Sylvia Chapter 11 (WIP)
"Pie... pie. Found it." Oma opened the large book to the right place and then looked up quizzically. "What are those fruits called again?"
"Apples." Sylvia paused to examine one little crab apple that had an odd shape to it, then popped it into her mouth and picked up the next one to peel.
"There are ... one hundred and twenty eight recipes for apple pie," reported Oma as she flipped through the pages.
"We don't want one with custard. And... I think one with a crust made from old bread might be the easiest for us this time." Sylvia put the tiny pared and quartered fruit in with its fellows and grabbed the next one.
"That isn't going to damage your cheek?" Oma paused to look at her curiously.
Sylvia blushed and shifted the apple in her mouth, but shook her head. "No. Human cheeks are very flexible."
"Alright. ...If you're sure." Oma flashed her a smile and resumed perusing the book. "Ah. No... Hmm. But this contains cinnamon in the crust. You are fond of cinnamon. Would a crust made from bread dipped into a mixture of eggs, cinnamon, sugar, and milk be acceptable?"
"Maybe," said Sylvia, intrigued. "What does it say to do with the dipped bread?"
"Hmmmm. Fry it on the griddle, and then line the pie plate with it before filling it with the cooked and spiced apple mixture." Oma related the spices recommended for the apple filling.
"Ohhhh." Sylvia hesitated, her eyes going over to her cooking area. "I know how to fry French toast, and this sounds similar."
"And I will assist, if you instruct me." Oma grinned encouragingly, obviously having a great deal of fun so far with their cooking endeavour.
"Well, we need to finish getting the apples ready first." Sylvia looked up and then gave a surprised chuckle. "An apron?"
"She's wearing one." Oma turned the book to show a drawing of a lady in a knee length dress and an apron. "I thought I should put on the proper uniform."
Sylvia laughed softly, absently giving thanks again for this new family member. In the three weeks that Oma had been living with her and Grandfather a whole new world of interesting things had opened to her. True, she now had less time for solitary studying, but at the same time she was learning about other subjects that she would never have thought to study because of their more hands on nature. Like this current project.
"Is there another peeling knife?" Oma peeked into one of the drawers in Sylvia's kitchen storage area.
"Yes. The second from the top drawer on the left hand side has the other one." Sylvia nodded toward it. "It's too big for my hands, but your hands are larger."
"Yes. I need to be a strong and strapping individual, in order to keep up with you, your grandfather, and Zeta Zelda." Oma grinned as she took out the knife and moved her stool closer to the container of apples. "These do have a pleasant scent, don't they?"
"It's my favourite apple scent." Sylvia sniffed at the fruit she'd just picked up, then started to peel it. "I hope the pie will taste good, though they won't be as chunky as the apples in the pies that Esther's Oma makes. These apples turn into sauce really easily."
"Isn't sauce something that you pour over other food to flavour it?" Oma looked up, brows drawn together with confusion.
"Yes. But it's also the common term for apple puree. I think it comes from back when they actually did use it for a sauce for the carcasses of some of the animals that humans used to eat." Sylvia made a face at the thought. "Thankfully now we have better food, and don't have to kill highly developed organisms to get it."
"Are there not budding lives in some of the duck eggs?" asked Oma, intent on making sure that apple peelings went into one container, and cores and seeds into another.
"Yes. But Grandfather sells those to people who want ducks. Only one of our female ducks ever lays fertile eggs, though. The others all make ones that are good to eat." Sylvia paused to nibble apple peel, enjoying the tart taste. Then she frowned slightly. "One of my friends wants to go and live on another world, so that they can grow their food in the ground instead of in hydroponic trays."
"That troubles you?" Oma glanced at her quizzically.
"No. Though I'll miss Hannah and her brothers. It's just the thought of how people on other planets still do kill things for food. It's... a little bit frightening."
"Ah." A hand gently squeezed her shoulder. "I have never understood the desire to kill either. But there may be some who would be frightened by your diet too."
