For jjverse
Title: First Choice Knife (a.k.a., The One Where Spock’s on Top Chef)
Author: prosperity2929
Word Count: ~800
Rating: G
Characters: Spock, current contestants on Top Chef, which can be found here.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words.
A/N: Written for jjverse’s Challenge 7: Write a fic somewhere between 100-200 words crossing over at least one character from a JJ Abrams fandom with one from another fandom. I picked Spock. And Top Chef. Yeah, I dunno either.
A/N2: Based on this season’s ep “Restaurant Wars.” All of Padma’s dialogue is from that episode.
"Good morning, chefs.”
Spock bowed his head briefly in greeting as his fellow seven competitors murmured a response. Padma continued on, introducing the man beside her, but Spock had discovered from past challenges that it would be more useful for him to use this time to survey the room around him, the equipment at hand, the smells in the air. Not to mention that the scene playing out in front of him would no doubt be re-filmed at least twice, as Padma would inevitably stumble over a word or someone would decide the lighting needed to be changed.
When Spock left Vulcan years ago to pursue his lifelong aspiration to become a chef, he never would have imagined himself being on an Earth-based cooking contest television program. And on cable, at that, Spock thought morosely. However, after completing training with the Culinary Institute and rising through the ranks at various well-respected establishments, he began to realize that the only way to reach his goal would be to start his own restaurant. This required money. And so, here he was, dressed in a logoed chef coat, standing before a camera with seven strangers, holding his knife set. He halted his reflecting as Padma at last began to speak on something of obvious importance.
"A top chef can only go so far on his or her individual talents. So, for this Quickfire Challenge we’re testing your teamwork, in the first-ever Top Chef tag team cook-off.”
Immediately, Spock began process the meaning of these words. "Tag-team.” The only reference to this term he could recollect involved wrestling others, dressed in spandex. Surely this was not…?
"To determine your teams, please draw knives.”
Still unsure of the meaning of this decidedly un-Vulcan term, Spock watched as others drew knives from the butcher’s block, all of them void of any writing. As his turn arrived, he approached and drew his knife hesitantly.
"First choice," he announced, turning his knife towards the camera as they had been instructed to do. In his peripheral vision he could see the other chefs exchanging glances and he knew they were, as he was, trying to determine whether this was good or bad.
Spock had found in his years residing on Earth, that rarely was being declared "first” a bad thing. This had been proven most clearly during the “Black Friday” shopping journey last year that Nyota had insisted he accompany her on. He mentally blocked those painful memories of witnessing belligerent women disagreeing over who had grabbed a scarf first and of being Nyota’s “line holder” and focused on the fact that the odds were most likely in his favor for this resulting in a positive outcome. Sarek would no doubt be proud of the way he hid the smugness from his face.
Sure enough, Padma announced that Spock, having picked the sacred "first choice" knife, would select first in picking members of his team. He quickly calculated which of his competitors he felt would be most suited for a team challenge. He also took into account the possibility of wrestling being involved and thus logically decided on his first selection.
"Kevin.” he called out. This Human was skilled in all culinary aspects in addition to, Spock had reasoned, being of a size that could most likely squash his fellow chefs if necessary.
The selection continued and Spock was most pleased with his choices. In addition to Kevin, he had attained Mike, quick with a knife if a bit uncreative at times, and Laurine, a slow but a talented sauce and broth maker. And of the utmost importance, Spock had avoided being saddled with the addle-brained Robin, whose skills, in Spock’s opinion, left much to be desired. Also, he believed she would be most easy to tackle and disable, making her useless on both fronts.
Then began another of Padma’s long-winded explanations. This time, however, Spock paid close attention, knowing she would most likely include an explanation as to the meaning of "tag team." If wrestling was indeed involved, he would need to inquire if nerve pinches were acceptable.
"Each team will make one dish in forty minutes. The first chef in line will start the dish and cook for ten minutes. After ten minutes, the next chef on your team will take over, until all four chefs will cook for forty minutes total. You can’t speak to each other. At all. And until you cook, all of you will be wearing this!”
With the brandishing of a blindfold, Spock fought his Human-half’s urge to audibly sigh. The things he was willing to endure to reach his goal. The chefs around him laughed and groaned in shock and dismay. Spock stood patiently among them, hands clasped behind his back, and waited silently for further instruction, thankful, if perhaps a bit disappointed, that there was no need to inquire about nerve pinches.
