ravi 🔪 capitol fin

tick 12a / calla RP Tutor 2,232 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Nov 13, 2024 22:49:53 GMT -5 just a litle creacher	ravi 🔪 capitol fin Oct 17, 2024 14:23:10 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by tick 12a / calla on Oct 17, 2024 14:23:10 GMT -5
	Last Edit: Nov 9, 2024 20:54:59 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla ⇀ tracker ↼ ⇀ 2024 upat ↼

tick 12a / calla
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just a litle creacher

ravi 🔪 capitol fin Oct 19, 2024 0:02:05 GMT -5

Post by tick 12a / calla on Oct 19, 2024 0:02:05 GMT -5

happy birthday.

the waitstaff's found their way into the sparklers. the health inspector's on her second serving of foie gras. you're staring at the oysters.

you used to say that there was really only one right way to slice a lemon. in half first, and then in half again. lengthwise. no more than four pieces.

what happens if you cut it into more than four.

that's just the way it is.

you said it was a superstition. but in reality, it's just because that if you cut half a lemon into more than four wedges, then each piece will be too small to actually do anything with. you'd be wasting the entire thing.

don't brutalize the damn fruit. what, are you fucking stupid?

your cutting board always looks like a crime scene anyways. the juice runs lengthwise, the ones that come from that little orchard in Three are always a little plumper than the rest, but i don't know how you know this. sometimes you look very old to me.

but she likes the bird. of course she does. it's a good recipe. Avena's is a really good place. and you're a good cook, besides the whole lemon thing.

we don't have to lock her in the freezer after all.

Kelli decides to climb up onto the hostess stand. she's probably going to take her top off soon.

don't let them set anything on fire, you say, i know it's a celebration. but, shit.

but the sparklers. but the green slip. it's a party. she didn't even find the rat trap.

that's reminded you.

don't let them set anything on fire.

and then

and make sure you clean out the trap.

yes chef.

happy birthday.

Last Edit: Nov 9, 2024 20:54:03 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla

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tick 12a / calla
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just a litle creacher

ravi 🔪 capitol fin Oct 28, 2024 19:40:48 GMT -5

Post by tick 12a / calla on Oct 28, 2024 19:40:48 GMT -5

the weak are all culled by second year.

in the late spring, approaching the end of the curriculum, there's a month long excursion out to Ten. the program's top 10% take the train to the district square, and then take a military vehicle to the outskirts.

for eight CIP students and one instructor, they bring five peacekeepers.

the vehicle snakes along the fence, metal touching the sky, eight feet of chainlink humming ominously.

there's a farm waiting for them at the end of the road with a rancher standing in the wheel ruts. he has three teeth and no hair, his legs are wrapped in cowhide - not in the nouveau Capitol way, but in a way that makes some of the students titter. very last season. his hands are the texture of leather.

they start with chickens.

if you want the meat, you need to get it yourself. learn where it came from. next time you're at the butcher, or the supermarket, glance at the counter for a little longer, with a little more respect. this is to make you appreciate it. this is to make Taia, who had already named her chicken the moment it was put in her arms, look down into the shine of its beady little pupils as the rancher demonstrated how to snap its neck.

but for everyone else, the chicken is fine.

it's chicken.

they peck at the students' fists before they die. they squawk something terrible as they're being handled. they're not a particularly endearing animal. that night, everyone goes back to the barn they're bunking in, still in relatively high spirits. they laugh over the real hay, the real life barn, the actual antique tractor stored in the corner.

the second week, they get calves.

one of the boys starts crying immediately.

his calf has its head in his lap. it's looking up at him. it's fallen a little bit in love with him already, in the way that only animals can.

if you want the meat, you need to learn how to get it yourself. appreciate it.

his hands shake too much. he does the cut wrong, and has to sit there watching the eyes loll. he hiccups over the bleating. they lift the carcass from him. they throw it in the back of a truck, lead another doe-eyed delicacy over to his spot. it puts its head in his lap. it looks up at him. he's crying still. the chaperone is standing over his shoulder. we're not teaching you to be wasteful.

there’s a grill out back. your client wants the steak. rare. it needs to be tender. he only has three teeth.

the barn is considerably quieter that night.

the boy doesn't find the hay as amusing anymore. the tractor isn't quite so novel.

he turns on his cot.

