#babette’s fancy diner
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Kitchen Counter Challah
Kitchen Counter Challah
When you had nowhere else to go, they took you in and asked no questions. You barely spoke to anyone in the two months you stayed in that house, sleeping all day while the family worked, typing frantically at night while they slept. On a good day, you woke up before the Taco Bell down the road closed and had at least one hot meal. Mostly you got by on tea and Cheez Its and cup ramen made with the kettle in your room.
Every weekend, a fresh-baked loaf of challah appeared on a plate on the kitchen counter. You saw it being made once, darting into the kitchen during the day to find it filled with flour and eggs and the sound of NPR on the radio. You scurried back upstairs, afraid to face the people who were being kind to you in case they realized you didn’t deserve it. But baking bread announces itself all throughout the house it is baked in. Every weekend it beckoned you back to the kitchen, warm and tender alongside a dish of butter, soft enough for spreading, and a plastic bear full of honey. There is nothing like the taste of fresh challah with butter and honey when you have been living on Cheez-its since forever.
A few years later you teach yourself how to make challah. You force your roommates to shut up about carbs and eat it, because it gave you strength when you were lost, and you want to share that with your friends by feeding them.
(“Oh,” you think, years after that.)
Challah, shiny egg wash, soft butter, honey.
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This is the story of the aftermath of my dad's death, and how the food was important.
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where you lead, i will follow
previous chapter / chapter six / next chapter
start from the beginning!
ao3 | read my other fics | coffee?
warnings: food mentions, complicated parental relationships, mentions of transphobia and homophobia, verbal fighting, top surgery mention, classism,
pairings: moxiety, logince
words: 5,414
logan's second birthday is altogether a bit noisier, a lot less well-dressed, and with much better food.
patton sends logan out to harass rudy (well, he mentioned maybe going to hang out with roman or talking to rudy, and picking at the errors in the courant won out when rudy managed to misspell something on the front page again) and virgil comes over to help patton decorate, toting the materials he needs to cook/already prepped food from the diner.
"what was his face like, last night?" virgil asks, as he's onto patton's ploy.
"confused," patton says, pleased with himself. "i really think i got him this year, v."
"it is a pretty good plan you came up with."
"hey, you helped too. you have, like. split custody of the plan. we communally raised this plan."
like the person the plan's for, patton thinks, but virgil's cheeks have gone red so he probably gets what patton's hinting at here.
but anyway, they prep the food and douse the house in streamers and patton nearly forgets until—
"oh god."
"what?" virgil says. "we didn't forget anything, we checked twice. but maybe—"
"no, no, not that, it's just," patton says, and chews at the inside of his cheek. "i might have tipsily invited my parents over to the party tonight."
"oh," virgil says.
"i—they've never been to the house before. the inn, a few times, when logan was a baby. the town square, that once. but never the house."
"that's... big," virgil says cautiously.
patton blows out a long breath. "yeah."
"should i...?"
"no way," patton says immediately. "you're staying. you're a part of logan's life too and i need someone to help my frayed nerves."
if your parents and i fight it'll do a lot more than fray your nerves, virgil thinks, but doesn't say. instead, he says, "do we need, like. a plan? backup plan? multiple back up plans?"
patton shakes his head, flattens his hands on the kitchen table. "i just—this is big," he repeats.
"yeah," virgil says.
"it's probably a while coming," patton says, and chews the inside of his cheek some more. "and it's been going so well lately."
"it'll be fine," virgil says lamely, as if he isn't mentally calculating every way this can possibly go wrong, and a few ways it can't.
"right," patton says, and blows out a forceful breath. "right, right. okay," he says, and claps his hands. "crisis over, time to hang up space-themed banners."
they do, and by the time patton's finishing affixing glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling guests are starting to trickle in—roman, who is also in on the plan, first—and patton gets some (logan-approved) music on, and then he kind of loses himself in greeting the citizens of sideshire that he and logan spend the most time with and get along with best.
logan and rudy walk in, to cheers, and patton surreptitiously checks his watch. 7:01. his parents are almost never late. he gets a drink for rudy instead of thinking about it.
logan's staring, eagle-eyed, at the pile of presents that's accrued by the fireplace. roman, cheerfully, is running interference to keep him from going over to shake them, or discreetly peel back a corner of wrapping paper to examine it, or—
roman's running interference, anyway.
someone rings the bell. patton jolts for the door, because there is one person (two people) who would ring the bell for a party in sideshire.
"mom, dad!" he says, smiling, conscious of the fact that he's in a sweater and jeans, casual in a way he basically never lets himself be at their house. he refuses the urge to start adjusting everything to make sure it’s all neat and tidy. "glad you could make it, come on in."
"traffic really is dreadful between our houses," emily says, and they file in.
"grandma, grandpa," logan says, rising from the couch, and suffering through the hugs he receives.
"grandma, look," he adds, and holds out his wrist to display the watch patton had helped emily pick out for him, the one with the galaxy-studded background that reminds patton of the opening theme of doctor who.
"why, it looks lovely," she says, sounding a little surprised that something that cost $13 could possibly look lovely.
"um, everyone," patton says, "these are my parents, emily and richard sanders. mom, dad, this is... everyone."
"hi," the room choruses.
"hello," richard says back.
"i'm emile," says emile picani, local therapist who had helped patton through a number of dilemmas free of charge back in the day, offering the first hand to shake. "we love your son and grandson."
"thank you," emily says.
"they're like our own belle and maurice!"
"without the beast, i'd hope, i don't want my son taken prisoner," patton intercedes, smiling at emile. "mom, dad, can i get you a drink?"
"stoli on the rocks with a twist," emily says.
"right," patton says, and escapes back in the kitchen, mouthing an exaggerated THEY'RE HERE at virgil as he does.
"how's logan?"
"happy," patton says.
"well, that's something," virgil says with a sigh.
"you'll be nice, won't you?"
"i will if they will," virgil grumbles.
"okay, well, their version of nice is different from my version of nice, so—"
"patton, i just tried some of these hors d'ouevres, they're unbelievable," emily announces, bursting into the kitchen. "who is your caterer?"
patton jabs a thumb toward virgil. "you've met him, actually."
she looks abruptly put out that she's complimented him. "ah."
"hi, mrs. sanders," virgil says. he only sounds a little stiff.
"we eat at virgil's practically every day," patton continues.
"something healthy, i hope."
"not if patton was in charge of it," virgil mutters, and patton "accidentally" jabs him in the ribs with a playful little glower.
inexplicably, emily smiles. "he always had a terrible sweet tooth."
"mom," patton groans.
"i have to sneak him his vegetables in a smoothie every morning," virgil says, cautiously friendly.
"virgil!"
"ah. it was waffles, for us."
"it was—wait, what?" patton says, blindsided by this revelation.
