Cammie and Jean-Paul

[x-cynosure.livejournal.com]

Cammie stops by Jean-Paul's suite for taste-testing duties.



For such a relatively simple dish, the creation of the dessert had been surprisingly challenging. For one thing, letting food sit about until it spoiled went against Jean-Paul's habit of using fresh ingredients in his cooking. For another, every window in the suite was open to deal with the pungency of spoiled dairy and rotten bananas, and the rats had even been moved to the shut bedroom once the anti-freeze had been uncapped. Finally, even knowing the unique qualities of his guinea pig, the Canadian still wasn't sure that it was in any way conscionable to feed the spongy mound of greens and greys sitting on the table to a human being.

Well, he decided, facing said guinea pig, if it was a disaster, at least it would be a minor one.

Cammie was lounging back in her chair. The way she saw it, Jean-Paul was more than welcome to cook for her and even welcome to accept this as payment for the sushi dinner however odd that felt. If nothing else, it was a chance to try something new. She wasn't much of a cook.

Well, when she thought about it, she wasn't really much of anything. She shifted in her seat a bit.

"Well, it smells good," she said, shifting until she sat cross-legged on the chair. "To me, anyway. But I'm just crazy like that."

"Mmm." The speedster regarded the dish critically, but there really wasn't much that could be done to it without food coloring. "If you're crazy, you're not the only one in the room. Nonetheless, I present banana cream tart a la Cammie, with a decorative drizzle of antifreeze and mint soap shavings." He was fairly sure the soap was appropriately cheap; the chemical "mint" scent was actually giving the turned cream a run for its money. "Bon appétit."

"W00t," Cammie said, taking a whiff of the food before taking a bite of it. "Hey, this is pretty good," she said, and she meant it. "I never did stuff like this. Then again, I never really had the time or anything to do stuff like this." For a cooking experiment, she thought it turned out pretty well.

Jean-Paul inclined his head at the thanks. "Merci. Any suggestions for improvement? Flavors that could stand to be stronger or are not playing well with others?"

"Um, that's important?" she asked, the spoon still in her mouth. It wasn't something she thought about and now as she did she couldn't see why it was really important, "Um… I dunno? Everything tastes good together to me. But it's not like I really have an expensive palate or anything to draw on."

"It does give me more to go on for next time," Jean-Paul said with a grin. "I imagine a parade of desserts would not be a bad thing, but if, for example, you do not think that the antifreeze and the whipped cream are working together, it lets me know I should not try that combination again."

"Oh… okay. Well, once I get more experience I'll be able to tell you things like that, but seriously this is like the best I've ever eaten that hasn't come from a restaurant. My cooking skills are limited to sandwiches and stuff," Cammie said. And other things that didn't require much effort. She did enjoy mixing drinks, if only to watch them fizz and fizzle and all that other stuff. Even if she hated chemistry as a subject back in the day, that was enjoyable.

"Right now, I just think it tastes good."

"High praise indeed." And he did look as if he were basking in the compliment. "So we'll work on building your palate. For my own curiosity, what flavors are registering in all of that?"

"The bananas, I can taste," she said, and paused, "And the anti-freeze and the soap's a nice touch. Kinda like the closest I can come to what I remember mint tasting like," she said, thinking about it. It had been a very long time, so it wasn't like she had everything on instant recall in her brain. "but yeah, those are good. And the cream tastes like you let it turn, so that's adding a bit of flavor too? Hell, I'm not a fucking food critic. I like it."

"You have a captive audience, at any rate." Cammie had finished off enough of the dessert that it seemed safe to actually sit down, especially since there was a breeze blowing through the suite. "There was something you said earlier, when I first proposed this idea, that I've been meaning to bring up with you. I suspect you think that I am putting you on with this being an appropriate way to pay me back for dinner, and that is not so. Do not get me wrong, I am glad that you are enjoying, but I do appreciate the chance for its own sake. I like to cook, I like to keep busy, and I like to challenge myself. Cooking for you nicely encapsulates all three."

"Okay. I did kinda wonder, given that normally you don't let someone pay you back for something by you doing things for them. So you're like the resident chef or something? That's cool. And hey, I got loads of wasabi out of it, so it was like a bonus," Cammie mused. She had wondered about it. It didn't make any sense after all. But a lot of things here didn't work the way they would out in the real world and as tough as she thought herself, she didn't mind the break from that.

"Some thing like that, though it is partly necessity. My trick metabolism comes with a few downsides, one of them being that I burn through calories and reserves very quickly. It is better now, but when I was younger, I had to eat a full meal roughly every four hours or so just to keep pace and stave off malnourishment." He considered his next words for half a second before admitting, "Dumpster diving was simply not cutting it, so when I had a chance to eat on a regular basis again, I made sure to pay very close attention to anything having to do with a kitchen."

"Yeah, dumpster diving isn't really a great way to get food. Though I never minded it too much. It's free and has more flavor than the stuff in the restaurant. Though I admit if you can make it fresh and put something that has flavor in it, it's decidedly better than cold and slimy," Cammie had a good deal of personal experience with dumpsters.

"Immensely," Jean-Paul agreed. "Have you made any plans for when the weather warms up again?"

"No," she admitted, "I'm a licensed procrastinator. I'll figure it out when it gets here," Cammie said, playing with the spoon. "Though I don't know if I want to walk away from free fighting lessons." Even if she was getting her ass handed to her in most of those fights she felt like she was getting better. And that was always a good thing. "I mean, the streets aren't exactly paradise and where else I'm I going to go when I take off? Go sleep in another abandoned building and hope I don't cause another biological disaster?"

"Not the best way to go through life," the speedster agreed. "But there is no particular rush to think on the future."

“Yeah, it’s really not,” she agreed, playing with the spoon. The dessert had been decimated by her, and she was now pretty full. “I still got time until it warms up enough for real traveling. So, we’ll see. I mean, so far so good here. I haven’t killed anyone yet.”