π°πππππππππππ 2021_Day 01 [Treat]
~Elements of Ratatouille (Disney, 2007)~
Category: Humor, Friendship, Cooking Showdown.
π―ππ πππ: πΏππππ
Sophie stretched out, satisfied after getting off her rental car. It had been a long ride (in European standards) from Chicago, but when the locals had mentioned that the city wasn't too far from "the most haunted town in USA", the French woman (in her sabbatical-year-road-trip across North America) hadn't thought twice about making a stop in Amity Park. She was extremely passionate about urban legends and scary stories, so she had to at least check if its fame was well-founded.
(Besides, one of the reasons she had "fled" from France, Paris more precisely, for the vacation was to escape her uncle's brooding, borderline grieving, mood.)
Her first impression of the city was⦠There had been quite a lot of arson.
Sooth stains were scattered on surfaces of buildings and walkways, where there also were holes, as if a huge mallet or a wrecking ball had fallen. Those areas were delimited by stakes and construction tape, to signal the imminent reconstruction⦠however, no worker was in sight.
Maybe the municipal funds were too low to pay for the repairs?
Sophie wanted to ask, but it seemed rude to stop a random passerby just for thatβ¦
Perhaps she could joke about it while she was in a restaurant for lunch?
First thing first! She had to find the Pro Loco to see if there were tours for the town. After all, those scary stories didn't spawn by themsel-β¦
That train of thoughts derailed quickly, as suddenly a great commotion rose from what looked the local mall, prompting the woman to go and take a look (after locking the car, that is).
A few people were running from the shopping centre, but others (probably locals, given the almost bored expression) either went calmly back to their cars with the shopping bags or curiously peered through the open glass doors.
Intrigued, Sophie stopped near a teen at high-school-age and imitated him: inside, on the sidelines of the mall plaza, an elderly woman wearing an old-style lunch lady outfit was floating, all greenish light and echoing/static voice, and she was loudly quarreling with a man in white shirt and dress pants. Maybe he was a manager. β¦Role notwithstanding, the man seemed to stand his ground, despite his foe's appearance.
β Hey Micky. β A voice whispered from the teen's side. Sophie looked with the side of her eyes as another teenager reached the curly redhead beside her. β What has the Lunch Lady's apron in a twist this time?
β Since "Fred's" changed owner, they wanted to add new choices on the menu and take off a couple of dishes that nobody ordered. You know how the granny is with menu changesβ¦ β "Micky" grimaced along with his friend.
β Well, at least this manager is no wuss. Probably he can keep her busy until Phantom shows up. β The other teen muttered.
Lo and behold, before Sophie could interject in their conversation and ask a few things, from the other side of the court another apparition that looked like a teen from the 80's, given his stylistic choices, showed up. This seemed to cheer up the people around the French woman, so she quickly assumed that the newcomer was this Phantom-guy who could solve the situation.
The monochrome boy didn't come near the quarreling duo immediately, though, he stopped a few meters from them and appeared to listen in their argument. Maybe he wanted to understand the situation before intervening? After all, up until now there had been no violence involvedβ¦
More importantly: what was the green cone that seemed to vibrate in agitation/distress on the top of the white locks on Phantom's head?
After a particularly nasty comment from the Lunch Lady on the dietary needs of a human body, the green cone seemed to finally flip off and Phantom unexpectedly (even for himself) flew forward right beside the duo, who jumped in surprise. The teenager righted himself after the stumble (how he could have stumbled, he had been flying, for crying it loud!) and pointed an index to the granny.
β Lunch lady, my friend here challenges you to a cooking duel! β The boy declared with as much gusto as a sport announcer. β He said and I quote: "You're disrespecting food and everything my mentor stood for!" unquote.
β Oh? And how someone as unsanitary as that minuscule ectoplasm residue you are could even know about cooking? β The Lunch Lady demanded with a sickly sweet tone.
