[identity profile] deatheater-cook.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] neutral_omens
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.

Date: 2006-08-12 07:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
Mentally, Bast rolled her eyes. What was it with modern blokes and their aversion to looking at females in public? Okay, maybe not an aversion, but why the heck did they have to be so embarassed about it? Grrr...with cats it was so much simpler...

She shrugged, letting the movement run down her spine like it automatically did as a cat. //No, not long. Only a few days, maybe a week. What about you?//

Date: 2006-08-14 07:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
"Oh, I been around a while. ...Christ, must be nigh on a year now," John said, blinking in surprise and looking at Crowley for confirmation. He couldn't remember the exact date of his arrival, but it had been about this time of year. Even taking into account the random stretches of time he was still missing, it didn't seem as though it could be that long. When had time started slipping away so rapidly without his noticing? "Not too bad a place to hang your hat a while, if you can handle the general weirdness."

Date: 2006-08-15 08:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
Bast's ears flicked back, and she gave a small smile. //General weirdness? Like what? Being talked to by a giant cat? Being threatened by weird men with buzzy blue things they insist are screwdrivers?//

Date: 2006-08-16 06:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
"Actually, I was thinking of last year's Halloween party, or the trigger-happy Archangel of Healing, or maybe the attack of the cellophane monster," John said mildly. Those weren't even at the top of the list, but some other incidents weren't common knowledge and it was best it stayed that way. "But yeah, those too, now you mention it."

Date: 2006-08-16 08:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
Her eyes widened, and she was torn between laughing and scoffing.

//Attack of the cellophane monster?// she repeated incredulously. //That just sounds alot like a very weird nightmare, rather than anything you'd see by day. What happened last Hallow'een?//

Date: 2006-08-16 08:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
"General weirdness," John replied with a wink. "Ever seen an archangel in a French maid outfit? You won't soon forget it. And the cellophane monster was a little out of the ordinary even for this place, but that's what happens when you go mixing assorted cellar junk with leftover Satanic artifacts in a house overflowing with incompatible forms of occult energy, I guess."

Date: 2006-08-17 10:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
Bast blinked.

//Please tell me the one in the maid's outfit was Uriel.//She said, snickering. //Mmm, yeah. I suppose stranger things have happened in Cairo. Try a Leprechaun showing up at his own wake, still dead from frostbite but still talking, and complaining that he didn't get enough people mourning him.//

Date: 2006-08-17 05:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
"Better. Gabriel," John said, grinning maliciously. "Well, shit, I'd be hacked too, if I was Irish and I had to go all the way to fucking Egypt to lodge a complaint. Hope somebody at least gave the poor sod a pint for his trouble."

Date: 2006-08-18 01:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
Bast grinned back. //That would've been something to see - I hope someone took a picture. And technically, it was only the states, but he still drank most of the booze.//

Date: 2006-08-20 05:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
"I dunno, I can ask around. Adam might've, whole thing was his idea," John said, gradually growing less discomfitted by the cat-goddess's strange appearance. "...Ah, well, that's all right then. There's a Cairo in the States?"

Date: 2006-08-21 10:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
//Yup. Cairo, Illinois. A little undertaker's I like to call home.// She struck a pose. //All-american goddess, that's me. It's a long story.//

Date: 2006-08-22 10:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
"Aren't they all," John said with a lopsided smirk. "One day you'll have to tell me how an American Egyptian goddess wound up in Lower Tadfield. Preferably after I've had several more beers."

Date: 2006-08-23 10:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
Bast shrugged. //Fair enough. It's one of those sorts of stories, too - I doubt I'd be able to tell it properly without having a fair few myself first.//She glanced back at the main table. //I wonder if they've got any drinking straws there?//

Date: 2006-08-25 10:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
"If not, I expect if you ask nicely, somebody'd conjure one for you," John said, glancing around for Crowley. Where'd he got off to anyway?

Date: 2006-08-26 11:20 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] first-catwoman.livejournal.com
//Conjure, hmm? That'd be something to watch. My cousin-nephew, Osiris, and great-daddy Ra used to be good at that sort of thing.// She grinned briefly. //Right. I'll go see if the kitchen staff have got any, then ask Uriel, maybe.//

Then suddenly, impulsively, she leant over and gave him a small lick on the cheek. Her ears went flat in embarassment. //See ya later, handsome,// She told him softly, then was gone.

Date: 2006-08-28 10:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dangeroushabits.livejournal.com
John startled a bit and involuntarily touched the spot where Bast had licked him, watching wide-eyed as she walked away. "Was...that a come-on?" he asked of nobody in particular, mildly disturbed, but also having some trouble tearing his eyes away from her retreating...back.

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