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 Posted: Thu Feb 18, 2010 8:48 am
Dr. Price had all kinds of recommendations for Fallon.
Here, Fallon, use this squeeze ball when you get angry.
Hey, Fallon, have you ever tried sudoku?
Fallon, I want you to visualize a field with me, a nice and quiet field.
She understood -- really, she did -- but for a girl who was used to making her own plans, Fallon was getting a wee bit sick and tired of letting him dictate her day-to-day schedule. Sure, she had noticed an improvement. Now when she got upset, she focused all of her energy on crushing the little toys she'd been given on her second visit instead of having those dizzying moments when anxiety overrode sanity.
That day, however, Fallon had her own plan to test out. Dr. Price wanted her to expand her repertoire of calming activities? That she could do -- and she had her own ideas too. It had been a year and a half since Fallon had taken a cooking class, but she was ready to get back in the habit. Her culinary resume could use some beefing up, and she was always looking to learn new skills.
Sushi, for instance.
The Japanese restaurant was closer to Meadowview than Crystal Academy (wasn't everything?), but Fallon had read a series of stellar reviews of both the food and the cooking classes offered on Saturday mornings before the shop opened for lunch. Of all the cooking disciplines, Fallon was least familiar with Asian flavors and sushi was a foreign beast she hadn't seemed to master. She liked how precisely it had to be rolled, but the flavor combinations continued to elude her. Despite her lack of familiarity, Fallon signed up for the advanced class (Duh, she could handle it, right? RIGHT!) and made her way to the back, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it up on a hook.
A woman in black pants and a white shirt directed her to a table near the back corner and handed her an apron. Fallon slid it on and took a seat at the indicated table. A few other people milled about, but most seemed older than her. It seemed like they were all couples too. Oh well, Fallon would be just fine working by herself.
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 8:56 am
Corinna was a slightly controlling person -- but she wasn't an exceptionally punctual one. This wasn't to say she was frequently tardy, or flaked out of things, either -- just that sometimes she was on time for things, and sometimes she was the last person in the advanced sushi-rolling class to walk through the door, her hair pulled up in a damp, looped-over ponytail.
She felt tired. Corinna had clocked a solid eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, but it hadn't done anything to change the slightly worn-thin feeling she had. Stress, Dylan suggested. Worry, Veronica theorized. But it felt different: she simply felt bone-weary, through and through, no matter what she did or how much she rested. And there was no time to keep experimenting with extra rest; no, not now, not with the White Moon princess and the wizard very likely already here. There was so much to be done.
Worse, she'd learned from her Gaia -- once Sailor Izar -- that this world faced a second threat, perhaps equally terrible, and that that threat was the source of the monster they'd faced. A fallen army, as of the Silver Millennium and Golden Imperium of old: the White Moon and White Earth's ancient history. They meant to subjugate this Earth to their rule, and supplant the White King and Queen with a queen of their own, corrupt and soulless and unfit. They paved their road to the throne with the broken bodies of the innocent.
It was unworthy. Nehelenia meant to put a stop to it -- and so she would. The White Earth was wounded and suffering, in desperate need of help: her Millennium and Alexandros's Imperium, great empires that had weathered centuries, would answer.
But not this morning. This morning was devoted to nothing more life-threatening than an advanced sushi class.
Corinna had considered dropping the class, to focus more of her time on searching for the usurpers, but Veronica had talked her out of it. 'We did agree we'd both try to meet people, to sniff out more candidates; why not in your sushi class? Besides,' she'd grinned like a pixie, 'didn't you say the moon princess was Japanese? Maybe she's nostalgic for the smells and flavors of home. Maybe she'll be there, or if not, you can luuuure her with your incredible sushifying skills.' Veronica didn't say, 'And you need to stop and relax a while,' but it was there on her face, all the same. Corinna was glad she'd refrained from mentioning it. Aphrodite had always been wise about those things.
Around the room were several familiar couples: a pair of twenty-somethings who put mounds of wasabi into everything they made, raced to see how fast the other person could eat it like a wasabi burn was an accomplishment, and both had snorting laughs; an older, well-to-do man who had 'been to Japan' and had lots of commentary on Japanese culture, accompanied by his wife, a self-proclaimed 'hostess with the mostest;' a duo of college students who wore screenprinted anime T-shirts on occasion; and a few other sets of partners who were much quieter and less memorable.
