Author stuff: So, I got some more requests for fics in last week, and this was one of them. It's super cute, and I had to actually do research for it. What kind of research? Tomato research. I have no idea what raw tomatoes taste like to other people.
See, I have this weird taste thing where tomatoes are too acidic and make me gag. So, I don't eat raw tomatoes. My sister was kind enough to describe the taste to me. Yes, yes, I'm weird. That is universally known.
I'll probably ask for more requests later this month, but I want to finish ForsakenMythr2012 and Beckah's requests first. Keep your eyes on my tumblr page. Or the TLC tags. Either would work.
Requestor: ForsakenMythr2012
Prompt: "little Scarlett with grandmere cooking together"
Toasted Cheese and Tomato Soup
by iOc
"No, no, Scar, put the knife down."
Scarlet Benoit looked back at her grandmother, with wide eyes. Cautiously, she set the knife on the counter, blade pointing toward the wall. She knew better than to protest against her grandmother in the kitchen - it was her domain, after all.
Before coming to live with her, Scarlet lived with her father in the city. There she had eaten lots of delicious foods, with spices and grease, but on the farm she ate the best food one could ever imagine.
When Michelle Benoit made Scarlet her first meal, the girl had eyed it curiously. It was a simple stewed vegetable dish, and it made Scarlet forget all about the city food. She begged her grandmother to teach her to cook and she did.
Even still, after several years, Scarlet was not allowed to use the sharpened knives herself. ("You could get hurt, Scar," her grandmother said, admonishing her the first dozen or so times.) But she was allowed to use the toaster oven, something she was quite pleased with. It still didn't make up for the no knife thing, however.
"Comes and stir the tomato soup," her grandmother said, pulling up a stool for Scarlet to stand on. "There you go. Careful, it's hot."
Scarlet glared down at the swirling red liquid. It wasn't perfectly red, a bit orangey from the roasted peppers that were diced up and tossed in, but it smelled good.
"Grandmere," she said, "what are we making?"
"Toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, my style," her grandmother said, chuckling. "Keep stirring."
"We eat a lot of tomatoes."
"Tomatoes are good for you."
"Says who?" Scarlet wrinkled her nose, looking back at her grandmother who was buttering some bread.
"Says me, and keep stirring."
Scarlet rolled her eyes and stirred. A pregnant silence passed between them. She could hear her grandmother finish buttering the bread, set the knife down, and take out an old iron skillet.
Her grandmother set it on the burner next to her and started up the heat. She dropped a little tab of butter, which sizzled and popped as it melted and seasoned the pan. A moment later, a buttered cheese sandwich was placed in the skillet. It was followed by three more.
Scarlet watched as each one browned and the cheese melted. Her nostrils flared, picking up the smelled of toasted bread, hot cheese, and the tomato soup. Her mouth watered.
Her grandmother scooped up each sandwich and set them on a plate, cutting them into triangles - the cheese oozed out the sides, dripping down the crusts. The soup was spooned into two wide cups made of dipping.
Grabbing the cups and the plate, her grandmother gestured for Scarlet to join her at the kitchen table. The girl followed, sitting down in the old wooden chair next to her grandmother.
She watched as her grandmother took one of the triangles and dipped it into the soup, taking a hearty bite of the sandwich.
"Aren't you hungry?" Michelle said, cocking a brow.
"Yes," Scarlet said, hands balled into fists in her lap.
"Then, eat."
"But there's tomatoes."
"There's nothing wrong with tomatoes. You've eaten them before."
"But they were canned. Canned tomatoes taste the best."
"Have you ever eaten a fresh tomato, Scar?"
"...No."
Her grandmother sighed and got up, fetching a plump, little tomato from the counter. She sliced it up with the knife Scarlet had held not ten minutes ago.
"Here," she said, holding out a healthy slice. "Try it. You'll like it. I promise, Scar."
Scarlet pinched the slice between two fingers. She held it away from her body, wary of the thing. The sharp look from her grandmother told her that she should at least try it.
She took a tiny bite and chewed, not expecting the sweet, acidic taste to burst in her tongue. It wasn't half bad. She took another bite, then another. Before she knew it, she'd eaten the whole tomato her grandmother cut up.
"See," her grandmother said, "not too bad. I told you that you'd like it."
"Can I have another?" Scarlet said, looking hungrily at the vined fruit.
"Eat the toasted cheese and soup, then we'll get you one more."
Scarlet hungrily tore apart the toasted cheese triangles, mopping up the soup with the bread. When the sandwiches were gone, she scooped up the remainder of the soup with her fingers.
Her grandmother chuckled and cutting up another tomato, handing Scarlet each slice.
"Now," Michelle Benoit said, "do you think you'll help me in the garden?"
Author stuff cont'd: To anyone who ever reviews and feel like I'm being very generic when responding, I'm not really trying to be. I get on to my email maybe once a week (despite being hooked up to my phone, I do this when I'm manic and can get things done), and I'm responding to people from all of my fandoms on that day. After about the fifth one, I'm a little zombie. I try to be peppy and nice and sweet, but I don't know if that comes across or not.
So, I'm not trying to be flat or anything. I love hearing from people and seeing that you guys like these fics. Really, I get these butterflies in my belly and I giggle (sometimes cackle maniacally). I'm a dork at heart. I'm not mean, just weird. (What was my point again? Oh, yes.) So, sorry if I come across as not being totally there. It's not any of you, it really is me and it's my fault for not keeping up with the vast amount of emails I get in a day from my other fics.
Just wanted to put that out there.