Two | Open
2015-Feb-17, Tuesday 02:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
magnetic_magpieThe week of Carnival touches on many memories for Magneto. Not just family history and time spent in Germany before his family had fled, but years in Brazil, too eventful to be called peaceful but at least a time he was happy for periods. And then Lorna had arrived.
At least he'd managed to figure out the replicators enough to get raw materials and in moments alone, both in his quarters and not, he'd managed to make not only a selection of pots and pans, but a small induction cooktop - not much more than a fancy hot plate, but a safe one. And since the replicators kept giving him pantry stables, he'd pulled a metal table (made from seemingly impossibly thin sheeting for the strength) outside his quarter's door into the passageway. And set up his cooktop. And started cooking.
Pancakes on Tuesday. Complete with bowls of butter, jars of syrups and honey, bowls of fruit, some fresh, some he'd cut up and cooked down, a shaker of powdered sugar. It wouldn't be difficult to get him to whip up some heavy cream. Or to get him to make something chocolate instead of normal pancakes.
Berliners on Thursday. Fat, egg-yolk rich balls of dough, fried and filled with a variety of fillings, some glazed, some iced in vanilla or chocolate, some dusted with powdered sugar, some rolled in granulated sugar. There's only half a dozen or so at a time - he's not going to waste the food, but he'll make enough to keep them around. And, as with Tuesday, he'll make something special if asked.
He's antsy and trying to calm down - this helps. More than most would know.
At least he'd managed to figure out the replicators enough to get raw materials and in moments alone, both in his quarters and not, he'd managed to make not only a selection of pots and pans, but a small induction cooktop - not much more than a fancy hot plate, but a safe one. And since the replicators kept giving him pantry stables, he'd pulled a metal table (made from seemingly impossibly thin sheeting for the strength) outside his quarter's door into the passageway. And set up his cooktop. And started cooking.
Pancakes on Tuesday. Complete with bowls of butter, jars of syrups and honey, bowls of fruit, some fresh, some he'd cut up and cooked down, a shaker of powdered sugar. It wouldn't be difficult to get him to whip up some heavy cream. Or to get him to make something chocolate instead of normal pancakes.
Berliners on Thursday. Fat, egg-yolk rich balls of dough, fried and filled with a variety of fillings, some glazed, some iced in vanilla or chocolate, some dusted with powdered sugar, some rolled in granulated sugar. There's only half a dozen or so at a time - he's not going to waste the food, but he'll make enough to keep them around. And, as with Tuesday, he'll make something special if asked.
He's antsy and trying to calm down - this helps. More than most would know.