Partner

Took about an hour to write this. As. While I'm fairly good in the kitchen. I had to edit out the herbs that I knew Mik didn't know and such on. Mik's really trying to pay attention, as is likely obvious. Though... unless the program wants the recipe, not much sense in it, I suppose.

Read, Review and enjoy.




“Not what I had in mind,” Mik muttered, twirling the rosemary stick in hot water as Paw watched him.

Paw looked from the water, to Mik’s hand, to Mik’s face and back again. The frown deepened and the Sidhe rumbled to himself.

“What exactly is this supposed to do?” Mik asked Paw.

The Sidhe gave a half-hearted growl at Mik and turned to the spices he had laid out. He selected the garlic paste, as Paw had worked it into a paste while Mik searched for the rosemary upstairs. The paste was plopped into a bowl and Paw very carefully ladled the warm water they had set aside to ‘add’ to the pot as it cooked off. He mixed the two, not really achieving much with it all, and then dumped the contents of the bowl into the pot. While almost dumping the bowl along with it.

Paw tapped his lower lip and leaned over the pot, sniffing at the air above the water. He turned to the thyme and tore it quickly off its little branches before tossing it into the mortar and pestle. At least, that’s what Mik thought they were called. Dark rounds of something and salt went into the bowl. Some sort of small, round and flat seed. Paw ground it all up and glanced up at Mik.

“Stir. Stir!”

“Oops,” Mik muttered, continuing his careful circles in the pot with the rosemary branch.

Paw gave the air over the pot another sniff and sighed. He set down the mortar and pestle beside the pot and left the kitchen, heading for the living room. A moment later he returned with more rosemary. This he tied together with the baker’s string he had ‘borrowed’ from Essuan and dropped it into the pot, leaving a bit of string tied to the handle. Almost like a tea bag. Except with rosemary.

Mik was starting to worry about what Paw was making. A bunch of herbs and spices and no food in sight? What was this, some kind of… pre-birth ritual?

Of course that was working under the assumption that this was for Essuan. For all Mik knew… it was for him.

Paw frowned at his mortar and pestle mess and went to the fridge. He pulled out a lime and a lemon and sliced them neatly in half. Squeezed the juices of both into the bowl that had had the garlic in it, then popped the seeds out of what was left and popped them into the mortar and pestle. Then, and only then, did Paw neatly and expertly slice the … coloured bits off of the lemon and lime and slice and dice them into fine bits before tossing those into the mortar and pestle.

The Sidhe considered the lump of colour and poked gently at the seeds as if considering. Then he looked up at Mik and back down at the seeds.

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never heard of someone eating lemon seeds. Though. I doubt it could hurt you. Pass right through,” Mik muttered.

Paw gave a deft nod and went about grinding the whole lot together. Once it was to his satisfaction, Paw carefully transferred the ground, sort of thick pasty mix into the bowl with the lemon and lime and very carefully mixed it. The bowl was near to overflowing but Paw managed it somehow.

Paw sniffed it all and seemed to consider. He pulled some honey out of the fridge and added a dollop of that before mixing it in and giving another sniff. Seemingly satisfied, the Sidhe dumped the lumpy paste into the water Mik was stirring with the rosemary stick.

“Do I still have to-”

“Yesh, auh, auh mean yes.” Paw looked at Mik expectantly.

“Auh,” Mik muttered.

Paw gave a nod and grabbed some large flat leaves and one herb Mik knew. Parsley.

“Should you really be putting parsley in?” Mik asked.

Paw looked at the parsley and his eyes grew wide, he flicked the stuff off of the cutting board with the end of his knife and rolled the flat leaves together before slicing them very thinly. That he tossed onto the top of the water.

Mik had been joking about the parsley. When he said as much, Paw grunted.

“Parsley, fine in one or two bits. But large doses can make woman… upset…” Paw muttered, “dun want womanlies upset.”

“Ah,” Mik said as if he understood.

“Auh.” Paw corrected.

Several other leaves went into the mix. Something that smelled like liquorish was ground up and popped into the water.

“Is this some sort of… secret recipe?”

“Yes.”

“Is it… healthy?” Mik winced.

“Very. All Sidhe recipe healthy.”

“Can… people eat it?” like playing twenty questions.

“Yes. Paw make recipe people can eat. So people enjoy like Sidhe enjoy.”

“Oh.” drink or food… Mik skipped over that one and sighed out, “when’s the party?”

“Party? Ooooh. Dusk.”

“Dusk. That’s … evening?”

“Yesh.”

“For. Essuan’s baby?”

“Yesh. First baby be born to tribe. Essuan now verily certain she give birth to live ones. So. Now Sidhe may celebrate.”

“Ah. With… a … potluck?”

“All Sidhe party potlucks.”

“Good to know. Should the people be bringing anything?”

Paw stopped fussing with the herbs and seemed to consider for a very long time. He chewed his bottom lip and finally said, “People should bring food of representing people cultures. But same time. Should try and bring some that Sidhe can eat, and people can eat. Like Paw leave ants out of soup.”

“Ants?” Mik said in a strangled voice.

“Ants very good. Lots protein. Lots flavour. Thems good stuff.”

“I don’t doubt. Though,” Mik winced at the idea that he was actually saying this, “people can eat ants.”

“People can eat poop too, but they don’t.”

“Do Sidhe?”

“No. Not less starving. Then certain deer and big animals with horns are good way to survive.”

“Why not just eat the animal?”

Paw looked at Mik like the man had said something crazy, “a’cause animal bigger’n’you.”

Mik turned back to the water and resumed stirring, not quite understanding that bit. Unless of course, the Sidhe believed in eating an animal they killed all in one sitting. Sort of like a snake. Which would make sense. Sort of.

“Right,” Mik muttered.

The Sidhe gave Mik a look before sniffing the air over the water once more. Paw gave a nod and moved to the fridge to riffle through the shelves for various vegetables and the extra chicken Paw had cooked from the night before. And the extra veal from two nights before.

“Two meats?”

“Sidhe meal. Mik only stir pot ‘less wants only play with one stick today.”

So Mik bit his tongue and stirred the water.

Paw added potatoes and carrots and celery and onion all at once. Which puzzled Mik, but one look from Paw reminded him to keep his mouth shut. As the water boiled, Paw added a bit of corn, diced turnip, the stalk bits of broccoli and cauliflower, all nicely chopped up into manageable pieces. Some kind of green beat and then the chicken and the veal. When all was said and done, there was a rather thick stew type thing cooking away on the stove and Mik was having trouble stirring it any more.

“Drop stick into water,” Paw murmured, searching through the cupboards for the pot’s lid.

Mik obeyed and opened the drawer under the stove, pulling out a pizza pan. He placed it over the top of the pot and shrugged at Paw’s quizzical look, “we used to lose covers all the time.”

“Ah.”

“What now?”

“Now,” Paw turned the stove down really low, “now Mik can play with stick.”


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