[ There's a neat trick that Josh learned back in Vancouver when it comes to letting food -- particularly the ones with sauce, sit. Sometimes, you see, they'd get customers who'd put in an order -- and then some five minutes later, change their mind, and pick a different dish. Cook hated letting food go to waste, but they couldn't serve food that wasn't fresh. It had been a then twenty-four year old Josh LaRue, barely six months into the job who'd shyly approached his boss to ask if he could handle the food that no one wanted to go to waste, because most of the staff preferred to put together their own meals in the upstairs living quarters.
"I'm Cook's assistant, sir. I just want to figure out how it's done."
It had been an accident, really. He'd stored the food in the fridge, forgotten to take it out the next morning, and then Cook had assumed it was something pre-prepared, heated it up it a pot and found that their ( not really ) leftovers were actually... kind of good.
He'd gotten chewed out for it. And then asked what the hell he'd done to get the chicken to actually absorb the marinade better.
The short answer? "I guess it's better if you let it sit a while?"
So yeah, nobody talks about how they prep a set amount of orders the night before, let the finshed product sit, before carefully baking it again the next day ( there was a lot of trial and error to make sure it didn't burn ) before serving. They weren't leftovers. It was just the way that particular dish was Done.
Back in the Tower, one Josh LaRue, now twenty-eight, has been knocking on a particular Blade King's bedroom door for about oh... five minutes? He isn't the klutzy kid that found his way to Derik Sloane's Blue Coffin anymore, quietly trying not to be unobtrusive -- the way he's knocking on that door kind of, yeah. ] Hikaru, you and I need to talk I don't care if you're sleeping like the dead.
[ Where were we: oh right. See, relationships -- platonic, romantic, whathaveyou -- are a little like dishes prepped in the kitchen. Cooking's an art. It's baking that's the science. And as with all things relating to art, things aren't always precise, or planned, or go the way you think they will.
Josh, you are so lucky Makoto has your back -- have pity on that door. Weren't you supposed to be the considerate kid? ]
Waking the Dead 2.0 | 14 July 2013, 2:30 AM : "just for a night / let the stars decide"
"I'm Cook's assistant, sir. I just want to figure out how it's done."
It had been an accident, really. He'd stored the food in the fridge, forgotten to take it out the next morning, and then Cook had assumed it was something pre-prepared, heated it up it a pot and found that their ( not really ) leftovers were actually... kind of good.
He'd gotten chewed out for it. And then asked what the hell he'd done to get the chicken to actually absorb the marinade better.
The short answer? "I guess it's better if you let it sit a while?"
So yeah, nobody talks about how they prep a set amount of orders the night before, let the finshed product sit, before carefully baking it again the next day ( there was a lot of trial and error to make sure it didn't burn ) before serving. They weren't leftovers. It was just the way that particular dish was Done.
Back in the Tower, one Josh LaRue, now twenty-eight, has been knocking on a particular Blade King's bedroom door for about oh... five minutes? He isn't the klutzy kid that found his way to Derik Sloane's Blue Coffin anymore, quietly trying not to be unobtrusive -- the way he's knocking on that door kind of, yeah. ] Hikaru, you and I need to talk I don't care if you're sleeping like the dead.
[ Where were we: oh right. See, relationships -- platonic, romantic, whathaveyou -- are a little like dishes prepped in the kitchen. Cooking's an art. It's baking that's the science. And as with all things relating to art, things aren't always precise, or planned, or go the way you think they will.
Josh, you are so lucky Makoto has your back -- have pity on that door. Weren't you supposed to be the considerate kid? ]