"True." Sylvia set apple quarters in with their fellows. "I know the fact that I eat duck eggs would really make the kids at the local school express some opinions. They think that even cultured animal protein is wrong, and no amount of explaining that some blood types need that kind of food will change the belief."
"Yet surely they eat it." Oma sniffed at a bit of peel and then put it into its place.
"Yes. But... well, have you seen the usual human rations?"
"They are very highly processed."
"Yeah. Nobody really knows what goes into them. The kids at school used to joke that they're made from old people, but that's just an urban legend. When we visited the food factory the animal protein cultures that I saw all tested positive only for rabbit and meal worm."
"You were testing the cultures?" Oma was amused.
"I was curious." Sylvia ducked her head sheepishly. "But the teachers told the kids that it was all plant based. Since the mechfolk don't allow transgenic GMOs, I know that wasn't true." She pushed away the empty apple container and pulled over the other one, her expression thoughtful as she remembered something. "One of the girls was bragging about getting a momp pod supper for her birthday once."
"Momp pod?"
"They're a kind of crustacean, though they're sold as a fruit. The females die after they get to be a certain age, and their bodies fill up with eggs. Once the eggs are big enough the mother's shell explodes and sets them free into the water, where the males fertilize them. The ones the merchants sell have been taken and steamed just before they're ripe."
"...Yuck."
"Well, they're just eggs. But it's not very nice to lie to people. Grandfather said that he was going to look into it when I told him about it. I wonder what he found out."
Oma paused and looked elsewhere for a moment, then nodded and focused on apples again. "He says that the human authorities vehemently denied the deception, and stated that the pods are in fact fruit."
"What? But..." Sylvia blinked with confusion.
"People will do strange things for money, Sylvia," said Oma gently. "At least the subterfuge causes no harm to those who consume the momp pods. They are full of fat, but the price prevents over consumption."
"True, I guess," said the thirteen year old sadly. "And it's good fat, too. Full of omega 3 acids."
Oma chuckled and tilted her head. "Would you like a momp pod for supper one day?"
"Why?" Sylvia looked up. "Duck eggs are just as good, and they cost a lot less."
"Yes. I can see your relation to your grandfather." Oma shook her head and chuckled softly at her adopted granddaughter's failure to get the joke.
Sylvia studied the native woman for a moment, but then shook her head slightly herself and smiled just a little as she realized what had happened. "Oh."
Oma grinned at her and moved on to another subject. "What shall we do after the pie is completed?"
"Let's make something nice for Grandfather to snack on." Sylvia perked a little as she turned her attention back to apple preparation.
"Something sour?" Oma chuckled.
"Noooo." Sylvia blushed, feeling a little embarrassed that her Grandfather had shared that story. "I was thinking of seeing what I could do with blue dye and injection molded plastic."
It was Oma's turn to perk. "Oh. That sounds delicious."
"Yes. And I think Grandfather could use a little more plastic for his systems. Now that you're here to help I'll be able to use the injection molding equipment without Grandfather knowing, so that the result will be a surprise." Sylvia quickly poked another piece of apple peel into her mouth, eyes dancing as she thought of Grandfather's reaction to the surprise treats.
"Have you any glitter? He would never admit it, but he was very fond of it when he was younger." Oma quartered and cored another apple and carefully put the parts in the right containers.
Sylvia laughed softly. "I ordered some special glitter just before I got sick. It's flavoured with copper and a few minerals that were described as 'spicy sweet'."
"Did they name the minerals?" Oma looked up without pausing in her work.
"Yes." Sylvia named them. "They're all ones I recognize and have studied. I think that the mixture won't be too spicy, but just enough to make it interesting. Like the red pepper candies that I tasted once."
"You shouldn't be eating red pepper." Oma frowned.
"I know. It was only a curious taste. Grandfather said that he thought that one piece wouldn't hurt me." Sylvia smiled. "Then he gave me a big piece of vitamin enriched cinnamon milk fudge."