β "It's cuisine, you third-grade fast-food novice!" β The teen rebutted, then added β That's his reply, by the way.
β "Third grade"β¦! β Her voice rose to a pitch so high that glass vibrated, but thankfully didn't break. β Very well. We'll see about that. β The tone went back to pleasant. β Your challenge, your rules. Which are?
Phantom paused, tilting his head back to listen better to the green cone.
β Okay. Three-course meal. Only local products with no ectoplasm involved, beside the inevitable traces left by the cooks. A human judges the result in a blind test taste. The one who out of the three has the most chosen dishes, wins. β The boy counted on his fingers. β You can have a helper, since I'll be the "arms" of your contender. No sabotages on both sides. The loser will have no say on the competence of the winner and the menus of this town.
The ghost granny was looking greener by the minute, as if ready to go berserkβ¦ but in an instant she calmed down. β On two conditions: first, the products have to be collected in a hour and the preparation and cooking of the meals to be done in three.
β Four. He says that sweets need time to be baked to perfection. β Phantom haggled. The other specter mulled about it and nodded.
β So be it. The second condition is the following: the judge must not be from Amity. They have to be unbiased, after all, even if the taste test is blind. β She grinned. That seemed to take aback Phantom and his green cone, because they looked at one another in panic.
Did that mean that the town didn't get many tourists?
Well, no matter, free food here I come! β I volunteer as tribute!ΒΉ* β Sophie cheerly stepped beyond the doorstep, startling the ghosts, the manager and the bystanders. β I'm from France and my uncle is a food critique, does it make me pass? β She fished out her ID and showed it to the manager.
The teen whispered a "thanks Clockwork" under his breath, while the Lunch Lady seemed a step away from a heart-attack (if she hadn't been already dead). The manager was extremely pleased and⦠what Sophie had thought was a green cone was in fact a ghost-rat. It (he?) looked cute, pity it was dead.
β It looks all in order. Our kitchens are big enough to canter the both of you at the same time, since we just renovated the spaces. The only matter is how you will legitimately gather the products. β The manager pursued his lips.
Well, yeah, dead people didn't own moneyβ¦
β I'll go and ask the mayor. It's a matter of public safety, after all. Be back in a flash! β Phantom declared, before zooming out of the mall.
β Can we really ask the mayor? The pavement outside is still broken, I don't think the town has enough funds for a cooking contestβ¦ β Sophie took advance of the opening to ask the question she had from before and retrieve her ID.
β Ah, it's not as much for the funds, as it is for how many road-workers are already busy. β The man revealed. β The craters outside are only a day old, in three days time the "Robert&Sons" will be here to reconstruct the damages. They're good in adhering to the schedule. Besides, Phantom is using all the royalties from his merchandize for town reparations, so we're not worried to end up run dry. And if even that flops, mayor Masters can spare a few coins for this, above all if they come from his pocket. He's a millionaire, after all. β The manager shrugged.
A minute later, the teen came back with two credit cards in one hand and a bunch of go-pro cameras levitating over the other.
β What are those for? β The Lunch Lady frowned.
β Vlad wants us to record the duel. This way this will be "more official and regulated", he said. β He fixed one on his chest, gave the others to the manager, sans one which was given to his opponent. β It's a bit annoying, but he has a point. But don't worry, I checked them, they are safe. β He added when the ghost woman had looked distrustfully at the equipment.
β Very well. β She sighed and attached the camera as well.
β Can you stay here, Miss Ego? I'll have to go and record the hour at the market. β The manager asked Sophie, as the teen and the rat began conspiring together.
β The taste test is in 5 hours and I'd like to sightseeing the townβ¦ I'll leave you my number? β They bargained a bit after that, but at last they agreed for her to come back in 4 hours, just to be safe and do a bit of an interview for posterity.
In that free period, the woman visited the major historical places of the town and at the same time she messaged her uncle to ask for tips in judging food. That seemed to revitalize the grieving man and he regaled her several anecdotes, becoming progressively more "lively" (for his usual standards anyway).