"we used to instruct the chefs to sneak vegetables in your waffles for years," emily says. "you never noticed there were seeds in your syrup?"
"okay, first of all, i was nine, second of all, you said they were maple seeds!"
"patton," virgil says, trying not to laugh.
"that's what they were?" patton demands. "i thought it was just that you had really fancy maple syrup or something!"
"patton," richard says, walking into the kitchen, "your fireplace doesn't look structurally sound, i have someone you can call to inspect it—"
"i'll get right on that, dad," patton promises, and passes over the drinks he's poured for them. "come on, we shouldn't all be hiding back here, it's a party!"
"once these are out of the oven," virgil says, and patton sighs but accepts it. not much of a party guy, his virgil. he'll let him have his introvert time but eventually he will come back in here and drag him out to sit in a corner by remy aserinsky, local café owner, supplier of coffee beans to the inn and the diner, and source of an slightly joking, intensely confusing feud with virgil that patton has no hope of tracking, even after almost exactly sixteen years of living in sideshire. (three more weeks, to the anniversary. he and logan and virgil have a little celebration about it.)
"let me know when they're done?" patton requests. "i'll plate them and bring them out."
"sure," virgil says absently, already moving on to prep the next thing. patton squeezes his shoulder, but drifts after his parents to head into the living room.
it's like a veritable merry-go-round of patton introducing people to his parents—or, well, a line actually kind of forms for people to shake their hands, his parents looking increasingly bemused with each. it ends up in a kind of pattern—people shake hands with his parents, wish his son happy birthday, split off into corners of the room to get food or drinks, and then find a place to settle.
"i'm larry, and this is my wife, dot, we live right across the street. such a good pair those are, nothing like my days back with pop-pop..."
"...taylor doose, grocer. very nice to meet you, it must have taken quite the pair to raise someone like your son, such a good man. i hope you're proud of him, we certainly all are...."
"...sookie st. james, i'm the chef at the inn, i really cannot tell you how much i love working for your son, best boss i've ever had, and logan's so smart when it comes to food combinations..."
"...jackson melville. no, taylor, i really think she's more of a meryl streep than a julie andrews, but of course—ow, you don't need to kick me!..."
"...babette dell, and this is morey, and this is our sweet little baby cinnamon." (patton cannot help but reach out to pet and coo at cinnamon, even if he sneezes immediately. stupid allergies.) "we're their neighbors, just on the left side. oh, morey, do you remember the time that logan decided our old tree stump was gonna to be a lightning rod? used to sit in the rain until patton would herd him back inside and even then he'd be glued to the window, waiting, he was such a cute little thing, always running experiments on the plants in our garden, and patton always tagged along as his lab assistant, kept helping us replant anything that got uprooted..."
eventually, patton ducks out of the receiving line. logan looks after him, and he's been splitting his gaze between people greeting him and his pile of presents. patton can't help but wiggle a little bit in glee as he enters the kitchen. logan has no idea.
"those done yet?"
"just about," virgil says. "how're things, out there?"
patton grins. "my parents are being thrown straight into the deep end of the people of sideshire."
"they met ms. prince yet?"
patton's grin widens. "nope."
virgil snorts. "well, good luck to them," he says, and turns back to the oven right as the timer starts beeping, tugging on a pair of oven mitts to pull out the latest batch of jam tarts, before plopping them all onto a wire rack to cool.
"this is the last thing, right?" patton asks, sidling up beside him.
"should be," virgil says. "we've got these, the hors d'ouevres are out, we've got chips and dip, we've got dinner, we've got dessert..."
"then i pronounce you done," patton declares. "thanks for being my caterer."
"i can't believe your mom actually liked my cooking," virgil says.
"well, it's probably genetic," patton decides. "sanders loving your cooking, i mean. logan does, my mom does, i do..."
virgil smiles at him, and it strikes patton very suddenly how close they're standing, without a counter or a table to separate them, the way it always does when they stand like this. so much of their lives are spent divided by a counter, or by patton sitting in a booth, and when they’re together like this, in a space away from everyone watching, in a space where it’s just them...
"plus you're a good cook," patton adds, forging valiantly ahead, trying to make his heart not react.
"am i?"
"the best," patton amends. "the best cook."
virgil's smile quirks at the corners, turns a little sweeter, a little shier, and patton's failed remarkably at making his heart not react.
"well," he says, a little gruff. "thanks. i guess."
"you're welcome, i guess," patton teases back. "we should head out into the living room, i bet logan's practically foaming at the mouth to open presents."
"i want to see the look on his face," virgil says, and double-checks that the oven's off (a habit) before following after.
logan does indeed look about five minutes away from foaming at the mouth. the receiving line's faded, and his parents are floating about the corners of the room—his dad looks like he's about five seconds from bolting, which patton gets, and goes to tug a little at his suit sleeve.
"here," he says, and presents him with a copy of the latest tabloid that taylor doose stocks at the grocery store. "i know it's not exactly national geographic, but there is a story in here about how people who are trying to help climate change are actually shape-shifting reptilian aliens who want to destroy all life on the planet."
richard blinks at it. "logan allows you to have this?"
"logan buys them," patton says with a laugh. "or at least, he makes a beeline for them when we're getting groceries and reads the headlines and gets increasingly gleeful with outrage, so i have to buy it for him, so he can rip it apart without holding up the line."
"ah," he says, and takes it. "well, thank you."
patton refills his drink, before he claps his hands to silence the party, and declares, "presents time!"
logan brightens, straightening up. roman's about to get up to grab his present, but patton wags a finger at him, mockingly stern.
"uh-uh, young man. you're last."
"but—"
"do you remember what happened last time you went first?" patton says, because he sure does. "you go last."
roman slumps back into the couch, mock-disappointed, and emile fetches his present for logan instead.
logan is delighted. logan gets to guess what his presents are (90% of the time, he's right, and 100% of the time, he's at least close enough that he isn't actually very wrong at all) and rip up a bunch of fancily-wrapped paper and monologue at length about it. patton's getting pretty delighted himself, because logan still doesn't suspect a thing.
the presents pile has dwindled down, and it's now the order of people that it's settled into for years.
rudy grunts from the corner, and hands over a tiny box to logan. logan frowns at it, and then at rudy.
"you never get me anything physical," he says, which is true. the usual gift from rudy is a story pitch of logan's choice that he can run on the front page. last year, he'd managed a profile of a chemist at the local state university who'd won some prize or other, and patton had been walking into recreations of experiments on his kitchen table for weeks.
"well, special circumstances," he says, and patton readies his camera, like he's been doing for all the presents.
logan rips off the paper, opens the box, and stares down at it, and then up at rudy, and then down at it again, before lifting up the professional blue lanyard.
"is this—?" logan breathes.
