De Re Coquinaria Bellorum Stellarum - The Unofficial 'Star Wars – The Clone Wars' Cookbook
Chapter 1 – Felix Dies Natalis Sit Tibi!
"Okay, Ping, let's do this. It says here to give a cup of margarine into a large mixing bowl and beat until fluffy. Alright – we've got the margarine. Let's see if we can find something that constitutes as a 'large mixing bowl'."
The bipedal servant droid beeped in agreement and started trotting towards the large cabinets lining one wall of the rather spacious senatorial kitchen. Opening cabinet door after cabinet door, the child-sized droid began pulling out pots and pans in various sizes, arranging them on the pristine kitchen floor all around its rounded, blue metal torso, while Ahsoka was still re-reading the first steps of the instructions given on her datapad. She only glanced up when a deep clonging noise reached her ears as Ping set a rather large, heavy skillet down with more force than was probably necessary.
Oh. Ups. Administrative droid turned kitchen chef. Right. Senator Chuchi did warn me about that.
Once she'd noticed the problem, however, she moved to interfere with the droid's unbroken enthusiasm for pulling every concave item in stock out of the cupboards, stepping carefully around the sea of dishes to take another metal bowl from the small droid's pincers. Ping simply gave another one of his (at any rate the senator had referred to her filing droid, officially named PIN-888, in the masculine form) high-pitched beeps and turned back to the cabinet to pull another bowl like the one she was holding from somewhere in the back.
"Wait, wait! We won't need quite so many bowls – well, at least I don't think we will." Since this was her first time cooking anything more complicated than pre-packaged soup, she honestly wasn't sure. But the recipe hadn't said anything about multiple dishes, so it was probably best not to clear out the whole senatorial kitchen at once.
"This one", she knocked softly against the bowl, which gave a soft 'gong', "should do nicely. Put the rest of them back into the cupboards, and I'll get the the mixer."
She grinned at Ping's soft noise of disappointment, then started opening the drawers which the senator had told her held the different tools she might need, and rummaged around till she found what looked like a handheld mixer operated by energy cells. Pressing the start button on top of the contraption proved her right, as the spirals at the end of the machine started spinning at blinding speed, making her think of power drills rather than culinary tools.
Okay... Let's hope this works. And preferably doesn't kill me first.
Senator Chuchi had graciously agreed to allow her the use of her kitchen – and her droid – for baking a cake for Barriss' lifeday tomorrow. Ever since surviving both nearly suffocating in the tank under the destroyed droid plant and nearly freezing after being infested with brain worms (she really didn't want to think closer about that aspect of their mission – the near death experiences had been more than enough to come to terms with), the Mirialan padawan and Ahsoka had become fast friends, long separations and differing personalities notwithstanding. So it was only natural that Ahsoka, after she'd yesterday belatedly learned the occasion for Barriss' free afternoon tomorrow and her suggestion to spend that time together, had decided to commemorate her friend's 17th lifeday by giving her a present. Jedi might not call many material possessions their own or place a great value in any of them; yet she felt that she wanted to give something to the girl who'd turned into one of her best friends so quickly and under such unexpected circumstances. Which she had then determined would be a cake, for abstinence and abjection notwithstanding, everybody ought to have had a lifeday cake at least a few times in their lives. Even Jedi.
Plus, it was a manageable present. Personal, nice, not very expensive nor complicated. For how difficult could it be to produce a simple dish of sweet pastry, despite her lack of experience? Even if she had to do so on short notice, and without Barriss learning about it? No worse than fighting Seppies and droids on the battlefield on a daily basis, for sure.
It turned out to be a lot harder than she'd anticipated.
First there was the problem of finding a suitable cake to prepare within two days' notice and little to no knowledge of what she was doing. She'd considered making the one she'd had on her tenth lifeday when she was still living in the nurseries, a multi-coloured concoction decorated with cream and various fruit sauces, but after taking a closer look at the recipe she'd found in the archives, she'd decided it might be a bit too ambitious an effort to choose for her first forays into the realm of baking. Asking Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi also hadn't been helpful, for it seemed that her Master had always wished for savory rather than sweet dishes for his lifedays, and Master Kenobi had told her in a conspiratorial whisper that he'd always either referred his padawan's ideas to the temple kitchen or ordered something from one of the many restaurants close to the temple. He'd suggested that maybe she could do the same, since it would be easier than baking a cake herself, but she'd felt it wouldn't be the right thing to do, lacking the personal touch she was looking for.
