The Pie Maker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wordvomit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2014-10-13 10:29 am
wordvomit) wrote in entranceway2014-10-13 10:29 am
Entry tags:
- dead like me: george lass,
- dominion: gabriel,
- dominion: michael,
- frozen: elsa,
- fruits basket: tohru honda,
- hannibal: alana bloom,
- hannibal: will graham,
- marvel: darcy lewis,
- marvel: thor odinson,
- persona 4: seta souji,
- pushing daisies: ned,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- supernatural: jo harvelle,
- the wild road: cy,
- x-men: raven darkholme
4th π | video | It's That Time of Year
[Well into October, Ned starts to feel grim
A reminder of Autumn's old pang eats at him
The leaves changing colors, red, yellow and brown
Serve to bring the resident Pie Maker down
But what is the reason? you ask, mildly wary
A dislike of ghosts, or something more scary?
Perhaps a less silly approach, if you please
Halloween's on its way, and the facts are these:
When Ned was nine years, thirty-four weeks, seventeen minutes and four seconds old, he received the one and only postcard he would ever get from his father while attending the Longborough School for Boys in North Thrush. It came on Hallow's Eve, a holiday ripe for the picking by children decked up as witches and warlocks, ghouls and goblins - but the only thing more terrifying than the idea of whatever mythical creatures might be lurking in the dark was the pre-printed message on the back of the postcard: We've moved.
Young Ned tracked the origins of the postcard to a small house in a pleasant neighborhood, bedecked with festive decorations and Jack-O-Lanterns. Dressed as a ghost in a sheet he sought to ascertain his wayward father's whereabouts and, hopefully, come home. But what emerged from the little white door in the front was not a welcoming party, but his father with two new sons and a brand-new wife, preparing for an evening of Trick-or-Treating.
The last thing Ned's father said to him was a genial Happy Halloween as he handed the boy dressed as a ghost a Honeycomb Chew and walked away with his family - for the first time that evening Ned felt as though he were one with his chosen costume.]
...okay. So. I didn't want to have to make an announcement, but since there's been an increase in requests for...thematically seasonal pies, I'm putting up a list outside the diner and on the network.
[The list itself reads, in perfectly legible script:
Chess Pie
Pecan Pie
Apple-Cranberry Pie
Tart Cherry Pie
Dutch Apple Pie
Triple-Pear Pie
Sweet Potato Pie
Maple Cream Pie
Observant residents may note that pumpkin does not appear on Ned's list, as he is vehemently opposed to everything that it stands for. Out of frame a dog whines, and the Pie Maker stoops to pat Derby on the head before continuing.]
I know we have the- uh, capacity and ability to have all kinds of fresh fruit year-round- [And not just because he can touch dead things and bring them back to life.] -but it's kinda how we do things at The Pie Hole, so...it's...how I'm doing them here. I also know it's pretty easy to ask the kitchen to give you a slice of pie, but I thought I might offer lessons in case anyone...wanted to learn. How to bake.
[There is a long, awkward pause before he decides he's had enough social interaction, and cuts the feed.]
A reminder of Autumn's old pang eats at him
The leaves changing colors, red, yellow and brown
Serve to bring the resident Pie Maker down
But what is the reason? you ask, mildly wary
A dislike of ghosts, or something more scary?
Perhaps a less silly approach, if you please
Halloween's on its way, and the facts are these:
When Ned was nine years, thirty-four weeks, seventeen minutes and four seconds old, he received the one and only postcard he would ever get from his father while attending the Longborough School for Boys in North Thrush. It came on Hallow's Eve, a holiday ripe for the picking by children decked up as witches and warlocks, ghouls and goblins - but the only thing more terrifying than the idea of whatever mythical creatures might be lurking in the dark was the pre-printed message on the back of the postcard: We've moved.
Young Ned tracked the origins of the postcard to a small house in a pleasant neighborhood, bedecked with festive decorations and Jack-O-Lanterns. Dressed as a ghost in a sheet he sought to ascertain his wayward father's whereabouts and, hopefully, come home. But what emerged from the little white door in the front was not a welcoming party, but his father with two new sons and a brand-new wife, preparing for an evening of Trick-or-Treating.
The last thing Ned's father said to him was a genial Happy Halloween as he handed the boy dressed as a ghost a Honeycomb Chew and walked away with his family - for the first time that evening Ned felt as though he were one with his chosen costume.]