"press pass," rudy rumbles. "it's about time you stop heckling me to do more stories at the state level and do them yourself."
logan cradles the id in his hands, flipping it over to look at the photo—and then he looks to patton, because he surely recognizes where rudy would have gotten a photo from.
"now that you have a driver's license, i figured it would only be fair," patton says. "as long as you don't let it interfere with your schoolwork, which i know you won't, and as long as you don't become a total workaholic, i think you can ask me if you can take the car to run up to the capital if there's breaking news, don't you?"
a massive grin splits over logan's face, and—
"really?!"
"really really," patton promises.
"there's a press conference on monday afternoon, if you're free," rudy begins.
"yes!" logan exclaims. "yes, i'm free, what's the conference about—?"
"i'm forwarding the pr release now," rudy says.
logan's cradling the press id, and slings the lanyard around his neck, like he doesn't want to lose it.
"okay," virgil says, and nudges over a fairly sizeable box. logan gives him a curious look, but reaches over to take it, ripping the star-dotted paper.
he unearths a lamp that displays constellations around the room, and a leather bomber jacket covered with space patches: nasa and galaxies and one little “i want to believe” patch. it’s hand-stitched, but, well. of course it is.
"cool," roman declares, then seems to remember who it's from and coughs. "um, i mean—"
"no take-backs, it's cool," virgil says smugly, as logan's shrugging it on, and smooths over the collar, tugging his press id so it's still front and center. it does look cool. a perfect balance between nerdy and cool.
logan smiles at virgil, just a little—the fact that virgil’s the closest thing that logan has to another dad has been an unspoken truth between them for years, now—and virgil clears his throat, trying his hardest not to look emotional.
“yeah, happy birthday, kid,” virgil says gruffly, and logan’s smile widens.
"we should plug this in," logan declares, holding up the lamp.
"not yet," patton chides gently, "you've still got a couple to go."
logan frowns. "no, just roman's. rudy, virgil, you, then roman. but you've already given me my—"
but he falls silent to see emile and remy carting in two boxes, and—
logan's jaw has fallen open. patton snaps a picture.
"you," he begins, and then, "you—"
"i got you!" patton bursts out gleefully. "for the first time in sixteen years, i have managed to get you!"
logan's jaw is still hanging.
"you didn't really think i'd just get you a puzzle, did you?" patton teases him gently, taking the larger of the boxes and setting it in front of logan.
"you," he says, stunned, "tricked me."
"i did," patton says. "i got a decoy present and i hid the real presents at the prince's apartment—"
logan swivels to glower accusingly at roman, who snickers, holding up his hands.
"—and i got you," patton finishes.
"i," logan says, and then, "i'm—"
"are you mad?" patton checks, suddenly worried that he's pulled one over on his son, and logan doesn't like being made a fool of, but he wasn't trying to do that he was just trying to surprise him, nicely, and logan—
logan just grins at him.
"you've finally managed subtlety for once in your life," logan declares. "i never thought i'd see the day. at last i have taught you something."
"hey," patton chides, but he can't help but laugh. "it might be your birthday, but that doesn't mean you can't get grounded."
logan scoffs and the rest of the room laughs.
"i could!" patton says defensively.
"that boy's never been able to stay in trouble with you more than a day in his life," babette says in the corner.
patton turns to virgil for someone on his team, but he just shrugs, putting his hands up in a don't look at me kind of way.
"fine, i'm a softie," patton declares, "but one who managed to surprise our own logan sanders, modern-day sherlock!"
there's a cheer. logan rolls his eyes at everyone in the room. (one man has escaped to the porch, and one woman is watching this display in the room, feeling very... thrown off.)
"open this one first," patton says, excitedly patting the box. for once, he has managed to surprise his son. he's absolutely over the moon (ba-dum-tsh!) with his success.
logan tears off the paper, and then he gapes at patton.
"no."
"yes."
"no!" logan says, tearing off the rest of the paper to stare in absolute delight at the telescope that patton's bought him—the one he'd gone on and on and on about when it first came out, excited over all the features and its capabilities.
"you like it?!"
"i love it!" logan says, so excited, so openly happy in a way he never lets himself be. patton's heart soars. "but it's way too expensive—"
"i know, that's what i told them," patton teases. "so i hunted until i got a discount."
"it's perfect," logan says lovingly, tracing his hands over the box, looking ready to cart it outside and set up shop to examine the constellations and ignore the rest of the party.
"you've still got another one from me," patton says, holding the smaller one forward. it's still pretty sizeable, but not to an absurd degree.
"dad, the telescope's already too much—"
"hey, it's your sixteenth birthday, that only happens once," patton scolds. "plus this one wasn't very expensive. c'mon, open it."
logan gives him a little smile—soft, private—and looks down, ripping open the paper to see the back of a frame for a poster. he flips it, and he stares.
"it's," patton begins. "it's the way the stars were in the sky, on your birthday. that morning, i mean, when you were born."
"dad," he says, soft, tracing the shiny silver lettering reading november third, the year of his birth, the astrological details of the placement of the moon and the sun, the shiny little five-pointed stars connected into constellations.
"happy birthday, kiddo," patton says. "eight."
logan's lip twitches up. "sixteen," he breathes back, and patton ruffles his hair, just a little, before he backs up closer to the wall makes a gesture at the rest of the room.
"and now, what we've all been waiting for," patton says, and begins a drumroll on his thighs. the rest of the room echoes it. roman hands over his box with a flourish, and logan tears open the paper eagerly.
"what's all this?" a familiar voice asks, and patton nearly jumps. he'd almost forgotten his mother was here.
"roman's present," patton says, in an undertone, but can't explain anymore because logan's lifting the lid off the box eagerly, unearthing a massive, massive sheath of paper. the cover of the book is decorated with roman's lurid doodles of stars, and galaxies, and what look like the gears of a watch, and stickers plastered over any available space.
"doctor who?!" logan says eagerly, and looks up at roman. "you wrote me into doctor who?!!?"
"i did," roman says. "you're a companion."
"with which doctor?"
"please, i know your passionate opinions about the benefits and drawbacks of each doctor better than that. all of new who, obviously, with cameos from the old ones."
logan beams at him, and cradles the papers in his arms, hugging them close to his chest, like it's something precious, something to be savored. and he does: logan has a space on his shelf saved for the birthday stories of years past. roman has to go last for presents, because logan will start reading the story right then and just about ignores all his other presents to get to the end so he can babble happily about it with roman.
logan's staring down at the papers, and roman's staring at him, wide-eyed, like he's seeing an eclipse, or a blood moon, or a meteor shower, or something equally cosmic and amazing, something that you only get the chance to see only every so often and something so beautiful that it stuns you, makes you think about the whole wide universe and everything that is and was and ever will be and how lucky you are to see this, this precise moment.
