Welcome to Gaia! ::

Mathilda smiled as she entered the kitchen of the hotel. She had spotted a few Chosen on the way in, and had mentioned she was gonna try to cook up the rations she had found, and anyone was welcome to join. Moving around the room, she began to take inventory of the utensils and bowls, before taking stock of the oven and microwave.

After a bit of fiddling and asking for the fun box, both were in working order. She turned on the oven to preheat for cooking, and to warm the room. Shedding her coat and laying it on a chair, she pulled out a piece paper, laying it on the counter. Smoothing the edges, she smiled softly at the title.

'Apfelkucken'

It was the only baked good her father would ever make, so she made sure to keep the recipe with her all the time, even when she knew it by heart.

Leaving the paper on the counter, she turned to her bag and pulled out the jars and bags, sorting out the food.

Mercy was up for any kind of food she didn't have to make [ she wasn't a very good cook anyway ] as long as it was tasty. Since the cafeteria wasn't empty, she assumed there was someone in there, and therefore she also assumed that there would be the cooking of the foods. She didn't quite hear Mathilda's statement about making the food but figured it out as soon as she saw her pulling out jars and such. She wanted to offer her help but figured she would burn more things than actually cook. That and there was already someone already offering to help.

Well...Could she offer conversation maybe?

Mercy made her way towards the two women, waving while looking at the paper on the counter. "Apfe-what? What does that mean?" Even if she didn't know how to pronounce it, if that was what Mathilda was cooking, then she would eat it [ those cookies she made back on the campus was any sign, Mathilda was an amazing cook]

When the new person walked in, Tara waved, smiling in greeting. Mathilda sort of took care of the introductions with her greeting, and Tara was granted the other woman's name.

With Mathilda's urging to look around for possible supplies, Tara's fingers beat a little against the counter as she eyed the surrounding kitchen before pushing off from the surface to search. She opened up cupboards and drawers, unsure what to really look for... But after a bit of searching, she found a few unspoiled boxes of chicken and beef stock and bags of uncooked noodles. Those she hoisted up into her arms, bringing them back to the counter to set down before searching for more.

Opening up the pantry door--at least... it was some sort of storage room--she returned after a few moments, dragging a bag of potatoes and managed to get that up on the counter as well. "All I can find thus far... should I keep looking around..?" Not a lot of the food had remained unspoiled--she wasn't even sure if all the potatoes were safe to eat...--but if they could get something together that'd be awesome.

Mathilda hummed as she looked over the items Tara had managed to find.

"Let's see. The broth and potatoes will definitely work, may be a bit bland without salt or spices. I haven't seen any, but if you do, let me know! The pasta, and it looks like there is a lot, would be enough to feed a few people! We should be able to make some food, and if we can find some sort of bags, we might be able to save them for a bit."

Tapping her finger on her chin, she looked at what she had found in her bag. Out of everything, the only thing that looked like it would go well with the meal was the saltine crackers.

"These should work for fiber."

Turning on the sink and filling a pot she had found, Mathilda turned toward the door when Misha walked in.

"Misha, darling! Hello, come in, come in. Tara, have you met Misha?"

Nodding to the girls, she stopped the tap and handed the pot to Tara.

"Can you put this on the stove at medium heat? Danke, liebchen. Oh, and I'm a baker by profession, but my vater's side of the family are cooks. Only baker in the whole line of Callahan's. Only female too."

Shrugging, she poked at the potatoes, finding them to be in good shape. Nodding to herself, she searched for a knife.

"They complain, they eat last. Or they can fight me. I may be deadly with a dagger, but trust me, I'm much worse with a kitchen knife."

She twirled the knife she had found between her fingers. Kitchen knives were her favorite thing, even if they weren't used a lot in baking. Looking around the room, she noticed that everyone was doing something, yet a lot still needed to be done.

It was then, she noticed someone who had snuck in. The man had black hair and was wearing a scarf, but he seemed able to work and that's what matted.