She'd tried asking the droids in the archives for help and searching through the cookbooks on file there, but not really knowing what she was looking for, that hadn't proven very fruitful. Master Nu would probably have been able to help her, but the head librarian cut a rather stern figure, and she would have felt ridiculous asking the grey-haired lady for a recipe when Master Nu surely had more important things to do. Researching background information for missions, for example. Or teaching younglings. Or protecting the holocrons. Whatever it was that head librarians did.
She'd ended up explaining her conundrum to Captain Rex, who'd raised an eyebrow at her rather strange request for a baking recipe, and kept looking at her that way until she'd given her reason for searching for something like that as well. It wasn't something she'd been quite sure how to word, since the clones didn't celebrate their lifedays, and maybe it would be offensive to ask them about lifeday presents? Fortunately, the opposite seemed to be the case: Rex might not precisely have a lifeday himself, but, so he told her, he could relate to the notion of celebrating it, and to her wish to give something personal to her friend. An outward symbol of inward closeness, comparable in a way to the connection the clones shared with their brothers. Perfectly understandable. Which it was. It also made her decide that she'd have to remember thinking about the clones' lack of lifedays once she was done preparing Barriss' present; it seemed unfair that they shouldn't get to celebrate the turning of the years, the continued existence of their brothers and friends. Maybe there was a way of having something like a surrogate lifeday once every year? Or another occasion to be celebrated instead? She'd have to ponder that question again once she had the time...
That settled, the problem remained that Rex also wasn't exactly an expert on confectionery. There was the Corellian tradition of having Ryshcate on especially joyful occasions, of course, but the cake took a long time to prepare and a lot of the ingredients were rather costly, so it wasn't really an ideal choice. In the end they'd asked Echo for help, after another search of the holonet had yielded only dubious results. Echo, who quite possibly remembered everything, or at least knew where he'd read something about it, had finally come up with a recipe for a confection called marble cake, a sweet pastry baked in the shape of a ring, which used easily obtainable ingredients and looked easy enough to make.
As was the way of difficulties, they didn't end at that point.
Next to consider was the question of how to get those ingredients, common though they might be, and where to finally make the cake. Her master's suit of rooms she didn't even think about, since his repertoire of kitchen tools was limited to one pan (for frying eggs), one pot (for heating up cans of pre-cooked food), a few plates and some pieces of cutlery (duh), and a caf maker (which was the one thing which was used with frightening regularity whenever he was staying at the temple). The temple kitchen was also out of the question, since Barriss could step in there at any given time for some reason or other, unlikely though that may be, and since it was too crowded at all times, anyway. She couldn't very well board a shuttle and return to the Resolute for the endeavor, not to mention that Cookie would skin her alive if she dared set foot into his galley, commanding officer or not.
In the end Master Skywalker had suggested she ask Senator Amidala for help, who had the space and probably also the ingredients to aid her on her cake-baking mission. As such things went, it was a good idea, but the senator turned out to have a full schedule today meeting dignitaries from planets allied with the neutral systems, and needed all her assistants and C3PO to aid her. While Senator Amidala would usually simply have thrown open the doors of her kitchen to the padawan and left her to her own devices, she had discouraged Ahsoka's suggestion that she do so today, since Representative Bings was to go through some files in the senator's home office and was sure to wander into the kitchen at one point or another. Which might not be all that helpful if Ahsoka was planning on having a presentable cake to give to Barriss by the end of the day, for friendly though the Gungan may be, he was also an established fool when tasked with things requiring a certain amount of fine-motor skills. So it was probably not the safest of plans to have him join Ahsoka on her first forages into baking – one raw recruit was enough to mess up, after all; two would be headed for disaster.
Thus her remaining options had seemed rather small, until Senator Amidala had proposed that Ahsoka ask Senator Chuchi for help. The padawan and the Pantoran senator had met on a few occasions and gotten to know each other rather well; certainly the senator wouldn't mind if Ahsoka occupied her kitchen for an afternoon? As it turned out, she didn't mind, and had instead told Ahsoka to send her the recipe so she could make sure all the ingredients were in store by the time the Togruta arrived. Senator Chuchi had also seen to it that her assistant installed some rudimentary files on cooking and baking on Ping, the secretary droid, so that Ahsoka would have some help, since Senator Chuchi had to hold a conference call with some members of the Pantoran Assembly in the afternoon. But she'd shown Ahsoka into the kitchen and explained to her where to find whatever she might need, plus told her to simply come to her office – second door to the right down the hall once you've crossed the main room – if she hit any trouble. Or if Ping was proving to be more hindrance than help, as a matter of fact.