"what," his mother says, and she narrows her eyes suspiciously at them. even a totally oblivious stranger could see it then, at that moment, and emily sanders is not a totally oblivious stranger. "are they—"
patton taps his finger to his lips, eyes twinkling. later, he mouths at her, and she shuts her mouth grudgingly.
"hang on," virgil says, because he knows that the best way to keep logan from getting completely engrossed in the birthday story is to interfere before he can read it. "hang on, cake!"
"cake," logan says, distracted, and tears his eyes up away from the cover page. roman, similarly, tears his eyes off logan. "right, cake."
virgil ducks into the kitchen, and emerges carrying the traditional cake, stuck with sixteen lit candles, and sets it carefully before logan. patton switches off the lights and takes in a deep breath, and logan only pulls a little face that somehow seems magnified by the light of the candles, the only thing in the room ignited.
"happy birthday to you," the room sings, "happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear, looo-gaaan... happy birthday to you!"
logan huffs a breath, then another one, and patton flips the lights back on as everyone cheers.
"okay, first cut," virgil says, handing over a knife.
"then toast," patton says, "then you can escape to a corner and read your story."
logan smiles at him and cuts himself a large slice, before passing the knife back to virgil so he can distribute the cake equally.
once everyone who wants a slice has got a slice, patton calls out, "okay, everyone, attention please!"
the room quiets.
"okay, i'll keep it short, because we all know how amazing virgil's cake is," patton says. "and technically someone stole the birthday toast on logan's actual birthday this year."
roman grins at him sheepishly.
"so i would like to propose a little toast to the one thing in my life that is always good, always smart, and always eager to take on the whole world. without him, i don't know what my reason would be to get up in the morning. my kiddo, logan. cheers."
"cheers!"
"and now in honor of this very special boy, i invite you all to dig in!" patton declares, and people split off into their own conversations, chattering away.
when the attention's surely off him, logan leans in to hug patton briefly before sliding off the couch to sit in a quiet corner with roman, eating cake and commenting aloud on the story, and patton rolls his eyes fondly at virgil.
he also notices that someone is not standing where she was before—and that that someone is climbing the stairs. patton follows after.
he turns a corner into his room to see his mother, holding up a quilt.
"i made that."
"really?"
"from logan's old baby clothes."
"how nice," she says, blankly, then, "that's quite an assortment of characters you've assembled down there."
"they're great people," patton says affectionately. "i really lucked out on living here, mom."
"that prince boy," emily says. "are they dating?"
"ah," patton says, and sits on the bed, shooting a discreet look out into the hall, before looking up at his mother with the distinct air of someone telling a secret. "no, but—and don't breathe a word to logan that i'm telling you about any of this."
she nods.
"no, they aren't dating, but logan's had the biggest crush on him. for ages."
"really?" she says, even more blankly.
"really," patton says. "i think logan's been in love with him since they were little, and roman's just as hopeless about it."
"really?"
"really," patton repeats, and sighs. "but roman went out and got himself a boyfriend, just last month. asked me about advice, actually, he said that he feels like he shouldn't wait around for logan to maybe like him back when someone he could grow to really like was right there, wanting him, and making moves to want him."
"what did you say?"
patton sighs even more. "i told him that he should have fun and to be careful, and to call me if he did anything that made him uncomfortable."
"did he?"
"he fell asleep without going home," patton says.
"he what?!"
"literally fell asleep, nothing else," patton says hastily, "but that's not like it particularly endeared anyone to that boy, i'm telling you."
"you don't like him?"
"he's part of the reason roman broke my son's heart for the first time, so no, i don't like him. and he..." patton hesitates, huffs out a breath. "you're going to be so smug about this."
"about what?"
"he reminds me," patton says, scowling just a little, "of those boys you always tried to warn me off of, and now that i'm a parent, i don't like them, either."
emily smiles, and patton waves a hand.
"i know, i know, you were right, et cetera, but. that's the situation with roman and logan."
"hm," emily says. then she says, “why were you and logan talking about numbers? when you gave him his present.”
“have we never done that in front of you before?” patton asks, distracted.
“obviously not.”
“huh, i guess. but, um, you know logan’s not the most effusive kid, and i’m a pretty effusive parent. so we made a code so that we could have the best of both worlds in public—i could tell logan i love him without embarrassing him, he could tell me he loved me back without admitting to feeling an emotion.”
“why those numbers, though?”
“there’s eight letters in i love you. and i love you too seems to imply multiplying by two, so—sixteen. eight, sixteen. just some sanders shorthand.”
she blinks, before picking up one of the (many) picture frames that patton has dotting his room.
"what's this?"
patton squints at the photo. "me, mom."
"i know that's you," she snaps, "you're wearing a cast."
"oh, yeah," patton says, and laughs. "yeah, that's when i broke my arm."
"you broke your arm?!"
"yeah, three years ago," patton says. "you know what a klutz i am, i stepped wrong on some ice outside of virgil's diner and now logan and virgil won't let me walk anywhere alone in the middle of winter if i'm not holding onto a railing or someone else, or something."
"i never knew that you broke your arm," she says, and patton can see the way she's drooping.
he's never seen her like that.
"oh, hey, mom," he says, awkward. "it wasn't a big deal, if i got really sick you would have known."
"yes," she says, "well," and sets down the frame. "i should check on your father."
"it was really nice that you came tonight, mom," patton says quietly. "it meant a lot. to logan," he tacks on.
"well, he is my grandson, after all," she says. "i should be here."
patton smiles. "i definitely agree."
he follows her down the stairs, and gets briefly waylaid by refereeing the terms of a feud he doesn't understand, and then gets waved out for being biased, and by the time that's happened patton looks up to see his parents approaching his son, and he hastens over in time to hear richard say "absurd, but entertaining," holding the tabloid back out for logan.
"hey, are you guys heading out?" patton asks.
"we had a lovely time, patton," his mother tells him, with a straight face.
"get that chimney inspected, i've sent you a number to call," his father says.
"well, thank you," patton says. "and i'll get right on that."
logan and patton watch as they leave, and then they both throw themselves back into a night of fun, and friends, and happiness.
(out in the car, emily stares out of the window and is silent for so long that richard has to say her name three times to get her attention. she's too entrenched in thoughts of that cheerfully cluttered house, small and lived in and messy in a way her and richard's house has never been, with frames fighting for space the walls, photos of logan and patton in the midst of stories that emily would have no hope of identifying, of her grandson's first heartbreak she's told about like it's a piece of errant gossip and her son's broken arm that's a funny story and the way patton had looked, here, dressed in that absurd sweater and those terrible jeans and with his hair a frightful mess, talking to that motley crew of neighbors that had been full of nothing but glowing, delighted praise for her son and grandson, the way patton had looked so right here, so comfortable and happy with himself and free, and how securely he has made his own little world and didn’t even seem to notice that she’s been shut outside of it, and the way he squirms and hunches over and avoids her world until he can't anymore, and how she has seen her son smile more in this night than she has since he was very small, and how her grandson had smiled more this evening than she had ever seen from him, and—
"he was right," emily says, choked up, wilting in a way that richard has only ever seen her wilt once, and his stomach plummets. "patton. he's right. he's a mystery to me, and i don't know him at all.")
