Django #1.1 Welcome
It was a sunny day, the beginning of Spring and with it came the flow of tourists that wanted to visit Portia. At some point during the day, they would push the door of the Round Table, Portia's unique restaurant. They were greeted by Django, the owner of the establishment. It was acknowledged that the place was very welcoming thanks to Sonia, his very talented waitress, who was able to make any patron feel at home.
Django was often just behind the bar, taking care of the customers that were sitting there and of the cooking. Sonia was going all over the tables, getting or bringing orders, and most of all, gossiping if she could.
Today, behind the entrance door, sitting on one of the stools of the bar, was a new customer, probably having come by the bus that was cruising between Portia's main gates and the tunnel entrance.
Django put down the ordered glass of Rainbow Lemonade on a coaster in front of her, looking at the bandaged fingers that were flipping the pages of the paper menu.
Or, she was the new Builder?
This had been the talk of the town for some weeks now: someone was taking over the old workshop in front of Peach Plaza. The man that was occasionally doing some job there had left some months ago, leaving it for dead. A storm had even destroyed some parts of the building, leaving it in a very sorry state. Last week, the mayor Gale had been very ecstatic to tell them the news about someone coming, about Portia's new builder. Higgins had been sulking ever since about the new competition, being even more demanding about the jobs he was accepting at the Commerce Guild.
The Builder voice brought him back to the present. "I'd like a Bamboo Papaya With Egg-on-Top, please!".
Django nodded to the girl who put the menu aside, fingers of one hand now tapping in rhythm on the wood of the bar, and the other grabbing the glass of lemonade.
He kept observing her from the corner of his eyes. She leant on an elbow at the counter and turned towards the center of the room. He guessed she wanted some privacy that the place right behind the main door was giving as people entering the restaurant couldn't see her and were going about their usual business. From her hidden place, she could see everything and observe the patrons, she even nodded at Presley that had come for lunch and finally noticed her after sitting at his usual place, facing the bar.
Django finished the preparation, sliding the poached egg on top of the meal, and brought it to the girl. Her big eyes shined when receiving it and she grabbed her fork and knife with an apparent delight.
The way her nose was pointing and the strands of hair falling in front of her face in a smooth curl were really playing with his memory. But he definitely couldn't grab the image she was almost conjuring. He somehow knew that face.
"Hey, Django! Two Banner Fish salads, please," his waitress said.
He turned to her who had just appeared from taking orders at the other side of the restaurant.
"Sure, coming right up!" he answered. The man smiled when he saw her eyes sliding to the girl sitting not far. She whispered something he couldn't hear, but he knew Sonia enough to understand that she was trying to guess what was the best way to approach the newcomer. The brunette was overly friendly and open-minded, always wanting to share with the people around her. Tourists weren't spared of her enthousiasm to know about them.
After another single minute, she finally decided to get closer to the new face, and Django chuckled while preparing the two salads.
Now, he wouldn't say he was the kind to gossip, even though Sonia had told him otherwise. He deemed himself honorable and thus, wouldn't eavesdrop on purpose. But seriously, he couldn't prevent himself from hearing what was said at the bar, right? So it was alright to have his curiosity satiated while cooking...
Excuses, excuses. But now, he was listening and he just made a mental note to try to be nonchalant about it later on.
He caught the conversation between the two at the bar easily, Sonia introducing herself first. And thanks to that, he learned the girl's name, Eileen. He learned her age, being young as expected, she could be his daughter. He also learned she was coming from Barnarock, having started to settle here just the day prior.
He had been there once, to Barnarock. He and the tourists that could visit there were all saying the same thing about that place: it was a harsh environment to live in, a land with no great potential and yet so many people. A land that, if he had had to live there, he would have fled without looking back. Portia was definitely a better place, with its large green fields, pastures and forests, and the inhabitants of the town were the most caring he had loved to know.
So the girl was coming from such a place and yet, she seemed lively. He was almost expecting to see someone with solid and tired features. But she was quite the opposite with her long wavy brown hair and her lively eyes that were darting everywhere with curiosity. She also had a smile that was reaching her ears while laughing at what Sonia was telling her.
Now, he was curious about the Barnarock palate and how it differed from the people living in the Alliance. Would his cuisine be good enough?
Not that he was worrying anyway. Everybody loved his food. Even the most difficult people always found something to like. He had a menu that covered every taste of Portia, and they were picky. From the spiciest to the sweetest, he was also preparing sour, bitter or very salty food. And last but not least, he was quite the connoisseur in the secretive umami power. No no no, he wasn't worried about his menu.
