2nd Floor Common Kitchen: Callynander's Cracked-Out Colonial Thanksgiving

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

Cally and Anders, having had a lazy, adorable morning, rushed off to the NPC Grocers, and stocked up on exactly the sort of things they think are involved with a proper Thanksgiving meal.

They're currently making Turkey Sandwiches. With some ham, too. And they're wondering where the Cranberry Sauce goes.

The yams, the green bean casserole, these things are confusing and more than a little overly complicated to prepare.

And then there's the rolls. At least they've got rolls. Nice, hot buttery *fingerwiggle* rolls.

But we won't even mention the pumpkin pie. A disaster waiting to happen, more like...

So, here they are, in the Second Floor Common Room kitchen area... making a mess of both the kitchen and Thanksgiving tradition.

Good job, city of Fandom. You let the cutest couple ever totally fail at Thanksgiving, cause NO ONE INVITED THEM ANYWHERE.

Comments

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

Anders finally finishes opening both ends of the can of cranberry sauce and pokes the entire freakishly wiggling thing out onto a plate. His eyebrow keeps going up as it . . . just wobbles.

"Okay, this is supposed to go with the turkey, right? But I mean . . . jelly? Should there be peanut butter too?"

He takes a few steps back and just stares at the weird wobbling can-shaped cylinder of cranberry sauce. He then picks it up, sets it on the floor, and does a headstand in front of it, contemplating.

"Do you think peanut butter would go with this? Should I go get it?"

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"I don't remember there being peanut butter involved." Cally scowls at the yams as she talks. She didn't trust the yams. The yams seemed to be the sneakiest of all vegetables. And they weren't cooperating with the recipe she had looked up.

Stupid Yams.

"So, I'm gonna say no. Cause it would just be one more thing complicating our very complicatified Thanksgivaling."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, but . . . this cranberry sauce? Seems more like jelly. And it's supposed to go with the turkey, right? And jelly without peanut butter in sandwiches just seems wrong." Anders gets out of his headstand and picks up the (still wobbling) saucer of cranberry sauce, putting it back on the table. "Three cheers for learning about new and weird holiday customs, huh?"

Staring at it for a moment longer, he finally gives up and wanders over to where Cally's scowling at the yams. "They givin' you trouble, coach?" he asks, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I can beat 'em up for you."

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

Cally laughs. "Yeah, I might need that. But mashed yams might be something completely different, and we'd have to find a new recipe. And don't get me started on the casserole." Cally scowls again. "Stupid Thirteenth Colony."

She leans her head to the side to rest it against Anders'. "But at this point, I'm thinking we just need to figure out how to make it edible."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, somehow you and me cooking is kind of probably not the best idea, huh?" Anders wraps his arms around Cally's waist and hugs her. "Exciting new adventure, though. Maybe this Thanksgiving thing is all about the food because everyone's grateful that the cooking is out of the way."

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, definitely. Holy frak. I never want to see a yam or a green bean ever again."

She pauses for a second.

"Okay, after we eat them. Then, never, ever, ever."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Unless we con somebody else into cooking for us next year, huh?" Anders shrugs and bites Cally's neck gently. "I mean, it could taste really good."

He peers over her shoulder at the cookbook. "What exactly are we doing with these yams, anyway? Supposedly?"

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"See for yourself (http://vegweb.com/recipes/vegetables/4450.shtml). It's, like, ultra complicated. And... weird. And I'm ready to fling these stupid yams out the window."

Cally reaches back and brushes her thumb against Anders' cheek. "Cause my patience has worn thing with the cooking, seriously."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

Anders frowns at the cookbook. "Wow. That's, um, funky. Way more complicated than making sandwiches. But at least the cooking them in the oven part sounds easy enough. I'm just not sure if they're supposed to be, you know, peeled or whatever?"

He hugs Cally again. "Want me to take a shot at it? And you can try working on the casserole thing?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Frak? What's wrong? It's going fine, right? It smells okay... what's wrong?"

Cally looks a little worried, but not panicky... yet.

"I just gotta peel the skins off," replies Anders, staring into the pan of yams like he's afraid they might bite him. "And they're kinda hot."

He goes rummaging around for a fork and a knife, and is relieved to find out that the skins come off pretty easily. It's a messy job, peeling the yams this way, but luckily they have to get all mashed up anyhow, so nobody will notice the gouges and cuts. He puts in some more butter (maybe a touch too much but omg, it's *fingerwiggle* buttery now) and dumps in the oniony stuff from the pan, then mixes it all up.

"Well. I think that's done."

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Good job, champ." Cally then adjusts the temperature on the oven and puts in the casserole, setting the timer properly.

