(no subject)

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

Time: Late afternoon, 25 July 2000
Place: The Manor Grounds
Status: Public
Summary: The Barbecue

Severus had prepared for this extensively, had done research as soon as he was told that he needed to provide food for a ‘barbecue’. Well, that was American, wasn’t it? A newly-published book titled The Great American Barbecue and Grilling Manual was his starting point. (The words ‘great’ and ‘American’ did not belong in the same sentence, although perhaps he might be mistaken, never having been to America.) After learning that this was not merely an American cuisine but a regional (Southern) American cuisine, he began to specialise. Having found a butcher to bring a pig and something to cook it over (yes, the whole pig, you dolt) he learned that it could have been done with a goat as it had been in the Caribbean, and with less effort.

Having put forth effort already, he pushed ahead. The intensive labour required to prepare food by the slow ‘barbecue’ method had been provided by Remus Lupin, although he surely did not understand when he volunteered exactly what it was he’d be doing. The butcher himself was also interested and so Snape had ‘invited’ him to come and help. Work for the day, eat. Bring your family with you and they can help and eat also. Only if they help. Severus’ labour shortage crisis solved.

The whole concept of barbecue sauce was confusing, so he’d made three kinds. Two for public consumption—a South Carolina style with mustard, vinegar and black pepper that seemed reasonable enough. Kansas City style that was thick, red-brown, and gloppy, made with a tomato base and molasses. The third was for Crowley, a Texas-style sauce amusingly named ‘Devil’s Spit’ made from a tomato base with cumin and hot chiles. These American chiles being unavailable, he procured an Oriental variety that were infinitely hotter. Let him call that bland.

Chicken would go on, although not for as long as the blasted pig, and sausages for the unadventurous. The Brunswick Stew might end up in the restaurant under ‘American Cuisine’. It was simple enough, with a tomato base, lima beans (or any beans), corn, other vegetables, and meat. Traditionally rabbit or squirrel but he could use leftover pork, chicken, beef or even cut-up sausages. Basically, a fine way to rid himself of leftover almost anything and he revised his opinion of American ingenuity. The true test would be Crowley’s opinion. If he disapproved, it was definitely going on the menu.

Okra and sweet potatoes proved impossible to procure. Field greens—of the turnip variety—were simple enough to cook in some of the extra pig fat. Black-eyed peas, which looked an awful lot like beans, with bacon. He made carrots in sauce of butter and brown sugar that seemed terribly French, but he simply shrugged. There would be green peas—not mushy, unfortunately, which would have made Crowley complain and Snape smile, a dish of fried apples that was a side dish, apparently popular with pork, and potato salad. It was a source of annoyance that the recipe he found for this called for red potatoes that did not need to be peeled. How brilliant would it have been to set Lupin to peeling potatoes for his own requested potato salad?

Cornbread was simple enough to make, although all the different names and types confused him. The concept of beaten biscuits was repulsive so he settled on cheddar biscuits instead. American biscuits, he found, were a bread roll that seemed a bizarre combination of bap, scone, and crumpet. But they were a Southern staple and very simple to make. Devilled eggs—also simple, seemingly French—were another extra dish along with pickles of varied types. He refused to make grits—porridge was bad enough at breakfast and he would certainly not serve it in any other time.

Cold tea, sweet, with or without lemon was also a disgusting concept. Lemonade, if people wished to drink it. Lupin had to deal with squeezing the lemons, too. He had procured some Bourbon and Belial would, he imagined, not object if any leftover made its way to the bar. Mint juleps required it. Mint grew in the garden and sugar was a staple.

Having no sweet potatoes with which to make sweet potato pie, which seemed unpleasant anyway, he went with pecan pie. It was too sweet, but someone would eat it. Pound cake with whipped cream (another job for Lupin) and blackberry cobbler, which was enough like local fare for people to be willing to eat it. If he could have found watermelon, that would have been amusing. But messy, so just as well he hadn’t found it.

All in all, it was a great effort on his part, slave labour or no, and people had better appreciate it else he would be extremely put out.

"Let Wensleydale handle things in the kitchen, Lupin. The butcher will take care of serving the meat. You can clear plates and make sure the dishes are all filled." He had planned this. "The butcher's wife can help with drinks. The children have been disposed of."

