comfort food
It was early, and people weren't really awake just yet. Except, of course, for Book and Glen. This was old-people time; that early-morning after the night owls had finally gone to sleep, and before the normal humans actually chose to wake up. They’d headed to the kitchen for the long-promised lesson on cooking. A few early risers shuffled around, mostly heading for the coffee machine and then out again, and they mostly had the kitchen to themselves.
Pancakes were easy enough, and they had enough so that Glen destroying a couple pancakes wouldn’t be the end of the world. They’d already measured out the ingredients, now they just needed to make the batter. "All right, then, mix all the dry stuff together." He glanced at Glen’s skeptical look. "Yes, even the baking powder and salt; there’s not much of them."
Pancakes were easy enough, and they had enough so that Glen destroying a couple pancakes wouldn’t be the end of the world. They’d already measured out the ingredients, now they just needed to make the batter. "All right, then, mix all the dry stuff together." He glanced at Glen’s skeptical look. "Yes, even the baking powder and salt; there’s not much of them."