A/N: Regina is feeling down as Emma never seems to compliment her cooking, no matter how hard she tries. Why on earth is Emma acting like a lost penguin in the Sahara?!
"What on earth is that?" Emma's eyes bulge out of her head as she steps into the kitchen and sees what Regina is cooking.
"Rasgulla," Regina replies nonchalantly, continuing to slice and dice.
"Ras-what?" Emma recoils in horror.
"It's an Indian dish, you know, darling," Regina explains with a smirk. "Cheese balls flavored with rose water."
"Oh god, please don't make me eat that," Emma pleads, taking a whiff of the pungent aroma.
"Come on, don't be a wimp," Regina teases, holding out a small, round ball. "Just try it."
Emma looks like she's about to faint. "I'd rather eat dirt," she mutters.
"Fine, more for me," shrugs Regina, popping the razguli into her mouth and savoring the flavor.
But Emma can't take her eyes off the dish. She watches in horror as Regina chews and swallows, feeling her stomach churn at the thought of trying it herself.
"Ugh, fine," she finally relents, closing her eyes and opening her mouth reluctantly.
Regina giggles and grins triumphantly while taking a piece of razguli and pulling Emma towards her. "Close your eyes and open your mouth," urges Regina, as Emma looks tortured.
"Ewww," Emma takes a bite of the offered food. She chews for a moment and then tilts her head curiously, rolling the razguli around her tongue a few times. "Well, it's not that bad actually. It's quite good."
Regina laughs. "Of course it is. When someone takes away your bear claw, you're completely done for. You act like it's the end of the world and then you end up liking it."
Emma shrugs, still chewing. "I guess I'm just a sucker for anything with rose flavoring."
Regina chuckles. "That's because you're a hopeless romantic, my love. Now finish your razguli and let's go cuddle on the couch."
Dear Wishing Well,
Today, I'm writing to you with a heavy heart. I must admit, I am feeling a bit down lately. You see, Emma never seems to compliment my cooking. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to impress her. I've even tried making her favorite dishes, but she never says anything positive about them. It's starting to make me wonder if there's something wrong with my cooking.
Now, I don't have the word "failure" in my vocabulary, but I can't shake off this feeling of inadequacy. I find myself questioning every ingredient, every seasoning, every cooking technique. Should I add more salt to the soup? Should I change the brand of olive oil? Should I start using a different kind of onion? Should I add more dressing to my salads? Should I start buying bread rolls without caraway seeds? Is there something wrong with my special lasagna? When I make my perfect toasties, should I slice the salami into rectangles instead of squares?
It's driving me crazy!
And to make matters worse, when we have dinner at Emma's parents' house, she always compliments Snow on her cooking. Even if Snow only serves boiled potatoes, Emma still raves about how delicious they are. I mean, come on! Boiled potatoes? It's like she's trying to make me feel bad.
I can't help but think that even a monkey could make boiled potatoes. Maybe I should start serving monkey food instead of my own cooking. At least that way, Emma might actually appreciate it.
I just wish Emma could appreciate my cooking as much as she appreciates Snow's. Is that too much to ask?
Anyway, I just needed to vent to someone who won't judge me. And I can't ever tell this to Emma. Until then, I'll be here in the kitchen, crying over a pot of pasta that's overcooked.
Sincerely,
Regina Mills
Regina throws the letter into the well with a sigh and goes back to work.
Emma is at the police station, sitting in a chair with her feet up on the table, reading about the current, very serious case of Pongo destroying the tomatoes in Granny's garden, when a flying letter hits her in the face.
"Ouch! What the hell is that?" Emma jumps up in surprise and bends down to pick up the letter, which ended up on the ground.
"Emma, why are letters falling from the sky on you?" David asks in confusion.
Emma looks at the letter curiously. "I have no idea, dad." She opens it and starts reading. After a moment, she becomes sad.
"Who's it from? What does it say? What's going on?" David asks.
"It's nothing, Dad. Regina just sent me a romantic note," Emma puts on a fake smile. "And what's in it is my secret."
"Yeah, I approve. I'd rather not even imagine what exactly you two consider romantic writing."
"Dad!" Emma rolls her eyes, gets up from her chair, grabs her red jacket, and heads out the door.
As Emma walks, she wonders how to deal with a problem she didn't even know existed. How could Regina possibly think that she doesn't like her food? She loves it! Day after day, she can't wait to see what Regina has in store.
Why does she think she doesn't like her food? She praises it every minute!... Doesn't she? Emma frowns, trying to remember the last time she told Regina her cooking was sensational. To her surprise, she can't remember. And then it dawns on her. She thinks it's so obvious that, over time, she's stopped praising Regina's cooking because she must have thought it was getting to the point where it annoyed Regina. Now, what to do with that?
