in the kitchen continued to hold the small child close to him, hues widen as he seen how big the kitchen was, and how many BAKING equipments it had. giving kaede an idea, “hey jory instead of hot chocolate, how about you and i make my nanny FAMOUS chocolate chip cookies? you can help me taste the batter make sure there is enough chocolate, what do you say?” he spoke gently to the child, glance over at his boyfriend to see he if he had approve of the idea not wanting to ruin the child appetite. “meanwhile, you uncle can fix us up one of his yummy dishes?’
chris shifted slightly and gave small nod at the suggestion. someone should use the cooking equipment. nobody did. it was all henny’s and she wasn’t around anymore. which lead to the next problem. “right, one of uncle chris’s yummy dishes,” he mutters wishing he had one of those. there was not much time to learn cooking up in the attic. and even if they hadn’t been kept in the attic he doubts he’d have learned. his mother knew how to make decent food and she had handled that or bought something. chris had thought it to be a silly skill, he figured someone would always do that for him. when they had come to paul’s henny had taught cathy and carrie a bit. but cathy resented cleaning and cooking, and she didn’t know how to do either. carrie had been a great cook, but she was gone. chris tried to think what he remembered to cook. it came down to a few dishes, all of which he had little interest in. there was soup, fried chicken, sandwiches, eggs, toast, and that where his culinary expertise mostly ended.
chris hated sandwiches, soup, and fried chicken it was the meals him and his siblings were most often given up in the attic. and always luke warm or cold. henny had made fried chicken and it was good enough for him to handle it. but he knew he was nowhere near as competent. he goes into the walk in pantry and looks for henny’s recipe box, he pulls it out and finds a recipe for fried chicken breast, similar enough to what he knows, but not the same. and a recipe for biscuits and gravy something he remembers thoroughly enough that he thinks he can manage.
he takes up his portion of the counter with all sorts of bowls and plates as well as ingredients. he starts first on the chicken staring intensely at the recipe card squinting at henny’s scrawl. he picks up that mallet and slams it down against the chicken breast to flatten it out before dredging it in eggs he’s whisked before rolling it in the flour and then the batter mixture. he repeats it ensuring he’s doing it correctly, all of it giving him more anxiety than he ever feels in the hospital. he peeks over his shoulder at jory and kae for a sort of comforting image of jory’s arm wrapped back around kae’s neck finger tips seeming to shyly inch closer and closer to kae’s curls.
