(Untitled)

[sunbaked_baker]

It doesn't matter that the pseudo-Scottish winter dawn is obscured by thick layers of cloud; Rae can still feel the moment the sun breaks the horizon. Sunshine's daily run around the lake at dawn won't be deterred by mere weather. However, after her run, she will head back to the kitchens to start the day's baking - it looks like it might snow

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[calledgreenleaf]

One can usually trust Legolas to be curious about -- well, most things, but things baking is definitely one of them.

He opens the door to the kitchens, and peers in. When he catches sight of Rae, he brightens. "Are you the artisan of those lovely smells?"

[sunbaked_baker]

Sunshine looks up from draping a particularly ancient (though beautiful) piece of linen fabric over a large bowl of rising dough. It's an elf, she realizes, unless her vision (and whatever her Dark Sight wants to contribute) deceives her. Like Elrond or Glorfindel, though there are certainly differences.

"Lovely smells and the lovely tastes that go with them," she smiles, answering in the affirmative.

[calledgreenleaf]

"I should hope," Legolas says, though his eyebrows raise in well-practiced despair at the thought as he adds: "it would be cruel to so tempt poor passer-bys, were that not so."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Unfathomably cruel, yes," she grins. "I would indulge in some maniacal laughter, but I am out of practice."

Just like she's utterly and always out of practice in resisting the urge to offer food to people.

"Care for a cinnamon roll? They've just come out of the oven."

[calledgreenleaf]

"I know not cinnamon, nor how one rolls it," Legolas admits, cheerfully, sneaking through the door, "which is a clear sign I should find out more."

Once he's standing inside, he puts his hand to his chest and dips the suggestion of a bow. "Legolas, of the Great Forest."

He's wearing fairly plain clothes compared to Glorfindel or Elrond, a tunic and trousers in a sturdy but well-made green material with some very simple embroidery at the cuff.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Tragedy!" Rae says in mock-despair. Not nearly so practiced as his, but a good effort. "This must be remedied."

"Pleased to meet you, Legolas," she replies, nodding in return as she sets one of the freshly-baked cinnamon rolls on a plate for him, and ices it with the homemade vanilla icing she'd just put together. "I'm Rae - of New Arcadia."

[calledgreenleaf]

"You are," he says, watching the icing with a great deal of curiousity, "the second 'Ray' I have met, here. Do you know the first?" He glances up, curious. To him, Mannish names tend to come from the same family or small town, or perhaps from a historical figure.

[sunbaked_baker]

"I've not met another Rae here, no," she says, setting the plate with its precious cargo on the counter near him, with a fork and napkin, if he is not the type to eat with his hands/lick his fingers.

"Most people call me Sunshine, anyway."

[calledgreenleaf]

Legolas shrugs, and grins. "I'm Greenleaf." He inspects the cinnamon roll for a moment, before cautiously poking the icing and licking it off a finger.

"The syrup," he says, sounding surprised, "is very sweet." And viscous. And kinda weird. Not bad, but... a lot sweeter than he was expecting. (Welcome to Mirkwood, which has access to sugar beets and honey, but not much else.) He tears off a piece of the cinnamon roll, takes a small, polite bite, and brightens.

"It's very good," he tells her. "I've not before encountered the spice."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae laughs. No really. "I'm glad you think it's good." Then admits, grinning, "It's not the sweetest of the things I make, either. That would have to be either Caramel Cataclysms, or Buttermost Limit."

"My friend Pat says that I specialize in foods that have no redeeming social value, just deliciousness, in their various ways. Though that isn't true. I bake non-sweet things too."

And she can cook non-baked vegetarian fare, as well.

"Cinnamon is a wonderful and versatile spice. One of my favorites."

[calledgreenleaf]

"I am fairly certain that deliciousness is a redeeming social value. Or do your people not eat together?"

Hello, more cinnamon roll.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh, we do," she grins. "But we rely on food's nutrition as well as tastiness."

"And many of 'Sunshine's Sugar-Shock Specials' don't really have any nutritional value to match their deliciousness. But I bake more nutritious food, too. They're just not as popular."

Naturally, the numbers of cinnamon rolls and Bitter Chocolate Deaths, and Caramel Cataclysms they sell in a day far outnumbers the loaves of various kinds of bread.

[calledgreenleaf]

Legolas isn't entirely sure why there is suddenly a link between nutritional value and social value. Or why nutritious things are apparently less "tasty".

He shrugs. "The tastes of your people must well differ from those I know; we are ever-fond of new and strange breads." He pauses, crinkling his nose. "Except cram."

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae looks doubtful and skeptical and maybe even slightly weirded out. "Cram?"

Sounds like whoever named it must have hated it.

[calledgreenleaf]

"A waybread," Legolas sighs dramatically, leaning against the counter as he deftly dissects the rest of the cinnamon roll. "It keeps where other things go foul, but it is not a thing to live long on -- dense and hard and dry."

The over dramatics are pretty clearly a joke -- but he's not fond of the thing anyway.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Surely you don't have to give up taste and enjoyability for... well, yeah, shelf-stable recipes tend to have a lot of unsavory stuff in them," she admits.

Most store-bought breads are carthaginian pig-swill compared to what she makes.