She didn't recognize all the faces. Three new people had shown up for the start of the advanced course, and one of them seemed to be by herself. She was a young girl, maybe the same age as Corinna, with warm skin and cinnamon-stick hair pulled neatly back into twists, and she was currently rearranging some of the objects at her chosen table. Wasting no time, Corinna crossed to the brunette's table. "Hi," she interrupted the silence. "Do you have a partner?"
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Posted: Wed Mar 10, 2010 3:19 pm
There was nothing profound going on underneath the neatly coiffed strands of the cinnamon-haired girl. The only kingdom the freshly-turned 16-year-old had to worry about was her bedroom -- a pristine palace of organization on the third floor of Crystal Academy. While Corinna pondered the fate of the world, Fallon was thinking about the history paper she had to write (oh, how she loathed the subject -- one king dies, another king rises, who cares?) and the gifts she had amassed for Andeon waiting to be wrapped. After she left the sushi class, she intended to go get a manicure and pedicure. If everything fell into place, then she would make cookies for Imogen and Melinda later. It was a happy little plan, and it made a smile creep across her otherwise impassive features. These were the things that crossed Fallon's mind as the blunette approached her table.
Fallon glanced upward. An indigo-haired girl with luminous eyes and light skin stared back at her, framed by the red paper lanterns that hung throughout the restaurant. The girl was unfamiliar, but pretty. Uncommonly lovely, actually, in a way that held Fallon's attention. She also seemed to be the only other person in the place close to Fallon's age. "Oh, no," she said, scooting over to make room. "No partner -- I'm new. I was starting to suspect they might assign groups." The others seemed much more familiar with each other. They idly exchanged conversation while Fallon poked at the neon orange fish roe with a chopstick.
But now there was a pretty girl there -- a pretty girl, sure, but one who was tardy. Fallon tsk-tsked internally, but held her polite smile. "I'm Fallon," she said, setting down the chopstick and laying both hands in her lap. The whole environment was foreign to her, and it showed in her fleeting glances and idle hands.
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Posted: Mon Mar 15, 2010 8:13 am
Cora hooked her purse around the back of the chair next to the other girl, and seated herself, tucking the seat as she did. She held out her hand as she did so, ring finger crested by a band of silver and marcasite chips in organic curves. A gift, from Dylan, not long after they'd Awoken; it left her finger only to shower, to wash a dish, or to handle raw meat products. (Love could conquer a great deal, but probably not salmonella.)
"Corinna Grant," she introduced herself. "I don't like eel or cream cheese in sushi, but otherwise I'll eat most of the ingredients. So, have you worked with the chef before? He's a little quirky."
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Posted: Mon Mar 15, 2010 9:19 am
Fallon inched over to give Cora her personal space and to maintain her own bubble. She broke it only to shake the girl's hand with a smile. Handshaking was such a lost art, one Fallon was fond of. Much better than greeting with a hug, certainly. Oh, how she loathed the oddly intimate. Sudden hugs made her uncomfortable, as did those people who were prone to give them.
Fallon evaluated the girl's appearance as a whole, noting the ring in particular. She was partial to jewelry. Her eyes lingered on it, then moved back to the ingredients. The quality of the fish was excellent. Fallon could tell from the color -- the warm pink of the fresh salmon, the more bleached shade for the smoked, the fleshy white of the albacore. A piece of bluefin tuna was especially pretty; it still had a shining strip of de-scaled skin attached. If there was one thing Fallon could appreciate about sushi, it was the aesthetic appeal.
At the mention of eel, Fallon lifted a chopstick to prod the collection of thin, brown pieces. She actually had cooked with eel before, and appreciated its flavor like any other flavor. Not a favorite, but not hated. "Cream cheese is overpowering. I've never understood the appeal of lox and cream cheese, no matter how much my mother tried to force it on me." She made no move to prod the bowl of white spread. It brought back unpleasant memories of her mother forcing bagels on her with the tell-tale narrowed gaze, hands on hips, mouth murmuring, Everyone eats this. Don't be difficult! As if that would imbue her Jewish identity deeper into her bones.
The chef was not at the front of the class, where he should be, Fallon noted. The wiry man bounced from table to table with a wide grin and open hands, never speaking loud enough for everyone to hear but laughing at twice the volume. Fallon waited for him to address the entire classroom, but he seemed to simply be working his way through the room, talking to people individually. What did he want them to do? How was Fallon supposed to start if she had no instruction? It was an advanced class, sure, but there had to be some kind of technique for the day.