"Hey! You in the corner! Stop hiding and get to breaking these crackers! You're in Mathilda's kitchen now, and in my kitchen you help! Well, that or you don't eat! Welcome to the club!"

Cackling, Mathilda slid a package of crackers down the counter, hoping she frightened the man. He looked a bit too serious. Glancing around, she noticed Misha rummaging through silverware.

"Misha! Are there any metal spoons? If so, toss them over. I'm gonna need one."

Passing for a moment, she smiled. It was good to have people in her kitchen, even if it was hers. To her, a kitchen was the heart of a house, and right now, during scary and cold times, moments like these were desperately needed.

"Hm, maybe. The metal might make it hard. We would need pliers to get the feathers off."

With everyone working on something, Mathilda was able to listen to the conversations around her while she worked. She was in her own world, until she heard Tara say her name.

"Hm? Me?" Her gaze zoned out for a second, before she narrowed her eyes at the wall.

"Meine Vater. His whole family, every generation that can be remembered has been a chef. And male. The page that you saw one the counter is from a cookbook that has only been held by the males in the Callahan line. A female has never held the book. It's a rite of passage to have that book and use it. The back of the book has the names of every Callahan male."

She breathed deeply, she continued to wash the knife.

"That book now resides in my room back in the Ares dorm. My Vater gave it to me when I was nine, and I have had it ever since. Apparently, I am the only Callahan who liked the pastry part of the book. The Callahan's are chefs, not bakers. Their wives, if they are married, don't even bake. It's always store bought. So when he saw my interest in the them, he just knew I was meant to bake, and hold that book. Even being raised with a woman like my mother. 'You're equally me and your mother, but are fully yourself.' He told me. So I grew up baking and made it my job. Well, second job. Tiny details."

Smiling, she wiped the knife clean.

"So that's why. It's who I am."

Tara listened to Mathilda's tale with interest, finding the male-dominated family story fascinating. Even if she did prickle a little at the impression she got--at least, she translated it to be that most of the men in the family weren't too supportive of female cooks or bakers. "I'm glad your dad was so supportive of you," she said with a grin. "But wow, since you were nine? I think the extent to my capabilities around that age was... the microwave."

It was really only the Food Network that had taught her enough to manage on her own once she was out of her parents' house and away from their cooking. Even then, it was largely an experiment to see if anything stuck... But baking? Oh god no. That was a science and Tara clung to any recipes she could find online if she wasn't going to just resort to store bought.

When the new guy--of sorts--shot him the pleading look, Tara had to press her lips hard together to keep from laughing. "Your fist works! Or the flat side of a knife," she offered, shrugging a little. "Think of it like a little stress relief outside of bashing birds?" She motioned to her torn jacket she'd hung up over the back of a chair. "You can toss that over the bag if you need something to keep crumbs from flying. I don't think you can do worse than the birds." Though, she paused, giving him a look as if debating if maybe he could--before laughing and sticking her tongue out playfully.

"I really hope they didn't expect to get the jackets and boots back from us in one piece."

Laughing at the man's comment, Mathilda nodded when Tara spoke.

"Either of those works fine! It doesn't have to be perfect, just edible! We will need these of the soup stew! If we break the crackers up, they can spread to more people, and add the salt flavor to the broth. also, watch your scarf!"

Winking at him, she turned to Tara, nodding lightly.

"That he was. And I started helping around age five, actually cooking around seven. I wasn't allowed to use the oven until ten because my father was terrified I'd hurt myself."

Laughing, she turned to Misha and did a little bow.

"Thank you, Mistress Misha. Your help has saved the kitchen, for now."

Smiling, she took the spoon and placed it next to the knife she had just finished cleaning. Moving over to the stove, she checked on the status of the water, hoping it was boiling, or was getting there. She would like to get cooking soon.

"There's nothing like a grandparents cooking." Mathilda answered back. "It is one of the hardest tastes, and feelings, to recreate. I'm more of the middle when it comes to my mother and fathers temperaments. The Callahan's are a close knit family, with high values and respectful of the family. The Dubois, well, they're...special. I like being in the middle range of their spectrum."