest wine rack in the world, but it did make one wonder.
He was still picking out a selection of white wines to choose from later when his fireplace finally acted up--not that Tracey was late. She was, in fact, exactly on time. Good. Theo liked punctuality in a woman. And in anyone, for that matter.