Day 24: La Pluma, Ceviche with Tortilla Chips
The Late Night Diner is a part of Rhodes Island's canteen. That goes without saying – to whom had anyone ever heard of a diner in the boiler room?
As the name implies, it opens around midnight. There are only a handful of customers at a time.
Operators off their night shift could take an order and bring back to their quarters. Night owls could sit dining-in while leeching off the Diner's wi-fi. The Doctor would come for instant noodles from time to time.
Drinks are in the cooler. Anyone burdened by their own thoughts could take one and chug it down, anytime.
Menu? No such thing exists. What the Chef prepares is what you get. It all depends on his mood of the day.
Welcome to the Rhodes Island Late Night Diner. In here, you might even meet a familiar face or two.
For a better (and safer) pool side experience, Rhodes Island assembled a team of volunteer lifeguards.
"Hey you, you there doing the underwater swimming. Watch out not to get stepped on." On the tall lifeguard chair was Jaye. From his tone he appeared reluctant for the job, although he had indeed prevented quite a few accidents in the past few days.
"Hmm, shouldn't there be pretty girls' attention coming with the job?" With a sullen face he looked towards the other side of the pool. A group of operators was practicing the basics of swimming techniques on the side of the pool, men and women alike. Might need to look more cheerful next time, he thought.
Jaye had overthought it. The one who was teaching the group was La Pluma. If there was a popularity contest on the land ship, nobody could even come close to complete with her. Nobody.
"Please fully stretched before going into the pool. Like this." La Pluma instructed the group with a small megaphone, then performed a few simple warm-up exercises. "Also, the pool side floor is slippery. Please don't run too fast. You could fall!"
"Awwwww, she's so cute!" The female operators put their hands on their chest and looked at her. They smiled as if seeing a lovely little cherub.
"Awwwww, she's so hot!" The men, looking at her attractive figure that barely befitted her age, exclaimed. The light, two-piece swim ware brought out her feminine charm perfectly, and many men among the group had wondered who would be the future lucky guy that would capture her heart.
When the morning class ended, La Pluma would usually have a simple meal at the Chef's stalls. Although the Chef was working for Closure in a sense, the rules from the Diner were still carried over to the decks, including Do not insist an order on the Chef. A scalebass freshly prepared by the Chef was placed in the display cabinet. It was caught and shipped exclusively on board by the aircraft "Bad Guy".
"Ceviche." The Chef was cutting the scalebass in half along the spine when he saw his customer. "Stimulating and refreshing. Also comes with freshly-made tortilla chips. A good fit for a lovely lady like you." He recommended.
A hue of rose bloomed on La Pluma's face. "Um...Thank you." She said shyly.
The quality of the meat was near perfect. The light pink flesh was marbled with snowy marks of fat, making it look almost artistic. The Chef carefully pried off the bones, then cut the meat into thumb-length chunks and put into a glass bowl for marinating. He added shredded onion, chopped green peppers, some peppercorn and a few halved cherry tomatoes. Then he took out a few calamansi. Underneath the emerald skin was the yellowish green, translucent flesh, and with a single swing of the kitchen knife, a few droplets of the juice flew out and landed on the cutting board. The sour scent with a hint of sweetness immediately flowed out. After having the seeds removed and squeezed, the fresh calamansi juice was poured into the bowl as the main ingredient for marinating. It could both rid the stink of the meat and tenderize it, at the same time setting the anchoring sweet-and-sour flavour for the entire dish.
After adding diced avocado, a pinch of salt and minced coriander leaves, the Chef mixed everything in the bowl then left it to sit for a few minutes. Finally, he poured out the extra juice in the bowl and plated it. The tender meat, the green avocado, and the red tomatoes – just from the colour alone would stimulate one's appetite. Ceviche was famous in both Iberia and Bolivar. Some towns in those counties would even designated certain days of a week to be the "Ceviche Day".
La Pluma picked up a chunk of scalebass meat with a fork. The meat was thick with the alluring salty aroma of some faraway waters, and was refreshing to the taste. The light yellow calamansi juice coating the meat gave her a jolt of fruity sour that spread from the tip to the base of her tongue. With her mouth watering and teeth tingling with slight soreness, she took another chunk of meat with a halved cherry tomato. Somewhat overshadowed by the strong sour taste of the calamansi juice, the tomato tasted surprisingly sweet. With juicy pulp and sprinkles of soft seeds slid down her throat, she put her hands around her face and happily smiled.
As for the avocado chunks, they were not her favourite. Though she told herself that she had to have at least one for the sake of the hard work that the Chef had put into preparing the dish. Once the sourness of the calamansi juice was gone, the avocado chunk instantly tasted bland. Along with its fatty and slickly texture, she simply swallowed the chunk whole with some reluctance.
She turned around towards the pools. After scanning a few moments, La Pluma picked up her small megaphone.
"Brother—" She yelled.
From the crowd in the pool a head with blonde hair poked out of the water. Its master waved at La Pluma's direction.
"Avocado for you –" She yelled again, and picked up a chunk and tossed it towards the pool.
Tequila in the pool stretched his head and opened his mouth wide. He caught the chunk in mid air, along with a huge wave of pool water.
"No dangerous activity in the pool!" Jaye on the lifeguard chair shouted at him.
"And don't play with my food." The Chef brought a plate of tortilla chips to La Pluma, and playfully put on a angry face.
Of course, he wouldn't really get mad at the girl. Nobody aboard the land ship would be mad at La Pluma. Nobody.