Food is Love
Nov. 18th, 2003 09:56 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
jenboo.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionI struggled with this and it still didn't turn out quite like what I was aiming for, but I always have trouble writing Frannie. So here it is...about 780 words of Italian husband hunting.
In the break room at the 27th Precinct Detective Division
“Frannie, what is that smell?”
“Smells great, doesn’t it? It’s ma’s recipe for pasta puttanesca.”
“What does that mean? Pasta with disgusting, unmentionable things?”
“No, ‘Bro’, if you must know, literally translated it means the harlot’s pasta. The story is that houses of ill repute each had their own recipe and they’d cook it to entice customers into their establishments.”
“Then the customers would give the waitresses a private meal?”
“Don’t be gross. It happens to have become a very romantic dish. Ma cooked this for Pop the night he asked her to marry him.”
“Yeah? From what I heard, that wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven.”
“Watch it! Whatever you heard about my Pop, Ma loved him and they got married because of this dish.”
“So why’d you bring it to lunch? You planning to marry the whole station? Yo, Fraser! Over here, buddy!”
“Oh, Benton! I didn’t know you’d be here! Are you hungry? I brought pasta for lunch and there’s way more than I can eat. I’m more than happy to share.”
“That sounds delightful Francesca. Ray?”
“Uh, Frase, I don’t think Frannie wants me there.”
“Nonsense, Ray. It looked as though there was plenty for the three of us. Francesca knows you and I always eat lunch together on Tuesdays. I’m sure she wouldn’t exclude you. That would be rude.”
“Okay. But you owe me later.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“So, Frayzh, what do you think?”
“This is quite interesting, Francesca. Did you make it yourself?”
“I did. It’s ma’s recipe, but I made a few modifications. Do you like it?”
“It’s got a distinctive taste I’m not sure I’m identifying correctly.”
“I knew you’d recognize it! It’s pemmican.”
“Frannie, you are certifiable.”
“Well, Francesca, it certainly made for a fascinating and filling meal. Thank you very kindly.”
“Do you have to go now? I made dessert, too. It’s still in the freezer.”
“I’m afraid I do have to get back to the consulate. But thank you for the meal.”
(whispered) “Fraser, you have to talk to her. That pasta was vomitous. And she made it special for you. You ate it and now she’s gonna expect you to propose any day.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Yeah.”
“Excuse me for a moment. Francesca, might I have a word with you in private?”
Frannie and Fraser go into the supply closet. Fraser turns on the light. Frannie turns it out. Fraser turns it on; Frannie turns it out again. Fraser relents and starts speaking in the dark.
“Francesca, I’m afraid there may be some misunderstanding between us that I feel needs to be cleared up. Ray seems to think that your offer of lunch was some sort of overture. While I’m sure you wouldn’t be so bold as to do something of that nature, I thought perhaps—“
“Fraser?”
“Yes, Francesca?”
“Do you ever think about settling down?”
“Well, yes, I do, though probably not in the same sense as you or your family might. You see, Francesca—“
“Do you think you’d ever want to settle down here in Chicago?” Her voice was small and soft and getting more timid by the moment.
“Francesca, please. I actually have decided to settle in Chicago for the next several years.” Frannie turns the light on. “With Ray.”
“Oh. Oh.”
“I care a great deal for you, Francesca, but I’m in love with Ray.”
“Oh, God.” Frannie turns the light off.
“But I would love to have your mother’s recipe for the puttanesca. I’m certain it’s delicious when made traditionally.”
“You hated it, didn’t you?”
“Perhaps hate is a strong word, but I don’t think moose meat and chokecherries were ever meant to be made into pasta sauce.”
“Maybe you’re right. But do they go in borscht?”
“Perhaps not, but venison does go very well with cabbage rolls. If you get my meaning?”
“Yeah, I think I do, Frase.”
The supply closet door opens, momentarily blinding the occupants of the closet.
“Fraser, what the hell’s going on in here?”
“Francesca and I were simply exchanging recipes, Ray. I was just about to suggest she join us for dinner tomorrow night."
“Benton, you don’t have to—“
“Nonsense. You’ve cooked for us, so we should return the favor. Please join us?”
“All right.”
“Thank you kindly, Francesca.”
“Hey, Frase, isn’t Turnbull coming for dinner?”
“Indeed he is, Ray. Indeed he is."
And for the recipe. I haven't tried this recipe, but it's pretty close to the one I use.
In the break room at the 27th Precinct Detective Division
“Frannie, what is that smell?”
“Smells great, doesn’t it? It’s ma’s recipe for pasta puttanesca.”
“What does that mean? Pasta with disgusting, unmentionable things?”
“No, ‘Bro’, if you must know, literally translated it means the harlot’s pasta. The story is that houses of ill repute each had their own recipe and they’d cook it to entice customers into their establishments.”
“Then the customers would give the waitresses a private meal?”
“Don’t be gross. It happens to have become a very romantic dish. Ma cooked this for Pop the night he asked her to marry him.”
