souffle_girlek | (no subject)

(no subject)

Early in the morning, before most of the bar is awake, a tiny time traveler visits the kitchen. She would stay at home for a late-night snack, usually, but...

Well.

Ace already knows way too much about the Wells' romantic life, and about one picosecond downstairs at the farm let her know that sticking around would only teach her more. And since Bar was getting a break in the quiet hours of the night, Ace decides to fetch a snack herself. It's really too bad she left her current project on top of the microwave when she left.

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"Well, you see, it's not as easy as going 'yay, souffle'... well, actually, that's pretty much the whole plan, but you have to make it a flavor first, and there's all sorts of flavors." Oswin explain, her nerves translating to babble as she leads them into the kitchen.

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"About twenty, twenty-five minutes?" She sets a prepared souffle pan next to the bowl and retreats back to her seat and her tea. "Some of the ovens are a little wonky."

They're not, but shhh. It's a convenient excuse.

"All right," Autor says, transferring the batter into a baking dish. "How hot?"

"Three seventy-five... here, I'll set it." She hops off the stool to mess with the oven. "And then it's a waiting game."

Autor carefully sets the baking dish on the oven rack after it's preheated. He pulls a pack of cards out of his pocket. "Ever played Old Maid?"

Twenty-five minutes and twelve lost matches later, he opens the oven door to take the soufflé out to cool.

Oswin sits back on her stool, watching. For the record, it's a bit odd watching someone else take food out of the oven.

"So, how does it look?"

"Like a soufflé, I assume," Autor deadpans. He adjusts his glasses at her, huffing without making a sound. "Want to cut into it?"

Oswin rescues two forks from the drawer and hands one to him.

Pointedly.

Cut into it, hell.

"Last one to the bottom is a rotten egg."

Autor is good at sensing challenges when they're thrown in his face.

He snags that fork and starts digging into the soufflé.

Oswin's not too far behind him, but...

But.

One bite.

And something.... something crunches

Souffle ain't supposed to crunch.

Autor notices this, too. "Oswin? Did the flour have sand in it? I'm detecting sand where there should not be sand."

"Yeah, it's... it's not sand." She winces, having 'enjoyed' this particular surprise before.

"What is it?" Autor asks, furrowing his brow. He takes another experimental bite.

Nope.

Still crunchy.

"Erm."

She doesn't want to tell him. She keeps hoping he'll figure out out, because she really doesn't want to be the one to tell him.

"It really is a pretty souffle."

"It's something I did, isn't it?" Autor says, biting his lip. "You made the base, and I--Oh. Well."

He sets his fork aside, color rising in his cheeks. "So, um. Next time you separate the eggs."

"Deal." She agrees, abandoning her fork. "Croissants?"

"Croissants," Autor agrees, and starts cleaning up the mess.

Options:

Last choice?

-or-

Start?

Edited 2015-02-02 06:12 (UTC)

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Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

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Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs

Re: Autor is crap at separating eggs