In the meanwhile, news of the duel had spread like wildfire, and people (and ghosts) had gathered at the mall by the time Sophie was back. Including the newscaster, whose troupe was filming the general area, and an odd looking RV parked outside.
The French woman was greeted enthusiastically by the owner (the titular Fred, apparently) and the waiters made her sit at the best spot where reactions and dishes could be recorded better.
Between relaxed and casual conversation, the fourth hour ended quickly and after the end-bell had rang, the food was scanned to determinate if they were safe for human consumption.
After receiving the okay, two waiters appeared from the kitchens and deposited two cloches-covered dishes on the table before Sophie.
The waiters lifted the covers at the same time ad revealed the appetizers.
The one on the left looked gorgeous, like it had been made by a professional chef, while the other looked⦠flat.
Sure the canapés seemed coming from a catering event, but in comparison to the roasted, caramelized pumpkins, other vegetables and pork arranged as an impressionistic painting depicting a ghost⦠well, the former weren't as impressive.
Thus, Sophie started with the canapΓ©s. Good, traditional, among the best she had tasted in official events, but overall forgettable.
The impressionist dish on the other hand⦠consistencies and flavors exploded in her mouth, making the woman almost melt. Yes, her uncle knew his job: there was no way she could appreciate "bland" food like she had done previously.
β So Miss Ego? Which dish was the best one? β The owner asked.
β I hope you'll pay the creator of this dish a ton for the receipt if you ever decide to add it to your menu, because the specter-appetizer is something to die for. β She gestured to the empty plate next to the canapΓ©s still half-full one.
That statement seemed to startle few laughs from the audience, probably because of the pun, but it elicited a grin on her patron. β Don't worry Miss, I'll work on it. Now! To the Main Course!
Two new cloches exited the kitchens and were deposited before her. This time, once uncovered, an odd scene played before her: a sort of déjà -vu, perhaps. On the right a pumpkin risotto made a picturesque scene, along with its fragrant scent, but on the left⦠she knew that dish.
Sophie distractedly ate two spoonfuls of risotto, it was good, yes, but the other dish was still captivating her attention⦠So she reached for it.
With a slightly trembling fork, she picked up some vegetable slices, scooped up some sauce and bit into them.
Howβ¦!
The only chefs capable of this were back in Paris! No one had been able to replicate it this well, how was it possible?!
Wordlessly, Sophie finished the main course and with a forced smile that was covering her turmoil of emotions, she pointed to the plate on the left. β It was really good.
β Last, but not least: the dessert! β The owner clapped his hands and the last entrΓ©e was deposited on the table and revealed to the eager public.
The one on the right was a perfect slice of apple pie, completed with a delicious looking ball of ice-cream on the side.
On the left⦠There was a soufflé contained by a tiny (fist-sized) pumpkin, decorated with chocolate, blueberries and sauces to resemble a vortex of souls that gravitated around the dessert, which had been decked with a chocolate ganache to resemble an Halloween pumpkin.
One of the chef had a sense of humor after all.
Sophie tried the apple pie first: very good, very American and with a rich flavor.
Then, it was the turn of the soufflΓ©: the goo-ish inside blended perfectly with the garnishes and it was perfectly cooked. Well, there was no match, really.
β Before the final response, let's meet the chefs! Miss Lunch Lady, Mr. Phantom, if you pleaseβ¦ β Fred called and the three ghosts phased through the kitchen door, with the teenager holding the rat on his outstretched cupped palms.
β Mr. Fred, please. I was merely the steed this time, my friend Remy here did all the work. β The white haired teen presented the rodent, who bowed respectfully. The man seemed to be taken aback for less than a second, but (since he was probably from Amity himself) he kept on like there was nothing wrong.
β Miss Ego, β did the rat perk up? β could you please state your choices and the reasons behind each one?