Ahsoka smiled at the memory of the last statement, said in the wry, humorous tone of someone suffering from long experience. The senator had seemed rather fond of the droid, limited abilities beyond administration notwithstanding. A bit like Senator Amidala's treatment of C3PO, though Ping's programming seemed more akin to the personality of a faithful errand boy than an old nanny, lively rather than pessimistic. And perhaps a bit misguided in his actions, though not his intentions, she added as she watched the droid put away the last pan.
When the droid finally turned back around to her, she nodded toward the metal bowl to indicate that he was to bring it to the table, while she busied herself with opening the margarine tub. "Now let's... Oh – we still need the measuring cup. Any idea where Senator Chuchi keeps her mugs, Ping? Don't get it, just show me!", she added, when the animal shaped machine started waddling towards the cabinets again. Ping's left ear pointed at one of the upper cupboards above the worktop, which Ahsoka opened only to find an array of different glasses, cups and mugs on the upper shelves way out of her reach. Now she understood why the senator kept a small stepping stool in the corner beside the door – the wall units in this kitchen had obviously been designed for taller persons than petite Pantoran ladies and padawans not fully grown yet. Stepping onto the ladder, she took a closer look at the assortment of dishes hidden in the cabinet.
Okay... So which one of these am I supposed to use?
"Ping?" A blurry, questioning symphony answered her.
"Does the recipe say anything about the size of the cup?" Another blubbery melody, which she took to be a request for clarification.
"I don't know – gallons, or the planetary standard used in the recipe... whatever." She turned on her post to face the droid, who was scanning the datapad she'd brought before giving a negative noise that sounded like a sigh. He held up the pad to indicate Ahsoka could look for herself if she wanted to, but she just shook her head – whatever else might be true, she was pretty certain Ping knew how to scan a document for relevant information. Turning back to the cabinet, she carefully began sorting through the different dishes on the shelves, trying to think logically about what cup might normally be used for baking.
Mhm... She didn't really believe that the elegant caf set on the uppermost shelf, which was aligned so orderly that she doubted it had ever been used before, was the right measure to be employed here. Also out were glasses and tea bowls, since the recipe explicitly stated she should be searching for a cup. The two delicate, white porcelain mugs on the lowest shelf she didn't even touch, for though they must be taken out regularly, judging by their placing in the cabinet, they certainly looked too beautiful and breakable to be misused in something as mundane as baking. What remained then was an assortment of mugs in all shapes and sizes, through which she rummaged until coming up with a few rather large metal cups like the ones that were given out in the mess hall on the Resolute. Deciding that this had to be a rather standard measure if it was being mass-produced for an army of millions, she grabbed one of these, climbed down from the step stool and returned to Ping and the task at hand.
Ping hovered around her as she filled the cup to the brim with margarine and then spooned the fat into the mixing bowl, peering curiously into the gleaming metal dish as she cleaned her hands before taking up the mixer.
"Uhm, Ping, you might want to take a step back if you don't want to end up cleaning margarine off your photo receptors." Which didn't really help all that much, for even though the droid anxiously waddled to the other side of the table, some spatters of fat still landed on his metal hull when the mixer ricocheted off the metal bowl at Ahsoka's first attempt. In the end, quite a few small dashes of margarine rained onto the table and them both until she decided the substance in the bowl might be considered 'fluffy', as the recipe had said.
Ahsoka exhaled in relief; that machine was a lot harder to hold still than she'd originally thought. Or maybe she simply needed to practice handling kitchen tools more often. She took a glance at the recipe, and sighed when she read the rest of the first bulled point again. "Right... Forgot about that part... Add a ¾ cup of sugar, three drops of vanilla essence and six drops of rum essence – do you know what that is, Ping? No? Well, I don't, either; let's hope Senator Chuchi has something labeled like it. You get the sugar, and I'll go and see if I can find those other ingredients somewhere."
