Two Wrongs Do Make a Wright // Claire & Maya
"So we meet again, old friends.”
Maya narrowed her eyes at the little fried balls laying innocently in a basket out on the counter. Takoyaki balls. How many years had the recipe eluded her? It was the traditional snack of the fireworks festival; Yolanda must have made hundreds each time the holiday rolled around. And yet never, not once, had Maya succeeded in making a batch. The octopus was cut too large, or the batter the wrong consistency, or maybe there weren’t enough spices in the glaze.
All details she eventually managed to work through.
But the one thing that seemed impossible to get right was the perfectly round shape. Maya had studied the griddle, watched Yolanda, and even set timers for herself, but it never worked! One side would always be cooked too much or too little, the batter would be uneven in texture, and the most frustrating result (besides just burning it completely) was when the balls were too raw and ended up falling apart. Maya would stare at the utter failure before when that would happen, noting how the takoyaki was in pieces… much like her culinary career.
“Stop mocking me!” Maya grumbled as she took the basket and headed out of the inn towards the beach. At least it was a beautiful day. The weather was hot but a consistent sea breeze kept it from being unbearable. The ocean was as blue as the sky, which was crystal clear and would provide a perfect backdrop for the fireworks later that night. Her family’s booth was situated in the sand near some other vendors. Jake was crouched over a griddle, but when he spotted Maya’s pink dress he waved her over.
“Maya!” he said as she set everything down. “Will you watch the booth while I go help your mother and grandmother?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but he did pause mid-step and call over his shoulder. “And don’t feed the birds this time. We don’t need a repeat of the debacle last year.”
She didn’t even get the chance to defend herself before he was gone. What a meanie! Maya pouted as she grabbed a toothpick and stabbed one of the balls. She lifted it up to her face and glared at it with childish disdain.
“I hate you,” Maya said before taking a bite. As much as she wanted keep her sour expression, her face soon broke out in delight as her mouth burst with flavor. Some drool collected on the end of her toothpick as her eyes slipped shut. If heaven were fried and served as a seafood snack at Summer festivals, this would be it. Finally she swallowed and looked back at the basket.
“I lied,” Maya breathed out. “I could never hate you. But why do you have to be so… so complicated?!” Forgetting that she should probably be saving most of it for the customers, Maya skewered another ball and quickly popped it into her mouth.
