Pastry Shop 4: BOOM! Goes The Pastry!
A/N: © Square Enix, except for the handful of redshirts.
Also of note, I’ll admit here and now that the dish presented in this piece is, in fact, a real thing. If it weren’t so hard to come by the main ingredient around here, I’d make it more often.
4: Boom Goes The Pastry!
By: Railenthe
Rating: PG
Genre: Crack, Domestic!AU
Warnings for: Silliness, some language, and a lot of crossover-we still have to provide for some fail!chefs. Graphic descriptions of food. Don’t read this hungry!
Summary: The ‘Puf Pastry is still sans a pastry chef. The application process has been opened up but nothing much in the way of progress has happened yet. Enter the next applicant...
Boom Goes The Pastry!
The next applicant in the process started off with a bad impression. It was nothing that the fellow said, nothing like that-by this point in the process the only thing that Kuja really cared much about was that the person be able to bake and hold their own in the hectic kitchens of the Shoopuf’s Delicacies.
No, the thing that put him off about this particular applicant was that fact that he looked ridiculous. He’d never seen anyone in such a garish outfit-it looked like his outfit was cobbled together from the cast-offs from some big musical’s wardrobe department. Stripes here, spots there, checks in still another place-were those peacock feathers in his hair? And that makeup! Kuja shook his head-obviously, this man had tried to make a good impression by dressing the part of a flamboyant fop. Also obviously, the effort had failed, as the impression given was one of an overdressed cockatiel.
Kuja took three deep breaths before stepping out into the front of the building. He also put his most neutral expression on before asking the newcomer, “Are you here for the position of head pastry chef?”
“Why? Is there anyone else in consideration for the position?”
“That information is on a need to know basis.” He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Do you have what it takes or not?”
“Do I have what it-” He scoffed. “You just watch this!”
*_*_*
As Kuja got himself a cup of coffee-a rich, double-roasted, heavily sweetened concoction that had to be at least fifty percent caffeine-there was a series of explosions from inside the kitchens. These were followed by much shouting and kupo-ing, as well as one screech. His cooking had better be good, because if he’s already crossed Shela... Before Kuja could finish the thought, there was one more fairly impressive boom from the kitchens.
“On second thought...” Kuja reached into a vest pocket and pulled out a purple flip phone, hurriedly punching a few buttons. The phone rang twice before it was answered.
“Yeah, boss?” Rikku answered shortly before a third boom punctuated the greeting.
“What is going on back there?”
“I think this guy took the recommendation that we give the pastries a little ‘pop’ just a bit too seriously.”
“From the sound of things, it would be safer if I evacuated the premises until his dish is done,” Kuja reasoned.
“I think that would be safe. Until he’s done, the rest of us have holed up in one of the steel closets.”
There was one more dull explosion, followed by a shout of “Son of a submariner!”
“Maybe I should move more quickly...”
Kuja flipped his phone shut as he stepped out of the front entrance. He walked quickly out of range before he could hear another explosion.
*_*_*
The size of the dish presented to Kuja for consideration was definitely not consistent with the number of explosions that had rattled his establishment to the very foundation.
That wasn’t to say that it wasn’t an impressive piece of work, however.
Set upon the table before Kuja was a light, airy-looking soufflé. The top was baked to a soft-looking, fluffy dome, and browned gently on top. It rose somewhat above the edges of the ceramic ramekin, and the exposed sides of the soufflé were also a delicate tan.
“Is that-Roquefort?” Kuja inquired with a delicate sniff at the soufflé.
“No, it’s Kefka,” the clownish chef answered.
Kuja resisted the urge to call the man a gibbering idiot. “I mean, the cheese that you’ve used in the soufflé.”
“Hm? Oh, yes. Normally it’s a very pungent cheese, but I’ve cut it slightly with a bit of ricotta and spiced it with herbs de Provence. You’d never believe me if I told you where I got the recipe.” With a fairly flamboyant bow, Kefka produced a fork and handed it to Kuja, who took it with an eyebrow raised.
As the fork cut into the surface of the soufflé, it released a puff of deliciously fragrant steam. The soufflé was warm, the texture deliciously soft, the flavor rich-almost sinfully so. The herb blend was a nonstandard version of herbs de Provence, with a hint of lavender-but somehow, the combination worked exquisitely.
Kuja almost felt guilty about what he had to say to the man.
“Mr. Palazzo...” he began delicately.
“Yeeess?”
“I must admit, what you’ve provided here is the most delicious thing that I’ve tasted from all of the chefs that we’ve had auditioning. It’s light, flavorful, and you’ve obviously got some skill around a delicate dish.”
“...And?” Kefka prompted.
“There’s the small problem of...” Kuja paused, searching for the word. “There’s a small issue of collateral damage.”
“Oh, that.”
“I’m sure you understand, but if your cooking is as explosive as that every day, there’s no way that we can support the position. I don’t mean to be critical, but my kitchen’s dust!”
“Minor sacrifice,” Kefka waved it off.
“Perhaps to you, but I have a business to run. These repairs are going to put me out of a lot of gil.”
“Oh.”
Silence for a beat. Then:
“Is that not a ‘you’re hired’ speech, then?”
“I’m afraid not. So sorry. Maybe if your cooking discipline weren’t quite so...explosive...”
“Oh well: you win some, you lose some...”
As Kefka left, Sidney stepped into the dining area.
“How bad is it, Sid?”
“Do you remember what that old city Vector looked like after it was burned?”
“That bad?”
“Worse, kupo. I’m having the Guild send time mages and medics. You might want to give it a few hours before you show the next applicant in.”
Kuja raked a hand through his hair. No, this day was most certainly NOT going well...not at all.