“Yeah? From what I heard, that wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven.”
“Watch it! Whatever you heard about my Pop, Ma loved him and they got married because of this dish.”
“So why’d you bring it to lunch? You planning to marry the whole station? Yo, Fraser! Over here, buddy!”
“Oh, Benton! I didn’t know you’d be here! Are you hungry? I brought pasta for lunch and there’s way more than I can eat. I’m more than happy to share.”
“That sounds delightful Francesca. Ray?”
“Uh, Frase, I don’t think Frannie wants me there.”
“Nonsense, Ray. It looked as though there was plenty for the three of us. Francesca knows you and I always eat lunch together on Tuesdays. I’m sure she wouldn’t exclude you. That would be rude.”
“Okay. But you owe me later.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“So, Frayzh, what do you think?”
“This is quite interesting, Francesca. Did you make it yourself?”
“I did. It’s ma’s recipe, but I made a few modifications. Do you like it?”
“It’s got a distinctive taste I’m not sure I’m identifying correctly.”
“I knew you’d recognize it! It’s pemmican.”
“Frannie, you are certifiable.”
“Well, Francesca, it certainly made for a fascinating and filling meal. Thank you very kindly.”
“Do you have to go now? I made dessert, too. It’s still in the freezer.”
“I’m afraid I do have to get back to the consulate. But thank you for the meal.”
(whispered) “Fraser, you have to talk to her. That pasta was vomitous. And she made it special for you. You ate it and now she’s gonna expect you to propose any day.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Yeah.”
“Excuse me for a moment. Francesca, might I have a word with you in private?”
Frannie and Fraser go into the supply closet. Fraser turns on the light. Frannie turns it out. Fraser turns it on; Frannie turns it out again. Fraser relents and starts speaking in the dark.
“Francesca, I’m afraid there may be some misunderstanding between us that I feel needs to be cleared up. Ray seems to think that your offer of lunch was some sort of overture. While I’m sure you wouldn’t be so bold as to do something of that nature, I thought perhaps—“
“Fraser?”
“Yes, Francesca?”
“Do you ever think about settling down?”
“Well, yes, I do, though probably not in the same sense as you or your family might. You see, Francesca—“
“Do you think you’d ever want to settle down here in Chicago?” Her voice was small and soft and getting more timid by the moment.
“Francesca, please. I actually have decided to settle in Chicago for the next several years.” Frannie turns the light on. “With Ray.”
“Oh. Oh.”
“I care a great deal for you, Francesca, but I’m in love with Ray.”
“Oh, God.” Frannie turns the light off.
“But I would love to have your mother’s recipe for the puttanesca. I’m certain it’s delicious when made traditionally.”
“You hated it, didn’t you?”
“Perhaps hate is a strong word, but I don’t think moose meat and chokecherries were ever meant to be made into pasta sauce.”
“Maybe you’re right. But do they go in borscht?”
“Perhaps not, but venison does go very well with cabbage rolls. If you get my meaning?”
“Yeah, I think I do, Frase.”
The supply closet door opens, momentarily blinding the occupants of the closet.
“Fraser, what the hell’s going on in here?”
“Francesca and I were simply exchanging recipes, Ray. I was just about to suggest she join us for dinner tomorrow night."
“Benton, you don’t have to—“
“Nonsense. You’ve cooked for us, so we should return the favor. Please join us?”
“All right.”
“Thank you kindly, Francesca.”
“Hey, Frase, isn’t Turnbull coming for dinner?”
“Indeed he is, Ray. Indeed he is."
And for the recipe. I haven't tried this recipe, but it's pretty close to the one I use.
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 12:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 02:51 pm (UTC)Frannie's cooking - glurg
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 02:52 pm (UTC)*laughs*
Actually, moose (or caribou) is very nice in pasta, but I'd definitely leave out the chokecherries (if I were to eat meat again, that is). *G*
I loved this--it reminded me of the whole Fraser/Frannie/lasagna scene in 'The Duel'. :-)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:14 pm (UTC)Great story. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:26 pm (UTC)Oh, I'm sure it is, but the moosemeat and chokecherry pemmican probably isn't. *g* All that sugar and lard can't be good with capers and anchovies and olives.
You know, I completely forgot about that scene in 'The Duel'! Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:27 pm (UTC)Thanks!!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-19 10:29 pm (UTC)“Maybe you’re right. But do they go in borscht?”
“Perhaps not, but venison does go very well with cabbage rolls. If you get my meaning?”
“Yeah, I think I do, Frase.”
So very clever. And Delia - the original Domestic Goddess!
no subject
Date: 2003-11-20 01:33 am (UTC)“Maybe you’re right. But do they go in borscht?”
“Perhaps not, but venison does go very well with cabbage rolls. If you get my meaning?”
That was so perfect. And yay for the implied Frannie/Turnbull, which always makes me happy. They're so wonderfully ditzy together. :-)