haute_cuisine (
haute_cuisine) wrote in
hadriel_logs2016-08-21 03:26 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Sanji, Frisk, Sans, Colette, and honestly it's open to all!
What: Free monster stew, delicious and nutritious!
Where: Outside the inactive temple near housing spire 2.
When: 8/21
Warnings:bad puns Uh, probably Sanji's foul mouth. Maybe discussions of death.
[ Everyone has their own way of occupying their free time, their own way to settle in and find their role in a strange place or make the most of an even stranger situation. Sanji's approach to socializing isn't always easy to swallow, but here he is... throwing himself into his true love of cooking as a way to cope and a way to be a contributing member of this fucked up community. From behind the coiling ribbon of cigarette smoke snaking up toward the high cave ceiling, Sanji frowns at his work.
The hunt had left him with an interesting bounty of monster flesh, and it was a simple matter to butcher, carve out whatever looked edible (or at least useful) and got to work on testing out his culinary theory. Turns out Deathclaw is for all it's lean, tough and sinewy figure excellent eats. It's bones were so hard that it was almost impossible to crack for marrow, and made for a strangely smelly, unappetizing stock -- the skin, too, was useless as food... It didn't crisp well to heat and curing didn't help either. The meat, on the other hand, ranged from tough to succulent and deeply flavorful. The harder cords of muscle took well to tenderizing, and most of it's organs were suitable as casing for sausage when mixed with rendered fat and spices -- they made for a pungent, hard kind of cured edible but it kept well... And paired even better with cheese and bread. The rest had to be used and so the cook ventured out to serve up a hearty stew of root vegetables, tomato and cubed bits of monster meat, softening the pungent scent and taste with spices and a creamy soup base, browned onion for a touch of savory sweetness.
Sanji had done most of the work in his temporary home away from home (which was already away from his real home) but after arranging a grate over a fire housed inside a drum repurposed to be an outdoor stove, a large pot was placed over it and the meal assembled. Simmering until heat escapes it's trembling lid, whispering steam. Occasionally he lifts the lid to stir its contents, releasing a cloud of steam and the strong scent of cooking. He's got bowls stacked and ready to fill, a few bins for washing them, and waits for the hungry to succumb to the siren song of a free meal.
This spot was certainly not the most bustling, but it was close enough to civilization (and the hungry mouths that come with it) to suit his purpose, and just far enough from the 'shitty gods' Sanji didn't trust. This house of divinity seemed... empty, uninhabited. In fact, it appeared broken. The sound of footsteps steals his attention away from the ruin, however, brings his focus back to why he's here in the first place. To feed all the hungry-- ]
...Ladies? Is that the delicate tap of a lady's heel, demurely requesting a bite of my exquisite stew? [ Gone is that contemplative, serious look... Quickly replaced by wide eyes shining with hope just waiting to get dashed.
Sorry, did you expect his intentions to be entirely pure? ]
What: Free monster stew, delicious and nutritious!
Where: Outside the inactive temple near housing spire 2.
When: 8/21
Warnings:
[ Everyone has their own way of occupying their free time, their own way to settle in and find their role in a strange place or make the most of an even stranger situation. Sanji's approach to socializing isn't always easy to swallow, but here he is... throwing himself into his true love of cooking as a way to cope and a way to be a contributing member of this fucked up community. From behind the coiling ribbon of cigarette smoke snaking up toward the high cave ceiling, Sanji frowns at his work.
The hunt had left him with an interesting bounty of monster flesh, and it was a simple matter to butcher, carve out whatever looked edible (or at least useful) and got to work on testing out his culinary theory. Turns out Deathclaw is for all it's lean, tough and sinewy figure excellent eats. It's bones were so hard that it was almost impossible to crack for marrow, and made for a strangely smelly, unappetizing stock -- the skin, too, was useless as food... It didn't crisp well to heat and curing didn't help either. The meat, on the other hand, ranged from tough to succulent and deeply flavorful. The harder cords of muscle took well to tenderizing, and most of it's organs were suitable as casing for sausage when mixed with rendered fat and spices -- they made for a pungent, hard kind of cured edible but it kept well... And paired even better with cheese and bread. The rest had to be used and so the cook ventured out to serve up a hearty stew of root vegetables, tomato and cubed bits of monster meat, softening the pungent scent and taste with spices and a creamy soup base, browned onion for a touch of savory sweetness.
Sanji had done most of the work in his temporary home away from home (which was already away from his real home) but after arranging a grate over a fire housed inside a drum repurposed to be an outdoor stove, a large pot was placed over it and the meal assembled. Simmering until heat escapes it's trembling lid, whispering steam. Occasionally he lifts the lid to stir its contents, releasing a cloud of steam and the strong scent of cooking. He's got bowls stacked and ready to fill, a few bins for washing them, and waits for the hungry to succumb to the siren song of a free meal.
