Night 63: Asbestos, Craypincers (Crayfish) with Chili Sauce
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.
It was said deep within the Sargonian rain forest existed a type of exotic gloompincer. They grew in small streams and other damp crevices, and due to their ferocious nature, their flesh was tender and firm underneath the hard chitin shells. They had since became a widely-known delicacy, and many culinary methods were developed around them. Yet because of this, over-harvesting had greatly reduced their number in the wild to the point of near extinction. There had been attempts at breeding them artificially in many nations of this land, and they had achieved success to various degrees. Even though general demands were met, no matter what people had tried the artificial breed could never match the wild Sargonian strain in taste and texture.
And presently, a large woven bag was placed before the Chef. The dark red craypincers within were restless, poking their large claws through the holes of the bag. He carefully looked over the bag and asked: "You sure these are safe to eat?"
"Hah?" The operator on the other side of the counter raised her voice, then propped herself up on elbows and leaned forward. "Are ya questioning my judgment?! I pried them out one by one from underneath the rocks in streams! Why, ye outta ask around. Nobody can't find 'pincers this size anywhere else in the entire Terra! Not even the Sargonian chiefs could get their hands on them, and I only charge you 16 LMD a pound. Ye should count yourself lucky, wanker!"
There were only a few who would dare to argue with the Chef, not to mention yelling and swearing at him. Asbestos would the the rare one among them. Rather, there were no one she wouldn't yell and swear at on the entire land ship. From the Doctor to freshly on-board interns, almost everyone had had endured her foul temper at some point. There were even times when she made younger operators cry.
"I'm not here to tell little girls bed time stories. If ye want some nice lady to coddle them, go find Magellan or something!" She told Savage and Folinic afterwards, when they came looking to fault her for her wrong-doing.
"You don't have to be like that, you know. Being mean and all." The Chef poured the craypincers into the sink and started cleaning them. "We all see each other on regular basis. If you keep pushing people around you away, what are you gonna do when you need help? Who are you going to turn to?"
"I'm used to being alone." Asbestos huffed. "Don't need no help from those wankers. Besides, I like the way it is. Not like that Magellan who surrounds herself with people. What if something happened to her? They'll all be runnin' around cryin'."
"What a way to live your life." The Chef chuckled. Craypincers usually grew in not-so-sanitary environments, as such they need to be thoroughly cleaned. Afterwards the Chef would carefully trim away about a third of each one of their heads, so the fat inside would melt and flow out when cooked. Then he would twist and pull the mid section of the tail and remove the intestine, and cut each one open along the back for the flavor to seep in during cooking. By then the preparation would be finally done.
Fresh craypincers could be steamed if one wants a taste of its original flavor and zesty flesh. Yet the more common, more well-known way of cooking was to use lots of chili pepper and a variety of spices to make them spicy and salty, with red chili oil staining one's hands and lips. The heavy, oily flavor would also make one drink more - It'd certainly be in the restaurateurs' interest to sell more beer, though whether it was their intention it'd be anyone's guess.
The Chef added in chopped ginger, garlic, chili pepper and Yan peppercorn into the wok along with a large chunk of Shangshu hotpot base - a "gift" left over from one of Nian's visit - then waited. Once the eye-watering spiciness flowed out of the wok and dispersed into the hallway through the specially designed ventilation system, the prepared craypincers would be lowed into the wok and started cooking. The wok sizzled loudly, and the chitinous shell of the pincers turned a tantalizing crimson from dark red in the heat. The Chef then poured in a large can of Landen craft, and added in salt, sugar and black pepper powder to fine tune the flavor. The beer had done its job of masking the fishy smell of the craypincers, and with the alcohol all but evaporated with the heat, only the thick malty taste was left behind. The Chef put on a large lid over the wok, then started making a fresh batch of chili oil in another one.
"What's that smell Boss? it's heavenly!" An operator freshly off their night shift said. They and their friends started gathering around the bar counter. "Hey look, it's miss Asbestos! Getting along with the Boss I see? That's a rare sight you don't see very often."
"Shoo! Scram! Shut yer traps, would ya!" Asbestos cast a mean stare towards them, then looked back to the Chef. "Look at the wankers ye have at yer place! All need a good bit' o whacking!"
"I like them. They are good company." The Chef said, and poured ladles of chili oil into small bowls, then lifted the lid on the wok with craypincers. "Say, if I didn't buy these craypincers, what are you gonna do with them?"
"I'd sold them to Closure. She can take with whatever price then re-sell them however much she likes. I don't care. Stuff good as these, one must be *Rim-billiton swearing* blind not to buy them." Asbestos waved her hand, then pulled out a frosted mug from the fridge to pour herself some beer.
"Heh. Just you watch. She won't buy weird little creatures like these." The Chef, now saw the broth in the wok had thickened quite a bit, poured in a bowl of chili oil along the rim. Then he poured everything in the wok into a large metal tray and placed it on the counter. "It's your lucky night guys. Craypincers straight from Sargonian rain forest, courtesy of miss Asbestos. I would only charge you the buy-in price. 16 LMD per pound."
"Oh oh! I heard about them! Not even the VP of Columbia could have the chance with 'pincers this fresh!" One of the operator exclaimed, then they turned to Asbestos and said "Thank you miss Asbestos! Come and sit with us! Food and drinks are on me!"
"Hah? Free food and drink? Sure thing. Just in the mood for something nice!" She replied, then held her mug and joined the small crowd.
"The way I see it, you are a much better businesswoman than Closure." The Chef said, then took out a large block of Leithanien cheese, held it above the stove and turned the heat to the highest. "Compare to you, she's totally a *Rim-billiton swearing*, heh." The sudden surge of flame singed the underside of the cheese block, and lit if aflame. Just as it was bubbling, about to melt and drip down, the Chef took it to the platter of craypincers and sliced the softest melting layer down and let it dripped onto them, coating the craypincers with a golden layer of cheesy goodness. The operators dug in. They pick up the craypincers, not minding the scalding heat and sucked off the cheese. Then they peeled off the shell and feasted on the red-and-white flesh. It's tangy and sweet, soaked full of the flavour of the spices, and while the wonderful flavor lingered they downed large gulps of beer, staining both the mug and their fingers with the alluring aroma. Some of them were still not satisfied with the spiciness of the food. They would then ask the Chef for a bowl of chili oil, then dipped in the peeled craypincer. Smooth red oil coated the pearl-like flesh, even a sniff would make one unaccustomed to spiciness cough and tear up. Those who would dare thoroughly savor a piece of craypincer flesh like this would certainly earn quite some cheering from their companions.
Thus a round of craypincers and beer came and gone between the operators and Asbestos. One of the operators, licking the red chili oil off his fingers, turned towards Asbestos. "Miss Asbestos, how about share with us your story of catching these 'pincers in the Sargonian rain forest?" Then he looked to the Chef and shouted. "Eyy boss, one mug of Landen craft for miss Asbestos!"
"Certainly, it'd be my pleasure!" Asbestos slammed her mug down on the counter and held her arms down. Acting all mysteriously, she started. "You should know, in the rain forest at this time of the year..."