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Post by Li Ming on May 28, 2007 17:02:05 GMT -5
Balancing a bulky paper bag against her hip, Li Ming pushed the door to the kitchen open slowly with her free hand. It was rather late, and the large space was empty and dark, with the hanging pots and pans casting odd shadows in the moonlight. She probably shouldn't be in here. As a very new lodger Li Ming didn't exactly know the rules. But what harm would a little cooking cause? After a few hesitant hellos to ensure it was in fact empty, she went inside, set her bag on a nearby counter, and lit a few lamps. Then she started to pull various bowls, pans, and utensils out, probably making a bit too much noise than she realized.
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Post by Dominic on May 28, 2007 17:02:27 GMT -5
Dominic strolled in through the front door in the wee hours of morning, as was his habit. He had perfected the art of not being heard, his footsteps careful, and light as a cat's as he tiptoed quickly across the lobby floor. He was about to take his last step before reaching the stair when a muffled clatter arose. He turned sharply on his heel in the direction of the noise, curiously seeking out its origin.
Into the kitchen he crept. Upon reaching its door, he pushed gently and peered inside. There stood a girl he did not recognize. He wasn't alarmed by it. He could count on a few fingers the people he knew here. Seeing a stranger meant nothing to him. She hadn't noticed him, and he realized he should probably turn around and go back from where he came. But he couldn't help asking, "Um, what are you doing?"
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Post by Li Ming on May 28, 2007 17:02:55 GMT -5
Li Ming jumped and dropped the spoon she was holding. It fell to the ground with a clang, and she turned to acknowledge the boy who had scared the life out of her. "Cooking," she said rather shortly as she bent to retrieve the spoon. "What else do people do in kitchens?" As she wiped off her dirtied utensil Li Ming snuck a glance at the figure standing before her. She was always wary of strangers, and this one was no different. After a moment, she returned to her pots and pans. Things would burn, after all. And she was still hungry.
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Post by Dominic on May 28, 2007 17:03:14 GMT -5
"Cooking....yes, well, any fool knows that. My question, I guess, was more regarding why you got the urge to whip up something at so late an hour....when not many people are awake, much less stirring a pot." He paused for a moment before answering his own question. "I suppose your answer is going to be that you're hungry, right? Don't suppose you're skilled in the art of Eastern European cuisine......" His stomach rumbled quietly at the thought of food. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, and even then, it was just one measly apple. But he'd never outright beg for food.
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Post by Li Ming on May 28, 2007 17:03:32 GMT -5
Li Ming sighed and stopped stirring whatever was sizzling quite temptingly in the pan before her. She paused to lift the lid of a steaming pot to check on its contents, then glanced at the boy. "Chinese, actually. And yes, I know it's late, but I haven't eat all day so..." After a small pause, she gestured at the food before her. "I always make too much. You can have some, if you want...I must warn you, people are afraid of my cooking sometimes." She smiled in spite of herself. Then, seeing his worried expression, quickly clarified. "I mean, they don't recognize it. Not that it's bad. It's good, actually. I'm a wonderful cook." She brushed some renegade hair from her face and, throughly embarrassed by her rambling, refocused on the food.
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Post by Dominic on May 28, 2007 17:03:58 GMT -5
He smiled. Slightly did he allow the right corner of his mouth to be pulled up. "I'm not afraid of your cooking," he told her, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. "I've never had any Chinese cooking, though. No Japanese either. Nothing Asian. I don't know what to expect. Back home, we'd have sour lamb soup, cabbages, rabbit sausage. Porridge. Things like that." He inhaled deeply, letting the scent of the food's aroma fill his nostrils. "Chinese cooking smells nothing like those things. But I'm willing to try."
What he left out was that these days, he was accustomed to gulping down whatever either whatever he could afford or whatever he could find. The cheapest food was often the most dry, the most tasteless, and he would chew it and swallow it down as quickly as he could. Some days he ate nothing. He was starved for anything that would taste good enough to savour.....and he was tired of his stomach feeling empty.
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Post by Li Ming on May 28, 2007 17:04:17 GMT -5
Li Ming made a face. "Sour lamb soup? Doesn't sound so tasy to me..." She puttered around the stove a bit more then stepped around Dominic to pull plates from the cabinet. "Where are you from?" It certainly wasn't anywhere around here. Like her, this boy had an aura of someplace far away about him. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was, but nevertheless, Li Ming could tell. She started heaping foor onto a plate: sweet glazed chicken, brown rice with stir-fried vegetables, steamed dumplings, and fried onion pancakes. She set the plate on the nearby table and gestured for him to sit, then turned to gather utensils and a napkin for him. The old habit of serving someone else before addressing herself was hard to break. Li Ming smiled ever so slightly at Dominic, hovering behind a chair with her hands clasped together before her.
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Post by Dominic on May 28, 2007 17:04:56 GMT -5
CaracalThe town was so entrenched in his memory that he could still smell it. Back in his homeland, where a person was from was everything. Caracal was in his bones and was the wholeness of his being. But, he was certain that the fondness that he held for it was not universal. Too much trouble had he garnered from speaking the name of his town to others. He had to choose his words carefully. He knew nothing about this girl standing before him wide eyed, but he had to expect that she was like all the rest.
So lost in his thoughts was he that he almost didn't hear her invitation to sit down. Jolting back into reality, he smiled sheepishly and murmured a "thank you" as he sat. "I'm not use to having people cook for me and then invite me to sit at their table. This is really....nice of you." He took a bite of what she had put on his plate and rolled it over his tongue. Its taste was warm, sweet, and exotically tangy. He quite liked it. He nodded his approval eagerly and shoveled another forkful into his mouth. "Sit please," he told her, in between bites. "You're making me uncomfortable standing there." As she turned away from him, he added, "Bucharest. And sour lamb soup is very good, if done correctly."
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