![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
000 - ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
voidtreckerexpress Universal Contact Post
IC Contact Post
For any threads that may not fit the game community.
voidtreckerexpress Universal Contact Post
no subject
"One of my predecessors from way back then used to keep a jar of jellybeans as big as his head, just sitting there on his desk. It was pretty hilarious, until everybody realized he was serious about the candy." There are moments in his short anecdote that shells fall into the egg whites, but he's learned since the last time Tidus has seen him in the kitchen. He knows to use the remaining shell that's still intact to scoop it up, cleaning out the bits so the whites remain clean.
It's a task that doesn't take them too long, so he sets the rest of the eggs aside and puts the two bowls together. As for Roland himself, though -
"Truth be told, I think this is more café food than gourmet. I had it during a trip abroad. Couldn't forget about it. It was really something else." He'd rather not spoil the actual experience of it, or set an expectation his cooking skills may not be able to reach, so he stops the recollection there. The bowl of egg whites is cradled closer to his arm with a crooked elbow while his other hand gestures for Tidus to grab the bag of sugar.
He'd reach for the whisk, but reading the riven one more time makes his eyes grow slightly wide.
"Err. I'm hoping you'll tell me we have a hand mixer," Roland's face contorts to its usual look when things like this occur, a slight tilt to his head as the words follow-through. "Because otherwise, we're doing a meringue manually. You ever make meringue before, pro?"
no subject
But he could see Roland having these pancakes and remembering about them - for a son back in hospital, the Sunday treats of the Crane secret recipe that was never quite perfected. A possibility he won't call Roland out on, or not just yet; as they have the present with them right now.
The present that requires mixer, and a question of his own past. A grimace that isn't quite tight, but more thoughtful.
"Yeah, there's one around." Thankfully. And Tidus starts to wander the kitchen to find the drawer it's been thrown into, speaking loudly as he does. "I think I made one? Or I watched a show - it's just egg whites, right? You just mix 'em until you get fluff!"
Actually, that's what he's made before, isn't it? Not exactly meringue, but he recalls as he opens up a drawer to a jingle of the steels and metals inside, a small 'aha' as he spots the hand equipment.
"You got anything like protein powder where you're from? You can turn that into a fluff too - makes for a fun dessert with a pile of fruits. It's super easy to make too - I bet Inigo would eat it up in spades."
He's walking back with the mixer in hand, plug socket swaying slightly in his walk. Leans over to plug it in once he's at their table, holding the instrument between them.
"You want the honours?"
He should encourage it, probably.
no subject
He nods and takes it by the handle, grip firm. "Might as well. All right. The next step might be better with the both of us on duty." He displays some level of coordination, where half of him is focused on making sure the beaters and dough hooks were the right size for the bowl of egg whites; his other hand gestures to the sugar in two big bags still unopened. One is labeled 'Confectionary,' the other 'Granulated White.'
"According to the recipe, you'll need to mix the white sugar, the vanilla, and the baking powder to the yolks. Use the manual whisk. I'll beat the whites with the mixer, then when you're done, add in milk and flour." Roland leans close to the riven, then adds- "It's one tablespoon each of the first three, then six tablespoons of the flour and 1/4 cup of milk."
He wants to make a joke, and maybe this is a good opportunity to do so before he prays to whoever is listening up above that he doesn't mess up his own role. Something as easy as whipping egg whites..
"Wanna take down notes? Then again, you are pretty good at this. I gotta keep up with you and make this work. Remember. Jiggly. Let's do this." Roland's smile is easy-going, each of Tidus's own designated bottles handed to him with a nudge. Tidus's enthusiasm and calm in the kitchen does inspire to a degree, and he won't pretend it doesn't.
no subject
For now though, pancakes. To Tidus's credit, he's listening to Roland, and it's with cooking that he's learnt some semblance of patience through mistake after mistake. ...but when it's another guy speaking out the recipes outloud, he can feel that desire to get a move on. All compliments being nudged aside by him sliding the yolk bowl over to himself and re-reading for the instructions Roland just read out.
"Yeah yeah, we've got this. Who needs notes?" Please. Tidus doesn't bother to grab the measuring spoons but goes straight for the bottles of baking powder and vanilla instead. At that amount, he just needs to splash in the vanilla, and take whatever random small teaspoon for the inch of white power needed to be thrown into the mix.
"Alright-" he says, as if preparing, but with a glance between the two whisks between them - one manual, one automatic, - a squint comes to Tidus's eyes.
"Heyyy- wait, shouldn't you be doing this one? How come you get the easy job?"
Really, Tidus doesn't mind - but that doesn't mean he can't complain like he's getting unfair treatment.
no subject
Hyper focus causes him to delay in response, taking a second or two longer than he should have to respond to the accusation. The hand mixer is turned off, one brow lifted in an arch that disappears into his hair.
"Well, I need these to become stiff peaks. Read the recipe, it says it right there. It's a lot harder than it looks." Says the man who gets to just hold the beater versus putting in the work for it, though to his credit it does say it precisely on the riven: 'Using a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or a hand mixer, whip mixture on medium speed until foamy, about 1 minute.'
