Posted by Commander Mason Black (Executive Officer) in Side Sim: 6-Forward Lounge [Open]

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Paris Carisi (Chief of Security) in Side Sim: 6-Forward Lounge [Open]

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Paris Carisi (Chief of Security) in Side Sim: 6-Forward Lounge [Open]
snip
“Aww da–dagnabbit!” A woman, clearly vexed, hissed at the pan as if it were capable of understanding her severe displeasure with its results. Four. That was how many times the engineer had attempted an omelette. Each time, in some new and fantastical way, she had managed to burn or otherwise destroy the poor creation. “You’d think someone who could handle the warp core of a ship could figure out simple eggs.” She muttered to herself, wrinkling her nose at the rubbish chute that taunted her from the corner of her eye.

Exasperated, Andromeda rubbed her face only to realise she had pieces of egg on her fingertips. Pulling her hands back at the feeling of an oily presence on her skin, whe stared down at the smooshed, slightly burnt eggs that littered her fingertips. Without anything else to say or do, she laughed. Sentrya knew she probably looked and sounded insane, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Having rinsed her hands off, and wiped what felt like egg from her cheeks, Sentrya figured it was time she settled for the replicator. Time was fleeting and she had work to finish for her classes. Defeated, albeit determined to succeed the next time, Andromeda begrudgingly approached the replicator. Eggs didn’t sound good anyways.

Sentrya, a Frazzled Engineer

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Paris called out crossing the room. “Did Sobby Flay quit when he was asked host Big Chefs of the Federation? Did Temeril Lagasse quit before he trademarked the kitchen battle cry of Bam! Did Pordon Ramsey stop before making a whole lot of chefs cry? Did Machel Ray stop before sharing the secret of making a full on replicated dinner in 30 seconds or less? Nooooooo so why are you quitting now,” Paris teased good-naturedly walking up to the area Sentrya was just all. A quick sniff told Paris why they were in the trash.

“Because I’m starting to feel like one of Panne Burrell’s Worst Chefs of the Federation. Did you see the Andorian man last season–the one who couldn’t cook a grilled cheese without burning the cheese? I’m pretty sure I’m worse that him.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought. “Replicators never fail. They might taste a bit bland, but at least it’s edible!” Sentrya waved a finger at Paris, as if trying to prove her point, when really it was the embarrassment that kept her from continuing on.

“Come on. Let’s try it again but we can be the cooking team of,” Paris’ voice trailed off. Chefs tended to be solo in her recollection but there was a first time for anything. Eating alone was boring and dropping in on someone already eating at times felt lame. This was a perfect bridge to inviting yourself to someone else’s meal.

Lt. Commander Paris Carisi COS (Chef with no training whatsever past ration bars and hot dogs on sticks while camping )

Andromeda glanced skeptically at her from her safespot beside the replicator. Part of her was clinging to the fact she had no idea if Paris could cook. The other was tempted at the thought of enjoying the moment, rather than spending the next thirty minutes sitting alone with a replicated bowl of muck. “Fine. But no omelets.. I’ve burnt my way through a whole year’s worth!” She laughed. “What sounds good?”

Sentrya, Candidate for Worst Chefs of the Federation, Season 12

“You’re cooking?” Mason asked coming up to them. He had agreed to meet Paris for their meal but had run slightly later than intended. He sniffed at the air as he reached them, then looked at Paris and Andromeda warily. “Lieutenant Sentrya, has Paris been in the kitchen or did we burn out an EPS relay?” His question was good natured, and his smile would let them know the tease although it was clear he fully believed it had been Paris doing the cooking.

Cmdr Black, XO

“Has Paris been in the kitchen,” Paris crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at Mason. “I am pretty sure you were asking for seconds last night when I made that noddley thing,” she looked at him as if to see if he would change his story not that his honest Abe reputation was on the line.

“Erm,” Sentrya’s cheeks flushed beet red, “you can thank me for the smell, sir.” Despite his facetious manner, Andromeda couldn’t help her sheepish expression. At this rate, the entire ship would know of her ineptitude before dessert was out of the oven. On the bright side, she wouldn’t be obligated to cook for anyone in the foreseeable future.

“Oh don’t call him sir,” Paris waved off her comment. “When a man starts complaining about cooking they all get busted down to one name.”

“Whoa.. wait a moment.” Drome waved a finger at them, shaking her head. “Paris, are we going to end up responsible for the kitchen’s destruction?” Her smile lightened with mirth. “Maybe we should ask for help? I’m sure the LCARS have something resembling a cookbook.”

Sentrya, CE

“Oh no no no. No way. He is not helping us cook. He is going to have to be a tasting judge,” Paris looked almost gleeful. “He thinks that replicators are better. Let’s test that. You cook. I cook. Replicators do what they do. Mason eats it in a triple-blind study.” The more she talked the better this idea was.

“Cooks VS Replicators, ” Drome shot her a grin of affirmation for her plan, “we’ll prove no replicator can match humanity’s culinary expertise.”

“So should we let him pick what he thinks he can cook or do we surprise him,” Paris asked Drome.

Lt. COmmander Paris Carisi COS

“We could give him the choice of ingredients, and we’d conjure something from those.” She suggested, adding a bit of rigor to their game. The possibility of Mason choosing some obscure ingredient concerned her, but she was up for the challenege. Her and her culinary ineptitude. “What do you think?”

Sentrya, Chief Engineer

“Yes yes like those gourmet cooking shows. It can’t be that hard,” she shrugged it off. “I mean it is all the same. Put it in a pan and cook it.” Paris was getting more and more excited about this activity. Her mom cooked a lot when they lived on Mars. Maybe this would be a new thing. She could cook for Mason at least one meal a day.