This spot was certainly not the most bustling, but it was close enough to civilization (and the hungry mouths that come with it) to suit his purpose, and just far enough from the 'shitty gods' Sanji didn't trust. This house of divinity seemed... empty, uninhabited. In fact, it appeared broken. The sound of footsteps steals his attention away from the ruin, however, brings his focus back to why he's here in the first place. To feed all the hungry-- ]
...Ladies? Is that the delicate tap of a lady's heel, demurely requesting a bite of my exquisite stew? [ Gone is that contemplative, serious look... Quickly replaced by wide eyes shining with hope just waiting to get dashed.
Sorry, did you expect his intentions to be entirely pure? ]

no subject
Especially now.
How does a skeleton smell without a nose? Well, don't ask him; he'll probably give you an annoyingly cryptic one-word answer like "magic," accompanied by a grin and a wink, and then leave it at that. But that's a pretty tantalizing scent crossing paths with his nasal cavity, and Sans saunters on over to take a look.]
Nah, sorry. Just the delicate tap of Sans.
no subject
The fuck...?
[ Living skeletons aren't new to him, but he hasn't seen something like Sans in years. Brook was just like him... but also so different. Tall and vibrant where Sans is short and slow. At first glance almost an antitheses in expression to whatever familiarity he could have had in his skeletal, magical form. Sanji recoils, then leans forward aggressively in outrage. ]
What the hell are -- [ He stops, realizing he's just heard the explanation. ] What's the big idea, asshole?! You don't even have a stomach!
[ He can almost hear the familiar sound of Brooks yo-ho-ho'ing at the skeleton joke. ]
no subject
And then, wow. Is a skeletal visage any reason to not enjoy delicious food? He thinks not. Grillby, he imagines, would also think not. Granted, he also owes Grillbz more G than he could feasibly pay off in his lifetime, so maybe that's not the best example.]
Doesn't mean I don't have feelings.
[He regards Sanji with mock offense, managing to communicate an expression both hurt and scandalized without losing his grin.]
no subject
And yet Sanji's own misgivings about men always get in the way to some degree, his hostility towards them so far from 'tame' that it borders on ridiculous, like so much of his emotional outbursts. ]
Tch. I can't tell if you're hungry or if that's the hallow sound of your bones clacking together under your clothes -- you wanna bowl or what?!
[ He's already lifting the lid off his pot and dipping the utensil into the steaming stew even as he speaks, and yes the aromatic cloud that rises from it's exposure to cold air is absolutely divine despite it's humble ingredients. The man is an artist when it comes to cooking, almost making up for his failings when it comes to social matters. Almost.
He slops heaping servings into a bowl - the broth creamy and savory like thick tomato soup and yet spiced to tame the wild meat stewed within it. It's strong with vitality and something else that the cook's talent has unlocked, but whether it's to the taste of the skeleton is yet to be discovered. ]
Can you even taste, bony-bastard? You'd better not be wasting my monster masterpiece on some dead taste buds, or I'll kick your emaciated ass!
[ There's a certain lack of sincerity in the blond's threat, as if he knows better. As if his question is more about making a show of bravado more than inquisitive in nature. He's also curious, almost eager to see if his suspicions have even a grain of fact. ]
no subject
Still, the foul language feels like it might be crossing a line of some kind. Or it would be, if he hadn't witnessed a particularly vicious game of Monopolgy between Papyrus and Undyne. He's pretty sure the board ended up skewered to the wall for a solid week after.
That's a thought that doesn't have much call to linger in his skull. He dispels it.]
Are you always this welcoming to your customers? [he asks mildly.
Either way, he's not sure how this entire interaction is going to go down - chances are if there's some kind of magic to the stew, it should stick with him instead of going straight through, a turn of events that he's certain would simply solidify the other man's dislike of him.]
/comes in here to fuck up everyone's day-- er I mean HELLO
[The duo will have a surprise visitor interrupting their nice chat, though even Colette in her infinite generosity would hesitate to call her blond friend's attitude toward this skeleton as... um, friendly. Oh yes, she did hear all that cursing and bad manners aimed at Sans from far away, complements of her Cruxis Crystal, and it's why when she jogs up beside the stack of bowls and stew that she gives Sanji a mildly chiding glance.
Which means from her it's more of an amused squint, like she's trying to contain a laugh. It's one of his more interesting qualities that she's noticed over the past few weeks: Mr. Sanji is so strange like that, acting like he doesn't like people when he's so quick to be generous.
Even still, she turns back to Sans and bows a little with a wide smile. The skeleton is... well, to be fair, Colette's used to interacting with people who aren't human per se, never mind that the grand majority have tried to kill her -- but he seems nice with his grin, and that's good enough for her.]
I was going to help Mr. Sanji with the stew, but I guess he's already finished, hehe. [She looks between the two of them, still smiling, before settling her gaze on the monster] Mr. Sanji's a chef, so I'm sure you're going to love it!
colette is totally saving poor sans from this trashbag prince of tryhards
The difference in mood is, to put it mildly, stark. ]
Ah!! Colette-chan!
[ As for the food itself? Sanji's in the habit of pouring all of himself into cooking, particularly here where he doesn't have nanites fouling up whatever vitality he has, uses in the making of certain recipes that fall under Attack Cuisine. The stew is extra nourishing as a result, and yes... it could translate to a touch of magic, given the benefits it provides. It was with a variant of this stew that he was able to bring rebels from the brink of starvation in the world he came from. That stick-to-your-ribs stew might actually, well... stick.
