if food could talk
Characters: Jun-he and Carmel Setting: Kitchen, 1130am
The conversation Jun-he had with Reece seemed to kind of annoy him. He wasn't exactly sure why but he definitely had a feeling that a hand full of Soju shots didn't help at all. When he had originally arrived the plan was to go by undetected, living his life quietly until he could leave in the night like a ghost. Evidently this was not the place he would be doing so. Perhaps his first slip was getting overly excited about an old friend in a little green bottle. The real question was whether or not he already regretted it. So far the answer was "no." The answer was clearly marked on his face with a childish grin, too.
Although he desperately wanted to sleep off the state he was in there was another force he could not ignore; his stomach, and so off he went from the courtyard with the open green bottle and what was left of his precious soju. Jun-he seemed to completely fill with some sort of inside joke, practically struggling not to giggle to himself about something he himself was so unsure of. With a quick pace he easily found himself at the doorway of the communal kitchen, stopping immediately before entering. He was pleased that it was empty, that was certain, but what he needed to do was pick through their supplies and find something... more appealing than the common American food he had been eating for the last four years. Awful, awful tastes, he recalled.
Having trouble focusing, Jun-he used his free hand to rub his forehead and brush back his dark hair in an attempt to collect his bearings. He followed with a heavy sigh and marched in to the rather large kitchen area. The moment he spotted a fridge he wandered over to it and placed the bottle he had on the nearby counter. Before opening it he took a quick peek in to the closest lower cupboard. "Po... ta... toes," he said to himself in disappointment, stretching out each syllable in some sort of self satisfying sarcastic test on his English. "Shibal," he swore to himself out loud in Korean.
It would clearly be too much to hope for even the simplest ingredients he would need for something more authentic to his tastes... except..
"Assa!" he exclaimed loudly, reaching in and pulling out a package of several instant Japanese ramen noodles. They were cheap and not so healthy, but they were one of those other fine things in the rough that he missed a lot. Hurriedly Jun-he tore through the plastic wrapping holding the packages together and pulled out what seemed to be "spicy beefy" flavoring. Once again, his meek charmer smile found its way back.
The day was already long and looking to stay that way, Carmel thought with a sigh, but at least she was keeping herself nicely busy. Busy was always the preferred mode to Carmel, especially if it meant she was being useful as well. She'd always enjoyed being productive, even as a child, and that drive had never gone away as she grew up. Now that she had access to a kitchen, she was being productive in the best way she knew, by cooking and feeding people. She was trying to make stuff that generally everyone would like, and she needed to sit down and make an actual meal plan for the next week, but first she needed to get a full grasp of what they had and what she might want to ask for, in addition to the fresh stuff they got every day.
She came back to the kitchen to make sure the waffle stuff was either wrapped up or used from earlier, and to take a survey of the specifics. She knew she was doing pizzas tonight, so she was going to get that dough ready too. It'd be long this evening, doing pizzas, but she had a feeling they'd be scarfed down and pizza as a leftover was always quite nice for most people. She needed to zing Leandro a private message, to let him know she was making 'boy food,' and ask if he wanted anything in particular. Tomorrow might be enchiladas, someone had mentioned those.
She should stop being surprised to find people in the kitchen, but this guy she definitely didn't know either. She would definitely remember him, she thought, with that very unique look. "Hello there," she greeted with a smile from just inside the kitchen door. "You must be new. I'm Carmel, it's nice to meet you," she said, moving in and extending her hand.
Feeling like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Jun-he jumped slightly, taking the ramen with him as he straightened up. The sight of the woman simply left him momentarily staring back with both his hands gripping the package against his chest. He blinked twice, feeling the rush of his intoxication throwing his balance off slightly. Handshakes were definitely not new to him, but he despised them deep down. Why were Americans so fond of touching each other as soon as they met?
Even so, it would have been rude of him not to respond. After collecting himself, he managed to let go of his tight grip on his "feast" with his left hand and with an awkward smile, returned the greeting with a handshake, overlooking the proper etiquette of conveying his name. A bow would have sufficed, maybe then his natural instincts would have just flowed like a river and everything would have been taken care of. Even in prison handshakes weren't a favorite choice. Still his handshake came with his own very slight bow.
"I just.." he started, withdrawing his hand back, "...Ramen."
His explanation was weak at best but he caught on quickly to his awful state. Looking down at the package, he then looked up at Carmel and smiled like he were a boy again, albeit completely silent from there. It was as though he expected her to say something, or tell him anything. Maybe she had a purpose talking to him. People usually did, but the possibility of her just being friendly seemingly just escaped him.
