For Health!

The kitchen is large and well-stocked with technology as well as those with culinary skill. State of the art equipment has been brought in from the various crafts to be used - stoves and large ovens replacing the hearths that used to be in here. Three baking ovens are usually going full bore half the day, from early morning through to mid-afternoon. Large windows take up the entire of the western wall, generally open wide to the mountainous landscape beyond allowing the cool breezes in to keep the kitchen's temperature to a desirable level.
Tables, cabinets, and counters take up the remaining spaces and walls. Various spices, herbs, and other foodstuffs are found here, and what's not ready at hand is tucked away back in the storage caverns or the massive cold-room large enough to walk inside.
The night hearth beside the door to the main caverns has been kept out of a sense of nostalgia, but the smaller stove set beside it is what's actually used to prepare late-night food. This is where you find late night meals of stew and soup simmering in pots, and pitchers of klah and tea in their electric units to be kept warm.

Dinnertime's winding down, finally, drawing to a close on frigid day. It's not snowing, but it sure is cold outside, and anybody with any sense is not. That might be at least part of the reason that Citayla is pacing in the kitchen, wearing what might seem like entirely too many layers for the too-warm room. The Junior looks maybe a little bit harried, maybe a little bit on the wild-eyed side. Maybe. Don't worry about it. She's got bakers giving her the side-eye as she waits on Faranth-knows-what, hands shoved deep in her pockets in spite of the fact that she has to be too hot in that coat. "It'll be done soon." One of the younger members of the staff reassures the goldrider, pausing in her trek to the oven with an arm full of giant roast. The others seem to be busy figuring out the end-point for all of the leftovers from dinner; not that there are too many, with a Weyr full of hungry people!

Rhodelia really has not good reason to be in the kitchens at this point. Even with dinner time winding down, there's still enough food left out there for people in here to be trying to sort it out. There may be half a dozen less than stellar reasons though. The bartender-turned assistant has found an empty platter somewhere and waltzes in pretending like she just belongs, at least until she gets to the part of the ovens where Citayla is not so patiently waiting. "Is it cheesecake? I heard there would be cheesecake." And she may have been trying to snag an early slice of said cheesecake.

By the time Rhody ambles her way on in, Citayla's maybe calmed down a little — perhaps reminded of her manners by the severe look one of the older bakers is giving her. Maybe. Tiny bit. She's still swaying from foot to foot like she's gotta pee, though, goofy wiggle and all. On first glance, the goldrider doesn't even seem to register that Rhodelia's not technically, probably, supposed to be here. It takes fully three sweeps of the room, and the assistant's approach, for Cita to take in her presence with slightly widened eyes and a grimace that might be an attempt at a sheepish grin. "You know, I did see them put one in. Do they cook that fast? It was…" The healer ventures, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Nope, the passage of time escapes her. Her momma didn't raise a snitch, so Cita's not about to point out that Rhody isn't supposed to be here, but she does manage another ghost of a smile, and a teasing look for her. "Kind of you to bring the platter back for them."

That news that a cheesecake has only just (some unspecified time ago) gotten into the ovens is met with a rather dramatic sigh from Rhodelia as she turns some wide canine-eyes towards the ovens as if a begging look can convince physics to heat things faster. "I don't think I've ever had hot cheesecake." So sad. Not like there aren't probably other desserts in the works. The mention of the platter gets half a grin from her as she spins it in her hands. "Yeah… figured it was my civic duty or something. Help out when I can." And that's about the extent of helping. Now the platter is hastily discarded on the closest workstation in what probably wasn't a dirty dish station. That will be a not so pleasant surprise for whatever baker comes in first thing tomorrow.

Perhaps they'd put others in before I arrived?" Cita reasons, maybe a sucker for those puppy-dog eyes — yeah, probably. "I can't pick out the smell above the others." The goldrider makes her own mournful face, shuffling a little and sneaking a glance towards the bakers. Nothin'. Contemplating warm cheesecake is an easy distraction: Citayla's eyes glaze over a little, and she hums, nodding dreamily. "It's better warm." Beat, sotto voice: "Worth seeing if you can evade notice for a bit, I'd say." Cita follows the setting-down of the platter with something like amusement, eyebrows quirking up, raccoon-ringed eyes bright. "Uh-huh. I'm certain they appreciate the effort." Is she watching Even More Harried Than Cita Baker out of the side of her eyes, wary? Yeah, absolutely she is.

Rhodelia isn't new to this whole putting things where they don't belong business. Nope. She takes one of those kitchen towels that had just been laying around and carefully drapes it over the platter. Out of sight, out of mind? With that done, she'll just creep a little closer towards the oven and giving her best sniff, with not much better luck. "Was my ma holding out on me???" Rhodelia sounds betrayed that she didn't know about this secret of warm cheesecake. "She said the waiting made it taste better."