Without being formally given the go-ahead, Fallon continued to stare blankly at the strip of seaweed in front of her. "I don't know him, no. I came here because of the high ratings. He seemed like the best," magenta eyes narrowed, "though it would be nice if he started to instruct at some point." It was ten minutes after class was supposed to start. What was going on?
Fallon fought to push her annoyance at the chef's lack of punctuality out of her head. It still read on her face. So she tried to distract herself with the new girl. "Your ring is very lovely," she said to Corinna, reminding herself to smile. "Where did you get it?" She was always in the market for new jewelry, especially if it was as unique as Corinna's. Personally, Fallon preferred more architectural designs in jewelry, but it still piqued her curiosity.
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Posted: Mon Apr 05, 2010 9:01 am
Corinna fanned her hand out in front of herself in the classic style of a person admiring their giant diamond ring. There were no big stones on her ring, but it had a sparkle to it all the same -- the sort which accompanied a very carefully cared-for piece of jewelry. "My -- boyfriend gave it to me," she smiled, unconsciously puffing up a little, "but I can ask him sometime where he found it. Maybe Etsy."
She looked up, squinting at the paper flipchart at the front of the room -- but nothing was written there yet. "The chef's talented, definitely talented, but he's got a, well, sort of an artistic temperament that might not be the typical chef type. Or not the typical Hell's Kitchen type, anyway.
"In the beginner class, we learned about a lot of the major sushi components, one during each class, then we got into the session? So first, he'd write something on the board, say: TUNA, or CUCUMBER. And you had to make a list of all the things you associated with that word, what it made you think of. Then we all shared our lists, and then, you know, the actual lesson sort of started." Corinna took a small pad of paper out of her bag, faux-leather-bound, with a Fisher Space Pen attached to one side with an elastic strap.
The chef was a nearly rail-thin fellow with a dissonantly square, broad face -- and when he stood up in front of the class, favoring them all with a broad smile, this fanned into an even more dissonant rhombus. He opened his arms as though to encapsulate them all in a giant air hug. "Hello, class," came the greeting, followed by a short bow (arms still outstretched, like he was conducting an orchestra). "Today we enter the wonderful world of the avocado. I want you to take five minutes and write down a list of five combinations of flavors -- avocado plus two other ingredients -- that you think would work well together over rice. Let's all take this first step together with our partners."
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Posted: Mon Apr 05, 2010 12:40 pm
Fallon watched the ring flashing in the low lantern light. If it weren't for the sunlight streaming in through the wide windows breaking up the far wall, it might have been too dark for a cooking class. Instead it simply held the same ambiance of a hookah lounge or what Fallon imagined a high brow fashion party might use. "Your boyfriend has good taste," she commented, straightening her chopsticks on the napkin. One rolled away, and she frowned, pushing it back into place.
Etsy was a familiar place to Fallon, but she had a hard time committing to purchases via an online dealer. She was a big believer in manhandling all jewelry and clothing before purchasing it, and she didn't use Etsy for much else. They had nice hand-made headbands from various sellers, most too loud for her tastes. She had no desire to look like a peacock was squatting on her head. The ring, though, was nice. She made a mental note to give Etsy another chance that night.
As Corinna took the time to explain the teaching method, Fallon took the time to readjust her chopsticks. They weren't sitting right on the napkin; it was bothersome. Her pale pink nails tapped in irritation over the lacquered base. She had just opened her mouth to talk to Corinna about her thoughts on tuna and cucumber, but the chef beat her to the punch. Under her breath, she murmured, "Ah, the prodigal teacher returns," and then diverted all of her attention to him, lack of punctuality and all.
The explanation was simple enough, and Corinna had filled in the blanks that the chef did not. Fallon was grateful for that. Otherwise, her hand might have darted into the air, ready to drown him in a deluge of questions. No sooner had he stopped talking, and Fallon already had her five combinations in mind. They were flavor mixes she had used before, but never in sushi. Would they translate here?
A hand disappeared below the table and reappeared holding her own black notebook and matching pen. She flipped it open. "Avocado combinations," she narrated as she wrote. She assumed they would both want their own lists. Or at least she knew she wanted to keep her own copy too.