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gg / 1.02
i want to take a moment to mention how much i love the gilmore front porch as a hangout spot. i love the faded floral couch on the front porch where lorelai paints rory’s nails. i love lorelai’s rack of potted plants (that is there in some episodes).
“i love the rodeo! the rodeo rules!”
i love the songs in this episode. “man who murdered love is a favorite of mine from the gilmore girl soundtrack (yes, i bought it when it first came out, just for the sam phillips la-la-la songs. i even learned to play the la-la riffs on the guitar. there was a whole webpage on the internet devoted to archiving .mp3s of the la-la songs and i had them all downloaded and burned on cds to practice with.) i love “i don’t know how to say goodbye to you” by sam phillips.
i love the classic image from the credits of lorelai running down the steps in her pink tie-dye shirt and cowboy boots and cutoffs while rory waits by the stairs with her arms crossed.
i just love lorelai’s outfit. and emily’s comment: “do you need a ride, or is your horse parked outside?”
“rory’s totally low maintenence. like a honda!”
“i’ve already had the longest day of my life and oh, look, it’s already 10, how nice!”
lorelai goes straight to luke’s to tell him all about her terrible morning and how her fuzzy clock didn’t purr on time. luke rags her about her clothes too.
lorelai’s jeep is so iconic. it’s a major part of the show for me.
now that we’re in the second episode, the gilmore girl looks the way it does for the rest of the series. the living room looks a lot different. why does lorelai have a piano? lorelai admits freely she isn’t musical. i’m betting rory went through a phase where she wanted to learn, until she decided she also wasn’t musical.
when i drove through the washington area of CT, the washington depot area that the internet claims is where stars hollow is based on didn’t resemble it much. there wasn’t a town center like the show - no gazebo - only a post office and tiny sandwich shop. but, there was a fancy private school, which is i guess what chilton was based on, and there was an inn that was VERY similar to the independence inn. but for the town flavor, the other towns nearby were more like stars hollow. especially woodbury - it even had a gazebo, and the little diners, and family owned grocers.
i never liked tristan, but i did feel sorry for him. and now we see paris!! paris is one of my favorite characters because of her character arc and her relationship with rory. it’s much more interesting to me than rory’s friendship with lane. though i love lane too, i just like seeing her relationships with luke and mrs. kim and her band friends grow through the years because mostly her friendship with rory just stayed the same.
“china? wow.” here we get a hint of lorelai’s stiffled desire to travel.
i like drella the harp player, i wish she’d stayed around past the first season.
luke’s NO CELL PHONES sign. this was back in the day before you sat and looked at your phone unless you were playing solitare, mostly you still just talked on it.
babette and maury drinking tea in the garden with their gnomes. “gnome knicking says a lot about a man’s character.” the actress who plays babette was the voice of rebecca from the disney show talespin, it was my favorite when i was a kid.
mick the internet guy is kirk. i like to pretend that it really is kirk, just filling in for this guy mick, and in kirk fashion, he not only takes on the job, he also takes on the identity.
lorelai confronting emily at her salon is a bold move. those people know emily. she probably goes there every week. the hairdresser is the only woman in the world who knows emily’s real hair color. lorelai yelling at her there is super embarressing for emily.
poor lane - when rory leaves stars hollow high, she looses her best friend and has to “notice new people.”
lorelai and rory pausing outside luke’s. “what do you think about luke? is he cute?” and rory immediately saying lorelai shouldn’t date luke, because if they broke up, they could never eat there again. maybe that’s why lorelai never starts up anything with luke for years - because this one time she brought it up, rory shoots it down. and maybe it puts some fear in lorelai’s mind about the idea. because she knows luke is kinda interested - she just came out of the diner that morning with him saying he was glad that she turned down a date from a chilton dad. but rory said no. she can’t go against rory’s veto even if she wants to. and luke is lorelai’s emotional support barista. she tells him all her problems. if they broke up, she’s already got more to lose than just good coffee. but the funny thing is, she doesn’t seem to know a lot about luke himself yet. luke is pretty laconic about his personal life. she learns a lot more about his personal life over the first season. i’d say that over the first season, they go from friendly to actual friends. (with potential.)
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The Best Restaurants In The Hamptons added to Google Docs
The Best Restaurants In The Hamptons
Eating in the Hamptons is all about how you do it: you can find yourself in mediocre, overpriced restaurants full of guys with too much gel in their hair, or, you can do it our way and head to the selection of actually-good places that are worth your time. On the list below, you’ll find everything from taco stands and clam shacks to sit-down restaurants that, while pricey, actually serve great food in nice environments.
Headed out to Montauk? For our separate guide to the best restaurants there, click here.
AMAGANSETT Coche Comedor $$$$ 74A Montauk Hwy
This Mexican restaurant is the best culinary addition to Amagansett in as long as we can remember. Located in an old diner space, there’s also plenty of outdoor seating. Our picks: the ceviche, and the chicken or duck, both of which come with homemade tortillas.
Bridget Elkin Wolffer Amagansett $$$$ 4 Amagansett Square
In the back of Amagansett Square, Wölffer is another option for dinner in Amagansett. It’s owned by Wölffer Estate, whose “Summer In A Bottle” rosés are more ubiquitous than Range Rovers around these parts. The food (kale salad, salmon, etc) is predictable but enjoyable.
Hampton Chutney Co. $$$$ Amagansett
For a quick lunch to go that isn’t a lobster roll, we’re fans of the dosas at Hampton Chutney. This Indian-American spot serves dosas topped with a variety of ingredients from curry chutney chicken to tomatoes and goat cheese. Grab one to bring home or to eat at the picnic tables outside.
Lunch AKA The Lobster Roll $$$$ 1980 Montauk Hwy
There aren’t a lot of things in life that make us happier than a huge lobster roll from Lunch. Not only is this the best lobster roll in the Hamptons, it’s one of the best lobster rolls in the world.
The Clam Bar $$$$ 2025 Montauk Hwy
Just a bit down the road from Lunch, you’ll find Clam Bar. The menu is similar, and while Lunch has the better lobster roll (the one here’s pretty good too, though), we like to come here for everything else - oysters, fried clams, and even whole lobsters. The all-outdoor setting is the ideal place to eat pre- or post-beach.
EAST HAMPTON Carissa's $$$$ 221 Pantigo Rd
Carissa’s makes some of the best baked goods and breads in the Hamptons, which makes it a great spot to pick up lunch. The large Pantigo Road (a.k.a. Montauk Highway a.k.a. “27”) location looks like a cool person’s home in Oslo, and also has a more extensive menu that includes a bunch of salads and bowls. The original space, in a parking lot behind Newtown Lane, is a convenient spot to pick up a sandwich in town. It’s also the only place to get a decent coffee to go in East Hampton’s town. (Some people will disagree, but facts are facts.)
