Really cookin'
Nov. 18th, 2003 10:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
shayheyred.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionAt something like 881 words, including recipe, please allow me to serve you la specialite de la maison --
REAL MEN
"Don't be ridiculous, Ray."
Wrong thing to say, Fraser realized, just a second too late. Kowalski's lips tightened into a thin line, one that mirrored the line of his folded arms. "Oh, so I'm ridiculous. Nice, Fraser, real nice."
"Now Ray, that's not what I meant."
"No? Well it's what you said."
Benton squeezed the bridge of his nose, leaving floury fingerprints. "I apologize. You're not being ridiculous. Merely childish."
Ray's hands sprang apart to gesture wildly in the air. Strangely, Fraser noted, that made the more recent Detective Vecchio seem much more like the original. "So now I'm childish?"
"Yes, Ray, you are, if you insist on making gross generalizations. Cheese grater, please."
"Here. It's not a gross generalization, Fraser, it's a saying. It's the truth. Everybody knows it's true."
"Cream, please. Well, I don't know that, Ray."
"Okay, everybody but you."
"Hardly. Break those eggs into the bowl, will you? I find your statement not only to be rash, and unsubstantiated by fact, but also politically incorrect and possibly slanderous."
"You work my nerves sometimes, Fraser, you really do." Ray tapped the egg against the rim of the bowl, but kept gesturing, nonetheless. Fraser held his breath, expecting a disaster that did not, however, materialize. The eggs went into the bowl, sans shells. Benton breathed a sigh of relief.
Ray caught the sigh. "What? You think I can't break an egg? I can cook. Sort of."
"I never doubted you."
Ray snickered. "You see? It's that Canadian thing again. You want me to beat these eggs?"
"Yes, please, and add the cayenne pepper."
"The--?"
"Red stuff. No, no, just a dash." He frowned, catching up with Ray's statement. "What on earth do you mean, it's a 'Canadian thing?'"
"Okay," Ray said, sniffing the cayenne and wrinkling his nose, "No offense. I just mean that I know what I'm talking about. Up there in the Great White North Pole you know other things, have different sayings, like, like 'a blubber a day keeps the Eskimo away.'"
"There's no such--" Too late Fraser caught Kowalski's grin and knew he'd been had. "Ray," he chided.
Ray snickered. "Personally, I think it's some sort of subversive undercover plot, this recipe. Maybe you're a Canadian terrorist."
Fraser shook his head. "Canadians don't need terrorists, Ray. We plan to rule the world through curling." He reached for the plate of cooked bacon.
"Damn, I suspected that. Ah, ah, you see? Canadian bacon! I was right. They didn't make me a detective for my pretty smile."
"Evidently not." Benton tried unsuccessfully not to smile back. "It is a lovely smile, though."
"Don't try to distract me, Fraser. I know what you're up to."
"Do you, indeed. May I have the pie shell, please, Ray?"
"Sure. I just don't know what's wrong with regular food, though."
Fraser opened the oven door. "Man does not live by pizza alone."
"Says you, Mountie." Ray leaned his long body against the wall, admiring Fraser's rear as he bent to put the pie shell in the oven. "There's always Chinese. Or burritos."
"I don't know why you're making such a fuss. This recipe has everything you like, with the possible exception of pineapple. Which you are free to add, by the way, but only on your serving." Benton adjusted the temperature on the dial. "And now we wait. I promise you you'll like it."
Ray looked unconvinced. "Fraser. For the last time, real men do not eat this stuff."
"Ray, my friend," Fraser said, putting his hands on his partner's bony shoulders. "We will eat this, and we are real men, are we not?"
Ray shrugged in capitulation. "Okay, okay. I'll give it a try."
"I'm very proud of you."
"So," Ray said, looking at Benton slyly. "How much time do we have before it's cooked?"
"About 45 minutes." Benton looked up to find Ray's silvery eyes glittering at him. "Why, did you have something you wanted to do in the meantime?"
"I just might." Ray pulled the dishtowel out of Ben's waistband and tossed it aside cavalierly. Ben shivered with a frisson of desire. "Come on, let's have some hot monkey sex."
"Ah," Ben agreed. He leaned in to nibble on a Ray hors d'oeuvres, then stopped, darting a glance at the oven. "Oh dear."
"What?" Ray murmured, as he nibbled Ben's lower lip.
"About that saying, Ray? You may be right after all."
>>>><<<<
SHAY'S "REAL MEN" QUICHE
1 ½ cups grated Swiss cheese (6 oz)
6 slices cooked Canadian bacon, sliced thinly into ribbons
Unbaked 9" pie shell
3 eggs
1 cup heavy cream
½ cup milk
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp pepper
Dash of cayenne
½ tsp dry mustard
Sprinkle cheese and bacon in pie shell. Beat remaining ingredients together and pour into pie shell. Bake in moderate oven (375) 45 minutes, or until firm and browned. Cut in wedges and serve warm, accompanied by a manly beverage.
REAL MEN
"Don't be ridiculous, Ray."
Wrong thing to say, Fraser realized, just a second too late. Kowalski's lips tightened into a thin line, one that mirrored the line of his folded arms. "Oh, so I'm ridiculous. Nice, Fraser, real nice."
"Now Ray, that's not what I meant."
"No? Well it's what you said."
Benton squeezed the bridge of his nose, leaving floury fingerprints. "I apologize. You're not being ridiculous. Merely childish."
