Owner	Pose
Lucifer	Fish fresh from the market. Half and half, and other things requested from the grocer. He looked thicker, more like vicar...but he had to be grocer - he was green. Or sommat like that. Musical jokes aside, Lucifer was a good man and got all the things his Sinister asked for. Plus all the wood and materials to build the deck outside. The deck could wait though...tonight they would be making sure to make fish pie fit for the surrounding community that was so nice to accept them so quickly. Stepford Wives anyone? At least he doesn't *think* anyone is intending to turn his Sinister into a mind-numbed robot slave anytime soon. That'd be kinda weird and he wouldn't like that. He comes through the door with bags in hand. "My love! I have returned! And tonight, we cook!"
Sinister	Oh, that would be such a weird situation to face. Although the truth of it is, someone might try such a thing on Miss Sin and she'd quickly end up with a dozen women all dressing goth or in Victoria's secret underwear, following her around whilst she wore a very smug look on her face. As it is, there's some Capital Years music playing on the music system, which is as modern as the cottage is rustic. "~Oh, the shark has pearly teeth dear, and he shows them pearly white..." with on-tune humming coming from the kitchen, where unbelievable though it might be, she's stooped over a recipe book, with weights and measures laid out. The recipe book at least, looks quite old and hand-written, which may say volumes. "Did you get everything you were after?" Is called out "...and did you get your flirt on? I bet you did, I can picture the flattered femmes about town and I'm no doubt going to hear about it later." She appears in the archway of the kitchen, given that it's open plan to the hall and leans against the wall. "Hello handsome. Welcome home." There's a mimosa in hand, for a change, because sometimes mango-orange and champagne is just tasty.
Lucifer	"I did. Stuff to make the deck, a smoker and grill, and all the groceries you asked for..." Lucifer offers as he moves into the kitchen and puts all the bags down. "All sorts of fish, giving the specifics of what we were looking for. Some clean and some a bit more oily." At that question about getting his flirt on, he gives a little smirk. "The cashier was an especially delightful thing. Even if she has a bit of daddy trauma..." This and then he shifts back into the archway between hall and kitchen, looking Sinister over a moment. "Then again...who doesn't have daddy issues these days.." Leaning in to offer a tender kiss. "Did we find a good recipe to use?"
Sinister	Sinister returns the kiss with a little linger. Let it linger! She holds up the mimosa to him another floating to the archway for her to claim in her other hand, nodding to him. "Modern parenting, I swear, we've got entire generations of people with the strangest hang-ups..." she clucks her tongue "...once upon a time, we got really gritty daddy issues, didn't we? Hard caning for failing grades, all manner of disappointments given in a single look, threats of disinheritance, tossed down to Hell and banished from the Silver City." She gives him a half-smile in return for the smirk, but nods, with a flash of eyes and a gesture of her glass. "We did..." Leading the way over to the recipe book, she indicates the neat but somewhat poorly spelled lexicon on the page, whose challenge is going to be working out how much a 'dollop' equates to and how much 'three pinches' actually is. "This belonged to a cook in employ who made a particularly good pie. But I am sure you can see my issue..." -- One whole turbin, a punnet of cockles -- "...this might take a bit of work."
Lucifer	Lucifer lets that kiss linger a bit before breaking it off and taking the offered mimosa. "Yes well... sometimes daddy issues can lead to fun times. More often than not it just leads to light flirting, the promise for more, and then letting them hang on to that hope for a bit." Then there's a bit of a grin as they move back into the kitchen and she shows him the recipe book she's been reading over for a bit. "Ah.. old style recipes when people just sort of threw things together and called it good." He offers with a laugh. "Hmmn... wish there was a sort of book that actually translated what all these different words mean..." He then looks down the listed ingredients. "A punnet of cockles? The fuck is a punnet?"