Babette’s $$$$ 66 Newtown Ln
If you want to sit down right in town in East Hampton, Babette’s is the move. Everything here is on the healthy side, with a lot of vegetarian options. Prices are predictably high given the prime real estate, and as a result the crowd is more polo shirts than surf shorts. But for a nice sit-down lunch in town, it’s the best option and the food is always good.
East Hampton Grill $$$$ 99 N Main St
Located just past town, East Hampton Grill is one of the more high-end options in East Hampton. It’s owned by the Hillstone Group, so if you’ve been to a Hillstone or Houston’s, you have some idea of what to expect. The ribs and tuna tartare are go-tos.
Breadzilla $$$$ 84 Wainscott Northwest Rd.
Sandwiches are a necessary beach accessory – almost as essential as flip flops and a 12-pack of Montauk Summer Ale. And you can’t do better than Breadzilla. The menu changes daily, and they always post it online. Also, they open late and close early, so you really have to be efficient and effective when you’re planning Breadzilla runs. Their shrimp salad may be the best shrimp salad in the world.
Highway Restaurant and Bar $$$$ 290 Montauk Highway
As the name indicates, Highway is indeed right on the highway - though the Hamptons version of a highway is a two-way road, so that’s not something to worry about. Situated between East Hampton and Wainscott, Highway is a fairly big restaurant with very good food. The menu kind of jumps all over the place - from farro salad to pork buns to seafood pastas to eggplant parm - but they pull it all off, and this is one of the best nice (but not super fancy places) in the East Hampton area.
The Palm $$$$ 94 Main St
You’re unlikely to ever find us in The Palm in the city (or really in any city, for that matter), but the East Hampton location is a special one. It’s located in the ground floor of an inn on the way to town, and the vibes are more “kind of weird but charming old country club” than “international steakhouse chain.” Obviously, most people order steak, but seafood is a safe bet here too.
The Maidstone $$$$ 207 Main St
While it doesn’t look like much from the outside, The Maidstone is a boutique hotel with lots of character. In past years, the restaurant space was a Scandinavian place called The Living Room, but it’s been renovated, and is now simply called The Maidstone. The menu is now made up of local, seasonal American options like seared Montauk fluke and big fresh salads. So while you won’t find Swedish meatballs or smoked trout here anymore, the food is still very good.
Goldberg's Famous Bagels & Deli $$$$ 100 Pantigo Pl
Goldberg’s are in almost every town here now, and definitely the best bagel situation out East. You want lox. You want cream cheese. You want lots and lots of bagels – particularly a sunflower seed flagel.
Bostwick's Chowder House $$$$ 277 Pantigo Rd
It’s not our favorite restaurant out East, but it’s the one that we wind up going to the most. Bostwick’s is the perfect spot to visit when you can’t decide where else to go, or just don’t have the energy to cook yourself. It’s quick, it’s casual, and the food is pretty good. The menu is seafood heavy, but there’s something fried, grilled, or on a bun for everyone. Our top picks: the hot lobster roll, the seared tuna, and the burrito-sized. fish tacos. There’s also a second location in Three Mile Harbor (north of East Hampton town) called Bostwick’s On The Harbor with great views, though the menu is different.
Cove Hollow Tavern $$$$ 85 Montauk Hwy
Vine Street Cafe is one of the East End’s best restaurants, but getting to Shelter Island is a pain in the ass. Fortunately, the Vine Street team now has a way more central restaurant called Cove Hollow Tavern, in the location formerly occupied by Cafe Max in East Hampton. The food’s a little pricey, but all very good - this is one of the better new restaurants in the area. Unlike most Hamptons restaurants, they actually pride themselves on great service and hospitality here.
SAG HARBOR Robin Lee Sen $$$$ 23 Main St
There have been several high-end sushi pop-ups in the Hamptons over the years, but for a more casual, daily situation, Sen is Sag Harbor’s go-to. We once read that Eric Ripert likes to come here, which is a good sign about the quality of fish. Waits can be long at peak times, but they’ve added a nice garden in the back.
Sag Pizza $$$$ 103 Main St
Sag Pizza is a very welcome addition that sprung up in 2019. They make quality Neapolitan pizzas, and it’s casual and kid-friendly. They’re also selling DIY pizza kits.
Estia's Little Kitchen $$$$ 1615 Bridgehampton Sag Harbor Turnpike
A tiny restaurant on Route 114 between Sag Harbor and Bridgehampton, Estia’s is our go-to brunch spot and it should be yours as well. Breakfast burritos, any of the egg platters, and tortilla soup are all good bets. They also regularly have great specials.
American Hotel $$$$ 49 Main St
A Hamptons landmark, The American Hotel is a classic. Their classic French food is delicious, but their biggest claim to fame is actually their wine cellar, which has many thousands of bottles. Bring anyone who’s into wine here, and they’ll be very impressed. Ask to sit on the porch or in the atrium.
LT Burger in the Harbor $$$$ 62 Main St
Keep LT Burger in your back pocket for the time you’re craving a burger, but don’t want to cook one on your own. Come with the whole family and sit in a big booth, or just sit at the bar with a beer. The milkshakes are good too.
BRIDGEHAMPTON Yama-Q $$$$ 2393 Montauk Hwy
Despite being smack in the middle of Bridgehampton on Montauk Highway, Yama-Q somehow feels like a hidden gem. Come for the good quality, straightforward sushi - purists will be relieved to know the nigiri and rolls here aren’t blowtorched, or covered in mayo sauces and tempura flakes.
Bobby Van's $$$$ 2393 Montauk Hwy
If Yama-Q next door feels quiet and semi-hidden, Bobby Van’s is the opposite. This place is always busy, with people sitting in the street. It’s part of a chain of steakhouses in the city that, honestly, we would probably never go to. But the location out here is fun, and the big, varied menu makes it a crowd-pleaser.
Almond Restaurant $$$$ 1 Ocean Rd.
Almond is another Bridgehampton mainstay. The food is French bistro stuff like roast chicken and escargot, and there’s an extensive raw bar selection. The scene here is also one of the liveliest you’ll find in the immediate area.
Candy Kitchen $$$$ 2391 Montauk Hwy
This is by no means breaking news, but there’s a reason why this landmark diner in Bridgehampton has been around for decades – it’s f*cking awesome. Not awesome like the food is going to blow you away, awesome like a greasy spoon is awesome. Candy Kitchen isn’t the place you go for poached eggs and mimosas - it’s the place you go for scrambled eggs and toast. Their homemade ice cream is the main attraction, and the chocolate fudge brownie is out of this world.