Opening various cupboards, drawers and boxes finally got her what she was looking for: An array of small glass bottles, hidden in a box and labeled in fine-print, turned out to hold the flavours mentioned in the recipe, as well as various other tastes. Once she'd twisted off the cap of the one denominated 'Finest Liquid Vanilla Essence", the heady, sweet aroma of the spice immediately filled the room. I'd better not get any of that on my fingers, or I'll be smelling like a pastry shop for a week... She could already hear the comments asking her if she'd taken a bath in vanilla syrup. Or alcohol, for that matter, judging from the stench that hit her when she'd firmly shut the first vial and opened the second one. Definitely something to be avoided. Thus she tried to handle the open bottle as carefully as possible, watching out of the corner of her eyes as Ping came over to the table, a large, opaque tin containing something white and grainy held securely between his pincers.
...Two...Three...
"You can take a cup and measure out ¾ of sugar, if you want to."
…Four...Five...Six...
She set the bottle down on the table, securely replaced the cap and put it back to the other vials in the box, returning it to the cupboard that seemed to be the storing place for all of Senator Chuchi's baking supplies. Back at the table, she found that Ping had indeed measured out a ¾ cup of sugar – using the metal mug she'd already employed for the margarine. Oh. Well. Just now he was dumping the fine grained white crystals into the bowl, and she arrived just in time to keep her helpmate from taking up the mixer to start blending. "Sorry, Ping, but I'd be more comfortable doing this myself." She smiled at the droid, who gave a low beep of disappointment. "Besides, you wouldn't want to ruin that shiny blue paint any more than you already have, would you? And I think this is going to be rather messy, don't you agree?"
He didn't, if the repeat of his ow whistle was any indication. Ahsoka sighed, then took another look at the recipe. "You know what? You can get the eggs we'll need in the next step. Five medium-sized nuna eggs – they should be in the cooling unit."
And with another smile at the droid, she once more concentrated on handling Senator Chuchi's monster of a mixer, first trying to at least somewhat fold the sugar into the fat before beginning to blend the mixture to a smooth cream. At least this time the spatters were noticeably fewer and smaller, though she still had to look like a rather strange creature by now, tiny bits of fluffy whitish stuff scattered onto her face and clothing. By the end of the process, the mix in the bowl looked and smelled alright, despite the rather alcoholic aroma clouding her nose. That there was also a light, perfectly circular ring of margarine and sugar spatters on the table, surrounded by small heaps of sugar and margarine stains where she and Ping had done their measuring, she decided to ignore.
A wet cracking noise made her turn around instead – and curse lightly at the sight that greeted her by the open cooler. "Oh, holy Force, damn it!"
Ping was trying – to his credit, with the utmost care – to lift one egg after another from the door of the cooling unit – rather unsuccessfully, unfortunately. So far, he had one egg securely in the grasp of his left pincer, and was attempting to take out another with the right one – for the fourth or fifth time, by the look of all the egg shells and the yellowish mess spread out on his torso and by his feet. With a soft splattering sound another egg hit the floor just as she finally managed to overcome her stupor and moved into Ping's direction.
"Ping, stop! Stop it, wait!" The droid glanced up at her with his photo receptors, pincers already raised to reach for another egg. She held out her hands, palm outward, in a calming gesture, while slowly walking towards the sink to get a damp cloth to start cleaning up the mess on the floor. "Just stand still for a minute, Ping, okay? Don't move, don't reach for another egg, and don't drop the one you've already got in hand. I'll just – mop up the eggs, and then everything will be good as new. Well, more or less, at least."
The droid gave a rather meek sound of agreement, ears flopping downward, head hanging low. She sighed – Senator Amidala had been wrong. Working with Representative Bings might actually have been easier than this. I'd better talk to Senator Chuchi after this – much as I like Ping, he really is proving more of a hindrance than a real help. Let's just hope she isn't holding that conference call anymore...
Wiping up the eggs took longer than expected, especially after Ping, trying to help her by lifting a foot to give her better access to the puddle, stepped back into the mess, thereby covering himself with even more crushed egg and the floor with yellow footprints by trying to find a place not already smeared with goo. By the end of her cleaning expedition, her cloths were ready for the cleaner, Ping's torso still looked like someone had taken a notion to painting him with contrastive spots, and her cake was no closer to finishing than it had been twenty minutes ago. At least there were still more than enough nuna eggs left in the cooler to complete the confection, and another cake like it into the bargain.
Rising to her feet, Ahsoka first scrubbed her hands vigorously to get rid off any residue egg mess before turning back to the cooler with a sigh. "You can step away from there now, Ping. Thanks for keeping still for so long. Let's see if we can continue were we left off before I tell Senator Chuchi about this episode. Hand me that egg you're still holding, will you? Hand it to me, not throw it!", she repeated, when Ping made to move his pincer rather fast in her direction.
