"Starch," Eliot said, as soon as it looked like they had all the students they were going to get, this week. There was still a large pile of vegetables on the front desk, and diced up waiting for the students at their work stations. There would always be a large pile of vegetables in this class. No one -- in Eliot's culture at least, and he was
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The funny thing was, he did actually know rice to see it. And noodles, even if those ones were different from any he had seen before.
His galaxy was a funny place.
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Hey, she was lucking out in this class so far!
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Don't forget the salt. Yes, Eliot realizes this seems contradictory. But there are types of salt. Amounts of salt. Context matters, dammit!
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Everything else he wasn't sure about, like nori or chicken broth, was at least neatly labelled on the package. And 'broth,' he knew. But what the hell was a chicken? Or a Korean, for that matter?
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Mostly, however, because he was desperate for the distraction, and taking one of the slightly more complex recipes seemed like something that could drag his focus into it and away from the gnawing worry about Atton that was growing every day.
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Looked like she was going to make something with Ramen.
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High schoolers are weird.
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Fortunately, reading all of those recipes saved it for me again. These will supplement my ramen omelette nicely. (College was a dark time.)
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... I'm back in the Ramen Zone for another few weeks, since I don't have another contract until mid-june. This class was very timely.
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