"Hm, if I create a shrine dedicated to Regina's cooking in our home, complete with candles, flowers, and pictures of her dishes, it would be too creepy," giggled Emma to herself.
Emma decides to try a new approach to showing Regina how much she loves her cooking. She wakes up early and goes to the kitchen to whip up a batch of Regina's favorite pancakes. But things don't go according to plan. As she's flipping the pancakes, one of them goes flying out of the pan and lands on the floor. She quickly tries to clean it up, but ends up slipping on the batter and falling on her backside. Regina wakes up to the sound of the commotion and rushes to the kitchen to find Emma covered in pancake batter.
"What on earth are you doing, Emma?" Regina asks in disbelief.
"I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed," Emma says sheepishly, as she gets up and brushes the batter off of her clothes.
Regina shakes her head and laughs. "I appreciate the effort, but next time, when you feel the urge, let's stick to something simpler."
Later that day, Emma tries another approach. She decided to try leaving a note for Regina, expressing how much she enjoyed her meals. Emma carefully wrote out the note and left it on the kitchen counter for Regina to find.
Days passed, but Regina didn't mention anything about the note. Emma wondered if she had seen it at all. Then, as she was cleaning behind the fridge, she found the note lying there, forgotten. She had accidentally knocked it behind the fridge when she was putting away groceries.
As Emma continues to ponder how to show Regina her love for her cooking, she decides to take her out to a fancy restaurant. She thinks it would be a nice change of pace and a chance to show Regina how much she enjoys good food.
However, things don't go as planned. As they dine, Emma begins to compare the food to Regina's cooking, mentioning how she prefers the restaurant's take on a certain dish. Regina grows increasingly insecure and upset, feeling like Emma doesn't appreciate her cooking anymore.
Regina pushes her food away, barely touching it. Emma notices the change in her demeanor and realizes her mistake. She tries to reassure Regina that she still loves her cooking and that the restaurant's food is good in its own right, but Regina is too upset to hear it.
The rest of the dinner is awkward and tense, and Emma regrets ever suggesting the idea. She feels like she's only made things worse. When they return home, Regina retreats to the kitchen, feeling defeated.
One evening, Emma hears a clattering sound in the kitchen and decides to investigate. She finds Regina trying to chop garlic with a dull knife, clearly struggling. Emma realizes that she needs to do something to show Regina that she still cares about her needs and appreciates her cooking.
Without a word, Emma grabs her keys and heads to the store. She spends an hour browsing through the kitchen gadget section and finally settles on a new set of knives. She knows how important it is to Regina to have the right tools for the job.
When Emma returns home, she presents the knives to Regina with a sheepish grin. Regina is surprised and confused, but when she sees the new knives, she can't help but smile. Emma explains that she knows how much cooking means to Regina and that she wants to support her in every way she can.
Regina's smile grows wider, and she takes one of the knives out of its sheath. She cuts into a tomato with ease, marveling at the sharpness of the blade. Emma watches her with pride and relief, knowing that she's done something to make things right.
As the evening wears on, Emma and Regina find themselves laughing and talking. Emma begins taking a deep breath and looking Regina straight in the eyes. "Regina, I'm so sorry for comparing the restaurant's food to your cooking. I only did it because I wanted to show off your amazing skills and how proud I am of you." Regina looks at Emma, her eyes starting to soften.
"Emma, I've been feeling insecure about my cooking lately. I was afraid that you didn't appreciate it anymore." Regina admits, her voice cracking. Emma's heart aches for her.
"Regina, I love your cooking. It's one of the things that make me fall in love with you over and over again," Emma says, taking Regina's hand. "I'm sorry I didn't show it as much as I should have. But I want to make it up to you. You are an amazing cook and I want to show you how much I appreciate your talents. Your cooking means the world to me."
"Thank you, Emma," Regina says softly. "Cooking has always been my way of showing love, and I was afraid that you didn't appreciate it anymore."
Emma pulls out a small wrapped package from her pocket and hands it to Regina. Regina opens it to find a cookbook filled with all of her favorite recipes, along with notes from Emma telling her how much she loves each dish. Regina's eyes fill with tears, and she looks up at Emma with so much love in her eyes.
"Love, this is so thoughtful. I don't even know what to say," Regina says, pulling Emma into a tight hug.
"You don't have to say anything, Regina. I just want you to know how much I love you," Emma says, holding her close. "And I want to make sure you never doubt that again."