Carmel had gone back to the handshake she knew all her life since coming to this place days ago, though prison had mostly curbed the habit for awhile. To her, though, it was a natutal extension of greeting a person.
She noted an accent immediately, as well as his slight awkwardness, but Carmel had often ignored these things. "Ah yes, ramen," she said with a nod. "Do you want anything to go with it? I've been doing a lot of the cooking, though I admit I've not done terribly much with ramen and such. Wu, another man in here, made an excellent meal of Asian dishes our first night, though," she said. "Ramen," he repeated back in a curious tone, taking a casual side step over to the fridge he had originally intended on going through. Half ignoring the woman briefly, Jun-he stuck his head in and began digging through its contents. Although he had been drinking, he was by far still focused in making himself something close to a taste of his homeland's cooking. Within moments he had managed to find a bag with green onions and package of eggs.
Pulling back from the fridge he juggled the package of raman, onions, and two eggs between his hands and kicked the door gently shut with his right foot. "Thank you," he added, giving her another slight bow in appreciation of the offer, "but... I got this." Jun-he's childish smile remained as he thanked her, thinking about her name as he did. "Cae.. ru.. mel," he stated with a kssss sound after (and having done his best at pronouncing that l in there), scoffing at his own private joke. Her name, he had heard of before, but it seemed much more fun calling her a Korean pronunciation of Caramel.
"Aha," and with that he turned and wandered to the stove.
Carmel blinked. He was... different, and she honestly didn't have a good grasp on what was up with him. Normally she was a reasonably shrewd person when it came to reading others and figuring them out for a general first impression, but he was... elusive, she supposed, was the best thing she could come up with offhand. Maybe she was just that tired, she thought, rubbing her thumb along the line of her jaw wearily.
"All right then," she said, figuring if he said he had it, he did, but she could put some of the earlier stuff up and maybe see about starting the pizza dough. It would take quite awhile, and there would be quite a lot of it. She noted his difficulty with her name. "If you'd rather call me Mel, that works too," she said easily. She'd had several people call her that in her life, though it wasn't a pet name, not really. "Either one works for me." Big giant mixing bowl, check. Basic ingredients, check. She had made sure they were around before she made her plans, but she would definitely need to see what might need restocking today or tomorrow, and see if there were any specialty items she wanted especially.
She didn't mind working in silence or with someone else in the kitchen; she was positively used to it, in fact, on both counts, though the kitchen was usually filled with chatter. But it was mostly her darned curiosity that led her to open her mouth again. "So when did you get here?" she asked after a few minutes. "I haven't seen you around before, though I know there's a handful of people I haven't met yet."
As Carmel worked, so did Jun-he. He went through cupboards to find a small pot, filling it with water and then putting it on the stove to boil. As she spoke to him, he managed to find a chopping board, small dish and little handheld strainer. He listened carefully to her words, pretending to be busier than he was. For a moment, he thought about what she had been saying while laying out three long green onions. “Mmmh,” he responded, “Maybe 10:30 today, ca-ru-mel.”
A small smile returned as he reused his version of her name, slicing the onions in half each down the middle. It didn’t last however. “Aaah pa yo!” he exclaimed loudly, having sliced his thumb enough to draw blood on the last of three even chops across the onions. Clearly knives were not a great idea after a handful of soju.
Making a painful face, Jun-he quickly scooted over to the sink and ran the thumb under cool water, sounding his reaction to the sting through his teeth.
From most people, her name pronounced close to the candy would probably elicit an eye roll, but given she didn't know him or even if he could pronounce it well, she just accepted it. "Ah not that long ago then," she mused. "Well, welcome to the facility. There's a fair number of us at this point."
She looked up at his exclamation, concern wrinkling her forehead. She automatically grabbed a cloth and moved next to him, peering at the cut and trying to see if she needed to fetch Cal or not. "How bad is it?" She asked.
Braving the sight of his own wound, Jun-he moved his thumb from the water, holding it just above the cloth Carmel had in hand. He made a half disgusted, half annoyed face and looked at the small amount of blood forming from the not-so-bad wound. Apoyo, he thought to himself again. It definitely did hurt, but he would live and he definitely had worse, plenty worse. In all honesty a little bit of booze turned him in to somewhat of a baby, as much as he avoided at all costs admitting it.
“Not so bad,” he answered, taking a flash of a glance at her and then over to his now boiling water. The thought of her touching his thumb kind of bugged him, as that sort of thing always had, but he definitely could not take care of his food if the blood was still coming out. He looked back at her and bit his lower lip slightly. “Ahh…” and he had no idea what to say now. It wasn’t like it was her job to take care of his crybaby wound.