Pierre's $$$$ 2468 Main St.
Right smack in the middle of Bridgehampton, Pierre’s is a French bistro designed to appeal to the Hamptons crowd that spends winters in St. Bart’s. The food is actually really good, and Pierre’s can be a great time if you’re in the right mindset. Just slick your hair back and wear your finest white pants. You’ll fit right in.
WATERMILL Suki Zuki $$$$ 688 Montauk Hwy
Most people come to Suki Zuki for two things: the spicy tuna sandwich and the chicken teriyaki salad. The former is basically a spicy tuna roll in the shape of a triangular tea sandwich, while the latter is a finely chopped salad with chicken, wonton strips, and a tangy dressing. Overall, this is an easygoing sushi place with reasonable prices on the one-block strip known as the town of Watermill. Expect a wait at prime times on Friday or Saturday nights.
Bistro Ete $$$$ 755 Montauk Hwy
Located in the back of the Watermill Commons (right next to SoulCycle), a husband and wife team are cooking delicious French-inspired Mediterranean food at this new-ish restaurant. It’s charming, laid-back, and off the radar, which is the opposite of all other Hamptons restaurants.
SOUTHAMPTON Sant Ambroeus $$$$ 30 Main St
Southampton is home to several NYC sceney restaurants filled with people who eat in these same restaurants in Manhattan. Sant Ambroeus, which also has locations on the Upper East Side, in Nolita, and in the West Village, is one such place. People come here as much for the scene as the food, but the food is pretty good. You can’t go wrong with the pasta or veal milanese, and you can also pick up panini and ice cream to go.
Tutto Il Giorno $$$$ 56 Nugent St
Tutto Il Giorno is owned by Donna Karan, and also has locations in Tribeca and Sag Harbor. The Southampton location has a pretty outdoor seating area, and serves nice summery/coastal Italian food.
HAMPTON BAYS Cowfish $$$$ 258 E Montauk Hwy
Sag Pizza is a very welcome addition that sprung up in 2019. They make quality Neapolitan pizzas, and it’s casual and kid-friendly. They’re also selling DIY pizza kits.
QUOGUE Stone Creek Inn $$$$ 405 Montauk Hwy
For a nice, potentially romantic dinner in the Quogue area, Stone Creek Inn is the area’s best fancy restaurant. They have an excellent outdoor setup this summer that involves tents, string lights, and plenty of distanced tables.
Dockers Waterside $$$$ 94 Dune Rd
This place by the water also has lots of outdoor seating, and views to go with it. They serve all the raw bar and cooked seafood you’d expect, some of it with a twist like “everything bagel-crusted salmon.”
Beth’s $$$$ 48 Quogue St
Beth’s is a breakfast and lunch spot, serving pastries and egg dishes as well as salads, sandwiches, and smoothies. Use it for daytime takeout in the area.
WESTHAMPTON John’s Surf Shack $$$$ 540 Dune Rd
If summer to you sounds like lobster rolls and delicious fried things you can eat with your hands, you’ll be very happy at this super casual spot in Westhampton. There isn’t much else like this between here and Montauk.
via The Infatuation Feed https://www.theinfatuation.com/new-york/guides/hamptons Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://trello.com/userhuongsen
Created July 30, 2020 at 04:42AM
/huong sen
View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF
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Crêpes Babette
A semi-original recipe from your favorite weird diner:
For crêpes:
3 tbsp melted room temperature butter
1 cup AP flour
1 tbsp sugar
Pinch salt
¾ cup room temperature whole milk
½ cup room temperature water
2 room temperature eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp Grand Marnier
1 tsp orange zest
For sauce:
3 tbsp cold butter
1 tbsp honey
¼ orange juice
1 tbsp Grand Marnier
1 tsp orange zest
½ cup light cream or half & half
Add all crêpe batter ingredients in a bowl and beat with a whisk or immersion blender till completely smooth. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes while you make the sauce. For sauce, heat the butter, orange juice, Grand Marnier, and honey together on low heat for ten minutes till reduced. When sauce coats the back of a spoon, add the light cream and orange zest and reduce over low heat again, until desired thickness is reached. Set sauce aside in warm place and use a ¼ cup measuring cup to ladle the batter out of the bowl and into a non stick skillet. Rotate skillet to spread batter evenly and cook on medium heat until both sides are golden.
To serve, fold each crêpe into quarters. Arrange in a line on a plate, points down, and top with a generous streak of orange sauce. Garnish with additional zest, a dusting of cinnamon, orange slices, and fresh blueberries.
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4 pm grilled cheese: You are a teenager returning home from school on a yellow school bus. Your dad used to drive you, but you're too old for that now. Kids your age are self-sufficient, right? But as you walk down your street, someone waves to you from their front window. It's Mrs. Guttierez, who used to take care of you when you were small. "You got so tall!" she exclaims.
She invites you inside and makes you the same grilled cheese sandwich she made every day for lunch the summer before you started third grade. Only after you leave her house do you remember that Mrs. Guttierez died when you were 12. There is still a trace of sandwich grease on your fingers.
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Kielbasa Cajun Rice
Kielbasa Cajun Rice
1 lb kielbasa (beef, pork, or plant based)
1 cup cooked brown rice
1 cup chicken stock, heated
1 small zucchini
1 red bell pepper
1 shallot
2 cloves of garlic
½ cup fresh parsley
1 tbsp sour cream
Parmesan cheese to taste
Seasoning of choice (garlic power, onion powder, and Cajun seasoning mix recommended)
In a lightly oiled pan, sautee the sausages until browned, then remove from the pan. Sautee the diced shallot for one minute, then add the garlic, celery, bell pepper, and zucchini. When vegetables are tender, add sausage again, then add seasonings to taste. When everything has cooked together for a bit, add warm stock to the hot pan to deglaze and create a rich broth. Stir in sour cream, then add the rice and the fresh chopped parsley and Parmesan to taste.
(eat @ babette’s)
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Potatoes Primavera
4 large baking potatoes (Russets)
mixed fresh vegetables (carrot, broccoli, red pepper)
FOR SAUCE:
2 cups chicken broth
Cream cheese or Boursin
Fresh herbs (dill, parsley, cilantro, etc)
1 shallot
2 cloves garlic
splash of half & half, or whole milk
Italian cheeses, shredded
BAKE POTATOES:
Wash potatoes. Make a bowl of salty water and dip clean potatoes in it. Pierce potatoes on all sides with a fork and bake on a tray at 425 F for one hour. Remove and immediately slice off the top off the potatoes, squeezing to break up potato innards. When cool enough to handle (but still warm), spoon the innards out of the skin into a bowl, mash with fork or masher, and return to the inside of the potatoes.