"To combat any potential side effects." Oma laughed and shook her head. "I love that man."
Sylvia blushed, but couldn't make herself say how glad those words made her. Instead she looked into the apple bin and saw that there were only three apples left.
"I want to prepare those. Why don't you go and start getting the crust ready?" asked Oma.
"Alright." Sylvia wiped her hands on the kitchen towel that lay across her lap, then got to her feet and walked over to wash the peeling knife and set it on the rack over the sink. This done, she took a bowl out of one of the lower drawers, and then set it on the molded stone counter along with the measuring devices that she would need. Eggs, spices, and a bottle of high quality protein fortified coconut milk soon joined it, and then she turned her attention to slicing up a loaf of Grandfather's delicious sourdough spelt and rye bread. Setting aside the end crusts for the next meal that Grandfather decided to use them for, she turned and scanned the recipe in the book that Grandmother had set onto the book clamp. "It feels selfish to make this just for myself."
"Would it keep well enough for you to send some to your friends?" Oma looked up from turning on the steamer after filling it with apples.
"Ohhh. Yes. If I post it in a stasis box, it will." Sylvia pinked with excitement at the thought of being able to make two good surprises in one day. "And it might not taste as good as the pies that Esther and Hannah's omas make, but I know they'll like it anyway."
"Why shouldn't it taste as good?" Oma gave her a gentle poke. "Your grandfather says that you're as good a cook as he is."
"I don't think I am. I don't do it as much." Sylvia waved that off, but then grinned as she checked all the steps of the recipe and compared them to what she'd already done. "I think we have time to start the mixture for Grandfather's snack while the apples cook. And that will give the eggs time to drop to room temperature, which makes them easier to mix up."
"Ahhh." Oma's apron was replaced with a heavier model and a pair of goggles. "Ready when you are, kitchen captain."
"Don't be silly, Oma. Grandfather is the captain of this kitchen." Sylvia chuckled as she went to get her own protective gear on.
"Apples." Sylvia paused to examine one little crab apple that had an odd shape to it, then popped it into her mouth and picked up the next one to peel.
"There are ... one hundred and twenty eight recipes for apple pie," reported Oma as she flipped through the pages.
"We don't want one with custard. And... I think one with a crust made from old bread might be the easiest for us this time." Sylvia put the tiny pared and quartered fruit in with its fellows and grabbed the next one.
"That isn't going to damage your cheek?" Oma paused to look at her curiously.
Sylvia blushed and shifted the apple in her mouth, but shook her head. "No. Human cheeks are very flexible."
"Alright. ...If you're sure." Oma flashed her a smile and resumed perusing the book. "Ah. No... Hmm. But this contains cinnamon in the crust. You are fond of cinnamon. Would a crust made from bread dipped into a mixture of eggs, cinnamon, sugar, and milk be acceptable?"
"Maybe," said Sylvia, intrigued. "What does it say to do with the dipped bread?"
"Hmmmm. Fry it on the griddle, and then line the pie plate with it before filling it with the cooked and spiced apple mixture." Oma related the spices recommended for the apple filling.
"Ohhhh." Sylvia hesitated, her eyes going over to her cooking area. "I know how to fry French toast, and this sounds similar."
"And I will assist, if you instruct me." Oma grinned encouragingly, obviously having a great deal of fun so far with their cooking endeavour.
"Well, we need to finish getting the apples ready first." Sylvia looked up and then gave a surprised chuckle. "An apron?"
"She's wearing one." Oma turned the book to show a drawing of a lady in a knee length dress and an apron. "I thought I should put on the proper uniform."
Sylvia laughed softly, absently giving thanks again for this new family member. In the three weeks that Oma had been living with her and Grandfather a whole new world of interesting things had opened to her. True, she now had less time for solitary studying, but at the same time she was learning about other subjects that she would never have thought to study because of their more hands on nature. Like this current project.