But he's missing a step within a step, barely caught with all the fussing they're doing between who's using the electric beater and who's using just the whisk. Roland's mouth opens for a retort until his eyes read words he could have sworn were not there before. The reaction drawn is instantaneous. "Gah! Hold on, no wonder I'm not getting anything. I need to add lemon juice and salt first..."
So there goes his claim to the hand mixer for now, setting it down on the counter while he puts the bowl down, favoring the lemon on one side and the salt shaker on the other. "If this isn't a good start, then I don't know what is."
no subject
To be making a white meringue for an otherwise simple recipe. It's a step-up though, from the man who was insecure of his own family pancake recipe, to now be attempting something that's already showing itself to be fancy. He hopes to himself that Roland isn't getting lost in the idea that he's an expert with anything to do in the kitchen, just because he likes to cook from time to time.
If this goes wrong, it's on both of them!
"You wanna make some for Tani too?" he asks, for no particular reason at all. The sound of the mixer isn't going off yet, so he's filling the air with his own voice. "We can give her some of these, if they don't eat up in the trash."
no subject
(...Come to think of it, he's glad this recipe came from earth. He's never, not once, seen a lemon in Evermore. Huh.)
"Not a bad idea." He replies lightly. The knife he holds drops carefully on the cutting board as he looks for another measuring cup. Measuring spoons too, since the salt has to be measured in teaspoon and not pinch. "I should have known you already got acquainted. Tani's quick to her hi's and hello's. Though she's even quicker in a fight, I'd say." And friendly - incredibly so - to the point where it draws admiration from the older man, just now happy to see her thrive regardless of circumstance.
That, and his worry has long been supplemented by the simple fact Tani is no damsel in distress, despite how they met in the wyvern's cave eons ago. Roland's smile grows from the fond memory recalled quicker than he can squeeze lemons enough for the required measurement. "First thing's first, though. Let's get this recipe perfect. Then we can send them out as good will gifts. Heh."
The additional ingredients are mixed into egg whites. He prepares himself for the onslaught of metal clanging against metal.
no subject
He's glad though once it comes to an end, and will huff, "Should've brought earplugs" just for the show of it, eyeing the consistency of his own mix with...half a clue of what he's looking for.
"How did you two meet?" He doesn't ask it with any rush, but more of a question borne from simple idle curiosity. But, also- "I get you guys were travelling? Like...were you a whole group of people and she was with you? Or was it something else? Was she Evan's friend?"
That guy's always sounded young... for a king.
no subject
Roland exclaims after a minute of noise, lowering the hand mixer revealing a creamy dollop of whipped cream turned meringue. It's not bad if the texture is of any indication, but he's not done yet. He moves slow, careful, as if his hands carry gold ready to drop at any second. His sleeves and his elbow partly touch the upright hand mixer with the meringue puffs coming off of its beater, but Roland ignores the mess in favor of grabbing another clean teaspoon to dip into granulated sugar; or the conversation that flows freely from their banter.
Gah. I'll change aprons in a bit. Can't cook if I don't look clean enough for the part.
While he moves about deliberately across the counter space, he glances upon Tidus's own mixing bowl too. So far so good, for however the instructions needed the egg yolks to look coagulated and thick.
"Evan and I were traveling first." He forgets if he ever told Tidus about the despot who overthrew the Tildrum line. Now, he's not sure if it's even completely relevant. "We were on our way to find him a kingmaker. They're kind of like Yuna's aeons, though in that world, they served as proof that someone could rule over a nation. Tani and his dad led a community of sky pirates by the canyons we needed to cross over, and short of almost throwing us off a cliff for trespassing, we ended up saving her from wyverns who kidnapped her for ransom."
A beat passes. That was a lot, wasn't it. His smile is wide, though. Roland likes recalling his life then. It didn't seem real at the time, with part of him still convinced he had died and was living out a dream from the afterlife. The reminiscing comes easy now that the dust of his adventure has settled nicely in his memory. "I guess that means we made friends with her at around the same time. Both of them joined our party on the way to the Cradle of Light, where Evan eventually earned himself a kingmaker."
He sets his egg white bowl down closer to Tidus, nodding at gesture to the granulated sugar with the teaspoon sticking out of its mound.
"I'll beat the egg whites slower this time. Add five teaspoons little by little until we get stiff peaks." He squints at the riven. "At least, that's the idea of it. Ready?"
no subject
( In another world and life. Still! )
He notices the creamy texture his bowl mix was taking, regardless of his slowing pace, pauses to double-check the recipe and confirm with some relief that it was. It was getting closer to the next stage, but Roland points out the sugar, asks for help that gets him to put down his bowl.
"Sure." Spoon grabbed, the sugar too; he doesn't tease Roland like he usually might, keen to see them actually get this right. "After this, I'll mix the flour in mine? Then..." He drags the word, squints back at the device. "--Yeah. We fold them up. Okay."
Tidus scoops up the first spoonful of sugar. "Ready when you are."
And he'll start, one by one, adding them by Roland's signals.