Jambalaya and a crawfish pie and filé gumbo

[kingofneworleans]

Who: Remy and YOU!
What: Stress cooking
Where: The kitchen late at night
When: After this conversation with Ric.
Warnings/Notes: None to start. Will change as things go.


Remy's been meaning to get into the kitchen since they'd returned from that damned sitcom mission. Not being allowed to do any of the cooking hadn't been comfortable at all. Somehow, it was even more annoying than only being able to cook late at night on the Rig.

Still, there are at least the nights for cooking and tonight, he means to take advantage of it. Checking what's in the kitchen crosses jambalaya off his mental list, but gumbo should still work. After all, it's mostly a stew. It's a little easier to switch things out.

Which is how anybody who comes in will find him in about an hour, with a massive pot on the stove and cutting up vegetables to add to the pot. There's music in the background, which doesn't sound quite right. But Remy's humming along and that seems to be good enough for the moment.

Comments

[fuckcable]

And it is over an hour later before Rictor makes his appearance. He’d given their conversation some thought - had seriously considered pretending it didn’t happen - but, in the end, he turns up to awkwardly decorate the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

The simmering pot smells fantastic. Smells like home. “How come they haven’t enlisted you to cook yet?”

The kitchen staff are decent people, for Jorgmund employees, but lunch does not smell this good.

[kingofneworleans]

"Cause dey got rules 'bout t'ings like how much taste de food has." Remy glances over at him, then jerks his head to motion Julio closer. "Least ways, dat's de only reason I can guess."

Had there been more X-Men around, somebody MIGHT have spilled that Remy doesn't always share the kitchen easily, but with only Rogue and Rictor around, the lunch ladies probably hadn't heard that.

[fuckcable]

“Don’t you know that spicy food will make us spicy?” They’re not exactly being given a lot of stimulation, o matter how their lives are regimented.

He takes the hint and comes into the room more fully, but Ric still looks unsure, even if nobody’s shouting. He should offer to help, but salad would be more his speed rather that gumbo sous chef. He doesn’t know that Remy doesn’t share. Excalibur can’t cook. “You need help?”

[kingofneworleans]

Rogue bakes and knows most of Remy's recipes, anyway, so between the two of them, they're probably able to keep Excalibur fed. And Remy doesn't even just cook Cajun food. But, at the moment, he needs the comfort food.

He considers that for a moment before shaking his head. "Not'in' at de moment. It's jus' 'bout at de point where it needs to cook down for a while. Wanna find some drinks?" The beer is piss poor, but it's a good social lubricant.

[fuckcable]

Julio doesn’t think anything tastes off with the egg plant on Krakoa, Jubilee uses candy bars in place of protein bars, and Ric will eat his shoe if Betsy knows how to cook. The majority of Excalibur can’t cook.

“I can do that.” He knows exactly where the beer is kept and a six pack practically materializes in his hands. Ric peels two cans out of their rings and cracks them open, handing one. “I used to have know how to make a margarita with a beer bottle upside down in it. As you drink the margarita, the beer replaced it and mixes with ‘rita. It made shitty beers taste better.”

[drladysounds]

It's been a long day full of unwanted memories, both from others and from herself. Shelley is quickly finding out the Stuff is nothing to mess with -- not that she'd have been tempted, having gotten the gist of it during the induction Powerpoint presentation she got when she was dragged into this world, but...the part about memories and the such hadn't been mentioned at all. Not only that, it also seemed anything unexplained or abnormal around here could be attributed to the Stuff!

What a wondrous world this is, but also she's starting to feel maybe it's going to be a rough time.

She has been giving the whole rig a look-over, trying to see if there's anything worth noting about the place when it's late at night -- when in an unfamiliar place, make sure you know as much as you can about it! Still, she didn't expect to find someone in the kitchen. The late night staff in the area warn her to not touch anything, no kitchen privileges for Shelley.

It takes her a moment to realize it's a fellow New Hire. She's pretty sure she has seen that face in the vicinity of the quarters, at least. Still looking around like she's expecting to find anything new when it's nighttime, Shelley stays some distance away, observing appliances and stoves without touching anything.

"You know, whatever you got over there is the tastiest stuff I have smelled in quite a while. The food from the mess hall is like the culinary equivalent of stale air and barren fields"

A bit of a wordy way of saying that food won't kill you but also you'd rather have something better.