Author: prosperity2929
Word Count: ~800
Rating: G
Characters: Spock, current contestants on Top Chef, which can be found here.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words.
A/N: Written for jjverse’s Challenge 7: Write a fic somewhere between 100-200 words crossing over at least one character from a JJ Abrams fandom with one from another fandom. I picked Spock. And Top Chef. Yeah, I dunno either.
A/N2: Based on this season’s ep “Restaurant Wars.” All of Padma’s dialogue is from that episode.
"Good morning, chefs.”
Spock bowed his head briefly in greeting as his fellow seven competitors murmured a response. Padma continued on, introducing the man beside her, but Spock had discovered from past challenges that it would be more useful for him to use this time to survey the room around him, the equipment at hand, the smells in the air. Not to mention that the scene playing out in front of him would no doubt be re-filmed at least twice, as Padma would inevitably stumble over a word or someone would decide the lighting needed to be changed.
When Spock left Vulcan years ago to pursue his lifelong aspiration to become a chef, he never would have imagined himself being on an Earth-based cooking contest television program. And on cable, at that, Spock thought morosely. However, after completing training with the Culinary Institute and rising through the ranks at various well-respected establishments, he began to realize that the only way to reach his goal would be to start his own restaurant. This required money. And so, here he was, dressed in a logoed chef coat, standing before a camera with seven strangers, holding his knife set. He halted his reflecting as Padma at last began to speak on something of obvious importance.
"A top chef can only go so far on his or her individual talents. So, for this Quickfire Challenge we’re testing your teamwork, in the first-ever Top Chef tag team cook-off.”
Immediately, Spock began process the meaning of these words. "Tag-team.” The only reference to this term he could recollect involved wrestling others, dressed in spandex. Surely this was not…?
"To determine your teams, please draw knives.”
Still unsure of the meaning of this decidedly un-Vulcan term, Spock watched as others drew knives from the butcher’s block, all of them void of any writing. As his turn arrived, he approached and drew his knife hesitantly.
"First choice," he announced, turning his knife towards the camera as they had been instructed to do. In his peripheral vision he could see the other chefs exchanging glances and he knew they were, as he was, trying to determine whether this was good or bad.
Spock had found in his years residing on Earth, that rarely was being declared "first” a bad thing. This had been proven most clearly during the “Black Friday” shopping journey last year that Nyota had insisted he accompany her on. He mentally blocked those painful memories of witnessing belligerent women disagreeing over who had grabbed a scarf first and of being Nyota’s “line holder” and focused on the fact that the odds were most likely in his favor for this resulting in a positive outcome. Sarek would no doubt be proud of the way he hid the smugness from his face.
Sure enough, Padma announced that Spock, having picked the sacred "first choice" knife, would select first in picking members of his team. He quickly calculated which of his competitors he felt would be most suited for a team challenge. He also took into account the possibility of wrestling being involved and thus logically decided on his first selection.
"Kevin.” he called out. This Human was skilled in all culinary aspects in addition to, Spock had reasoned, being of a size that could most likely squash his fellow chefs if necessary.
The selection continued and Spock was most pleased with his choices. In addition to Kevin, he had attained Mike, quick with a knife if a bit uncreative at times, and Laurine, a slow but a talented sauce and broth maker. And of the utmost importance, Spock had avoided being saddled with the addle-brained Robin, whose skills, in Spock’s opinion, left much to be desired. Also, he believed she would be most easy to tackle and disable, making her useless on both fronts.
Then began another of Padma’s long-winded explanations. This time, however, Spock paid close attention, knowing she would most likely include an explanation as to the meaning of "tag team." If wrestling was indeed involved, he would need to inquire if nerve pinches were acceptable.
"Each team will make one dish in forty minutes. The first chef in line will start the dish and cook for ten minutes. After ten minutes, the next chef on your team will take over, until all four chefs will cook for forty minutes total. You can’t speak to each other. At all. And until you cook, all of you will be wearing this!”
With the brandishing of a blindfold, Spock fought his Human-half’s urge to audibly sigh. The things he was willing to endure to reach his goal. The chefs around him laughed and groaned in shock and dismay. Spock stood patiently among them, hands clasped behind his back, and waited silently for further instruction, thankful, if perhaps a bit disappointed, that there was no need to inquire about nerve pinches.