β I hope you took a picture of the Specter-Appetizer, because it was gorgeous! And there were so many flavors and consistencies so perfectly blended together that I could eat it for the rest of my life without complain! β Sophie grinned. β The canapΓ©s were good, even professional, but they lacked creativity. So, the first dish. Who made it? β The woman had suspicions, but better keep up the appearances.
β Remy did everything, I just suggested the presentation. It seemed in theme with our town. β Phantom admitted, a bit sheepish.
β And also in theme with the chefs themselves! My uncle told me that usually attempts like this could be a risk, if the judge considers childish , but the impressionistic imprint you gave it, made the whole ensemble impressive, so kudos for you! β She added, making the teen and rat nod in understanding.
β Now the Main Course! β The owner announced.
β The pumpkin risotto was worth an one-star Michelin restaurant, adding the bacon dice as topping diluted the sweetness of the pumpkin made the whole ensemble perfect. β Sophie praised the unknown cook. β And it would have won the battle on the main course if its foe hadn't been that ratatouille. To my knowledge, only one place in the world is capable do do this exact dish and it's a favorite of my uncle, who is a world renowned critic. So, I'm sorry for whoever made the perfect risotto, but the ratatouille wins the match. β The French woman smiled apologetically and observed as the rat excitedly turned to his holder and squeaked constantly something at him.
β Remy is honored that you think that and he had no idea that no one had been able to replicate the receipt outside the bistro. He'll keep it in mind. β Phantom relayed.
β Thank you for your praises, young lady. I guess I lost the challenge, then. β The elderly specter deflated a bit, dimming her auraΒ²*.
β There's still the dessert! Let's see if it's a triplet. β Fred intervened.
β Am I correct to presume that the apple pie is yours madam Lunch Lady? β Sophie asked, earning a nod. β You shouldn't feel down then: it was the most exquisite apple pie I ever ate. The favors were rich and the baking was perfect. The crust was fragrant and not too buttery; the cinnamon inside didn't cover the other tastes and the ice cream was so creamy that I could tell that it was made from scratch, it was on par with what I experienced in Italy.
β "But"? β The Lunch Lady added, anticipating her.
β The Halloween-themed dessert had multiple techniques, tastes and consistencies combined into a single piece of art. Cuisine is all about reaching new peaks; this is why it's important to let people change menus. While it's also right not to forget your roots, to enforce immobility is to deny freedom and it would have made impossible for us to ever get gems like today's dishes. So, please, madam Lunch Lady, think about it. β Sophie implored. She had heard why the stakes were so important in this duel during the fourth hour and as a decent human being she would have preferred that everyone involved was satisfied by the outcome.
β She's right. The first time we fought, you were so focused on the changed menu that you lost sight of how many people would have supported you. The girl who had upset the original menu should just have added the vegan and vegetarian options, not completely replace everything. I know that what you believe is your obsession demands that your menu has to be the rule and so unchangeable, but humanity's tastes have changed in the past 50 years. Maybe your obsession had been something else at the beginning. Maybe back then, your original menu was loved by everybody, so this is why you wanted it unchanged. But many generations have passed through Casper High and new dietary needs have arisen, so the original menu is not enough anymore! Please, Lunch Lady, think about what your obsession really was! β Phantom pleaded, making the other ghost pause and reflect.
β β¦I'll think about it. I need time. But I guess I'll have plenty now that this challenge bans me from changing the changes to Amity menus. I'll be back. β The spectral woman nodded her thanks and vanished. Eberybody looked at Phantom, a bit alarmed.
β She's gone. I saw her go in the direction of the Fentonworks, so she's probably going to the Ghost Zone. β He reassured, then smiled. β We won, Remy!
Both ghost started cheering and the audience (both alive and "living-impaired") followed suit, allowing Sophie to reach the winners in the commotion.
β Phantom, congratulations! Can I have a word with you two? β The French woman asked.