“I’ll believe it when this evening ends without damage control joining us for leftovers,” she grinned.

“So what sounds good,” she smiled turning to the XO. “Nothing is off the table as to what we can make.”

Lt. COmmander Paris Carisi COS

Andromeda tapped her fingers against the countertop in anticipation. She was eager to get cooking. Communicators were not known for their competitive nature, but ever since she’d switched into the Engineering field, Dromë had learned a thing or two about fun.

Sentrya, CE

“Well, let me see what we might have here,” Mason said and walked behind the small galley to the replicator. He thought for a minute, then started replicating ingredients.

“Cheese. Mushroom. Chicken. Bacon. Potato. Leeks. Onion. Brussel sprouts. Okey, here we go,” Mason said after handing the ingredients to Paris and Andromeda then turning around.

“Omelets,” Paris wrinkled up her nose. “Come on Mason. I said make it hard not something a five-year-old can make. I mean how hard is it? You toss in a couple of eggs, mix it all up and flip it over. Please this ridiculous but you asked for it. I was just hoping you would have made it harder,” she rolled her eyes. Paris had hoped it would be something like a flambe although to be fair she had no idea what a flambe actually was. She doubted it was just meat on fire but that would be next weeks cooking lesson. Sentrya had started with eggs so eggs it would be.

“Where were you five minutes ago?” Andromeda scoffed, the image of burnt eggs permanently engrained in her memory. If a phobia of eggs was a psychological diagnosis, she was well on the path to it.

“Lets say, you can choose three other ingredients that I haven’t picked, aside from seasoning. You do know what seasoning is, right Paris?” Mason grinned as he asked her, and glanced at Andromeda with a slight wink to let her in on the tease.

Cmdr Black, XO

“Oh, sure she does! Adding a few leaves and seeds here and there can’t be that difficult,” she bat her gaze between the two, her voice reduced to uncertainty, “can it?”

“Oh I am all about the three ingredients,” Paris walked over to the replicator. Dropping her voice she said in a low voice “Computer I want an exotic omelet. Show me recipes that will look like ordinary ones but have a wow factor and do it at volume ten percent,” Paris said. If she was going to wow she needed some help and the replicator had a billion and one ways to wow.

=/\=Try Wild harvest substitutes to bring your brunch to the edge of adventure. Substitute Ostrich eggs and camel bacon for a more smoky and gamey quality that speaks to the outdoors adventurer=/\= Oddly enough it was not the high pitched tinny voice of the replicator but a deeper baritone. It only took Paris a second to realize why she seemed to know the voice. =/\=On my expedition with Man vs. Universe=/\= Ric Erins continued =/\=They paired this with a zesty avocado spread. Get What A Man of the Universe Eats cookbook=/\=. It might have only been an infomercial for a recipe collection but the hot adventurer sold Paris on the idea. Technically the avocado was only one of the three extra things Paris could add so she inquired more. Five minutes later Paris gave up. She had the twist with the ostrich and camel so she could be happy with caviar and avocado as the special ingredients.

“What exactly are you planning with that?” Mason asked, eyeing the extra things suspiciously.

“Mason you need to go over there,” Paris stated. “We don’t want you seeing the food and influenced by it or,” her eyes lit up. =/\=Computer erect a solid screen force field one meter off the table=/\= she requested. Instantly she and Sentrya had a shield where they could create the magic Mason would eat but not able to see.

Lt. Commander Paris Carisi COS

“Omelette?” Mason asked as the screen sprung into place. “I give you those ingredients and you choose omelettes?” Shaking his head, he turned and searched for the nearest chair, approaching it he sat and placed his ankle on his knee, fingers tapping absently on the table. He couldn’t see what was going on, but the screen wasn’t going to stop any smells of what they were doing. “Omelettes, I guess they cannot muck that up too badly, right?” He said to nobody in particular.

Cmdr Mason Black
XO

Eggs. Onion. Leeks. Mushrooms. Chicken. Potato. Brussels. She ran the list through her head as if studying for a Chemistry test. She’d little experience with cooking most proteins, aside from river fish like Salmon and the occasional trout. Chicken was off the table..unless Mason was keen on contracting salmonella. Taking a step back, she closed her eyes. Andromeda had always been drawn to visualization; in communications she envisioned each word as a figure, in engineering each equations as a geometric design. She didn’t know how to explain the process, but it somehow worked for her.

Leeks..mushrooms..potatoes.. They took her back to the land of her ancestors; groves of fir trees as far as the eye could see, the gentle tap of rain slapping against the roof, thunderclouds and roaring currents along the Umpqua river. There it was, the sweet smell of Brussels and pumpkin roasting in the over as the aroma of a caramelizing medley of onions and mushrooms filled her senses. She could see it; her grandmother standing over the stove, carefully flipping salmon cakes to reveal their crisp, browned crust–that was it!

“I know what I’m going to do!” She whispered in excitement. It was a silent win for her. To the replicator she sprung, her order spilling before she’d fully reached it, “ground salmon, cornmeal and whole milk.” She’d watched her grandmother prepare this dish time and time again. It was a staple for her family, a testament to her people, but also something she couldn’t completely screw up.

It wasn’t as exotic as Paris’ attempts at her caviar..avocado..omelette..whatever she was trying to make, but it would do. Salmon cakes with roasted Brussels and potatoes with caramelized onions and mushrooms. She didn’t know what leeks were, so they were out of the mix. It was a wild thought, and she wasn’t sure that it would turn out anything like her grandmother’s, but it was something.

“Do seasonings count as extra ingredients?” She questioned, slowly (and sloppily) dicing an onion as not to run the blade straight through her fingertip. She was much further behind than her colleague in this competition against technology, but it was worth it. “Or can we use those as we please?”

Sentrya,
The old-timey “cook.”