Out of the way, nothing more sinister. Eating now, washing dishes later. Work for food, and a good trade on his part.

"Keep an eye on the biscuits, Wensleydale, and see that they don't burn. And make sure there is plenty of ice."

He turned.

"No, mint juleps are not sweets, get away from me, you silly child." Weren't they supposed to be on the far side of the lawn, eating their supper?

Attention Edit: As of this point the Devil's Spit sauce is no longer on the serving table but in Snape's hands, doled out by him. Please do not have your character get into it.

Comments

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

"I have something you should try, then," he said smoothly. A little bit of the Devil's Spit barbecue sauce applied to the meat on the young man's plate.

"One of the residents here suggested that my cooking was a bit bland and I made this for him. Perhaps you could give me your opinion on it, enjoying spicy food as you do."

[bullfightposter.livejournal.com]

"Oh, really? Thanks."

Brian took a piece of the sossed chicken and bit into it.

It took a moment.

He put his plate down.

"S'cuse me."

He turned away, dropped hands to knees, and let out a gasping whoop. Then he went over to the table where there was lemonade, and chugged a glass without tasting it.

Pant. Repeat.

Then he came back, grinning and red cheeked. "WICKED. C'n I have some more?"

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

A distinct smirk as the young man reacted to the sauce followed by a raised eyebrow at the request.

"Very well, but only if you don't mention it to anyone," he said. "It's a surprise and there is not enough for everyone, after all."

They made them more and more stupid all the time.

[bullfightposter.livejournal.com]

"Arright. Can I bring my friend Pepper to have a bit, though?" He beamed hopefully at the cook.

He bet he could eat more than Pep any day.

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

Anyone who chose to be friends with this one deserved what they got.

"As long as your friend does not tell anyone else about it," he said magnanimously. "And gives me his opinion of it. That is why I had you try it, after all, to get your honest opinion."

Really.

[bullfightposter.livejournal.com]

"I think s'great!" Brian said, pumping his fist. He needed another glass of lemonade. Funny, though, the last glass had been kind of tasteless. Maybe it was watered down.

He wandered off looking for Pepper. Wouldn't she be surprised.

"Peeep... oh PEEEP... got something for you to try, Pep!"

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

He watched the unnamed young man go off in search of his friend, not caring if he came back or not.

His opinion also didn't matter. 'Great' was not the word he was looking for when it came to this particular sauce. 'Painful' was what he'd been aiming at. He was fairly certain he'd achieved it.

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

Pepper reached Brian with an unimpressed eyebrow already raised. "You shout to beat the devil, you. What you got for me to try, then? This had better be worth it."

[bullfightposter.livejournal.com]

Brian pointed at the dour cook. "The wicked barbecue soss," he said beaming. "You've got to have some!" He was still eating. Funny, it all seemed a bit blander. Maybe it needed soss, too.

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

She stared at him. He had called her over in such a frenzy over barbecue sauce? Well, the sooner she got that overwith, the sooner she could really eat. She was pretty damn hungry, after all. And the food looked delicious.

"All right, do I have to ask him for it or somethin'?" She walked over to the sour-faced man. He did not look like a happy sort. More like the sort that the Them would have enjoyed pelting with silly string when they were little. "Sorry sir, I've been told that I have to try the sauce?"

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

Oh wonderful. The young lady only wanted to do what she was told. If only there had been more like her at Hogwarts...

"Yes, your friend mentioned that you might like it and I was seeking opinions as to whether it was flavourful enough." He nodded. "I've been told that my cooking is too bland. What do you think?"

He put a bit of the sauce on a piece of pork--she hadn't brought anything of her own.

"Your friend enjoyed it." He seemed most genuine about it, too, the fool.

[playswithboys.livejournal.com]

Looking at his face, he really didn't seem the kind of man who worried about what anyone thought, least of all whether or not his cooking was bland. But Brian had insisted, and she figured it couldn't hurt much to try it out. He cook handed her the plate, which Pepper took with a brief "Thanks much," and she proceeded to try a bite of the pork slathered in sauce -

She had turned bright pink in about two seconds. It did not compliment her freckles very well.