"i thought this was going to be fun." he says. "cooking is supposed to be fun."

a scoff.

"then you're not doing it right."

Last Edit: Nov 9, 2024 20:04:12 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla

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just a litle creacher

ravi 🔪 capitol fin Oct 31, 2024 0:26:55 GMT -5

Post by tick 12a / calla on Oct 31, 2024 0:26:55 GMT -5

their table sits nine.

Mom sits at one end, Dad at the other. Kanan, Ravi, and Avena on the left. Rupin, Nila, Dinesh, and Deccan on the right.

Mom is talking about how the neighbours just got a new nanny. an avox. she thinks it's a bit tasteless. a little tone deaf. she's stirring a delicate cup of oolong.

the conversation very swiftly moves to Nesh's schooling. he's seventeen now. he has to start thinking about what he wants to do. tentatively, halfway dessert, he brings up the opening ceremony looks from this year. Two's outfits were made entirely from broken glass. he would've added a little dye underneath, to make it look like they were bleeding from the shards without actually damaging the tributes.

Dad makes a noise that they all ignore.

and what about Deccan. he's in school still too. hates math. hates art. hates gym. hates everything because he's freshly a teenager and they're all like that. Nila coos at him. she says it'll get better. it did for her.

Kanan calls to correct her from the kitchen. he's finishing up the dishes, up to his elbows in suds while Ravi stands dutifully by with a tea towel.

he didn't complain about clean up duties this year.

he didn't make it to the anniversary dinner last year. had a wicked dacquoise final to prep for. he's here now though. Mom is always saying how important family is. how good it is to stay together. how nice it is when he returns her calls.

no one actually says anything about it. there's no pointed glances. no remarks. there's only Rupin's deadpan surprise when he shows up, and then Nila's yell of delight when she sees him walk in.

but then it comes out that Kanan's got a girlfriend, and everyone wants to hear about that instead. Ravi gets to sit and stare at the pockmarks in the table while Mom tries to get more information about Sherri with an i, whose work has something to do with taxes.

it's not bad. really not as bad as he thought it would be. the lulls in conversation don't feel as jarring as he expected they would. he makes the coffee when everyone's done eating. he pours the brandy into Dad's mug, and then into his. he stares at the table some more.

Last Edit: Nov 9, 2024 20:52:05 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla

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tick 12a / calla
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just a litle creacher

ravi 🔪 capitol fin Nov 6, 2024 20:05:16 GMT -5

Post by tick 12a / calla on Nov 6, 2024 20:05:16 GMT -5

being a chef is the worst job one could possibly have. a thankless job. you're working with the worst people you’ve ever met and they all have their own set of fuck-you stab-you knives. it's terrible hours. holidays. weekends. evenings. it’s a lonely job. say goodbye to your social life. kill it. this is your life now. now you're taking care of people that you’ll never meet. cooking is about convincing someone you love them. then it's about actually loving them. it’s about loving them enough to substitute the potato in potato paneer. because that's what they want. that's what they asked for. this job. it's an illness. you do it, because you love them. you love them and you let them into your home, where they come and sit down at your table and eat your mother’s appam. they ask for the recipe. they want to speak to the chef. and family secret, you have to say. because it is. except you still love them, so you decide to give them some advice. you tell them that any appam recipe will do. they're all the same, there's nothing really special about this one. it just never works for me, they say, never holds its shape. you tell them that it took you ten years to get the shape right. you say it with a little laugh. they look discouraged. well, that's why you're here isn't it? to eat the perfect appam. to pay a fortune for a bit of rice flour and coconut milk. get your picture taken with it. here's the secret. maybe you can skip the ten years. you need to grind the rice with ice so it doesn't get too hot. if your water's too hard, you'll kill the natural yeast. and the only source of warmth for your fermentation should be the oven light, it should only sit for twelve hours. not ten, not thirteen. add sugar to the individual portions, not to the whole batch. if your chatti is too hot, you'll burn the batter. if it's not hot enough, the form will sag. and you should only cook appam over a flame. except you can't temperature control a flame. you'll have to feel it to see how hot it is. only rotate the chatti once so the batter spreads thin. cover it. don't lift the lid to check, because then you'll let the steam out and it won't cook properly. never lift it with a spatula. because then it won't hold its shape. of course it won't hold its shape. you need practice. hundred dollar appam. you need to do it over and over again. until you can do it in your sleep. until there's no feeling left in your fingers because you've put your hand in the flame so many times. you think i could do make it like this after a week? after a month? you think i could do that without going fucking insane?

