The Cookie Fairy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alcesverdes) wrote2009-08-01 11:09 pm
alcesverdes) wrote2009-08-01 11:09 pm
Entry tags:
[Seirei no Moribito] The Secret
Title: The Secret
Fandom: Seirei no Moribito
Characters/Pairings: Chagum, Balsa, Tanda, Torogai
Rating: PG
Length: +950 words.
Summary: Chagum wants to know why Tanda's food taste better than Balsa's.
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: Written for the "Food, cooking and mealtimes" prompt from the cliche_bingo challenge.
Chagun hadn't seen food been cooked before Balsa took him under her wing. Certainly, he knew there was a process between the raw food and what he found on his plate --Shuga had explained that much to him-- but he'd never witnessed it; he'd never been allowed near the kitchen of the palace. That was why, after they moved to the mill and whenever he had the chance, he liked to sit down and observe how the meat changed color and the rice grew and went softer.
All the changes the vegetables went through amazed him, but there was one thing that confused him the most.
Given that the process was more or less the same, there shouldn't be an actual difference between what two different persons cooked. The same kind of ingredients were used, it was done in about the same time, sometimes, even the same knives and pans were used. But, no, it soon became clear that the comparison was pointless.
Tanda's food tasted better than Balsa's and that was it. Not that Balsa's was inedible, it was just less good.
Trying to figure out the mystery, Chagum started to pay more attention to both of then when they were cooking. He did find out that Balsa was all serious the whole time; her frown wasn't as pronounced as the one she wore when she practiced with her spear, but it was there, nevertheless. On the other hand, Tanda only frowned when he was picking the ingredients, or when he was deciding what he would prepare the next day. Other than that, his expression was soft and tender, a little more than when he prepared his medicines, but a lot less than when he looked at an inattentive Balsa.
Chagum, then, got to a conclusion.
To confirm it, however, he went to both of them and asked them about what they thought it was the secret for cooking a good meal. Unfortunately, even though they weren't together when he asked, they both gave him the same answer, which could be summarized as, "Gather good ingredients and follow the recipe." That just didn't help because it was the source of his question in the first place, which sent him back to the beginning.
"But why does it taste different when different people cook?" Chagum insisted.
"That's the way it is," Balsa said and she kept sharpening her spear.
"Perhaps it has something to do with the personal touch," Tanda said. "Do you want to help me tomorrow so we can find yours?"
Chagum had already helped Balsa and Tanda before, but he still agreed; there was a chance he'd pick up something new this once now that he was paying attention.
What he didn't know was that Tanda was planning on and letting the boy do most of the work and supervising only so neither food nor boy got burned.
It was then that Chagum understood why Balsa was frowning all the time as she cooked. Besides, curiously enough, Chagum's soup ended up being edible yet not exactly remarkable.
He took note of this as he formulated a new hypothesis: good cooking had to do with practice, which was back with the notion that Balsa had spent years on the road while Tanda was inside a house where pots and spices abounded.
Chagum put it to the test: he kept on cooking. A couple of weeks later, he'd indeed, improved, and he did feel more at ease when he dropped vegetables in a boiling pot, but he didn't feel the pacing was good enough.
"Maybe I need years," he told to himself one day as he was putting some balm on his scalded fingers.
"Is there something bothering you, boy?" Torogai asked all of the sudden when she saw him, as she walked into the room.
"I was thinking that it would take me years to learn how to cook properly," Chagum sense.
"Nonsense. You cook good enough, specially if you take into account where you came from."
"I'm not as good as Tanda," Chagum said.
Torogai laughed. "That's what's worrying you? Well, Tanda does have a certain skill, yes, but I'm sure you've tasted far better than that."
Chagum didn't answer to that question; it was obvious either way. "Then, it is about talent?"
"What is?"
"Cooking. I mean, it's different from person to person."
Torogai stared at Chagum for a second and then she laughed again, this time louder and for longer. "That's what you've been worried about these days? And here I was thinking I was going to have Tanda talking to you about... Oh, never mind, he'd do that later anyway."
Chagum understood what Torogai meant, and he had the basics covered, but saying so would've been rude, so he kept quiet.
"Well, yes," Torogai said once she'd topped laughing. "It has a lot to do with talent, but also with something else, something softer hearts call 'a secret ingredient'."
Chagum tilted his head slightly, wondering if that had to do with the first conclusion he'd reached when he began investigating the matter. He looked questioningly at Torogai, but she kept her eyes fixed to the wall, sending the clear message that she wasn't going to say it.
Chagum inhaled and began, "Is it--?"
"Yes," Torogai interrupted.
Well, that solved it. And it made sense, even though it wasn't exactly an ingredient but a way to do things: after all, you could do everything with love if you really cared about the recipient.
Not that Balsa didn't care, she just had other ways of showing it.
Chagum smiled, satisfied with himself, his answer and his family.
He wasn't going to stop cooking now and then for all of them, though. Now that he knew, no scalded fingers in the world would stop him.