Her fingers darted over the page, writing down a series of flavor combinations. She wrote methodically, but in quick, sharp strokes. Her pen circled some of the list, crossed out others. After a minute or so of quiet contemplation, Fallon glanced back up to Corinna. "I've never made sushi before, not myself, but I've worked with avocado. I imagine the flavors should translate, the rice would offer little opposition other than texture. The seaweed on the other hand..." She struck out a few more combinations and then eyed her list. "Out of these, I'd say mango, smoked salmon, and avocado would be my first combination. I prefer fresh salmon, but it can contain worms." Fallon scribbled a few more notes across the crisp pages of her notebooks. "I read up on Japanese sushi for some background on the class. Many chefs have stopped using fresh salmon in traditional rolls because of the parasite content. If packaged and treated correctly, it shouldn't be an issue..." She threw a skeptical glance toward the teacher. He was making big arm motions at a table near the front, almost as though he were miming a whale. Odd. "Yes, smoked salmon should be fine." The pen scratched against the paper as she starred that entry.
There were more combinations on the list, others that rattled on Fallon's lips. She had the good sense to slam the brakes on her eagerness and flash Corinna a belated smile. "What do you think?" she asked, resting her hand back on the table but keeping her pen pinched between painted nails.
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Posted: Sat Apr 10, 2010 6:54 pm
Corinna had replied to Fallon's assertion by sitting back a bit in her chair and laughing -- "Well, my boyfriend's dating me, so in that sense I'd say his taste is questionable." But she didn't opt to elaborate; Fallon would find out what had been obvious since her kindergarten progress reports: Corinna Grant did not play well with others.
But she tried to be quiet and polite this time, to act a bit more like Ronnie would, because she was supposed to be trying to make friends. So while Fallon started their list, Cora listened -- politely. And let Fallon keep their list -- politely. And smiled -- encouragingly, she hoped.
"Salmon and mango sounds delicious," she nodded. Corinna could taste it on her tongue.
She liked avocado well enough, though in her opinion, its highest calling in life was to become part of an amazing guacamole dip like her mom sometimes made, to be eaten with lime tortilla chips. Thinking about other flavors that might go well with it in sushi format was a bit more of a challenge, but eventually she settled on, "Bacon and black pepper-fried zucchini, but I'm not sure how well that'd go over rice. Crab and mushroom? What do you think?"
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Posted: Sat Apr 10, 2010 9:01 pm
Corinna was pretty, but Fallon wasn't going to tell her so. She had only just met the girl. It was a little creepy to throw too many compliments her way. If Cora wanted to be playfully self-deprecating, then Fallon would smile and laugh. Simple enough, polite.
Her pen traced across the notebook, printing in thin, neat curves. The calligraphy lessons had been helping. Howl would be proud of her, she thought, imagining the teal-haired boy saying something sickly polite and bending to kiss her pen. His formality outshone hers by a long shot. She admired it about him, just as she admired the airs of this girl.
Lifting her pen, Fallon underlined the flavor combination she'd voiced aloud and then copied down Corinna's. "That sounds good," she said, dotting the i's on the zucchini with a precise stabbing on the pen. "If the zucchini was truly crisped, that could be very nice. Soggy zucchini with avocado consistency on top of rice would be a big mushy mouthful, even with a well-crisped bacon." Fallon was talking shop, and she didn't even realize it.
"I had crab and mushroom too. Let's keep that then." The pen scratched over the paper. "What about radish and eel? I know you don't like eel, but the crisp tartness of the radish with the avocado would be nice paired with it. Do we eat our own rolls? Or are we just trying to impress the professor? I'm not sure what the objective is beyond technique and flavor profiles." Her hands continued to move over the table, lifting this, prodding that, always retreating back to the paper. "I've never worked with this particular species of eel, I don't think." There was a sampling of meats on the table, and Fallon used a chopstick to lift a piece of the eel. A small plate sat in front of her. She dropped the eel on it, broke off a piece, and tasted it, rolling the tiny chunk all across her tongue. Hm. Not bad. "I think that would work," she confirmed, nodding crisply.
Fallon made a few more notations, eyes following the instructor as he flopped around the room before coming back to rest on Corinna. "What makes you want to create sushi? Are you a chef?" The last question was asked with a hint of curious skepticism that Fallon tried to disguise with a friendly smile.
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