Gathering his and four other eggs from the cooler, she finally returned to the table, where at any rate the mixture of sugar, fat and flavours was still as it had been before Ping had decided to paint the kitchen floor yellow. Alright. That's something. She'd clean up the mess still left on the table later, once the cake was finally baking in the oven.
Now add the eggs one at a time and blend each into the dough... Egg in hand, she turned to the bowl and – stopped. Wait... How does one break an egg without actually getting egg shells into the dough? She'd seen Master Skywalker do it quite a few times whenever they were back on Coruscant and he happened to feel like making breakfast, sometimes even on the slow days during missions. He simply took the egg in his left hand, slapped it hard against the rim of the bowl to crack it in half, opened the two halves, and let the egg fall into the bowl. Just like that. It always looked so damn easy! But looking at the egg in her hand and the dough in front of her now, she decided it might be better to try that technique at a time when she wasn't putting her friend's lifeday present at risk. Senator Chuchi's supplies might be plenty, but they weren't endless, after all.
Senator Chuchi...
It might really be a good idea to talk to the Pantoran first. Tell her about the problem with Ping and the disaster that was her kitchen. And ask her if she knows how to open an egg without smashing it to bits. The absurdity of the thought made her grin as she brushed off her hands once more and made her way through the living room into the private tract of the senatorial suite. I'm about to ask Lady Riyo Chuchi, Pantoran Senator of the Galactic Republic, to show me how to crack an egg for a simple lifeday cake. She couldn't deny there was something ironic to the statement. Politics and statecraft seemed much more worthy subjects to question such a person about – but then again, Senator Chuchi had never given her the impression of being beyond baking or cleaning, the way a lot of other dignitaries were. More like Senator Amidala, though less given to taking an active part in the shooting.
There was still no denying a certain nervousness once she arrived at the second door to the right down the corridor. No noise came from beyond the dark wooden panel, though the part of her senses that intuitively felt another being's presence, that inexplicable instinct she'd been born with and that she shared with other Jedi, told her the senator was somewhere behind that door, probably sitting at her desk, if the layout of the room was similar to the usual design of office suites. Not giving herself time to hesitate any further, she knocked softly on the door, and was answered after a momentary wait by a polite "Come in, please!"
Stepping inside, she did indeed find the senator sitting behind a large wooden desk, still engaged in a holocall, though she seemed to be wrapping up the conversation at that very moment. "Very well. Then I'll talk to you in three days' time to discuss the further developments of the negotiations, Chairman."
The blue holo bust of a bearded Pantoran facing the senator, obviously the planet's new chairman, nodded in answer: "Indeed, Chuchi. Hopefully we'll be able to convince the Trade Federation to extend our debt on these conditions. A planetary crisis so shortly after the death of Lord Cho – I do not think that would go over well."
The senator had half raised the fingers of one hand to subtly acknowledge Ahsoka's, but other than that did nothing to show she had noticed her presence, focusing on the conversation instead. "Indeed it wouldn't, Chairman. I'll see to it that everything possible is done to keep that from happening. My assistant is already working on a solution as we speak; I'm sure she won't disappoint us."
The chairman chuckled lightly in response: "She never has so far, now has she? But you must return to your legislation papers, Chuchi, and I need to explain to the Assembly that our difficulties will hopefully be short-lived. Let us hope that we won't have to concern ourselves with these things anymore when I make my inaugural visit half a year from now. For the moment, I thank you for your time and effort, Senator. One day, Pantora will be most grateful to you for what you did, I'm sure." He nodded gravely, as if to underline that opinion.
The senator smiled self-deprecatingly. "You flatter, Chairman. It is I who should be saying my thanks. Please give my regards to your family – I hear your daughter has taken an interest in politics?"
"She has, indeed. You'll find her a most interesting conversationalist when you meet her the next time – even I nowadays sometimes have difficulties holding our against her when she's defending her stronger notions."
"Then I hope to see her in Athena soon. Until then, Chairman Papanoida..." Senator Chuchi straightened in her chair, subtly hinting towards the end of the conversation, but too polite to cut her political leader off abruptly.
Fortunately for her, the chairman seemed to understand the hint, and did not sound offended as he said his goodbyes. "Until then, Senator. Have a good evening on Coruscant – we'll speak again in three days' time."
"And a good day on Pantora to you, sir." Nodding politely, the senator finally ended the call and turned to her guest, standing to greet her and wave her into one of the chairs placed in front of her desk. "Ahsoka! I'm sorry it took me so long to finish up – politics is a rather long-winded matter, at least in terms of conversation lengths, I'm afraid. Can I help you with something?"