Sonia's inquisitiveness went to ask the new builder the purpose of her moving to Portia.
"My Pa gave me the place when he decided to go around the world," she answered, her smile never falting.
So she was the daughter.
His brow raised when he heard about the sudden letter Eileen had received from her father, telling he was giving her the old workshop. She hadn't expected and was still surprised by this fact.
"I'm afraid that place hadn't been visited for a long time," Sonia declared.
"Yeah, there were a lot of holes here and there and I really didn't sleep well," Eileen answered with a sigh. "This morning, I had to find wood in order to repair everything. At least, I won't be cold anymore during the night." She wriggled her bandaged fingers in front of her and Sonia gasped.
"That's not right! They should have let you stay in one of the apartments in front of here!" She pointed at the building through the windows, the Happy Apartment building that was housing many of the youth of Portia. The place was cheap and comfortable according to the waitress who was herself residing there.
They discussed a little more and Django finally stopped listening, focusing on the task at hand.
"And I guess he didn't introduce himself, right ?" Sonia's voice came to him when he finally finished and was putting down the two plates on the counter. "Django is the artist of the cuisine of this city. Whatever he does is so good, you'll never regret it!"
"Come on now, I just do it because I like it, not because I'm good at it," he commented, waving a hand to his waitress. She rolled her eyes and took the two plates.
"Say whatever you like, old man. Well, I go back to work, pleased to meet you Lin!"
Sonia made a small bow and finally turned to bring the order to the clients who had come for lunch.
"So, here for the Workshop, right?" Django asked the new Builder. The girl raised her head from her already clean plate.
"Yeah. Came to revive the family joint. Hope I can do good here, but it's not like there is a big reputation to save to begin with, I think."
"Well, Higgins sure made his way into people's trust when it comes to this. But did you ever build something back in Barnarock?"
"Oh, I met the man. I see what you mean. And yeah, I built quite a lot at home! But more for fun than something else. I had a very boring job on the side to help pay for the materials and I just spent my free time helping the people around me with their stuff. You know, repairing a chair, a broken lamp, an old building or odd jobs like that."
She talked about it with a very kind smile that brought to Django a feeling of peace. She seemed to like helping others and he didn't feel any malice behind it. He was certain that she was a total opposite of Higgins and would be able to balance the roughness of the man by being a good competition.
"I see, well, Miss, welcome to Portia," he told her and he slided towards her a piece of Fruit Puff. "On the house!"
"Oh my, thank you!" she answered with a bright smile. "Oh, and please Django, call me Lin."
Django #1.2 Secrets
"Oh please please please, teach me about this recipe, Django! What's the secret ingredient?"
Eileen was standing on the lower bars of her stool, supporting her weight with her arms to look beyond the bar. She had come for lunch again, like every day since she arrived in Portia, not long ago. Like every day, she was inquiring about his recipes.
"Builder, I regret to tell you again but," he put in front of her the dish she had ordered, "I do not share my secrets with anybody."
Crossing her arms to her chest, Eileen fell back to her chair. "Eileen. Call me Ei-leen. And it's not fair ! It's so good, I want to know so I can try it myself."
"And then I lose a patron?" he answered, a hand on his hips as an act of mocked annoyance. He watched her dig in her plate of spaghettis and eat a full fork of it, seemingly thinking about what she should say next. However, the hot spice caught her and it showed right on her face. She reached for the cup of milk with a bit of distress and gulped it full in one go.
"Way more spicy than at home," she sighed, pulling the top of her shirt to fan herself. "And yet so good." She marked a pause, holding the empty glass to Django so he could refill her cup.
The front door opened and the usual crowd for lunch came in, greeting both Eileen and Django as they went to their usual tables.
People had started to notice the new builder, and they were now always checking behind the door to be able to greet her. Whenever that happened, she waved a hand with a smile, with more-than-often her mouth full because she apparently didn't know how to eat slowly.
"Where was I?" she asked herself after finishing her greeting with the town people. "Ah yes, secrets!"
He finally yielded.
What he had thought was just polite talk and compliment from receiving good food, was in fact a real eagerness to know about cooking. Having her over every single lunch, asking for secrets, trying to guess the spices and the cooking or stewing time had put a dent in his guard and probably totally melted it.
He had been unsure about sharing. So, he had challenged them both.