"Is there another peeling knife?" Oma peeked into one of the drawers in Sylvia's kitchen storage area.
"Yes. The second from the top drawer on the left hand side has the other one." Sylvia nodded toward it. "It's too big for my hands, but your hands are larger."
"Yes. I need to be a strong and strapping individual, in order to keep up with you, your grandfather, and Zeta Zelda." Oma grinned as she took out the knife and moved her stool closer to the container of apples. "These do have a pleasant scent, don't they?"
"It's my favourite apple scent." Sylvia sniffed at the fruit she'd just picked up, then started to peel it. "I hope the pie will taste good, though they won't be as chunky as the apples in the pies that Esther's Oma makes. These apples turn into sauce really easily."
"Isn't sauce something that you pour over other food to flavour it?" Oma looked up, brows drawn together with confusion.
"Yes. But it's also the common term for apple puree. I think it comes from back when they actually did use it for a sauce for the carcasses of some of the animals that humans used to eat." Sylvia made a face at the thought. "Thankfully now we have better food, and don't have to kill highly developed organisms to get it."
"Are there not budding lives in some of the duck eggs?" asked Oma, intent on making sure that apple peelings went into one container, and cores and seeds into another.
"Yes. But Grandfather sells those to people who want ducks. Only one of our female ducks ever lays fertile eggs, though. The others all make ones that are good to eat." Sylvia paused to nibble apple peel, enjoying the tart taste. Then she frowned slightly. "One of my friends wants to go and live on another world, so that they can grow their food in the ground instead of in hydroponic trays."
"That troubles you?" Oma glanced at her quizzically.
"No. Though I'll miss Hannah and her brothers. It's just the thought of how people on other planets still do kill things for food. It's... a little bit frightening."
"Ah." A hand gently squeezed her shoulder. "I have never understood the desire to kill either. But there may be some who would be frightened by your diet too."
"True." Sylvia set apple quarters in with their fellows. "I know the fact that I eat duck eggs would really make the kids at the local school express some opinions. They think that even cultured animal protein is wrong, and no amount of explaining that some blood types need that kind of food will change the belief."
"Yet surely they eat it." Oma sniffed at a bit of peel and then put it into its place.
"Yes. But... well, have you seen the usual human rations?"
"They are very highly processed."
"Yeah. Nobody really knows what goes into them. The kids at school used to joke that they're made from old people, but that's just an urban legend. When we visited the food factory the animal protein cultures that I saw all tested positive only for rabbit and meal worm."
"You were testing the cultures?" Oma was amused.
"I was curious." Sylvia ducked her head sheepishly. "But the teachers told the kids that it was all plant based. Since the mechfolk don't allow transgenic GMOs, I know that wasn't true." She pushed away the empty apple container and pulled over the other one, her expression thoughtful as she remembered something. "One of the girls was bragging about getting a momp pod supper for her birthday once."
"Momp pod?"
"They're a kind of crustacean, though they're sold as a fruit. The females die after they get to be a certain age, and their bodies fill up with eggs. Once the eggs are big enough the mother's shell explodes and sets them free into the water, where the males fertilize them. The ones the merchants sell have been taken and steamed just before they're ripe."
"...Yuck."
"Well, they're just eggs. But it's not very nice to lie to people. Grandfather said that he was going to look into it when I told him about it. I wonder what he found out."
Oma paused and looked elsewhere for a moment, then nodded and focused on apples again. "He says that the human authorities vehemently denied the deception, and stated that the pods are in fact fruit."
"What? But..." Sylvia blinked with confusion.
"People will do strange things for money, Sylvia," said Oma gently. "At least the subterfuge causes no harm to those who consume the momp pods. They are full of fat, but the price prevents over consumption."
"True, I guess," said the thirteen year old sadly. "And it's good fat, too. Full of omega 3 acids."