A part of her brain had listened in on the end of the call, trying to catalogue the information mentioned, but the larger part of her mind had been busy looking around the comfortable, warm room she'd stepped into, done mostly in shades of burgundy, purple and dark blue. Thus, Ahsoka shook her head somewhat confusedly at first, then nodded, then shook it again to clear her thoughts. She finally forced herself to settle into the plush armchair, hands resting on her knees, fidgeting slightly as she took in the woman in front of her. Senator Chuchi looked as delicately beautiful as ever, a friendly smile playing openly on her features.
Nothing to worry about, Ahsoka...
She finally found her voice again: "It's no problem, Senator, thanks. The waiting, I mean. Well, anyway... There is, however, a small matter regarding your kitchen, and... and I thought maybe you could help me with something."
There was an amused smile playing across the senator's lips as she answered, as if she was enjoying a private joke. Ahsoka belatedly realised she probably gave a rather bedraggled impression at the moment. "Certainly I can. Do you need something, or should I order Ping out of your way after all? I hope he hasn't been too much of a handful after all?"
Ahsoka shrugged; she wasn't about to disagree when the senator had named one of the issues so candidly. "Well, that's part of it actually, yeah. He... You see... We may have accidentally made a bit of a mess out of your kitchen. Or rather, a part of it. I mean, I've cleaned up the worst of it, but it might be a good idea to have a cleaning droid mop the floor again after we're gone. Just in case."
Watching her counterpart somewhat warily, she was relieved to see the senator's expression turn even more curious and amused rather than stern. Despite knowing Senator Chuchi rather well by now as a humorous person, she hadn't been sure how the Pantoran lady might react to the news. "What, pray tell, did you do? It can't have been that bad, Ahsoka – no need to look like you're about to confess to murder."
The thought of comparing her kitchen disaster to a capital crime finally made her crack up and grin. "Nothing like that, no. Just... Ping dropped half a dozen eggs onto the kitchen floor by accident and now – I cleaned it up, of course, at least the part that landed on the tiles", she hastily added, still not entirely sure how the senator was going to react, "but now Ping looks a bit like a striped and spotted blue egg, himself, and..."
She couldn't finish her sentence, for the senator finally did react to her explanation. Upon listening to her description of the administrative droid, Senator Chuchi started chuckling lowly, her laughs growing ever louder until she was hiccuping with laughter. "Oh, Ahsoka", she finally managed to say, having calmed down somewhat, "you should see your face! Sorry, but imagining Ping looking like..." The senator shook her head silently, trying to reign in her laughter, and rose from her chair. "That, I need to see!"
Shrugging, Ahsoka followed the lady of the house out of her office and into the kitchen, where the senator once more started chuckling in amusement upon seeing Ping still frozen in place, larger and smaller spots of egg white, egg yolk, margarine and floor dotting his once gleaming blue torso like paint. The droid gave a rather indignant, questioning sequence of beeps upon seeing his mistress standing in the kitchen, obviously highly amused at what she was beholding, and not about to do a thing to change it.
"Force, Ping! I think you might be in need of a stint at the droid cleaner's! If Aunt Aya could see you now! Just like...", another chuckle at whatever thought had entered her mind interrupted her speech, "Just like that one winter when I was five and decided to paint you all over with clan marks in yellow glitter colour. Aunt Aya nearly had a heart attack when she saw that particular artwork. Force, I haven't thought of that afternoon in years..."
Which at least explained what Senator Chuchi seemed to think was so funny about a droid looking like he'd been the life target of a child's prank. When she'd finally managed to calm down again, the senator turned to Ahsoka once more: "You know, when I invited you to use my kitchen for baking, I certainly didn't expect you to turn it into one of your battlefields." She grinned at her companion. "But it's really no problem at all. We'll clean up the worst mess of it later, and I'll ask the front desk to send up a droid to do the rest of the work. Nothing a bit of water and soap won't fix. And it definitely makes for an amusing sight, so – don't worry about it, Ahsoka. Okay?"
The Togruta smiled back at her, relieved that she hadn't misgauged the senator. "Okay. Thanks, senator."
"Riyo, please. Or Chuchi, if you prefer to use the official nickname. I think after you've seen me double over with laughter like that, you might as well call me by name rather than rank."
