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Jul. 30th, 2006 05:15 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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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.
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.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-07 07:43 pm (UTC)He looked at Doctor’s departing back for a moment, then again looked at War. “I’m as well as I can be expected to be, given that in the last half a year I’ve Fallen, got kicked out of the Manor, faced Lucifer, established some kind of a position in Hell, reunited with Raphael twice, been left by Raphael twice, got very close to death and been forced to reconsider my moralities. Probably even better. I feel betrayed, angry, lonely, vengeful, and confused, and I’m trying my best to behave nicely no matter what. The next time Lucifer gets me into his hands he might not let me go.”
His red eyes flashed. “How did you expected me to be, then?”
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Date: 2006-08-07 08:14 pm (UTC)She sighed. "I haven't been through anything like all of that, so I'm not going to say to you I understand - it wouldn't mean anything, and you wouldn't believe me. I respect you too much for that. I do, however, hope that I can help, or at least not hinder. I may be War, and able to start conflicts just by blinking, but it doesn't mean I'm out to kill everyone I meet." Her mouth twisted wryly. "Especially not after this afternoon."
Her mind suddenly made a connection. "Oh - Mictain - you might want to be prepared for Uriel to be... not quite as you remember. Just a heads-up."
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Date: 2006-08-07 08:23 pm (UTC)Then, he frowned. “Not as I remember? What do you mean? Is he no more a stuck-up bastard with serious mental issues who claims to be genderless yet keeps snogging with Pestilence in shadowy corners when he thinks nobody else is around?”
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Date: 2006-08-07 08:52 pm (UTC)She looked at him again. "I don't think I could ever understand, no. But I do believe that you didn't deserve to be treated like that."
She chuckled at his frown. "Oh, no, I think you'll find Uriel rather different. I can't comment on the mental issues, but as for gend - snogging with Pestilence? What?" she half shrieked, in shock and surprise, as the latter part of what the demon had said sunk in.
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Date: 2006-08-07 09:09 pm (UTC)"I was walking along a corridor one night, before I got kicked out," he said, deciding a simple explanation might be the best way to deal with the situation. "I almost stumbled over them. They were standing in the shadows, making out like there was no tomorrow, and I really don't think Uriel wasn't making an effort. They both seemed to quite enjoy it, too."
He shrugged. "From their behaviour when I startled them I figured they were quite serious about it, too. Pestilence was ready to let me bash his face in just to protect Uriel's honour. Note this, I wasn't even threatening to hurt Uriel, I just called him with some not-so-endearing names, and he was about to start a fight. Pestilence. Start a fight. With me. Either he really was serious about his love, or he was in desperate need of a new corporation."
He shrugged, a bit uneasy as he recalled the events so long ago. "Your dear colleague even claimed to be willing to die for his angel, go figure. I imagined they'd have come out by now."
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Date: 2006-08-07 09:15 pm (UTC)She blinked in confusion. "Pestilence doesn't jsut go round picking fights - I should know - but he was ready to... where is he? What did Uriel do to him??" War couldn't get her mind round all of this. But she'd known Pestilence for millennia, and she was inclined to be on his side in this one.
She shook her head. "They haven't come out - like I say, Pestilence seems to have left. But one thing has certainly come out of it... the cunning bitch!"
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Date: 2006-08-07 09:21 pm (UTC)He frowned, then. "Who's a bitch?" he asked, not making the connection between the term typically used to refer to female beings and the -- as far as he knew -- male Uriel. "And what does that have to do with this, anyway?"
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Date: 2006-08-07 09:38 pm (UTC)She flexed her fingers anxiously. "You might as well know. Uriel's pregnant. So...either it's his, and she cast him off, once she'd used him to get a child... or she cheated on him."
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Date: 2006-08-07 09:49 pm (UTC)He took a moment to try to sort out his thoughts. In the six millennia he'd known Uriel the archangel had never, to his knowledge, made an effort. He'd been shocked enough to learn that he would know as far as kissing and presumably making an effort. But this? Being actually pregnant? This was... un-Urielish.
"Somehow, I can't believe either of her," he still said, "and I do think I knew her better than anybody else. But yet... it must be one or the other, mustn't it? With the way Pestilence reacted, I don't think he would have left her voluntarily. And if he was still with her and had got her pregnant, he would visibly support her -- if she let her. He hardly would just abandon her after threatening to attack me just because I called the angel names."
He sighed, again running a hand through his hair. "So, either Uriel's quite a bit different from what I figured... or Pestilence is just about suicidal. Somehow, I think the former is the more probable option." He narrowed his eyes. "I'll find out the truth yet. I can't imagine why she would want a child, though... So she must have cheated on him, then. Or maybe she got pregnant by accident and deserted him because of it. But it doesn't make any sense, either..."
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Date: 2006-08-07 10:02 pm (UTC)"I'm not sure what my opinion of Uriel is, but from what I'm seen and heard, I'm not overly inclined to make it a positive one. If she is so mentally ill, could wanting a child be linked to that, somehow? I could understand her leaving him if she got pregnant and he rejected her but then regretted it... but I can't see that, quite, either."