Last Edit: Nov 9, 2024 20:04:30 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla

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tick 12a / calla
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ravi 🔪 capitol fin Nov 8, 2024 2:05:09 GMT -5

Post by tick 12a / calla on Nov 8, 2024 2:05:09 GMT -5

there's supposed to be an article about the new restaurant.

Ravi threw his phone under the bed three days ago and hasn't pulled it out since.

the journalist has been very insistent. it'll be a tasteful piece. he gave his word, no smearing. they need a page turner, the capitol wants to hear about an up and coming establishment, this little jewel on sappirus street. it's the head chef's second venture. the first one he's opening on his own. please. c'mon. just a few questions.

he's made that mistake before.

two years ago. fresh out of school and in his first actual big boy job. he went from commis to sous in eight months because the executive at Greenwave decided to jump ship and start up his own elite fish joint down the road. he ended up taking half the staff with him, three sets of glassware, and most of the menu. and some of the petty cash.

and maybe it wasn't a great idea to take the fresh blood and make him the sous in a completely brand new business. but maybe it was a great idea.

Greenwave tanked almost immediately. the critics called it a murder. the new place poaches the saucier from Buck + Blake. they go down too. the market monopoly starts to shift. it's suddenly impossible to get lemons from a reliable supplier. it's a cutthroat business.

and it's not really an interview. it's more of a personal piece. it's a profile. the magazine's doing one for every member of Aquatera's kitchen staff. even the new commis. they talk to the journalist one by one. it's supposed to be really good press for the place.

Ravi's one of six siblings. he graduated from CIP eight months ago. yes, he's very young for a sous. yes, he has the skills to back it up. he's not very personable, but that doesn't really matter in print. he knows what he's talking about. he's still in that phase where a cook is newly christened and wet-eyed, fresh out of school and only really concerned with their technical skills.

okay. great. good stuff. what's the atmosphere in the kitchen like.

it's nice. fast-paced. challenging.

and the people.

the same.

there's a joke that if you let a group of chefs loose in a kitchen, they'll all end up sleeping with each other before the dessert's gone out. do you think there's any truth to that. it can all get pretty messy pretty fast, can't it.

it's like how you're not supposed to say macbeth in a theatre.

he comes across as a brash young ingénue. a little biting. and not very nice. there's a chip on his shoulder and he's only just started. his section of the article is one of the shortest. most of the page space is taken up by the saucier, who was more than happy to use the full fifteen to talk shit about his previous employer.

that copy of Food List is under the bed too. somewhere with the phone. and the business card for his brother's therapist. an empty take-out box. Nila's last birthday present that never made it into the mail.

the clock's going off. there's a mountain of prep waiting. that journalist is going to call again.

Last Edit: Nov 9, 2024 21:06:37 GMT -5 by tick 12a / calla

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tick 12a / calla RP Tutor 2,232 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Nov 13, 2024 22:49:53 GMT -5 just a litle creacher	ravi 🔪 capitol fin Nov 9, 2024 21:06:23 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by tick 12a / calla on Nov 9, 2024 21:06:23 GMT -5 ravi nadar 26 capitol yes chef
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tick 12a / calla RP Tutor 2,232 POSTS Pronouns: she/her last seen Nov 13, 2024 22:49:53 GMT -5 just a litle creacher	ravi 🔪 capitol fin Nov 9, 2024 21:08:12 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by tick 12a / calla on Nov 9, 2024 21:08:12 GMT -5 gamemaker kelsier
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gamemaker kelsier Graphics 6,077 POSTS Pronouns: they/them Member is Online “And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck	ravi 🔪 capitol fin Nov 9, 2024 21:38:58 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by gamemaker kelsier on Nov 9, 2024 21:38:58 GMT -5 let him cook ⋆˙ ⋆ ˗ˋˏ ✩ ˎˊ˗ ⋆ ˙⋆ (mine)
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