"Though it might get cold by the time the casserole is done..." She rubs her thumb across her lips. "Okay, the timing on this? Totally bad. I think we might as well have some sandwich and yams and then have some casserole when it's done? Oh, and the... sauce thing." Cally eyes the wobbly cylinder suspiciously.

"Maybe."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Sure." Anders nods enthusiastically. "We better make sure not to eat too much just yet, then. Also, I'm asking for a brief cuddle break here, 'cause that was hard work, those yams." He nods seriously, poking his lower lip out and giving Cally the sad puppydog eyes.

He's totally ignoring the freaktastic wobbling cylinder of stuff that's supposed to be cranberry sauce. He has his suspicions about it.

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Well, okay. We gotta let the yams cool a bit, anyway." Cally smiles and wraps her arms around Anders, pulling him into a tight hug. "Cuddle-breaks are totally allowed."

She eyes the cranberry sauce again. It might be evil.

Or possibly a cylon.

Which means she'll have to shoot it.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"I like cuddle-breaks," he replies, kissing the top of Cally's head. "Especially after the incredibly draining experience of cooking. I'm actually kind of relieved I didn't blow up the oven, or anything."

He darts occasional suspicious glances over at the cranberry sauce. It's all . . . red, and kind of glowy when the light hits it right.

It really could be a Cylon.

Which could mean that he'll eventually have to start a crazy suicidal crusade against cranberry sauce.

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Well, can't be too drained. Gotta be able to enjoy the whipped cream later, right?" Cally rubs noses with Anders and then reaches a hand around to pinch his butt.

She also glances at the cranberry sauce. For she wants to name it Sharon, and suspect it of corrupting the Chief, and omggimblesexwtf

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Yup. Yup -- meep." Anders nods in agreement, but the pinch catches him a little bit off guard. He retaliates by doing the same thing to Cally.

He decides to stop looking at the cranberry sauce. Because it might eventually get ideas and possibly develop sentience. And its own religion.

"So how long's the casserole gotta cook for?"

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Erm... whatever I set the timer for. I forgot already. Got my mind caught up in other things." Cally shrugs. "Half an hour, maybe? Thirty-Three minutes? Twenty minutes?"

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

Anders grins and starts *fingerwiggle* buttering a roll for Cally, and then one for himself. "Thanks, coach. I've never even had yams before so I have no idea what they should taste like." He takes another sip of his own ambrosia and starts playing footsie with Cally under the table. "Pretty neat holiday all things considered, huh?"

Cally ups the footsie ante by slipping off her shoes before playing back.

"Yeah, pretty good holiday. Just requires a lot of work, that's all." She takes another sip of ambrosia, and pointedly does not tell Anders she's never had yams before, so his yams are actually both the best and the worst yams she has ever tasted, by default.

"Ooooh, you know what? We should like, invite some folks around this weekend. Have a game of Triad. I haven't played Triad in forever."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Me neither! Not that I'm very good at it. But yes. We should totally do that. I can put up signs and stuff." He nods, gulps down the rest of his ambrosia in one breath, and slips his own shoes off to play footsie some more.

His foot slides all the way up to halfway up the inside of Cally's thigh totally by accident. Really.

Anders finishes off his casserole and serves up a generous second helping for himself, alternating between it and bites of sandwich. He also stops to pour himself another glass of ambrosia, and gulps down half of it.

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

Cally's eyebrows almost leap off her forehead, before she smiles and finishes off her glass of ambrosia and pours herself another.

"I dunno... Triad's kinda complicated. Especially to people who are use to rectangular cards." She shudders a little. "We might wanna, like, get a small group together and teach them the game. That way, if, say, we break out the two bottles of ambrosia I've been hiding in my closet in #213 and it devolves into strip triad, we don't have mass confusion and anarchy."

She chugs down the second glass, having finished her food. She hiccups, and breaks down into giggles.

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Good point," says Anders, hiccuping a little bit himself as he polishes off both of his sandwiches. "Crichton's interested, I know. Don't know who all else." He eyes the half-empty bottle of ambrosia with a slightly dazed smile. "You want any more? And do we have dessert coming up?"

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Oooh, we could invite Logan and Rory. And Bridge. And maybe Sharon." Cally then leans over the table. "And yes, dessert. But I'm thinkin' we skip the pie."

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Well . . . what're we gonna do for dessert, then?" asks Anders, confused, as he pours himself a third glass of ambrosia. He can't resist leaning over the table too, and giving Cally a quick kiss. "Almost outta ambrosia, too." He pouts at the rapidly emptying bottle.

[sogothcally.livejournal.com]

"Well, the chocolate sauce and the whip cream, of course, silly." Cally rolls her eyes. "Do I have to spell this out for you?"

[cantgetnorelief.livejournal.com]

"Oh. OH!" Anders nods furiously and gulps down all the ambrosia in his glass. "Want me to start doin' dishes then?"