No, it wasn't so bad, but it wasn't so good either. Carmel was no stranger to knife wounds, given the knife work she did in the kitchen, so the sight of a little blood didn't bother her. After a moment of brief consideration, she pressed the clean rag to his finger. "Hold that there for a moment, and let me look. I think I saw a small pack of bandaids in the junk drawer. I'll get Cal to make me up a small first aid kit tomorrow to keep in here though." She hoped she would remember that. She rustled through a drawer and finally pulled out a band aid triumphantly. "This should do for now, and if it gives you trouble or the bleeding doesn't stop well, we will go to Cal. He's in room 6 and he's a doctor. Or Becka, she's a nurse," she explained to him.
Scrunching his nose, Jun-he took the cloth firmly, watching her as she went through the drawer. Immediately he withdrew it the moment that band aid was unpackaged. He didn’t seem to mind the pain anymore and remained rather silent. He was seemingly truly a man of little words for the time being.
Without a word he ran the cloth under the water to rid it of his blood, but left it in the sink in hopes no one would actually use it for anything other than cleaning up. He moved around Carmel and picked up one of his eggs, sighing and then looking over at her. “Kam sa ham ni da,” he started, “it means thank you. I should say it in Korean to you so it’s more meaningful.”
Awkwardly, Jun-he returned to silence for a good moment before tossing her another look after breaking both eggs in to the dish he had. “Have you made egg threads before?” he asked while watching her, trying to fend off his own silence and feeling slightly foolish in the meantime.
Carmel really couldn't pin him down, and it bothered her a little, but as with Wu she kept her curious questions to herself as she sized up both the situation and the person. She put the bandaid on him quickly and efficiently, not too tight and not too loose. She made another mental note to grab the rag to take to laundry later when she went, now than they had one. She had worried about that. She nodded her head in acceptance of his thanks, thinking it was a pretty way of putting it. "You are very welcome," she said. She looked over curiously. "I have seen it done once or twice but I've never done it," she said. "Is that what you're making? Will you show me?" Her natural curiosity about all things cooking and food showed through clearly.
He laughed gently for the first time openly without keeping his amusement all to himself. “I should give you something in return for helping me,” he answered first, reaching over to grab the small whisk atop the counter in a utensil container. While tending to the eggs with it, he kept a small smile, feeling his body warming as it did its work to the soju inside.
“It is very easy,” he continued, “my mother used to make us this in soup when we had little for food.” Before showing her anything with the egg he first opened the package of ramen, placing it gently inside the boiling water so as not to burn himself with any splash of water. He would not look foolish twice. Next was the package of soup base, which he opened carefully and poured in, followed by the green onions. Using the whisk, he stirred up the contents of the pot and then placed it back on the counter where he picked up the dish and strainer.
“It may or may not work with this, but I think it is a good… ah..” he seemed to become stumped for the right word. Whatever it was called in English, he had never had to figure out before in his entire life. “It pours though?” he half questioned before shaking his head and laughing quietly at himself.
“Okaaay…” Jun-he waited for a moment to make sure the ramen was not completely hard still then hovered over the water and glanced over to Carmel, making sure she was watching. “One, two, three,” and then he poured in to the strainer very slowly, the egg leaking through the holes. As he poured he moved his hands just as slow to avoid simply clumping the egg.
He smiled like a child, big and bright until he remembered his own words about his mother. Truthfully, he had not spoken about her in a very, very long time and it brought a simple reality back to his half-drunken state. The smile slowly faded. “Easy,” he added softly, looking at his thumb a little intently before placing the strainer in to the dish and then both down on the counter.
His relaxation fed hers, and she moved closer than before, not close enough to get in his way but close enough to.watch properly. "Ah yeah, dad had a couple of meals like that when he wasn't making much." Her mother spent money too easily, and her father had often worked two jobs to compensate for the much needed money. She wished she could see him, for a moment. It had been weeks already since the last time, and he had aged so much the past few years.
She watched his actions intently, listening to him as he spoke. "Um, strainer? Funnel?" She offered the words to him when he couldn't seem to find the right ones. She hoped he wouldn't be offended; some people were and some people weren't, she knew, when you helped like that. "Oh that's neat," she said brightly as she watched the egg meet the water and the result. She looked up to catch his smile fading, though, and she gently and briefly touched his shoulder, not sure how he as with so many here would take the gesture. "Thank you for showing me," she told him with genuine gratitude, stepping back and still looking at the water intermittently.