Oma chuckled and tilted her head. "Would you like a momp pod for supper one day?"
"Why?" Sylvia looked up. "Duck eggs are just as good, and they cost a lot less."
"Yes. I can see your relation to your grandfather." Oma shook her head and chuckled softly at her adopted granddaughter's failure to get the joke.
Sylvia studied the native woman for a moment, but then shook her head slightly herself and smiled just a little as she realized what had happened. "Oh."
Oma grinned at her and moved on to another subject. "What shall we do after the pie is completed?"
"Let's make something nice for Grandfather to snack on." Sylvia perked a little as she turned her attention back to apple preparation.
"Something sour?" Oma chuckled.
"Noooo." Sylvia blushed, feeling a little embarrassed that her Grandfather had shared that story. "I was thinking of seeing what I could do with blue dye and injection molded plastic."
It was Oma's turn to perk. "Oh. That sounds delicious."
"Yes. And I think Grandfather could use a little more plastic for his systems. Now that you're here to help I'll be able to use the injection molding equipment without Grandfather knowing, so that the result will be a surprise." Sylvia quickly poked another piece of apple peel into her mouth, eyes dancing as she thought of Grandfather's reaction to the surprise treats.
"Have you any glitter? He would never admit it, but he was very fond of it when he was younger." Oma quartered and cored another apple and carefully put the parts in the right containers.
Sylvia laughed softly. "I ordered some special glitter just before I got sick. It's flavoured with copper and a few minerals that were described as 'spicy sweet'."
"Did they name the minerals?" Oma looked up without pausing in her work.
"Yes." Sylvia named them. "They're all ones I recognize and have studied. I think that the mixture won't be too spicy, but just enough to make it interesting. Like the red pepper candies that I tasted once."
"You shouldn't be eating red pepper." Oma frowned.
"I know. It was only a curious taste. Grandfather said that he thought that one piece wouldn't hurt me." Sylvia smiled. "Then he gave me a big piece of vitamin enriched cinnamon milk fudge."
"To combat any potential side effects." Oma laughed and shook her head. "I love that man."
Sylvia blushed, but couldn't make herself say how glad those words made her. Instead she looked into the apple bin and saw that there were only three apples left.
"I want to prepare those. Why don't you go and start getting the crust ready?" asked Oma.
"Alright." Sylvia wiped her hands on the kitchen towel that lay across her lap, then got to her feet and walked over to wash the peeling knife and set it on the rack over the sink. This done, she took a bowl out of one of the lower drawers, and then set it on the molded stone counter along with the measuring devices that she would need. Eggs, spices, and a bottle of high quality protein fortified coconut milk soon joined it, and then she turned her attention to slicing up a loaf of Grandfather's delicious sourdough spelt and rye bread. Setting aside the end crusts for the next meal that Grandfather decided to use them for, she turned and scanned the recipe in the book that Grandmother had set onto the book clamp. "It feels selfish to make this just for myself."
"Would it keep well enough for you to send some to your friends?" Oma looked up from turning on the steamer after filling it with apples.
"Ohhh. Yes. If I post it in a stasis box, it will." Sylvia pinked with excitement at the thought of being able to make two good surprises in one day. "And it might not taste as good as the pies that Esther and Hannah's omas make, but I know they'll like it anyway."
"Why shouldn't it taste as good?" Oma gave her a gentle poke. "Your grandfather says that you're as good a cook as he is."
"I don't think I am. I don't do it as much." Sylvia waved that off, but then grinned as she checked all the steps of the recipe and compared them to what she'd already done. "I think we have time to start the mixture for Grandfather's snack while the apples cook. And that will give the eggs time to drop to room temperature, which makes them easier to mix up."
"Ahhh." Oma's apron was replaced with a heavier model and a pair of goggles. "Ready when you are, kitchen captain."
"Don't be silly, Oma. Grandfather is the captain of this kitchen." Sylvia chuckled as she went to get her own protective gear on.