It wasn't an offer she was about to pass up on. Whenever did one gain a friend by dumping their kitchen into chaos, after all? "Alright – Riyo. Why is it an 'official nickname', though?"
The senator – Riyo – just shrugged noncommittally. "Seems a bit like a contradiction in terms, doesn't it? Back in school all the children used to call each other by clan name rather than given name – we were a rather aristocratic lot, and the boys felt important calling each other by their family's name. It was a bit like an implied rank. And the habit has stuck, at least in political circles. Most people call me by my clan name in public, and only use the given name in private, if at all. It's not a name a lot of people are allowed to use, unlike the clan name."
There was a story hidden there, she could feel it, but one Riyo seemed unwilling to share just now. Thus her reply was cheeky rather than questioning, though she tried to subtly express that she realised the gift Riyo had just given her by her offer and her explanation. "Should I feel honoured to be one of the illustrious few, then?"
Riyo caught her meaning, and smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe? It's not every day a great senator of the Galactic Republic permits you to use her first name, you know?" She nodded self-importantly to underline the irony hidden beneath her words.
Ahsoka grinned, then mirrored the gravely serious nod. "Indeed. It's also not every day that said senator has to explain to her friend how to crack an egg without making a mess of things."
The mock-serious expression on her friend's face slipped upon hearing her request. "What?" The word seemed more like a rather dumbfounded plea for confirmation than a real question, so Ahsoka just pointed to the table, where the five eggs she'd taken from the cooler half an eternity ago were still lying next to the bowl, mercifully intact and not subjected to Ping's untender mercies. "Oh."
Riyo shook herself, finally answering the unspoken question Ahsoka had passed her. "Of course. I mean, I will, of course, show you how to crack an egg. Just let me wash my hands and get a small dish, just in case I also mess up, and then we can..."
She started moving towards the sink, then turned back to the table, a perplexed expression on her face. Frowned. Strode over to where the tin of sugar was still standing in the middle of some small piles of white grains. Took another close look at it. Then licked the pad of her index finger, picked up a few grains with it, and tried the stuff, grimacing at the taste, while Ahsoka watched her with one amused and one rather apprehensive eye. "Riyo?"
"Ahem... Ahsoka?" The Pantoran turned back around to her, an amused twinkle lightening her eyes once more.
The padawan looked at her host rather dubiously. What now? "Yes?"
"Did you happen to taste the sugar before you put it into the bowl?"
"Uhm, no – that was Ping's job. The measuring, not the tasting. I just mixed it with the fat and the aromas." The smile on Riyo's face widened into an amused grin once more – which, in Ahsoka's experience so far, could only mean that they'd made another colossal mistake, after wrecking havoc on the kitchen and giving Ping a new paint job. Well, at least the senator seemed to take it in stride. "Why?"
"Care to try the cream for yourself?" She held out the mixing bowl in Ahsoka's direction, who warily, one eye at the senator's still smiling face, scraped a spatter off the rim and tasted the mixture.
"Yuck!" Riyo's good-natured laughter didn't really make her feel better as she tried to get the horrid tang off her tongue. "What happened?"
"Well... You used salt instead of sugar; if you'd handed that cake to your friend, I think she might have doubted if you really meant well, or were trying to poison her instead."
"Oh." Ahsoka's face fell once more. She really was no use baking a cake, was she? Not even testing whatever ingredient Ping just happened to set before her – a part of her felt she should have known better than that. "Sorry."
"Hey." Riyo set the bowl down on the table again and stepped up next to her, giving her a soft smile tinged with friendly reassurance. "No harm done – you couldn't have known. If anything, it's my fault – setting Ping loose in the kitchen with next to no training at all really wasn't one of my brightest ideas. I'll have to tell Miravel to improve his programming in that regard when she gets back – who knows whenever one of us might decide to bake a cream-filled chocolate cake with fruit sauce and four layers. It's probably best not to think about how many eggs Ping is likely to drop on that occasion. We'd really have to paint him yellow afterwards."
The droid gave an indignant beeping noise at the suggestion. Ahsoka scrutinised Riyo for a moment, trying to gauge her expression, her usual high spirits returning upon seeing the twinkle in her companion's eyes. "A cream-filled chocolate cake with four layers?", she asked in mock-skepticism, arms crossed in a show of sternness.
"And fruit! The fruit sauce is the important thing!"
Ahsoka sighed. "We'll need a lot of practice before we're able to do that."