His relaxation fed hers, and she moved closer than before, not close enough to get in his way but close enough to watch properly. "Ah yeah, dad had a couple of meals like that when he wasn't making much." Her mother spent money too easily, and her father had often worked two jobs to compensate for the much needed money. She wished she could see him, for a moment. It had been weeks already since the last time, and he had aged so much the past few years. She watched his actions intently, listening to him as he spoke. "Um, strainer? Funnel?" She offered the words to him when he couldn't seem to find the right ones. She hoped he wouldn't be offended; some people were and some people weren't, she knew, when you helped like that. "Oh that's neat," she said brightly as she watched the egg meet the water and the result. She looked up to catch his smile fading, though, and she gently and briefly touched his shoulder, not sure how he as with so many here would take the gesture. "Thank you for showing me," she told him with genuine gratitude, stepping back and still looking at the water intermittently.
At the touch, Jun-he just barely glanced back over his shoulder at her, knitting his brow momentarily. Even he was unsure how to feel about the touch. He nodded his head in response to her thanks and then looked down at the pot. It would be several minutes before it was done and he could retreat back to his assigned room. At least she had stuff to do and wasn’t just hanging around for the fun of it. Though strangely, he felt more at ease than he had in what felt like a decade even if that ease in itself made him almost uncomfortable.
Instead of making conversation on his own, he simply focused on his food until she returned to whatever it was she had come to the kitchen for, eyeing her from time to time when he thought she wasn’t looking. His prison habits were still fresh in his mind and he knew it was better to be aware of what was going on at all times.
Carmel washed her hands thoroughly before she went back to mixing up her ingredients, the habit so ingrained by years in the industry that even prison hadn't broken her of it yet. Probably wouldn't, actually; the place had always made her want to feel cleaner than she had managed until here.
Though sometimes she chattered to fill the silence, she didn't feel the need to just now, especially since she couldn't tell if it would be welcome or not from this man. Boy? It was hard to tell, even though she knew everyone in here had to at least be legal at this point. She reached the point she actually liked, which was kneading the stuff with her hand. It was her personal version of stress relief that didn't involve kick boxing or exercise of a typical sort. She put her strength into it, though, not minding messy hands, in fact enjoying it. "Do you like pizza?" She asked after a while. "I was planning on making several tonight, putting different toppings for different people." So most people might get something they enjoyed especially at least.
Tossing her a short glance, Jun-he shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied truthfully, shuffling over to search through above cupboards for a bowl. After the first cupboard of glasses he managed to find what he was looking for, reaching inside and taking what he needed.
Pizza was hardly a Korean common food and more so he never thought it looked appetizing. Not the way they made it, anyway. He was hardly excited at the thought of eating fancy greasy bread and eagerly poked his ramen concoction with the whisk, finding it near completion. All he really wanted to do now was nip his stomachs growls in the butt and take a well-deserved cat nap. He had had a long day and he figured it would be even longer.
“Maybe sometime,” he added, starting to rummage through drawers for utensils. “Ah!” he exclaimed very softly to himself, finding the stash of packaged wooden chopsticks. Immediately he tore them open, splitting them apart with a crack. As he rubbed the two sticks together between his palms, he hovered over his ramen, thinking about the community he was now a part of as a whole.
“Well, thank you,” was all he could think up in the moment, his cheeks beginning to cool off. Without waiting around he used the chopsticks to move the ramen to his bowl and dumped the remainder water down the sink, feeling a little strange about wasting it. There was always good soup to be made with ramen base.
"Well, if you want to try it, feel free to come by this evening," she said. "I'll make up something for you if you want." He seemed to have different tastes from just about everyone here, she could tell that already. Though she wouldn't be insulted if he didn't eat what she made. It just wasn't for everyone, though she tried to be general enough that most people would eat something.
"You're welcome. Enjoy your ramen," she told him with a warm smile. "Maybe you'll show me some more different foods some other time." She was always up for learning. "I'll see you around later." She'd enjoyed the time, as odd as it had been. She still wasn't sure she even knew his name. But she knew she'd see him around, and she'd see if she couldn't learn more about him as time went on.
Pressing his lips together, Jun-he made a mental note to do the proper thing and come back to wash those dishes after his nap and nodded in Carmel’s general direction. He grabbed what seemed to be a dry extra towel and picked up the bowl on top of it, quickly taking his leave. Something about her made him almost want to hang around. It was comforting and almost normal… as normal as it could have been anyway. He left without a word, thankful his room was literally next door to the kitchen.