...okay. So. I didn't want to have to make an announcement, but since there's been an increase in requests for...thematically seasonal pies, I'm putting up a list outside the diner and on the network.
[The list itself reads, in perfectly legible script:
Pecan Pie
Apple-Cranberry Pie
Tart Cherry Pie
Dutch Apple Pie
Triple-Pear Pie
Sweet Potato Pie
Maple Cream Pie
Observant residents may note that pumpkin does not appear on Ned's list, as he is vehemently opposed to everything that it stands for. Out of frame a dog whines, and the Pie Maker stoops to pat Derby on the head before continuing.]
I know we have the- uh, capacity and ability to have all kinds of fresh fruit year-round- [And not just because he can touch dead things and bring them back to life.] -but it's kinda how we do things at The Pie Hole, so...it's...how I'm doing them here. I also know it's pretty easy to ask the kitchen to give you a slice of pie, but I thought I might offer lessons in case anyone...wanted to learn. How to bake.
[There is a long, awkward pause before he decides he's had enough social interaction, and cuts the feed.]
video unless Ned is in the diner, in which case this is action
What's in a maple cream pie?
[Somehow, he's less curious about "chess pie".]
DINER DAYZ
[A bowl of which Ned happens to be reaching for right now, smiling a little crookedly at Souji. They know each other in passing, only as working acquaintances in the diner, but the kid is all right.]
And eggs, and cream, and- um, butter...a thickener...
[Does he need to go on?]
FINALLY
Can I try it?
/SOBS BROKENLY INTO HANDS
[Ned must first retrieve said pie from its cooling rack, smell it for half an instant to determine the temperature, and acquire a knife.
For whatever reason Ned has always known when a pie is done, but he wouldn't want the custard to still be hot enough that it resembles liquid magma. Slicing and removing a piece carefully, he plates the dessert and slides it across the counter.]
It's still pretty warm.
no subject
Maple-y.
[He's deadpan, but he's kidding. He takes another bite.]
I like it.
This should be my job. [Pie-tasting.]
no subject
You'll welcome to it - the position should probably be filled.
no subject
[Souji continues to eat his slice of pie, eyeing the others as they cool. He's coming for you, pies.]
Why do you like baking pies?
[It is officially Get to Know Ned Time.]
no subject
[he replies instantly, fingertips tightening on the rag. Ned's eye twitches the way it does when he lies. Perhaps he should amend that to provide a little more truth.]
My...mom used to bake pie a lot. I started making it myself when I was in school- ah, it was a boarding school.
no subject
no subject
[For some unfathomable reason there is an odd stigma against cooking classes in an all-boys school, as if spending time in the kitchen would somehow render masculinity void. Secret baking in the middle of the night was the only way that Young Ned could slip into a role he felt wasn't supposed to be defined by one particular gender.
He always thought it was sort of gross that women in the kitchen were more often regarded as cooks, and men were chefs.]
I maybe snuck into the kitchen. Uh. A few times. To bake. Like a vigilante of pastries.
no subject
[Souji takes a moment to fully appreciate that image before moving on.]
I learn to cook by trial and error. Sometimes it's really bad.
no subject
S-Sometimes that's the best way, though? To learn, I mean. It's not easy, but you find out pretty quickly what not to do. I went to a culinary school later on, which helped.
[Even if his Tortes of Europe teacher was terrifying.]
no subject
Where'd you go to school?
no subject
[The Pie Maker never travelled far. He felt strange wandering from home for extensive periods of time, as he always has.]
I just ended up being really good at pies. They're less pretentious than tarts.
no subject
Is there anything else you like to bake? Or cook.
no subject
[He nods sagely.]
If it wasn't so time-consuming I'd try to make home-made cannelloni a staple in the diner.
no subject
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That's...not a bad idea. We'd have to start early in the morning, and the whole process probably takes about two days. It's a labor of love.
no subject
Why does it take two days?
no subject
[Long and time-consuming and worth it, although Ned usually makes himself a vegetarian version with mushrooms and eggplant as opposed to the usual meat-filled center.]
The bechamel sauce and sauteed filling take the least amount of time, but for a good home-made tomato base, you have to start the day before. Not to mention the pasta itself- I mean, if you want it done with pasta then making it from scratch takes about a day, and if you'd rather substitute crepe batter you still have to wait overnight for it to chill properlyI'msorryI kind of...sound like an ass. Uh.
[A beat.]
...I like pasta.
no subject
If there's something you love to do, then doing it right is important.