Ray's hands sprang apart to gesture wildly in the air. Strangely, Fraser noted, that made the more recent Detective Vecchio seem much more like the original. "So now I'm childish?"
"Yes, Ray, you are, if you insist on making gross generalizations. Cheese grater, please."
"Here. It's not a gross generalization, Fraser, it's a saying. It's the truth. Everybody knows it's true."
"Cream, please. Well, I don't know that, Ray."
"Okay, everybody but you."
"Hardly. Break those eggs into the bowl, will you? I find your statement not only to be rash, and unsubstantiated by fact, but also politically incorrect and possibly slanderous."
"You work my nerves sometimes, Fraser, you really do." Ray tapped the egg against the rim of the bowl, but kept gesturing, nonetheless. Fraser held his breath, expecting a disaster that did not, however, materialize. The eggs went into the bowl, sans shells. Benton breathed a sigh of relief.
Ray caught the sigh. "What? You think I can't break an egg? I can cook. Sort of."
"I never doubted you."
Ray snickered. "You see? It's that Canadian thing again. You want me to beat these eggs?"
"Yes, please, and add the cayenne pepper."
"The--?"
"Red stuff. No, no, just a dash." He frowned, catching up with Ray's statement. "What on earth do you mean, it's a 'Canadian thing?'"
"Okay," Ray said, sniffing the cayenne and wrinkling his nose, "No offense. I just mean that I know what I'm talking about. Up there in the Great White North Pole you know other things, have different sayings, like, like 'a blubber a day keeps the Eskimo away.'"
"There's no such--" Too late Fraser caught Kowalski's grin and knew he'd been had. "Ray," he chided.
Ray snickered. "Personally, I think it's some sort of subversive undercover plot, this recipe. Maybe you're a Canadian terrorist."
Fraser shook his head. "Canadians don't need terrorists, Ray. We plan to rule the world through curling." He reached for the plate of cooked bacon.
"Damn, I suspected that. Ah, ah, you see? Canadian bacon! I was right. They didn't make me a detective for my pretty smile."
"Evidently not." Benton tried unsuccessfully not to smile back. "It is a lovely smile, though."
"Don't try to distract me, Fraser. I know what you're up to."
"Do you, indeed. May I have the pie shell, please, Ray?"
"Sure. I just don't know what's wrong with regular food, though."
Fraser opened the oven door. "Man does not live by pizza alone."
"Says you, Mountie." Ray leaned his long body against the wall, admiring Fraser's rear as he bent to put the pie shell in the oven. "There's always Chinese. Or burritos."
"I don't know why you're making such a fuss. This recipe has everything you like, with the possible exception of pineapple. Which you are free to add, by the way, but only on your serving." Benton adjusted the temperature on the dial. "And now we wait. I promise you you'll like it."
Ray looked unconvinced. "Fraser. For the last time, real men do not eat this stuff."
"Ray, my friend," Fraser said, putting his hands on his partner's bony shoulders. "We will eat this, and we are real men, are we not?"
Ray shrugged in capitulation. "Okay, okay. I'll give it a try."
"I'm very proud of you."
"So," Ray said, looking at Benton slyly. "How much time do we have before it's cooked?"
"About 45 minutes." Benton looked up to find Ray's silvery eyes glittering at him. "Why, did you have something you wanted to do in the meantime?"
"I just might." Ray pulled the dishtowel out of Ben's waistband and tossed it aside cavalierly. Ben shivered with a frisson of desire. "Come on, let's have some hot monkey sex."
"Ah," Ben agreed. He leaned in to nibble on a Ray hors d'oeuvres, then stopped, darting a glance at the oven. "Oh dear."
"What?" Ray murmured, as he nibbled Ben's lower lip.
"About that saying, Ray? You may be right after all."
>>>><<<<
SHAY'S "REAL MEN" QUICHE
1 ½ cups grated Swiss cheese (6 oz)
6 slices cooked Canadian bacon, sliced thinly into ribbons
Unbaked 9" pie shell
3 eggs
1 cup heavy cream
½ cup milk
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp pepper
Dash of cayenne
½ tsp dry mustard
Sprinkle cheese and bacon in pie shell. Beat remaining ingredients together and pour into pie shell. Bake in moderate oven (375) 45 minutes, or until firm and browned. Cut in wedges and serve warm, accompanied by a manly beverage.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:00 am (UTC)"What?" Ray murmured, as he nibbled Ben's lower lip.
"About that saying, Ray? You may be right after all."
Ahahaha! Quiche and kitchen snark. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 01:38 pm (UTC)"Canadians don't need terrorists, Ray. We plan to rule the world through curling."
Hee!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 08:17 pm (UTC)i won't use it in my posts or anything; i'll just keep it in my user pics and smile.
:::bats eyes engagingly:::
pleeeaaaaasssseeee??
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 08:24 pm (UTC)great story, too! the dialogue was perfect! so very ray, so very fraser.
happyhappy
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 08:46 pm (UTC)Thanks for the cheer~
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 10:02 pm (UTC)Some Fraser, some Ray, some snark -- what a combination. :-)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 10:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 10:29 pm (UTC)Very fun, Shay!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 01:38 am (UTC)"Canadians don't need terrorists, Ray. We plan to rule the world through curling."
Perfect!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 03:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 03:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 03:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 03:44 am (UTC)