Citayla should absolutely do something about that. She's a Weyrwoman, right? She doesn't. Definitely not. Nope, she minds her own business, thank you, pointedly squinting at the ceiling and shuffling a little from foot to foot. "I'm afraid so." The healer admits, mournful, glancing sideways at Rhodelia and shaking her head. "Maybe she didn't know. Not everybody's brave enough —" Read: impatient and/or maybe a little foolish. "to try it right out of the oven." Cita tuts under her breath. "The waiting does make it burn less, though. Admittedly. But our passions are worth it, mm?" Cue a somewhat sardonic kind of grin, flashed quickly sideways.
Shhhh… what's one little platter out of place? The Weyr probably has dozens. Maybe a couple hundred? Rhodelia doesn't seem to think it's a big deal (although if it were something important she probably wouldn't be cutting those corners. Probably). Rhody tilts her head to the side as she considers those cheesecake-secrets Citayla is imparting. "But my ma's a baker…." Anyways, she just shakes her head and shrugs it off. "So if you weren't waiting for cheesecake, what were you waiting for?"

See? It's totally fine. Don't even worry. "A baker, huh?" Cita makes a rueful kind of face. "I'm afraid I'm the bane of bakers everywhere. I blew up an oven, once. Maybe my opinions on baking aren't…the most sound." She admits, pauses a beat, then: "But I'm right about the cheesecake." She nods, Very Serious, squinting at the ovens. "Especially if they've got berry sauce. Shells, now you've got me craving cheesecake." Citayla looks amused for that, though, leaning against a counter. The goldrider's quiet a moment, eyes flicking towards the exit. "Asked them to make something special for a Weyrmate." She admits, hesitant. "Healer's orders. If I tried to make it, it would be. Dangerous." Sheepish grin.

Eyes narrow and mouth opens as Rhodelia tries to ponder just how one might blow up and oven, but much like dismissing of parental betrayal, she just shakes it off and doesn't dig further in that mystery. "Berry's a fruit. And dairy is supposed to be good for your bones. So it's almost like cheesecake could be considered a healthy dessert." If you squint real hard and turn around real fast and pretend the person she's trying to convince of healthiness isn't in fact a healer. As for the answer to her own question, she blinks towards the oven. "I'm sure it'll be ready any minute. They wouldn't want to go against healer's orders, right?"

Citayla is more than happy to dismiss her own terrible kitchen habits, bless — she actually considers the merits of Rhody's theory, amused. "Hmmm." The goldrider considers, tapping a foot, lips pursing. "Calcium, vitamins, minerals…you might be onto something, there." She hums, eyes alight. "Healthy fats to keep the body warm in this awful cold? Smart! I'll have to bring that up, next meeting with the Head Baker." Cita grins. "Got to keep the people in good health, hm? Cheesecake for Weyr Health." Some healer she is. Look: Cita looks like she's slept not nearly enough, and she's no nutritionist besides, this seems totally fine. "Of course! I'm afraid I've been too impatient with them."

Dismissing bad habits is something Rhodelia is a-okay with! And she'll nod along enthusiastically as this whole healthy cheesecake theory, kind of like a pernese bobble-head. "I'm sure you'll have all the children on your side as you quest to get Cheesecake for Weyr Health. And half of the parents." Much better than some of those crazy herbal concoctions. And out of the corner of her eye, she catches sight of a baker bringing something out of the oven. "Ooooh, is that the cheesecake?" Or whatever else it was that were those healer's orders.

Cita bares teeth in a grin, just a little too wild-eyed to be entirely reasonable. Cheesecake is a SERIOUS SUBJECT, though. It is! "The best allies!" She laughs, once, sharp. "And who's to say there can't be vegetables involved. Surely there are squashes that would suit…" Aw, now she's ruining it. Citayla doesn't seem to notice that, because yes, that's her! It's not a cheesecake, and it's — you know, it's possible that that pastry has something of an inappropriate shape to it. It smells a little strange, whatever it is, but the Junior sweeps in immediately, having produced a picnic basket from Faranth-knows-where to cram the thing in. "Thank you, Tenni." She smiles, politely, turns to glance at Rhody, thoughtful a second. "Tenni, Rhodelia here's waiting for some cheesecake for me. Will you make sure she's not chased off?" Even with those raccoon eyes, she still manages a pretty decent Butter Wouldn't Melt face before she turns, winking not-subtly at the assistant. "Don't let them run you over, now, Rhodelia." The healer orders, nodding once before turning and all but sprinting out of the kitchen.

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License