Twisting her hair round her fingers, she continued, "I don't understand what could have happened. The bare facts, though, are that Uriel and Pestilence were clearly together, and PEstilence cared about Uriel deeply. Now, Uriel is female and noticeably pregnant, and Pestilence has disappeared. Clearly, something odd has happened - and neither of us really know what."
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Date: 2006-08-07 10:08 pm (UTC)He grumbled, "I am going to make sense of this -- if not otherwise then to prove that Uriel is completely crazy. And besides, if the kid indeed is Pestilence's..." A sudden thought crossed his mind, and he smirked. "Can you imagine what a fuss it'd cause Upstairs? It'd be pure chaos. The pure and untouched perfect archangel is pregnant, unmarried, and the father's a horseman. I can just imagine the look on Metatron's face when he finds out..."
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Date: 2006-08-07 10:14 pm (UTC)Her amusement subsided, though, as she said, "I'd like to know too. Pestilence has been around as long as I have, more or less, and he's a Horseperson, like me. And whether he is the one at fault - which I doubt - or whether Uriel has completely lost it - which I consider more than likely - then I'd like to know. Besides, if the child is his, then it's practically family! I've got a vested interest... even if it has got a rather interesting family tree."
She clicked her nails again. "Seems it would make sense for us to work together on this one - after all, we both want to find out... What do you think?"
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Date: 2006-08-07 10:23 pm (UTC)His smirk got even broader at War's mention of a family tree. "Just think of the things the poor kid would learn!" he laughed. "I could always claim to be its uncle. Even if it's only to see the look on the angels' face. They need to be reminded of me before they succeed in their goal of forgetting about me entirely, and what would be better for that than such a shock?"
He didn't have to consider her suggestion for long. "Sure. Between the two of us, we should actually find out something."
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Date: 2006-08-07 10:29 pm (UTC)"And you're right. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of it..." She held out her hand. "Shake on it?" she said with a laugh, and a raised eyebrow.
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Date: 2006-08-07 10:32 pm (UTC)"Sure," he said, grasping on her hand and shaking it. "We'll find out the truth yet."
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Date: 2006-08-07 10:41 pm (UTC)Then, raising her eyes to his and gripping his hand firmly, "Yes," she replied, before letting go of his hand.
"Now, feel like joining me in sleuthing down some food? I'm sure Duckie will still be able to find us when he gets back."
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Date: 2006-08-08 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-08 12:48 pm (UTC)"You, I assume, call him E.T. because he is an extra-terrestrial, an alien?" She'd picked up on that bit of human culture, at least. "Well, when he arrived in the lobby, there was a bit of a ... situation. He was waving something around which he called a 'screwdriver', but it looked more like a weapon to me, so I told him to put it down so he couldn't use it. He refused, and said, "it is no more a weapon than I am a duck." She laughed wryly. "I thought that if he was an alien, maybe his true form was a duck-shape, and so it was a weapon, and the connection just stuck in my mind. He doesn't seem bothered, though - not that that would stop me."
She quirked her eyebrow. "Satisfied? Can we go get food now?"
no subject
Date: 2006-08-08 12:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-08 01:06 pm (UTC)He grimaced at the thought. When it came to cleaning, he was a teenager at heart.
"Anyway," he said quickly, "four settings. The first one gives whoever you're shooting at a numb limb, the second makes them extremely dizzy, the third knocks them out for five to ten minutes and the fourth for half an hour to an hour. You just aim and shoot." He smiled. "It's really simple. Can't remember where I got it..." He frowned, trying to find the gun in his memories. "Ah well. If it was too dangerous, the TARDIS would have said.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," the Doctor said, "I think I'm going to see about finding some jelly babies. See you, Mickey, Ruby..."
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Date: 2006-08-30 09:53 pm (UTC)She put out a hand and took the gun from him. It looked both similar and dissimilar to other weapons she'd seen, but she could sense something different about it as she held it, something less destructive about it, which made sense.
"Thank you, Duckie!" she called after him, as he hurried off in search of jelly babies, or whatever it was he'd said he wanted. She held it out to Mictain. "Care to take a look?"
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Date: 2006-08-30 10:02 pm (UTC)"It's pretty," he commented, grinning. "Definitely not from this age -- or possibly even this planet, mind you. It does make me wonder, though, what other, more destructive weapons could be acquired with that spaceship of his. If he were to allow it, that is, which I very much doubt."
He gave the laser gun back to War. "This is one bloody cool toy," he said. "Let's hope nobody mistakes it for something actually dangerous and confesticate it."
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Date: 2006-08-30 10:22 pm (UTC)She thought about what he'd said, about other times and other planets. "I know this is from the future, and quite possibly another planet. It just makes it more interesting in itself, really. Tempting as it is to go travelling to add to my collection, I really don't think Duckie would let me. Plus, I'm not sure Adam would be too keen on it, and I'd really rather stay in his good books right now."
She took it back from him, and ran her fingers over it. "I'd like to test it out sometime, but I'm not sure I'd get any volunteers. I guess rabbit hunting or something might be ok, though, don't you think?"
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Date: 2006-08-31 11:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 01:41 pm (UTC)She put a hand up to her aching neck and rubbed it. It felt hot, and like it was starting to swell a bit. She hoped it wasn't going to be too bad, or the next few days realy weren't going to be much fun. "Is this starting to bruise, or am I going to get away with it?"
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