Sinister	Sinister slaps a dixie cup on the counter from a stack. "That, more or less. The punnets of cockles used to be a kind of paper cone you'd buy full of the shellfish, already boiled -- and they'd give you a wooden spork thing to eat them with, or a cocktail stick, before cocktail sticks were being used that way. Winklepickers we used to call them... which became the name for Super high, super thin stilettos. And those very narrow point shoes that some men wore in the forties and fifties." SInister grins, looking at him across her shoulder. "So we've at least got the punnet figured out. I am lost on what a glob is. Or a globbet, she sometimes uses that term, too. I think it's probably as much as was held on a wooden spoon, or something of that ilk." She also has to hipcheck him. "You know, you're going to cause all kinds of naughty dreams about town. All that flirting, those poor cashiers are going to give me the evils. Which is amusing, I must say." A hand is slapped on the counter. "Well, at least I know what a turbit is. It's a badly spelled turbot. But we don't need to use that, if you got hake... that is dogfish, we can use that. I think we're looking at one whole dogfish and a fillet of mackerel, for the actual fish content. I think we're supposed to use the cockles initially for a soup-like base. Add the celery and the onions, we'll be putting the potato, the cream and the tarragon into the actual white-sauce that we make after the base has rendered. So. It's all over to you, with the pinches and the dollops, because I am totally lost."
Lucifer	"How much would you love me if I told you I already got us freshly cockled fish stock?" Lucifer asks as he shifts over one other bag that has about a gallons worth (four quart sized containers) of fish stock. "We can use this for testing and then when we have it down, we can make a fish stock tomorrow...or I can go get more pre-made fresh stock from the fish market. Tommy has a hankering for some fresh legs...and I think I know just who to send his way. Then I might be able to get the stock for free. And Gina, she's the clerk at the grocer, is liable to give me a discount any time I wink her way..." Bragging? Maybe. But in truth it's just how his day went, really, "Pinches and dollops. I'll see if I can find out much, but really I think it's just what fits betwixt pinched fingers, and rolled onto a spoon."
Sinister	"Oh. Well, that actually makes sense. See how I am, right? I'm too precise." Sinister chuckles, but laughs further at the imagination of his day. "Doesn't matter where you get your appetite, right? As long as you come home for dinner." That truism shared, she also looks at some of the rest of the recipe. "Not that it matters to us, it's not going to kill us, but I cannot possibly argue for braising the entire of the fish for the pie, in an entire pat of butter. We're using olive oil." This declared, she looks at the stock quarts, her eyes gleaming and then? Then she clears her throat and gets one of their copper pans, slapping it on the hob. A look is given him and she looks at the oil bottle, measures with her eyes and pours about half a cup into the pan, lets it heat up and goes to examine the fish that was purchased. Mackerel set aside, she hunts through the white fish. Hopefully he did get hake. Either way, whatever was fresh and local, she washes and prepares to drop in the heated oil. "I'm going to do it. I am. I'm going to attempt... cooking. Be prepared to catch me."
Lucifer	"Precision is everything sometimes in cooking, love, so it's good to be such. I just figured if we fuck up anything, at least we're not using our own fishy goodness. We can save that for when we got it right." Lucifer offers with a smile and then watches. Even though she's claimed to have never cooked, there's a way she goes about preparing things that shows she's got some skills. "It's a science. That's all it is. You're doing science. With stuff that's edible rather than..." He makes a gesture. "Injectable." Then he smirks. She'll find mackerel, hake, cod, haddock, and some other delicate white fish for some reason for another. Likely texture and maybe flavor. "I'm right here, love. You won't fall too far."
Sinister	Hake is a bugger. But it's also lovely, when you can take OUT the bone easily. Do not order hake at a chippy. They deep fry it with the bone in and you impale your gums. As it is, the whole fish fiasco goes as follows: Hake goes in, spatters and crackles like it's going out of style, which causes a mild panic from Sinister, who slaps the lid on the pan, mutters to herself a good deal and turns DOWN the heat, fumbling along to cod, haddock and after about two minutes, the mackerel. Amazingly, there's only a brief moment of the olive oil going to 'smoke point' -- but this is significant, as it fills the entire kitchen with steam and slightly smokey vapours and another panic. You can read about it, doing it is a different thing when you're trying to show off. After the windows and deck door have been opened and the entire lower floor now smells of fish, she thrusts the wooden spatula at Lucifer. "Nope. I can do flash braise, but I am going t trust the entire nuance of balance to you. Sorry. But I'm going to watch... promise."
