concoursec | (no subject)

Characters: Champloo and Open (with a thread closed to Pinkie Pie)
Location: The Cafeteria (and the Home Ec classroom)
Rating: PG?
Open/Closed/Finshed: Open
Summary: Unsurprisingly, Champloo remembered very keenly the offworld holiday that required cooking an obscenely large feast.

A year or two ago -- Champloo couldn't quite remember which, since as a demon years seemed much shorter than they did to a human -- someone had introduced the concept of a Thanksgiving feast to Garden. The introduction hadn't been perfect, of course. Champloo had no idea of the precise schedule the holiday was supposed to follow, but that didn't matter, did it? The important thing was that friends and family gathered around a well-laden table to stuff themselves silly and be grateful for all the good things they had in life.

To the Home Ec Instructor, such a holiday was the very flavor of perfection.

Thus on this day, beginning with lunch and carrying on late into the evening, those Garden residents who sought out their meal in the cafeteria would find not the standard lines awaiting the perpetually short-supplied hot dogs and sundry other meals, but tables piled high with all the treats of Thansgiving. Roast turkey and stuffing, cornbread and green bean casserole, salad and cranberry sauce, gravy and pies of all flavors and sizes. Champloo himself zipped about, passing out plates and silverware and cups, pouring wine and juice, and explaining the purpose behind the feast in food-metaphor-laden terms.

For a couple of hours in the evening, though, the demon chef went absent. He left behind plenty of food for the residents to carry on in their revelry, but he wanted a more private dinner with a certain someone...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ah, you are familiar with the holiday! The precise timing was never made entirely clear to me. However, is the spirit not the important part of any designated day such as this?" Champloo nodded to the food, fully expecting agreement since Nate was overtly tucking in.

"Nah, I think the food's the important part," Nate replied, matter-of-fact. His time on the streets had made food the important part of most things, and he'd never felt like he had much to be thankful for.

But he wouldn't mind starting with being thankful for this feast. He'd never tried half of these dishes, and he was having a difficult time piling a bit of everything on his plate.

"I won't deny that I'm rather fond of that part myself," Champloo said as he merrily moved more dishes in Nate's direction. Eat! Feast! Come back for seconds if need be! "But can you explain the precise timing in greater detail?"

"It's the fourth Thursday in November," Nate says, placing his overloaded plate on a nearby table and going back for cutlery. "I forgot why."

It was one era of history he hadn't been particularly interested in - it wasn't nearly exciting enough for him.

"Based on day rather than date?" Champloo frowned as he rubbed his chin with his thumb and extended finger. "An unusual temperature for the over to be set to! But I shall remember this for the future."

Nate simply nodded as he started shoveling food into his mouth. Some habits were hard to break.

After a few mouthfuls, he looked up at Champloo again. "Do you cook for other holidays too? Because this is good."

Champloo had busied himself making careful adjustments to some of the other platters, to accommodate the food that had been taken from them. Presentation is important, after all!

"Cooking is life, therefore life is cooking, therefore: I cook as often as possible, to further my study of the Kitchen Fist!"

Nate somewhat disagreed with cooking being life, but he didn't feel the need to argue the point with the person who'd made this delicious food.

"So how come you don't work in the cafeteria?" he asked between mouthfuls. "Seems to me like that'd be more opportunities to cook than just Thanksgiving."

Champloo drew himself up with proud dignity. "Making the same sandwich every day is excellent for teaching slicing, layering, and spreading... for that exact same sandwich. Besides, the Kitchen Fist, Fire Chaos Style must be taught! That is why I am a Home Ec teacher."

"If you were in charge you could probably change it up more," Nate offered, but he soon nodded at the thought of this guy teaching Home Ec. Kitchen Fist, Fire Chaos sounded weird, but if the guy thought it should be taught, being a Home Ec teacher made sense.

A few mouthfuls later, something occured to him: "Does that mean someone else around here cooks as well -" and as much - "as you do?"

Craning his neck, Champloo quickly looked around the room to make sure Pinkie Pie was not within earshot; then he leaned in, dropping his voice. "Pinkie Pie is not quite at my level, but do not tell her I said so! She is still skilled and talented in many ways."

Nate considered this as he chewed, then remembered: "Oh, yeah, I've had her pies." Several of her pies. "I thought they were pretty good!"

Not that he's tried Champloo's pies yet. Having cleared some space on a plate, he eyes up the pumpkin pie at the main table.

"Baking is Pinkie Pie's greatest skill, and not one to be underestimated. For her age, even adjusting for the fact that she is a human, she is a master of the arts of the oven!" Champloo had nothing to do with those skills, but nevertheless he took pride in them, a happy delight that his Special Somebody had such talent.