"Then I guess we'd better get started on your marble cake, shouldn't we? One has to start somewhere, after all!" And with that, the senator simply went to a so far unopened cabinet door and put on an apron, throwing another one Ahsoka's way. Talk about incongruencies...
In the end, they did produce a presentable marble cake, discarding the ruined salt-margarine-mix and beginning from scratch. Riyo turned out to be much more proficient at baking than Ahsoka had expected, waving her surprised questions away with a remark on the absolutely inedible food at the university of Athena's main mess hall, and the need to do something relaxing on the evenings when Senate work happened to become too much to bear. Which, she freely admitted, had occurred quite a few times during the first few months of her term here on Coruscant, when the need for comfort food had been greater than usual. By now she had settled in rather well, gotten to know some of the senators, rekindled old friendships, and met new people. Like Ahsoka, for that matter. She'd grinned as she'd said that.
Thus, at the end of the day Ahsoka had left the senatorial living quarters not only with what smelled like a delicious marble cake in hand, but also a new friendship of her own in her heart. Which really wasn't the worst result of an afternoon spend warring with kitchen tools, nuna eggs and clumsy droids.
Not to mention that Barriss really was overjoyed upon receiving a real, home made cake for her lifeday. Even without the icing, which Ahsoka realised too late she and Riyo had forgotten about while talking about all manner of topics the day before. The cake tasted as good as it smelled, anyway – only eating four pieces of it each during their movie night might not have been the most prudent idea, after all.
But well – in the end, that's what lifedays and best friends were for, weren't they?
Marble Cake
1 Bundt cake form
300g butter or unsalted margarine
200g white sugar
3 drops of vanilla essence
6 drops of rum essence / 1 tablespoon of rum
1 pinch of salt
3 eggs
200g sour cream
400g all purpose flour
5 level teaspoons of baking soda
4 tablespoons of cocoa powder
2 tablespoons of milk
100g chopped chocolate (preferably at least 55% cocoa, but milk chocolate works, too)
150g chocolate for the icing
1. Fat the form. If you have a top-bottom-heated oven, preheat the oven to 180°C / 350°F.
2. Beat the butter with a blender with beaters until fluffy; add the essence and the salt and blend them into the butter; slowly add the sugar until you have a smooth cream.
3. Add the eggs one at a time and blend until you have a smooth mix again; then add the sour cream, and again blend the mixture.
4. Mix the flour and the baking soda; then fold the flour into the mix in three parts; blend until you've got a smooth dough. Fill about half of the dough evenly into the form.
5. Add the cocoa powder and the milk to the remaining half of the dough and blend the mixture. Then fold the chopped chocolate into the dough. Fill the dough into the form on top off the light half of the dough, then drag a fork through the two layers in a spiral movement to create a marble pattern. Put the form into the oven and bake for 60 minutes.
6. After taking the form from the oven, leave the cake in the form for ten minutes, then overturn the form and collapse the cake onto a plate. Let the cake cool for a few hours. Heat the chocolate in a bain-marie, then evenly distribute the melted chocolate on the cake and let it cool.
Bon appetit!
Happy Birthday, Your Majesty! I hope you enjoy your virtual marble cake, even though it's a day late! :-)
Well – so much for the first chapter of this series of one-shots related to cooking, baking, eating and Star Wars. For all further information, please see the last chapter of this FF – it'll always remain the same, and be updated each time a new chapter goes online, so if you have any questions, I'd like to ask you to check there first. Thanks!
This is going to be a series of unconnected one-shots set in the Star Wars universe; the only stipulation in terms of theme has already been mentioned above. Updates will be random, and slow, if I know myself at all. When I had the idea for this series, however, it was connected to the thought that maybe, if you people are interested in such a thing, this could turn into a joint effort, or an exchange of stories and recipes, at any rate. So please let me know if you're interested in contributing something, or just post it and let me know where to find it so I can add some new dishes to my recipe collection. :-D
Last, but not least, the most important thing: Ahem, ahem. General disclaimer: I do not own nor gain anything (and most certainly no money) by the use of any recognizable material referred to in this FF. I have indicated my sources to the best of my knowledge in the last chapter of this FF; please consult the bibliography you find there and send me a PM if you think that anything is amiss with that list. If I forgot about anything, I will most certainly remedy that mistake as soon as possible; otherwise please trust me that the remaining ideas in this FF are entirely my own, whatever similarity to works unknown to me they might bear, and do me the same courtesy of indicating this FF in your sources in case you plan on using its content. Thanks!