First himself, wanting to see if he would be disappointed to finally understand she was just being amiable with her askings. And then her, by seeing how far she was willing to go in order to learn.
That day, he had blurted out that it would cost her 100 gols to know his secrets. He had thought it would be enough for her to give up, money was tight for her with the start of her new workshop. He had winced internally after he told the price. He was not being very fair...
To his surprise, she had immediately plunged her hand in her bag, her tongue darting out as she was concentrating to get her little wallet out and got out the coins.
And now here he was, looking at her when she exclaimed "here!" with all the pride in the world.
So he yielded.
Django kept looking between the money on the counter and the look of curiosity that Eileen was offering him. He didn't have a choice anymore did he? He felt warm and funny inside, something close to pride. Misplaced pride?
He took the money and slided it under the bar in an empty basket, and sighed.
"All right." He ignored the victory dance she made at his words and turned to the small kitchen area.
"You just need these three ingredients," he said, pushing a bag of rice, a pumpkin and some radish towards her. "The key is that you can mix the vegetable with an egg before adding them to the pot. Or milk if the person wants it more creamy. That's how you do the Pumpkin Steamed Rice."
Eileen's eyes were sparkling with so much light he felt like he was becoming blind. Would he regret giving out his secret?
"Oh, f-for real? That's your secret and not some lie to have me off your back?"
Django chuckled. He would not.
"It is one of my many secrets."
"Oh, yes! I'm gonna try that right away!" Eileen vanished from the restaurant, saying many thank yous. She even bumped into Sonia as she wasn't looking in front of her.
"What struck her?" The waitress asked, giving out the bag of coins she had retrieved from the outside shop.
"I think I signed my doom and the beginning of my competition," Django told her. His eyes drifted a moment to the door and then the window, where he could see the day light coming from. He could still spot Eileen, stopped by the young Nora from the Church of Light. He couldn't tell what they were talking about but both of them were laughing and he could discern their smiles.
"Sonia, could you… keep that money safe? And return it to Eileen next time she passes by?"
The waitress started laughing and took the basket. "If you are ashamed of taking her money, don't ask it to begin with."
"I know, I know…"
Django #1.3 Presents
Whenever Django was out to take his well deserved break, walking towards the bench under the tree across Peach Plaza, he would encounter his friend. Eileen had learned his pattern and always chose this moment to come and ask for his secrets. Every time, he would give a new recipe with the main ingredients and his own twist to make it perfect.
As he was expecting today, once he sat and started relaxing, he saw her coming. Her sheepish grin made him frown and close the book he was reading.
"What is happening to you Miss Lin? Is something the matter?"
She twisted her fingers and he could see a bit of pink coloring her cheeks. He was now genuinely concerned. She looked like a kid that had made a mistake and was afraid of the consequences.
He pressed her to go on with a slight shake of his head.
"I-I'd like to ask for your help. I want to cook something, for real," she told him. "Some of my friends have expressed desires for some special dishes a-and, I was wondering if…"
"If I could help you make the dishes for them?" he finished. So that was the reason. He smiled at the innocent shyness of the girl, who simply nodded to answer him. It was an adorable gesture from her and he definitely couldn't resist it.
"Alright. Come tomorrow by the morning and we will work on that together."
"Thank you so much!" Again that bright smile illuminated her face. It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She unfolded, seemingly taller and happier. Was she that afraid he'd refuse? Would she have been disappointed in him if he had?
Eileen waved at him and went back to her business by the Commerce Guild.
Well, now, he had to make a little detour before hitting Martha's shop.
The morning after, he welcomed the builder in his restaurant that was closed for the day. Sonia, when learning she wouldn't have to come to work, had been ecstatic. She went on talking about how she wanted to have a sleepover with her friends for a long time now, and she left him promptly, wishing him good luck with his cooking session.
Now, the place was free of customers and perfect for quality cooking time. Something that Django wanted to do at least once a week but couldn't, because Portia needed to eat and not everybody had a functional kitchen, nor the time to cook.
From behind him, he handed out a bag to the girl who looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"Wear this," he told her simply. And once she took the bag, he turned behind him to grab the pitcher of the Apple tea he had made.
Feeling a bit shameful, he kept himself from looking at her when she discovered the apron he got her. But he heard the ruffle of the bags and her thanks.
"Why is there "Builder" written on it? Did you custom-made it?" Eileen asked him, giggling, while tying it around her hips.
"I guess I did. Now, Builder , please tell me what you want to make for your friends."