Mouse and teen looked at one another, then nodded. The boy sneaked the three of them to the kitchens and, after removing and storing away all the Go-Pros, allowed her to start the conversation. β Remy, right? Can I ask you how you could prepare that ratatouille? Only a bistro with that namesake could make it like this. β The rat squealed something at Phantom, who translated.
β "I invented that receipt when I was still alive. Linguini, Colette and I worked together until I died of old ageΒ³*." β The boy quoted, not much surprised, as if he had already known it. β He asked if you're related with Anton Ego.
β Oui, he's my uncle. He has been mourning someone for the past five months, he said he had been his favorite chef, but since no human made the headlines, that had to be you Remy. β Sophie deduced, making the rat nod.
β "I wanted to come back to cook with them, but I'm too weak." Well, you are normally a Level 2 and Paris hasn't got as much ambient ectoplasm as Amity, but maybeβ¦ We can ask the Fentons!
β Ready to go, petit chef? β Sophie asked Remy, who nodded from his Jar of Recharge on the passenger seat of the rental car.
β Remember, if you fel or see something malfunction, you can give us a call, no matter the hour. β Maddie Fenton recommended.
β Of course madam, thank you again for your help. β The French woman grinned grateful.
β The both of you helped us with one of our regular spooks, it was the least we could do. Besides, I love the challenges! β Jack Fenton puffed proudly.
β Then we'll take our leave. We still have a road-trip to finish! β Sophie Ego cheered.
β "π°ππ ππ ππππ’ πππππππ ππ πππ’! πΎπππ π π'ππ ππππ ππ πΏππππ, πΈ'ππ ππππ ππ ππππ’ πππ πππππππ ππππ π»πππππππ πππ π΄ππ π πππ πππππ’!" β The Gabber installed in the Jar translated the squeaks in a boyish voice.
The duo departed soon after saying goodbye, both satisfied with their goals, current and future: Paris was in for a treat once they were back.
ΒΉ* I didn't read the "Hunger Games" series, but this citation felt fitting! κ°( ο½κ³Β΄)κ±
Β²* If the Lunch Lady seems a bit OoC here, it's because she's bound by the general rules of a duel.
If someone is declared the winner, the loser can't retaliate without serious consequences according to the official Rules of the Zone. (Like, it's an offense Observants-rated, not Walker-rated.)
Β³* Sadly the lifespan of rats is 5-7 years, soβ¦ Yeah. (ｑβ’ΜοΈΏβ’Μｑ)
FFnet
A/N. Trivia Time: My pathetic brain (while writing this) thought that the Lunch Lady looked like the granny from the "Courage the Cowardly Dog", then I went looking on the Wikia something regarding her obsession and my mental image shattered. So, yeah, it's been a while since I watched the show! (βΛαΊo)
Fred (the owner) did indeed "pay" Remy for the two receipts (appetizer and dessert) by funding his "Jar of Recharge", which instruction are the following:
Practical guide to the functioning of your "Jar of Recharge":
in order to accumulate enough ambient ectoplasm for your Level 1 or 2 Ghost Companion to manifest to naked eye for a month, it's recommended to visit at least once a month either your local cemetery or a place with high spiritual levels.
In Paris, the most recognized and recommended place is the Catacombs under the city.
Even if inside the "Jar of Recharge" is installed an Ecto-purifier, it's advised to check the quality of the collected ectoplasm before allowing your Level 1 or 2 Ghost Companion to interact with it.
Thank you again for choosing the Fentonworks Tech. Have a nice day!
On the Ao3 version of this chapter, there's the link to the visual of the Pumpkin SoufflΓ© (only the dessert itself, not the decoration around it); I worked hard on inventing two dishes that Danny could have suggested and that Remy (being the most experienced between the two) could actually be able to make artistically. Hope you liked them! γ(κͺκ³κͺ)γ
Type ya tomorrow, the fun is just at the beginning!
Will Day 02 be Scream or Laugh? Check in "Domestic Phantoms" and you'll find out!