[kingofneworleans]

Well, that's a new voice. Remy glances over to Shelley, his eyes hooded enough that the dark color and the red light might be a trick of the light. "Gumbo, chère. An' you ain't wrong 'bout de food normally. Bes' I can say 'bout it is dat dey ain't starvin' us."

Even if it wasn't by much in some of their cases. "Don' t'ink we've met 'fore. You new?"

[drladysounds]

"Right? Corporate culture is all about cutting corners but doing that with food is pretty much a sin!" It's indignant. Good food is great for comfort during hard times, so that they don't have even that much is quite disappointing.

Oh, right, she's a new face. Shelley glances at him from where she's examining the stoves.

"Sure am! Shelley Winters, right here -- and I'm so glad meeting you isn't done through a traumatic memory. Today was...a rough day...and not only for me, I bet"

She says that last part quietly. Few people like to see their memories play in front of them and, as if that wasn't enough, in front of a complete stranger. Your most vulnerable moments aren't to be seen by random people.

"Although if it turns out this is a memory too and it's all about you making gumbo then I'm not complaining"

[kingofneworleans]

"Well. I can't guarantee it ain't a memory, 'sactly. That said, I ain't really done a lot of cookin' in dis kitchen, so pretty sure we're safe."

He gives everything another stir before putting the lid on the pot. "Though I HAVE made a lotta gumbo, so maybe we ain't free an' clear jus' yet." Offered with a flash of a smile as he turns away from the stove. "Remy LeBeau. Pleasure to meet you, Shelley Winters."

[drladysounds]

Remy LeBeau, now that's a nice name. Easy to remember, too. Shelley leans on the counter some distance away, resting her chin on her hands. She's in no hurry, talking to Remy is a nice distraction from an otherwise draining day.

"It's not like I know much about the bayou cuisine, but gumbo sounds a tad too heavy for a late night snack! Are you trying to pull an all-nighter tonight?"

She doesn't offer her help -- too many cooks in a kitchen ruins food, or whatever the saying goes, she can't remember it -- but she does seem to be taking interest in watching him work. Good cooking is a delight, and she's not outstanding in that particular field. Picking up a tip or two from watching someone else cook would be useful to her.

[just_rogue]

There was a knock, just a soft rap of knuckles on the edge of the metal archway of the kitchen.

"Ah know better'n ta just barge in when yer cookin' up a storm. But Ah thought Ah'd offer ta help if ya needed any."

When he cooked like this it was because he had a lot on his mind or in his heart and he was trying to get it out. Remy wasn't necessarily great with always talking about his feeling outright but she knew how he grew up and she knew the time he had long talks with Matti in the kitchen. She knew the love the woman had for him and how she'd reared him as much as anyone and that it was a safe emotional space for Remy.

So she wouldn't intrude, but she'd put out the offer, and all that went unsaid with it.

[kingofneworleans]

He glanced up from his chopping, giving her a wan smile. "Don' need much help, gotta say, but could use some company."

Mattie had been there for him for most of his childhood, even before Jean-Luc had taken him in. She was his mother in all but blood. And entirely beyond his ability to reach at the moment, so he went for the next best thing: her cooking.

Remy finished dicing up an onion, setting it side with the bell pepper and celery. "Jus' gettin' everyt'in' chopped up."

[just_rogue]

"Well, reckon Ah could whip up some corn bread pretty easy as long as Ah'm just takin up space."

A gloved hand smoothed softly over his shoulder as she passed to gather a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon. No measuring cups because her gran had taught her by the 'that look 'bout right' method of cooking and Rogue wasn't sure she could properly measure anything if her life depended on it.

She began fishing for ingredients, dry first, always dry. Corn meal, flour, sugar, salt, all the rest and leaned over to twist a stove setting to the proper temperature. Guessing he was cooking as Remy usually did when he was thinking, she doubled her ingredients and shifted them through together.

"If ya have anything on yer mind, ya know ya can talk. Don't mean ya have to.. just sayin'." And she left it at that as she mixed and shifted again before setting the dry ingredients aside and hunting for butter.

Can't make country dishes without butter no matter who tells you otherwise.

