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Week Eight - Friday
Who: Wes and Cat
Where: Her room
What: A dinner promised, a dinner cooked
When: Around seven
The first time they'd met, she'd promised a home cooked meal and tonight she would make good on that. He'd mentioned that his favorite food was carne guisado and she had promised her homeland's closest equivalent, feijoada. She didn't make it often, it was most definitely an acquired taste, and one it seemed not many people were in the mood for. Plus, there was a certain spice factor not everyone appreciated. Cat like her food hot, but then she'd been raised with it that way and so she often toned down the heat a bit for those not quite as used to it as she was. While the feijoada cooked during the day, she left only a bit of the usual spice out, figuring that Wes was man enough to take a little bit of flavor. It smelled amazing, filling her room with a heated, exotic scent that reminded her of home, of cooking as a little girl or studying in school to perfect her skills.
Cat split her time between the kitchen and her own private cooking during the day, dressed casually in a pair of blue jeans and a tank top, changing into a gauzy maroon halter top as it drew closer and closer to the time when Wes would arrive. She wasn't in the mood to get all gussied up - her feet were bare, her hair pinned casually back out of her face, make-up light - but this was enough to avoid being a bit too dressed down for a date. She was comfortable with Wes, didn't feel the need to get all dolled up for him to impress. Tonight, she'd let her food do the talking.
At 6:30, she moved to set two places at the table and turned down the stove's heat so that the feijoada was merely simmering now. She checked the fridge for drink options, not sure exactly what she had to offer but there was a bottle of red wine beneath the sink she knew and plenty of beer chilling, so that was taken care of. In fact, she uncorked the wine right then and there, pouring herself a glass to taste how well it matched with dinner. The pair went quite well together actually, a satisfying surprise. Cat moved to open the curtains of the window near the table, letting natural light fill the room in place of all the overhead business she hated. They had about an our of good, soft light left and it seemed fitting. Music was already playing in the background, a sultry rumba beat from back home - she was completely in her element tonight, totally comfortable. He'd once wanted a window into her world...tonight he was definitely getting that.
She was just taking dinner off the stove when she heard the knock at the door, pulling it open to greet Wes with a warm smile. "Hey, things are just about ready, come on in," she stepped aside to let him pass, closing the door behind him. "I've got beer or wine...I didn't know what you'd feel like drinking tonight."
Where: Her room
What: A dinner promised, a dinner cooked
When: Around seven
The first time they'd met, she'd promised a home cooked meal and tonight she would make good on that. He'd mentioned that his favorite food was carne guisado and she had promised her homeland's closest equivalent, feijoada. She didn't make it often, it was most definitely an acquired taste, and one it seemed not many people were in the mood for. Plus, there was a certain spice factor not everyone appreciated. Cat like her food hot, but then she'd been raised with it that way and so she often toned down the heat a bit for those not quite as used to it as she was. While the feijoada cooked during the day, she left only a bit of the usual spice out, figuring that Wes was man enough to take a little bit of flavor. It smelled amazing, filling her room with a heated, exotic scent that reminded her of home, of cooking as a little girl or studying in school to perfect her skills.
Cat split her time between the kitchen and her own private cooking during the day, dressed casually in a pair of blue jeans and a tank top, changing into a gauzy maroon halter top as it drew closer and closer to the time when Wes would arrive. She wasn't in the mood to get all gussied up - her feet were bare, her hair pinned casually back out of her face, make-up light - but this was enough to avoid being a bit too dressed down for a date. She was comfortable with Wes, didn't feel the need to get all dolled up for him to impress. Tonight, she'd let her food do the talking.
At 6:30, she moved to set two places at the table and turned down the stove's heat so that the feijoada was merely simmering now. She checked the fridge for drink options, not sure exactly what she had to offer but there was a bottle of red wine beneath the sink she knew and plenty of beer chilling, so that was taken care of. In fact, she uncorked the wine right then and there, pouring herself a glass to taste how well it matched with dinner. The pair went quite well together actually, a satisfying surprise. Cat moved to open the curtains of the window near the table, letting natural light fill the room in place of all the overhead business she hated. They had about an our of good, soft light left and it seemed fitting. Music was already playing in the background, a sultry rumba beat from back home - she was completely in her element tonight, totally comfortable. He'd once wanted a window into her world...tonight he was definitely getting that.
She was just taking dinner off the stove when she heard the knock at the door, pulling it open to greet Wes with a warm smile. "Hey, things are just about ready, come on in," she stepped aside to let him pass, closing the door behind him. "I've got beer or wine...I didn't know what you'd feel like drinking tonight."