Fandom: Seirei no Moribito
Characters/Pairings: Chagum, Balsa, Tanda, Torogai
Rating: PG
Length: +950 words.
Summary: Chagum wants to know why Tanda's food taste better than Balsa's.
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: Written for the "Food, cooking and mealtimes" prompt from the cliche_bingo challenge.
Chagun hadn't seen food been cooked before Balsa took him under her wing. Certainly, he knew there was a process between the raw food and what he found on his plate --Shuga had explained that much to him-- but he'd never witnessed it; he'd never been allowed near the kitchen of the palace. That was why, after they moved to the mill and whenever he had the chance, he liked to sit down and observe how the meat changed color and the rice grew and went softer.
All the changes the vegetables went through amazed him, but there was one thing that confused him the most.
Given that the process was more or less the same, there shouldn't be an actual difference between what two different persons cooked. The same kind of ingredients were used, it was done in about the same time, sometimes, even the same knives and pans were used. But, no, it soon became clear that the comparison was pointless.
Tanda's food tasted better than Balsa's and that was it. Not that Balsa's was inedible, it was just less good.
Trying to figure out the mystery, Chagum started to pay more attention to both of then when they were cooking. He did find out that Balsa was all serious the whole time; her frown wasn't as pronounced as the one she wore when she practiced with her spear, but it was there, nevertheless. On the other hand, Tanda only frowned when he was picking the ingredients, or when he was deciding what he would prepare the next day. Other than that, his expression was soft and tender, a little more than when he prepared his medicines, but a lot less than when he looked at an inattentive Balsa.
Chagum, then, got to a conclusion.
To confirm it, however, he went to both of them and asked them about what they thought it was the secret for cooking a good meal. Unfortunately, even though they weren't together when he asked, they both gave him the same answer, which could be summarized as, "Gather good ingredients and follow the recipe." That just didn't help because it was the source of his question in the first place, which sent him back to the beginning.
"But why does it taste different when different people cook?" Chagum insisted.
"That's the way it is," Balsa said and she kept sharpening her spear.
"Perhaps it has something to do with the personal touch," Tanda said. "Do you want to help me tomorrow so we can find yours?"
Chagum had already helped Balsa and Tanda before, but he still agreed; there was a chance he'd pick up something new this once now that he was paying attention.
What he didn't know was that Tanda was planning on and letting the boy do most of the work and supervising only so neither food nor boy got burned.
It was then that Chagum understood why Balsa was frowning all the time as she cooked. Besides, curiously enough, Chagum's soup ended up being edible yet not exactly remarkable.
He took note of this as he formulated a new hypothesis: good cooking had to do with practice, which was back with the notion that Balsa had spent years on the road while Tanda was inside a house where pots and spices abounded.
Chagum put it to the test: he kept on cooking. A couple of weeks later, he'd indeed, improved, and he did feel more at ease when he dropped vegetables in a boiling pot, but he didn't feel the pacing was good enough.
"Maybe I need years," he told to himself one day as he was putting some balm on his scalded fingers.
"Is there something bothering you, boy?" Torogai asked all of the sudden when she saw him, as she walked into the room.
"I was thinking that it would take me years to learn how to cook properly," Chagum sense.
"Nonsense. You cook good enough, specially if you take into account where you came from."
"I'm not as good as Tanda," Chagum said.
Torogai laughed. "That's what's worrying you? Well, Tanda does have a certain skill, yes, but I'm sure you've tasted far better than that."
Chagum didn't answer to that question; it was obvious either way. "Then, it is about talent?"
"What is?"
"Cooking. I mean, it's different from person to person."
Torogai stared at Chagum for a second and then she laughed again, this time louder and for longer. "That's what you've been worried about these days? And here I was thinking I was going to have Tanda talking to you about... Oh, never mind, he'd do that later anyway."
Chagum understood what Torogai meant, and he had the basics covered, but saying so would've been rude, so he kept quiet.
"Well, yes," Torogai said once she'd topped laughing. "It has a lot to do with talent, but also with something else, something softer hearts call 'a secret ingredient'."
Chagum tilted his head slightly, wondering if that had to do with the first conclusion he'd reached when he began investigating the matter. He looked questioningly at Torogai, but she kept her eyes fixed to the wall, sending the clear message that she wasn't going to say it.
Chagum inhaled and began, "Is it--?"
"Yes," Torogai interrupted.
Well, that solved it. And it made sense, even though it wasn't exactly an ingredient but a way to do things: after all, you could do everything with love if you really cared about the recipient.
Not that Balsa didn't care, she just had other ways of showing it.
Chagum smiled, satisfied with himself, his answer and his family.
He wasn't going to stop cooking now and then for all of them, though. Now that he knew, no scalded fingers in the world would stop him.
no subject
And awwww. Yes, Chagum. Your dad loves you and your mom a lot, she's just rather clueless.
no subject