[kingofneworleans]

"Cornbread'd be good."

Remy leaned into the touch on his shoulder, moving easily around the mostly unfamiliar kitchen. Not the first time he'd been there to cook up a storm, but he hadn't done it as often as he would have back home. It was rare a week went by he didn't take over one of the school kitchens, after all.

He was quiet as he turned to put the vegetables in the pot, aromatics hitting the oil with a sizzle. It was another few moments before he spoke. "You catch de chat I had wit' Rictor?" Easiest way to broach the conversation.

[just_rogue]

"Might'a seen a bit." Rogue allowed, not pressing, not offering judgement or making any commentary just letting him talk if he wanted.

"Seemed like ya'll had differn't opinions on things." To say the least, personally she agreed with Remy, but this was what he was working through and she was here to support him as he did. She'd been trying to learn to do that, support not fix. Not every problem was something she needed to fix, sometimes she just needed to be there to help offer support and if he needed her help then she could step in.

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday had popped into the mess for a late-night feed when the smell drew her back into the kitchen. She materializes somewhere over Gambit's left shoulder, inhaling the aroma with an exquisitely satisfied expression.

"So, two questions. That enough for everyone and d'you need help?"

[kingofneworleans]

"Pro'ly ain't 'nough for everyone, but only 'cause I got limits on what I can get." Remy doesn't react to her popping up at his shoulder as he leans over to stir the pot. "Got some dried sausage over dere dat I'm gonna be choppin' up for de gumbo if you want somet'in' to do, though."

[wheyoftheadept]

"On it." Culinary knifework and swordplay have more then a few things in common; she slices, she dices, she juliennes, and she continues to do so to anything he indicates she should. Possibly with a bit too much relish, like she's assigning names and faces to the victims of her cuisine.

"So how's your day been? You seen this club bullshit?"

[kingofneworleans]

She's every bit as good as anybody else he's ever seen with a knife. And it's certainly impressive. Remy glances over at her, just enough to make certain she's being safe before going back to the other stuff.

"Oui, I seen it. At a guess, dey tryin' to keep us busy."

[wheyoftheadept]

"Yeah. We may've been a bit too competent over in helltown..." She frowns as a vegetable bounces away from a particularly enthusiastic chop. "Not sure what other options we had, though. Hero stuff runs too deep in this lot."

She retrieves the recalcitrant vegetable, mulling over something she hasn't quite figured out the words for, yet.

"I worry about our timeline," is what she says, somewhat vaguely. "We've shown a card or two, and still haven't seen theirs."

[greyerrant]

A huge figure casts a shadow befoer it an even be seen in the kitchen, adn a deep voice rumbles.

"That smells good." A massive blond-haired man lumbers into the kitchen, moving like a bear, and asks Remy.

"You have all you need to cook, or should I... procure supplies."

Being head of the garden club has certain privileges, after all.

[kingofneworleans]

"Merci." Remy looks up, not at all surprised to not be alone. He'd have gone somewhere else if he wanted to be alone, after all. "Makin' gumbo. Not sure if you've heard of dat 'fore." Since people were from all different places and times. "Basically jus' a spiced stew from my hometown. As for de supplies...depen's on what you're offerin'."

[greyerrant]

"Parsley, Mint, and Dill for three. Mostly herbs at this point. We have a few carrots and potatoes as well."

As for gumbo itself, he shakes his head. "I don't actually know much about cooking. We ate slabs of processed nutritional material, a mix of meat and vegetable matter. Only at feasts or victory celebrations did we have more complex fare, and those were prepared by menials."

[kingofneworleans]

"Hmm. Might have some use for parsley. Not so much for de ot'er two right now." Which doesn't mean he won't, eventually. But most of the recipes he made didn't call for it.

He nods at that, though, setting aside the spoon and putting the lid back on the pot. "Wouldn't've gotten very far if I didn' learn how to cook for myself. Mind, t'ink part of de reason ma tante taught me to cook was jus' to get me to sit still an' pay 'tention for a bit."

[greyerrant]

"Understood. Forgive me, your dialect is somewhat difficult for me to parse, what is a ma tante, if I can inquire? I am assuming a parental figure from context, but I feel it would be more polite to ask."

He smiles, somewhat apologetically.