Meanwhile, all eyes are on the blonde, and the cook practically wiggles like a worm in some ridiculous, antsy dance at her presence -- a far cry from the growling hostility from before, even his voice is sing-song. How embarrassing. ]
I couldn't bring myself to have to lift so much as a finger! [ It's probably a good thing, to be honest. ] What kind of man would I be if I didn't wait on you hand and foot?
no subject
Either way, the effect is both instantaneous and amusing.]
Colette. [Thank god for this exchange of names, honestly. He could've busted out the old whoopee-cushion-in-the-hand trick, but he doubts that would've gone over well. He inclines his skull to her by way of greeting, then turns to Sanji.] And - Sanji, was it?
[He jiggles his bowl slyly.]
This stuff smells just souper, lemme tell you.
no subject
See? He likes it! He said it was super. [And he hasn't even tasted it yet]
no subject
As well he should. [ He flourishes for the lady, sweeping his arm out and flicking his hair with gloved hands in what he must think looks dashing, except his tone is all off -- still sing-song and goofy as all hell. I hope you don't mind the side order of second-hand embarrassment. ] I'm the best cook in any world. My -- [ Waaaaait.
Sanji's boast trails off to a heavy silence as his mind seems to catch up with the rest of him and for a moment he notes the subtle play on words. It's not obvious, it's not like Franky's intonation of the word -- Suuuuuuuuperrrr -- but the pun is lurking there, just in the shadows and barely perceptible enough to make him narrow sea-blue eyes at the skeleton. And then he shakes it off. Nah, it's nothing. ]
A-anyway, you can taste for yourself... and then explain to me why I shouldn't add your bones to my monster stew. [ In other words, you're not a monster, are you Sans? ]
no subject
Me? C'mon buddy, with my jokes, you can bet I'd be tasteless.
[Heh, get it? Anyway, here's hoping Deathclaw stew has enough magic inherent in the source material for it to count as some kind of off-brand monster food, or Sans has a feeling that whatever forced courtesy his host is displaying will quickly boil down into something much less pleasant.
And they've been having such a ball so far, haven't they?
So he shrugs, forgoes the use of silverware so he can simply slurp directly from the bowl. How does a skeleton slurp without a tongue, lips, or a mouth that even opens, exactly? It's best not to ask.
But the stuff sticks and dissolves into some kind of energy, so that's...good. Counts as a sustenance of some kind.]
Not bad. Guess it counts as monster food after all.
/SLAMS IN HERE LATE
No, not quite. But the pot (and the smell coming from it) is enough to attract Frisk's attention, wandering down the street in an attempt to find it's source. And now that they've found it- well.
It's a lot for one person to eat. And maybe- maybe he could teach them? So they could make Chara soup, one night. Or- whatever that is. Smells good. Probably tastes better.
...Unfortunately for Sanji, it does mean that when he whirls around, waxing poetics like nobody's business, what meets his eyes is, uh-
Blank air. At least up until Frisk raises their hand over their head, waving to gain his attention. Down a bit, good sir.
There you go.]
NO WORRIES
While he's enjoying a certain bloom of pride that comes from a dish well prepared, Sanji mistakes the subtle sounds to be the footsteps for something else entirely, and he's greeted only with silence and a space nearby sadly devoid of princesses.
He leans forward, squints through his cigarette smoke and having identified nothing relevant to his interests he --
WAIT. Now there's a hand waving at him from the other side. ]
What are you doing hiding back there? Stand up straight!
no subject
But far be it for them to be put off. Frisk can't exactly stand much straighter than they already are, but navigating themself around the odds and ends lying about the place, so he has a more visible line of sight? Yeah, they can handle that much.
The fact that he still doesn't look impressed to see them is promising. It's not going to stop them from glancing rather pointedly at the food, then back to him.
Please sir, may they have some
more?]no subject
Mm? A kid. [ You successfully identified a child with your stunning powers of observation, Sanji. Gold star. ] What are you doing out here alone?
[ Sanji mutters around his cigarette, tucking his hands into his pockets as he cants his head to the side, sizing up his pint-sized guest. He doesn't wait for an answer, but either this kid here is too-trusting for his own good or he's too hungry to worry about approaching strangers for a bowl of stew. ]
Hungry?
no subject
At the least the second question gets something a little more enthusiastic, child nodding sharply as they offer a glimmer of a smile. That's more like it.]
Please.
no subject
Someone's going to live another day because of this stew, and it takes a lot of courage to just ask for some of it. That much he knows all too well. ]
At least someone taught you some fuckin' manners.
[ The rebuke is offered gently despite the words selected in it's delivery. He dips the ladle - deep, gathering as much of the heavier protein and other ingredients that have settled to the bottom to ensure that the serving is hearty and hot when it fills the bowl. He offers it to the child. ]
There's a spoon there, make sure to eat it slowly. It's hot. [ A pause, long enough to let the child take the bowl and take a utensil, dip it into the creamy stew. ] You got a name, kid?