Night 54: Ptilopsis, Steamed Rice with Assorted Ingredients
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.
The Paramony was close at hand. During this time of the year, most of the food brought in by the Logistics would be used for that evening's feast and the upcoming New Year's Eve banquet. Although it would soon be filled with people in the upcoming holiday, on nights before such as this one, the Diner's had been seeing quite a sharp decline of its usual flow of customers.
"What would you like tonight?" The Chef greeted his only customer at the front counter without raising his head. "Got only a few things in the fridge for a couple of days, so in the meantime I can only make something simple."
"I would like some snacks for children." Came an emotionless voice. It resembled the synthetic vocal of the PTRS system. "Trans-fat, sugar and sodium content within Miss Closure's stock had far exceeded the daily recommended level for children. It is inadvisable for them to consume."
"Yeah, I heard you. Her snacks are indeed rather unhealthy." The Chef muttered while opening up the fridge, and took out a small dish of biscuits. "As for me, most if not all the food stock were used up by the Canteen for the Paramony and New Year's Eve banquet. I only have these much left for snacks. Not sure if it's enough for Ifrit. Though you should check with the Canteen starting tomorrow. They will have quite some dishes and pastries prepared in the next few days, and she can have whatever she wanted then."
The Chef put the biscuits into a small bag, and Joyce politely took it from his hand. Though looking at her placid eyes and emotionless face, the Chef quietly mused that in terms of dampening one's personality, Rhine Labs was unfortunately on par with Rhodes Island.
"According to the health management plan for Ifrit drafted by Dr. Silence, these biscuits would last her for more than eleven days." Joyce offered her analysis in quiet contemplation. Yet she showed no sign of turning to leave. When the Chef found her standing still before the counter after a round of cleaning in the kitchen, he cast towards her a tentative gaze.
"Through analysis of data acquired from the ship-wide forum posts and cross-examined with the opinion of other operators and patients, I believe you possesses superior skill in culinary arts. Therefore, I would like to engage in leaning activity with you." With that said, Joyce took a stool over and sat down, placing her hands on the counter like a student waiting for her instructions.
"Learn cooking from me?" The Chef was rather perplexed. Yet there were no other customers in the Diner, and he had indeed free time on his hands. It'd be a welcoming distraction to have a few words about cooking with this lady researcher of the Rhine Labs.
"So, what do you want to learn? Baking cookies or making Columbian hamburgers?"
"Negative. A search in the database yielded an abundance of recipes from all nations of Terra. Through comparison and analysis of the data received, the success rate of reproduction was well above 67%." Joyce shook her head. "Moreover, Ifrit is in the final examination phase of her course of learning, and Dr. Silence had newly acquired analytical assignments from the Department of Originium Research. Thus, I would require a recipe that would be highly efficient in preparation and enough to satisfy the need of three or more people."
The Chef's expression grew serious. He had clearly underestimated this analyst, or rather, this human computer's computational prowess and memory. But it only took him a moment's notice to collect his composure, and took out a plain electric rice cooker from the bottom of the storage shelf. With a few large cups of rice poured into the cooker, the Chef opened up the fridge while waiting for the water to fill from the tap. He took out half box of green peas, a quarter length of a carrot, two whole fowlbeast wings and a single Lungmen-style sausage, then placed them on the cutting board.
"I cannot detect any close correlations between these ingredients." Joyce said, tilting her head. "After comparing with existing recipes in the database, they could combine to form more than thirty-three different dishes. Yet considering the amount present, none could satisfy the criteria of a meal for three."
"Miss Moore, have you ever cooked anything yourself before?" The Chef inquired. He had already washed the rice and put it aside. Currently he was cutting the carrot into chunks.
"I had two previous attempts at baking chiffon cake following its recipe." Joyce recalled. "Though the level of reproduction was high, Dr. Silence still recommended me to 'try my hands on other hobbies'. Considering it did not result in any serious damage to the kitchen of my tenement, I could not understand Dr. Silence's meaning."
"Let me guess. You must have followed the recipe strictly to the letter." The Chef said, and put the prepared ingredients in a small dish. "If a fowlbeast egg had 37 grams of egg white and the recipe asked for 35 grams, what will you do?"
"Weigh it with electronic scale and remove the excess with eye dropper." Joyce replied. "Dr. Silence stopped me when I was attempting this action."
"Heh. It'd be odd if she didn't." The Chef beckoned for Joyce to join him in the kitchen. She walked inside, bundled her hair into a bun, then washed her hand thoroughly following the standard procedure of the Medical Department. Finally, she walked up to the Chef and watched him pouring out extra water from the rice cooker.
"Look here. Compare to doing experiment, cooking isn't an exact science." The Chef pointed to the water line inside the cooker. "More water makes more tender rice, less meant the rice will be firmer. The dish I am making tonight carries the same idea – you can add whatever you have in your fridge. If you want something spicy, add in chopped hot pepper. If you want more meat then slice more sausages. Seasoning takes a lot liberty, too. You can add any seasonings you want…. well, except maybe vinegar." The Chef quietly chuckled. He added two teaspoons of salt, some soy sauce, a glob of sticky oyster sauce and a sprinkle of Acahuallan chili powder. "It's all up to you. No fixed ingredients, no recipe."
Joyce watched thoughtfully as the Chef closed the lid and pressed down the start button. She nodded. "This dish draws close resemblance with one listed in the cookbook titled Twenty Household Dishes for a Yan Housewife. Although it was not as flexible as you had demonstrated. I will certainly attempt with leftovers in my fridge for Ifrit once an opportunity present itself."
"Not bad. Are you going to wait for it to cook? It's still going to take half an hour to forty minutes." Looking at her drooping eyelids, the Chef waved his hand before her face. "You look a tad sleepy."
"Negative. There are only sixteen minutes left before bed time. Considering washing and other necessary procedures before bed, as well as the time required for Ifrit's bedtime story, I must proceed to the living quarters immediately. Thank you for your guidance this evening." With it said, Joyce turned and headed straight out of the kitchen. The Chef, watching her leave, sighed. "In quite a hurry I see…But who am I going to serve my food to?"
Even well after the rice was done and the pleasant scent of carrot and meat flowed freely in the air, there was not a single customer coming to the Diner. The Chef glanced the empty dining area and shook his head. In just about seven hours the Canteen staff on early shift would start decorating the entire place to fit the festival holiday spirit. It would be completely transformed.
Bet that would really be something else, the Chef thought. He filled a large bowl of steamed rice with meat and vegetables. Just for myself.
The soy sauce and oyster sauce had coated the rice a tantalizing shade of amber, in-between lay the tender carrot chunks, green peas and succulent fowlbeast wings and sliced sausages. The rice tasted salty and savory, with a hint of spiciness from the chili powder, combined with the rich aroma coming from the sausage slices, he quickly finished the bowl and was ready for another fill.
Ah what the hell, he thought. I am plenty busy tomorrow night, might as well give myself a break for now.