Holy hell, it burned like she'd stuck her tongue over an open flame and then poured tabasco sauce over the wound. Pepper normally didn't have a problem with spicy, but this wasn't spicy, it was all-consuming fiery hatred in sauce form.

"Bleeding buggering fuck, Brian! What the hell is that and why did you tell me to - " she managed to scream but couldn't finish, dropping the plate on the grass and running over to the beer that someone had (thankfully) set out, chugging the first can in her reach. The carbonation made it worse, though, so she tried lemonade, but that really wasn't helping either.

The hose. That was the best plan. Brian would get it later.

[bullfightposter.livejournal.com]

"Aw, c'mon, Pep, it's not THAT bad-!" Brian called after her retreating form.

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

So the young idiot's name was Brian. Severus filed that away and tried not to smirk. Being skilled at hiding his emotions, he succeeded.

"So she didn't like it, then?" he asked airily. Brian, or anyone who happened to hear. He didn't expect a response, just turned back to what he'd been doing.

Where was Crowley?

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Speak of the devil...

"So you took my advice as to trying a little thing I like to call flavour?" came a dry voice. "Nice spread, Snape. Looks almost edible."

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

"Almost edible?" Smug bastard. "Have you actually tried anything?"

He needed to know.

"If you haven't, then I would suggest you do before complaining to me about it."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley smirked. "That was a compliment, not a complaint. But, no. I haven't tried any of it yet. What does the chef recommend?"

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

"I suggest you try the pork, as it is the more traditional of barbecue foods. I have two sauces there--and a third variety if you're interested. The greens and carrots are both traditional recipes as is the Brunswick stew. The cornbread is interesting." Never had it before.

He frowned.

"Of course, I'm sure you'll touch none of those things just to spite me." He was not certain of anything, really, did not know Crowley very well.

He had read a lot in order to make these things. If Crowley did not like it he could go elsewhere to eat in the future.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"I'll pass on the greens. You're well aware of my fondness for boiled vegetables. And I've always found cornbread to be dry. But I'll try the pork. What the hell. Can't be worse than the pot roast."

Crowley shrugged and waited for Snape to dish up the food. At least it wasn't standard issue British fare.

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

"Have you a care for which sauce you want?" he asked, taking a small amount of meat on the plate. Not that it mattered what Crowley wanted--he was getting Texas-style a la Snape.

"Always found cornbread to be dry? I've never had it or made it before so I'm pleased to note you're giving my efforts a try. I'll know just how much to be concerned in the future should you have cause to complain again."

No one else had complained about the pot roast, smug, whining bastard.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Whatever tastes like something," said Crowley offhandedly. The pork did smell pretty good.

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

"They all taste like something," he said. They'd had the conversation before. If Crowley hadn't destroyed his tastebuds then he'd know and not require a kilo of curry powder to make his food 'flavourful'.

Well, this should be something.

"Here," he handed the plate over. "But I don't know why I bother as I'm sure it will be inadequate for you."

Just eat it...

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley poked at the food, just to annoy Snape, before stabbing a piece of unsauced pork and chewing on it thoughtfully.

"What do you know? You can actually cook," the demon said, smirking. "See how much better meat can be if you don't boil it to death?"

He took another piece of meat and swirled it liberally in the sauce before popping it in his mouth. It took a few seconds. At first, it registered as pleasantly tangy with a bit of spice. Crowley wasn't worried about that - he had eaten and enjoyed very spicy foods on occasion, though not constantly as Snape seemed to believe. Then it hit the back of his throat and Crowley was left gasping.

"Holy fuck," he managed, then spying some beer, raced down the table, snapped the end off one of the bottles and downed it entirely.

[deatheater-cook.livejournal.com]

Actually cook, why yes I can.

Snape watched the little display with the beer with a quirk of lip that was almost a smile. It was satisfying to know that his effort had not gone to waste.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

The fire having subsided somewhat after two hastily drunk beers, Crowley looked incredulously at Snape and caught his little smirk. That did it. Crowley lost it. He fell to his knees, laughing so hard that he couldn't support his weight. After a few minutes when he was able to control himself, he stood and approached the chef again.

"Nice one, Snape. Well played." He held out a hand to the man, grinning. "I'd call us even now. Truce?"