(no subject)
In times of crisis, Marshall Gregson baked.
Make no mistake, Marshall knew a crisis when he saw one. He was intimately familiar with the subtle differences between a slight snag in your day and a full-on nuclear meltdown. Finding yourself on a magic island full of blissfully brainwashed strangers living in a happily socialistic utopia when you didn't remember hopping on a plane or boat or any normal, sane modes of travel, was a crisis of huge, epic proportions. Realizing that, no matter how many times you might've said you wanted to be rid of your family, you'd really rather have been able to hang onto them for a little while longer, was a pretty decent excuse for a breakdown.
Good thing he wasn't dramatic enough to pull a Marilyn Monroe and swallow a handful of pills.
No, in times of great stress, Marshall Gregson put on an apron and chained himself to the oven. The only apron he'd found happily exclaimed KISS THE COOK in bright, splattered letters across the front, but he'd rolled his eyes, tied it on with a sigh and decided to deal with it. He could've gone without, but to be honest, the idea of spilling food on his clean clothes when the mess could've been avoided didn't really sit right with him.
Lucky for everyone involved, Marshall had been hiding away ingredients since before the rain started, and he'd managed to put together an elegant, impeccably prepared meal without much trouble. Spread out on the counters were beautifully plated crab cakes tucked in beds of mixed greens, rice pilaf with mushrooms, and at the moment, he was spooning ladles of corn and lobster chowder into depressingly plain plastic bowls.
In the oven were strawberry and rhubarb tarts that he was especially proud of, ready to be dusted with sugar. All in all, it was a pretty decent meal. He could only hope that it wouldn't be totally wasted on tonight's dinner crowd.
[[I know that we've already got a meal post going, but this is Marshall's first dinner shift, and he's gone all out. Crab cakes with spicy mustard sauce, corn and lobster chowder, rice pilaf and strawberry tarts. Tag Marshall, tag each other, comment on the artful plating or the skinny little gay kid's apron, whatever you'd like.]]
Make no mistake, Marshall knew a crisis when he saw one. He was intimately familiar with the subtle differences between a slight snag in your day and a full-on nuclear meltdown. Finding yourself on a magic island full of blissfully brainwashed strangers living in a happily socialistic utopia when you didn't remember hopping on a plane or boat or any normal, sane modes of travel, was a crisis of huge, epic proportions. Realizing that, no matter how many times you might've said you wanted to be rid of your family, you'd really rather have been able to hang onto them for a little while longer, was a pretty decent excuse for a breakdown.
Good thing he wasn't dramatic enough to pull a Marilyn Monroe and swallow a handful of pills.
No, in times of great stress, Marshall Gregson put on an apron and chained himself to the oven. The only apron he'd found happily exclaimed KISS THE COOK in bright, splattered letters across the front, but he'd rolled his eyes, tied it on with a sigh and decided to deal with it. He could've gone without, but to be honest, the idea of spilling food on his clean clothes when the mess could've been avoided didn't really sit right with him.
Lucky for everyone involved, Marshall had been hiding away ingredients since before the rain started, and he'd managed to put together an elegant, impeccably prepared meal without much trouble. Spread out on the counters were beautifully plated crab cakes tucked in beds of mixed greens, rice pilaf with mushrooms, and at the moment, he was spooning ladles of corn and lobster chowder into depressingly plain plastic bowls.
In the oven were strawberry and rhubarb tarts that he was especially proud of, ready to be dusted with sugar. All in all, it was a pretty decent meal. He could only hope that it wouldn't be totally wasted on tonight's dinner crowd.
[[I know that we've already got a meal post going, but this is Marshall's first dinner shift, and he's gone all out. Crab cakes with spicy mustard sauce, corn and lobster chowder, rice pilaf and strawberry tarts. Tag Marshall, tag each other, comment on the artful plating or the skinny little gay kid's apron, whatever you'd like.]]