Lucifer	Lucifer takes the spatula, offers a kiss and then moves in to play chef. The fish in the oil gets moved to a back hob with no fire for the moment. Over the fire goes a medium sized sauce pan. Lucifer preps onion, celery and carrot, dicing them all into cubes and tossing them into the pot one by one. A small glug of cooking wine and they're off to the races. He'll let those cook for several minutes, to sweat down until just cooked. Once the veggies are almost there, he pours in a little stock to deglaze the bottom of the pot, then pours in the rest to bring it up to simmering. He somewhat follows the recipe, but he also follows his heart. A pinch of this, dash of that, dollop of whatever the hell. Then he sets a lid on the pot and smiles. "Alright. That will simmer and reduce a bit, then we'll add some more stock, simmer that back down...but that will take a bit. Now..." He looks. "Is it hot water crust pastry or..."
Sinister	Sinister has been taking breaths and yes, she did watch. Watch like a hawk! The whole business leaves her with a look of admiration barely contained, but swiftly hidden with all manner of fussing over other things. Putting dirty things in the sink for one. She looks to him with a blank expression for a moment, then with a stare into thin air, proffers: "Hot water crust, yes. I think I found a patty pan..." she hunts for what she found, which is a ceramic black bird with holes in its base and its beak open, also with another hole "...Um." Yep, flustered again, as she's out of her element. "Unless you know how to keep the crust from sagging, when it's baked? I don't know. I just ate them." Somehow, she sounds like a child. And that in itself, tells a story over the recipe.
Lucifer	Lucifer seems to think while reading the recipe and then nods. "Yes. Right. Hot-water pastry is what is used. It has lard and butter in it which helps the dough keep firm and so long as the filling isn't /too/ wet..." Then he thinks again. "Or... could just put it in the bottom of a baking pan and top it with a rough pastry..." He thinks on it a moment. "Hot water crust is more for meat pies like pork or beef that you bake from raw in the oven...if I remember..." Oh now he's second guessing himself. He looks to the black bird ceramic and smiles. "This is pretty. Where did you find this?"
Sinister	"Little cooking place in New York. Brooklyn. They sold tangines, which is where I got ours from." Yes, they have a tangine. "Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie... I think that's what it comes from. Children's rhymes." She babbles, because the rest is causing her to stare. Soggy bottom alert! Soggy bottom alert! "What? I mean... hot-water pastry crust, lard, butter, /what/?" Pause, beat. "Tell me what I have to do!"
Lucifer	"Nathanielle. Darling." Lucifer turns and sets hands on her shoulders. "Take a breath, my love. Okay?" Then he holds a hand out and a book from some other room comes floating into the kitchen. "Here. This is a more modern cook book. It has a recipe for hot-water pastry... and pastry is REALLY a science." This and he smiles. "Don't panic. We're doing fine...okay?"
Sinister	Sinister's eyes darted to his, as soon as her name and 'darling' got used, which meant as the panic subsided to her wanting to kick herself, the book is a thing to be clutched, which she does. The hands on her shoulders were a help. If only the world at large could see this, she'd never be taken seriously again. Ever. A moment spent on the index for recipes, then flicking straight to the page, cupboard doors open to float out mixing bowl to her as flour, butter from outside of the fridge, salt and the kettle itself come into play. What results is a methodical scientific approach to getting the exact right proportions, rubbing the flour, measuring the boiled water to add and the obsessive compulsive kneading of the end result, whilst Lucifer works his magic, that would make a machinist proud.
Lucifer	Making pastry, or doing anything for baking, is a science. So he knew Sinister would excel at that. He checks the filling that's bubbling away and then nods. "I don't know if the black bird will be good for this, but we can try it if you want." He'd hate for her to have fetched it and then they not use it after all. None the less, their first attempt at making fish pie had a bit of flailing, a little panicking, and a lot of wondering how recipes with pinches, dollops, and punnets translate. All in all, a minor success, that has rewards both in and out of the kitchen...