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[crumbs_and_yums]

Hi! If you're trying to contact me, please leave me a message here. Thanks, I'm looking forward to talking to you when I can!

Ok, I think that one came out fine, finally...let's see, what do I press to save it? Oh, I think it's tha--

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[crumbs_and_yums]

Annette's smile widens even more at the compliment. From Dedue, no less!

"Thank you, Dedue! I was thinking of making this for Felix, since I remember he liked those spicy fish balls we used to have back at the monastery. I didn't hate them, but I never really would've chosen to eat them over other, much tastier things. And while I've never managed to successfully make sweet fish myself, I've had it before, and it's so good. So I thought, best of both worlds!"

She cocks her head thoughtfully, as she continues to poke and prod and flip the sautéing fish. "Quite literally, in this case, since I'm cooking with one world's ingredients while inspired by another world's dish. Hah!"

She should probably leave the fish alone to just cook, but she's always been a bit impatient with how long things need to just sit and cook.

[donoteattheweeds]

Annette lights up at the simple praise, and it's good to see her so pleased even with just a small compliment. She always tries very hard in everything that she does, and it's a commendable thing; Dedue sees no reason to withhold praise when it's due, just as he doesn't hesitate to draw attention to mistakes. To learn, one must know both what's being done that's right and that's wrong.

There's a tiny hint of an uptick at the corners of his lips after her little joke-- a suggestion of a smile. Annette has always been good company. It's good that the five years that they had all been apart hadn't changed her cheerful nature. Or her impatience, apparently, as she's poking that fish so much that you'd think she was trying to wake it up.

"Be careful that you do not overwork the fish."

Thankfully for her patience, or lack thereof, fish is a reasonably quick meat to cook, and it shouldn't take too long to finish up if she doesn't keep fidgeting with it.

[crumbs_and_yums]

Annette looks about to protest, but she sighs instead, giving the bright fish a few last fidgets before letting it be. "Sorry, I just hate sitting and staring and waiting for things to cook. Baking is better because I can just do other things and ignore whatever's in the oven."

She wrinkles her nose at some unpleasant or embarrassing memory. "Well, so long as I don't get carried away by whatever else I'm doing and forget to keep track of the time. Or forget I have something in the oven at all."

She shakes her head and grins at Dedue. "At least I can clean my work area while I wait. That much I can do!"

She asks Dedue about his day, and other pleasant small talk while she cleans up after herself. After a minute, though, a keen culinary nose might detect something burning. Strangely, it doesn't seem to be coming from the fish and peppers, at least not yet. What could have been ironic foreshadowing aside, the oven is off, and the only other thing on the stovetop is a lidded pot in the back.

[donoteattheweeds]

Annette launches into her clean-up, and Dedue nearly offers to help her-- but it's a small clean-up, all things considered, since she is only making food for once person, not the whole monastery. He leaves her to her distraction, though he does step in to put things on high shelves that she cannot reach. One of the benefits to his unusual height-- there are no inaccessible cabinets.

Her chatter is quite amiable, though Dedue's never had much skill with smalltalk. He tries to keep up with her questions as best as he can; even if he doesn't, she'll still fill the silence. She, at least, has never seemed to mind how lackluster he is at conversation. Perhaps it's a side effect of knowing Felix so well, that she has very low expectations for it.

The sharp smell of something burning hits his nose, and Dedue turns his head in the direction it's coming from. It isn't the fish or the peppers, and when he looks at the oven, it isn't on, either. What could be burning?

"Annette, do you have something else on the heat?"

[crumbs_and_yums]

Annette enjoys Dedue's presence, especially in the kitchen. She's never been an especially anxious person, but something about having Dedue in the kitchen is like having a good cloak in the rain, or good armor on the battlefield. It just feels safer, like having an extra layer of insulation against disaster. Surely nothing would dare to explode or curdle in front of him. Not to mention she's grown entirely comfortable with comfortable silence and quiet responses.