Eileen turned her backpack in front of her and dug in it to get out a brown notebook. The thing was used, he could tell. It was thick with a leather cover and the edges of the pages were darkened from many shuffling.
She opened it, went through the pages and with a "ah!", she laid it out on the counter so he could see. Django winced at the bad writing. The page had a timetable with a lot of notes here and there about commissions, requests from friends or ideas. There even were drawings of structures and indications on how to place parts. Eileen was definitely very serious and passionate about her job. And passionate.
He finally noticed a little list in one of the corners. Names of people linked to names of dishes or ingredients.
"You want to make the three of them?" he asked, frowning when trying to decipher the last word of the list. Was that a badly written Mushroom ? How many 'o' did she put?
"Ye-yeah," she confessed, going back to looking at her feet with shyness. "But we don't have to do them all! I'll be happy with just one"
"Oh, no. We'll prepare everything and you'll be at it until it's perfect"
He clapped his hands "Ok, let's gather ingredients! And we will start with the stew."
Django started giving pointers to the young girl. She followed every one of them, asking even more questions when she wasn't sure about the process. Her curiosity was pleasing him and made him more eager to share whatever he could to help her perfect these dishes. She was making them for her friends and there wasn't a more noble wish in his book.
He made her repeat the peeling of some special seasoning, indicating precisely how to remove the bad parts and extract the aroma without losing a drop of it.
When twelve rang, they had almost finished the first dish and the main sauce she wanted to prepare. Remaining were the fruits to take care of but he suggested a break time.
"Did you always cook?" Eileen asked when sitting at the bar. She accepted the cup of tea that Django served.
"No. I used to be a Knight," he answered frankly. Her lips made an inaudible 'oh'. "I always wanted to protect people and assure their happiness. So I fought, and when I retired, I decided to cook. I feel like cooking is my way to continue bringing some kind of protection to people. Not everybody can eat good food, so I help in that way."
"I see. So you don't fight anymore." she said and he nodded. "But I keep seeing you training with Toby."
"We never know what the future has for us. I prefer to be at the ready if something comes out. I still like fighting, but I prefer it being for a good cause. Right now, the world is at peace and doesn't need my services."
Eileen did not answer after that, seemingly in deep thoughts. He took the moment of silence to get some food out and align small dishes on the table next to their tea.
"And where do your passion for cooking come from, Builder?"
She rolled her eyes before answering, amused by the nickname instead of the use of her name. "It's just that… Portia has so much more to offer than Barnarock. Over there, the weather is hard, and nothing similar can be cultivated. The fresher we can maybe have is seafood? Inside the land, nothing is really easy to get. So, I want to try it all here, when I can. The spices, the tastes, the colors… and maybe find something to bring back to my Aunt."
"That is something I can understand," he approved.
They ate with small conversation and when plates were clean of food, they went back to cooking the remaining of her list.
Few hours later, they were finished and everything was in containers to transport easily. Eileen put everything with caution in her bag and when everything was secured, she raised and Django noticed she was holding a small present between her hands.
"I have gotten a little something for you, to thank you for your help," she said. She gave him the little package.
Django raised an eyebrow, surprised by such attention. "You shouldn't have," he told her.
"You closed your restaurant almost all day to help me with three little dishes, it's… just a thank you gift. Maybe one day, I'll be cooking something of my imagination for you for a better gift."
The man laughed with appreciation. "Well, thank you." He opened the package delicately and was greeted with a beautiful paper flower craft. "Oh, Eileen…"
"Oh I'm sorry, was that too girly? I just thought it would please you because you always have a lot of flowers here and-"
"No no! It's perfect, thank you. I am really pleased by your gift." He took the red flower and turned it slowly in his hands to see the whole craft.
"Alice taught me how to make them. Sometimes, I provide her store with cultivated soil in exchange for some flowers she couldn't sell during the day." Eileen explained. "It's not as perfect as hers but…"
"Don't worry, it's perfect" Django repeated.
He found a place on the top of a shelf close to the counter and smiled. "Now, you should go deliver your other presents before it's too late."
"Oh yeah, you're right!"
Eileen grabbed her bag and put it on her shoulders. "Thank you again Django. I promised I won't tell anybody your secrets!" She opened the door and before leaving she turned one last time towards him. "And don't worry, I'll still come by tomorrow!" she teased.
He just waved his hand at her and when the door closed, he went to give a last glance to the flower craft. "That's a good daughter you have, my friend."