Persephone (KORE) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
springforth) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
voidtreckerexpress2020-11-08 11:08 pm
springforth) wrote in voidtreckerexpress2020-11-08 11:08 pm
Delicious use of honey within (Closed)
Who: Persephone, Nita, LO, Zetta so far
Where: Kitchen & Laundry
When: Backdated to Day 4
What: Persephone makes delicious honey things and helps avert a bubble crisis
Warnings: None so far
b>A. baklava is my comfort baking
(Closed to Nita and LO)
Persephone waited a few days. Mostly because, who wants to make their own phyllo dough? No one. No one without a great deal of insomnia to deal with and or nothing better to do. Which means she was going to do it in like a week, right before their mission inevitably popped up. But she discovered through the offerings in the dining hall that there was premade phyllo dough and she was sold.
Persephone has ended up sticky, honey on her cheek and probably in her hair, the smell of nuts and baking phyllo wafting through the kitchen. It reminds her of home in a way that sometimes makings her want to cry and sometimes makes her want to throw open the doors and invite everyone in to try it. She had to fudge the recipe, the one provided is not Hestia's after all and definitely not the one she altered from Hestia's. But it's close enough to give her this deep warm feeling.
When someone arrives, she's pouring the honey syrup over, focused on watching it disappear beneath the layers of phyllo. Or perhaps they arrive when she's cutting them into neat little pieces, two big industrial size trays of the things.
B. the wrong washing setting
Closed (For Zetta)
Hefting a large jar of honey in one hand and a bag of walnuts in the other, she elbows her way into the storage car, not really paying attention to the surroundings so much as keeping a hold of precious precious baklava making cargo. What happens next is a comedy of errors. She slips on--something, walnuts--gone. Fallen from her hand. She flails out for something solid, wham, other foot out from under her, honey slipping from her hand. But the fall lands with her sat on stairs, the honey caught in a miraculous grab for the ages.
And then she finally notices the bubbles. The bubbles that were totally not here when she came in here to get all of these things earlier. Nope, it had been utterly free of bubbles, suds, the gentle trickle of water down the stairs. Oh no. She sets the honey on the nearest shelf and clambers carefully up the stairs.
"Oh dear.
Where: Kitchen & Laundry
When: Backdated to Day 4
What: Persephone makes delicious honey things and helps avert a bubble crisis
Warnings: None so far
b>A. baklava is my comfort baking
(Closed to Nita and LO)
Persephone waited a few days. Mostly because, who wants to make their own phyllo dough? No one. No one without a great deal of insomnia to deal with and or nothing better to do. Which means she was going to do it in like a week, right before their mission inevitably popped up. But she discovered through the offerings in the dining hall that there was premade phyllo dough and she was sold.
Persephone has ended up sticky, honey on her cheek and probably in her hair, the smell of nuts and baking phyllo wafting through the kitchen. It reminds her of home in a way that sometimes makings her want to cry and sometimes makes her want to throw open the doors and invite everyone in to try it. She had to fudge the recipe, the one provided is not Hestia's after all and definitely not the one she altered from Hestia's. But it's close enough to give her this deep warm feeling.
When someone arrives, she's pouring the honey syrup over, focused on watching it disappear beneath the layers of phyllo. Or perhaps they arrive when she's cutting them into neat little pieces, two big industrial size trays of the things.
B. the wrong washing setting
Closed (For Zetta)
Hefting a large jar of honey in one hand and a bag of walnuts in the other, she elbows her way into the storage car, not really paying attention to the surroundings so much as keeping a hold of precious precious baklava making cargo. What happens next is a comedy of errors. She slips on--something, walnuts--gone. Fallen from her hand. She flails out for something solid, wham, other foot out from under her, honey slipping from her hand. But the fall lands with her sat on stairs, the honey caught in a miraculous grab for the ages.
And then she finally notices the bubbles. The bubbles that were totally not here when she came in here to get all of these things earlier. Nope, it had been utterly free of bubbles, suds, the gentle trickle of water down the stairs. Oh no. She sets the honey on the nearest shelf and clambers carefully up the stairs.
"Oh dear.
Page 1 of 3