"Hm? Oh, just the sauce simmering in the back. I couldn't help making it first, I just wanted to taste it! It's really, really good if you like it sweet, which I do! I kept tasting it, and every few minutes it would get even sweeter and thicker and more delicious! I haven't tasted it since I got busy with the fish though, by now I bet it's simply d--"

She cuts off with a gasp and some coughs as she eagerly lifts the lid on the pot and is promptly wreathed with black, foul smoke, and the distinct smell of burnt sugar.

"No! Nooo, no! Where did all the *hack, cough* liquid go?! It's on low, come on! No no no no, don't do this to me *hack*, it was so good!"

She tries to wave the smoke away with the pot lid, but the thick, clinging stuff is not so easily dispersed. At least there's no fire!

[donoteattheweeds]

When Annette lifts the lid, a plume of smoke wafts out of it, accompanied by the distinct smell of burned sugar. She must have left it on the heat too long and boiled all the water out of it, scorching it to the bottom of the pan; looking over her shoulder confirms this suspicion. It'll be a nightmare to get out, but at least it's just smoke and no actual fire.

"Unfortunately, sugar can burn even on a low flame."

As they have just seen. Welcome to the wonders of evaporation, caramelization, and pyrolysis, Annette. Sugar is a cruel mistress and can go from delight to disaster in the space of an instant.

"Allow me to take this out of your way." He'll just take that pan and put it in the sink, so that it isn't choking Annette with smoke anymore. A little water will dampen things down and the rest of the nightmare that's now fused to the bottom of that pan can be dealt with later.

"If you do not mind fetching a clean pan, and you remember the ingredients that you used, we can recreate your sauce."

So don't worry, Annette, just because you possibly destroyed a pan doesn't mean that your whole dish is ruined.

[crumbs_and_yums]

Annette groans, shoulders slumping in defeat as the water hisses and steams from the charred mess.

"Thanks Dedue..."

When he mentions remaking the sauce, she brightens up a little. "I do have it all written down right here! Can... Can you please help me, Dedue?"

What she shows him is some sort of variation on an apple cider glaze, that was probably never intended to be simmered and reduced for anywhere near so long. Or applied in such large quantities, unless you had a real sweet tooth.

In all the excitement, as she finds a clean pan and gathers the ingredients again, she'd probably let the fish burn too, unless a more capable chef were to rescue it -- and themselves -- from a spicy, smoky doom.

All the while, Annette casts an occasional glance at the ruined pot, alternating between a glare and a gleam, probably already plotting how to clean and rescue it later tonight.

[donoteattheweeds]

"Of course, Annette. I would be glad to help you."

Dedue leans down slightly to look at the recipe that Annette shows to him. He's familiar with how the recipe basically goes-- it's not too terribly complex a variation-- and doesn't need to look very long to know what he'd need to retrieve. When made according to the directions, it would produce a sauce that's sweet without being cloying, intended to be applied judiciously. When boiled down so low and dispensed with a heavier hand, he could only imagine how treacle-sweet it would have become, and while there's merit to the combination of sweet and spicy, there are limits, as well. And apple cider boiled down until it's practically caramel sauce and then doused over spicy fish? That would hit a limit.

And speaking of said questionably spiced fish-- while Annette busies herself with locating a new pan and fresh ingredients, he carefully moves it from the flame and turns off the burner. One smoke incident is enough, they don't want to set off any of the alarms.

They get to work on remaking the sauce, and progress probably goes a little quicker with Dedue's expertise involved this time around. And, of course, the sauce won't be sitting on the stove for fifteen minutes longer than it ought to, so that helps, too. It comes together quite nicely into a mildly sweet liquid that could probably pair well with a spicy fish, if... that spicy fish wasn't so overpoweringly seasoned that everything else was drowned out by capsaicin.

"I believe that will do," he says once the liquid has reduced down. "Perhaps you should taste it and see if it is to your liking?"