And they never did that again …
It was a dinner worthy of an Instagram post. Actually, make that several. They'd pulled out the official royal china with its intricate coat of arms and Lance had folded the napkins to look like swans.
But that was nothing compared to how the dishes smelled and tasted. Hunk sat back and let himself bask in his teammates' compliments.
"This meat, it is meat right? It's so tender."
"OMG, you got the spices so right."
"It's quite the consistency, light but with a satisfying crunch."
"More sauce, it's soo good."
"If it weren't for the colors, I'd swear we were eating at a three Michelin star restaurant."
"And, you know the best thing," Hunk couldn't stop himself from crowing a bit – over the past two days, he'd spent nearly 10 hours on this meal. "It's all from scratch."
"From Scratch?" said Coran, "I'm not sure if I'm familiar with that planet."
"It means nothing was premade, like from a packet," said Shiro, reaching for more of the sparkly mashed tubers.
"Right," said Hunk, "the bird creature was the one Keith trapped on that jungle moon, you know, the one that Lance tried to-"
"We remember, Hunk," said Lance. He took a satisfied bite of the orange meat.
"And the vegetables are from the storeroom greenhouse Pidge and Matt set up. The tubers came from that colony we liberated last week. The spices and legumes I picked up at the space mall farmer's market. And, of course, everything dairy came from Kaltenecker, thanks to Lance who does all the milking."
"Squeek, squeak, squeekity-sque-squeek," came a cheer from behind a pile of cheese.
"Remarkable," said Allura, "Hunk, it's just astounding how you're able to combine the organics from so many planets into a single meal." She brought a spoonful of pea soup, actually the right neon green color, up to her nose and inhaled reverently.
"Yep, the only thing I didn't use was castle food goo."
"That's what's missing, that weird metallic-chalky-cherry cola aftertaste," said Lance. The paladins all nodded approvingly.
Across the table, Allura's ears twitched. She moved the spoon away from her face and looked down at her plate a little more skeptically.
"Hunk," she said in that delicate, diplomatic way, "so you mean to say that there isn't any of the castle's synthetic nutrient-carbohydrate sustenance?"
"Yep, not even the cooking spray."
Allura put down the spoon, soup un-slurped. "You are aware," yep this was total diplomacy for dealing with dummies, "that food goo provides our daily supplement of essential nanobots?"
"Nanobots? Like tiny robots?" asked Lance. Now no one was eating, great.
"No," said Coran. He held his fingers about an inch apart. "Tiny," a centimeter, "tiny," a millimeter, "tiny," his fingers were touching, "tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny," Hunk had no idea if Coran was pinching harder, but he was waving his hand in Lance's face like it was important, "tiny robots."
"They're actually more like the bacteria that populate your intestinal track, but they don't replicate. The nanobots are kept in a dormant state in the goo, and only become active when ingested. It's ship protocol to include them with every meal, and every drink."
"And that's why we always bring Nuvil when we go out on diplomatic banquets. Other aliens, of course have their goo equivalents, but Altean goo is the best." Said Coran.
"But what do they do?" asked Pidge.
"Oh," said Allura, "well, they analyze the food you eat, identify any chemicals that are unhealthy, or might cause an immune response, and neutralize them. They will also convert carbohydrates and other nutrients into forms that can be metabolized by your body."
"And they optimize themselves to work in any alien, or mixed alien organism," said Coran, purposely not looking at Keith, "we've ever come across. Except for those dreadful Bet'Clobinans from Araxis Eight, but who would want to have them for dinner, or have dinner with them?"
"Hey," said Pidge turning to her brother, "Do you think that's why your wheat allergy seems to have disappeared?
"I bet you're right," said Matt, "And here I just thought space civilizations were all into paleo diets."
"So, what you're saying is that without goo, we'd be dead from food poisoning," said Keith. Why was it always life and death with him?
"Oh, most certainly," said Coran, "eating is a dangerous endeavor."
"You said," began Shiro, "that they don't reproduce, but they do hang around. For what, a full quintent?"
"More or less," said Coran, "It depends on how regular you are."
Now everyone, Hunk included, was trying to remember the last time they used the space toilet. And no one was complimenting his food.
"Hey, I know," he said, "How about for everyone's dessert I add a dollop of whipped food goo, the blue kind."
"I'll take two dollops, big ones," said Lance.
"Yes, excellent idea," Allura looked more at ease, "That should take care of everything."
"Just so long as you didn't add any spotted, blooming, Verdango fungus to anything," said Coran, "that will jellify your liver in less than a varga without fresh goo."
"It is quite delicious, though," said Allura, "Father's favorite."
"Um by fungus, do you mean mushroom?" Hunk asked, this was totally going to ruin the dinner's ambiance, but so would someone dying of a liver crisis, "And what color spots does that have? Not, err, purple on top?"
"And orange on the stem," said Coran.
"And it sort of sparkles, like it wants you to eat it?" asked Hunk?
There was silence, broken only by Lance dropping his spoon.
"Well, then," said Allura standing up, "what do you say we all take a trip down to medical center and get our stomachs pumped."
They all lived. And Hunk never cooked an all-organic meal again.