STEAM VEGETABLES:
Chop vegetables into bite size pieces. (Optional: cutting red pepper into strips and roasting them on the baking sheet with the potatoes for 20 minutes.) Add vegetable pieces to a saucepan with small amount of boiling water, put the lid on, and allow vegetables to steam about 10 minutes or until fork tender. Drain remaining water and set vegetables aside.
MAKE SAUCE:
In the bottom of a saucepan, cook minced garlic and shallots in butter for two minutes. Add broth and bring to boil, then turn heat to medium simmer. Add cream cheese or Boursin to broth in chunks, whisking or using an immersion blender to produce a smooth texture. Add salt and pepper to taste, then all chopped green herbs. Stir together, adding milk or light cream if desired for consistency. When you are happy with the sauce, add all the steamed vegetables to it and stir until well coated.
ASSEMBLE POTATOES PRIMAVERA:
Line up the potatoes on the baking sheet. Top all the baked potatoes with generous spoonfuls of saucy vegetables. Top with shredded Italian cheese to taste, and place baking sheet under the broiler. Check the potatoes every two minutes and don't let them burn. (If you aren't familiar with the eccentricities of your broiler, check every 30 seconds.) When you're satisfied with the golden brownness of the cheese, the potatoes are done. Let cool ten minutes before serving.
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Abomination Casserole:
Your mom is from the Midwest, so when the rapture comes, you're prepared. After all, you have a pantry. No matter how far you ran, you couldn’t leave your culture behind you. Fresh vegetables haven’t been available in weeks, and tonight you’re down to your last onion and half a bag of frozen mixed veggies. There’s still some fresh dairy, but everything else is canned, dried, bagged, or powdered. This casserole, you decide to christen Abomination Casserole, both because of Revelations and because you have done something truly unholy by bringing it into the world.
In a large mixing bowl you combine egg noodles, chopped onion, canned cream of mushroom soup, sour cream, canned tuna, frozen peas and carrots, Hidden Valley Ranch seasoning mix, and shredded cheese. When everything’s wet enough, you scrape it into a 9x12 and bake. The result is a tuna noodle casserole so dense, so cheesy and tangy and herby, so exactly like a sour cream and cheddar potato chip dipped in ranch dressing but as a casserole, that it’s for the best the world is ending. No one should ever eat this. No one should ever know about this.
Of course, you take personal responsibility for destroying the evidence. It can’t harm you. If this casserole proves just one thing, it’s that your mom was right all along: you really are the antichrist. Hail Satan and pass the garlic bread.
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4 AM Ramen
4 AM Ramen: You hate when people say that you “sleep all day” in that tone of voice. You’re not lazy, you just get more done when you work at night. You also hate when people say you need to buy groceries like an adult and stop eating ramen all the time. How are you supposed to explain that every time you go grocery shopping this late at night, you feel like you’re in danger of getting permanently lost in the aisles? They all blur together, endless walls of brightly colored boxes and bottles and jars and bags. Or maybe your eyes are just getting tired. The path you trace with your cart is hypnotic and soporific, like maze walking. The last time you went out after midnight to pick up bread and coffee, you found yourself blinking awake in the parking lot at 6 am as the sun rose. In the passenger seat next to you was a large reusable shopping bag filled with 32 bricks of ramen, spanning 11 different flavors and types. You haven’t been back to the grocery since. But that’s okay. People who think ramen is kid’s food just don’t understand flavor.
Three seasoning packets go into a pot of water (roasted chicken, picante chicken, creamy chicken), along with soy sauce, ginger-garlic, fish sauce, chopped scallions, minced garlic, mirin, roasted sesame oil, and sriracha. You add the noodles to the broth and cook two minutes for a springy texture. Top with a slice of American cheese, one egg fried crisp around the edges, cilantro, and the green end of the scallions. Top with leftover Taco Bell fire sauce packets.
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A basic soup recipe from your favorite nonexistent liminal diner:
Vegetable Soup + Cheese Toast
For soup:
6 cups chicken broth, stock, or bouillon water
2 celery stalks
1 big carrot
1 white or yellow onion
2 cloves garlic
1 tbsp butter or oil
½ cup light cream or whole milk
1 tbsp AP flour
Herbs: A few chopped tablespoons each of: dill, parsley, cilantro, basil
A sprig each of rosemary, thyme, sage (if using dried herbs a pinch of each wil do)
Garlic powder
Onion powder
Optional:
A big handful of raw spinach
Sausages sliced into coins and fried crisp
For toast:
Your favorite toasting bread
Shredded or sliced cheese of your choice
MAKE SOUP: Dice the carrot, celery, and onion into small, uniform pieces, and mince the garlic. Put your stock pot on medium heat and add the butter and the chopped vegetables. Cook 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Dust the surface of the vegetables with garlic powder and onion powder, and then add the stock. (If using bouillon, add 6 cups of water and then 4-5 cubes.) Add half of the fresh chopped herbs and all the woody herbs. Turn heat to high to bring to a boil, then lower heat until soup is simmering. Put the lid on the pot and let it cook for 20 minutes.
MAKE TOAST: There’s hardly a wrong way to make cheese toast, so use your preferred method if you have one. Mine is to toast my bread slightly (or use slightly stale bread), then cover in shredded cheese and broil until caramelized and bubbly. How long that takes depends 100% on your broiler. If you’re not familiar with your broiler’s quirks, put your toast on a baking sheet, put it under the heat, and leave for one minute. If the toast isn’t done to your liking, put it back in but check it every 30 seconds—it takes very little time for toast to turn into charcoal under a broiler.
FINISH SOUP: After your 20 minutes are up, kill the heat and immediately whisk your flour into the broth for about a minute. Then do the same thing with your light cream. Taste the broth to see if it needs salt (if it does, add it in very small quantities, stirring and tasting between each addition.) Add black pepper if desired, and toss in the rest of your fresh herbs, along with your protein add-ons (sausage and/or spinach) if you want them.
Soup always tastes better after it’s sat awhile, so it’ll taste better tomorrow than it does today. But you should have a bowl now while your cheese toast is hot.
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On my birthday last January, my girlfriend and I watched one of my favorite movies, Babette’s Feast. Our first anniversary was coming up the next month (our anniversary is Valentine’s Day, we’re very gay) and I, inspired by Babette, decided to cook a 7 course formal dinner of French vegetarian and dishes (with a pescatarian main course). It was a great success on a culinary level, and it also pretty much spawned this whole idea of mine to create an imaginary diner to write stories about. The recipes and food descriptions matter because what I really want to do is bring people together and feed them. The result is this weird liminal sanctuary diner in digital space where I show you pictures of the food, lavishly describe how it tastes, and also give you the recipe in case you have the desire and resources to make it for real.
In this post, my Babette serves up dinner while telling you the story of Babette’s Feast (it’s her favorite movie too.) It’s not really a review; I wouldn’t even call it a recap. It’s storytelling, devoid of pretensions to literary criticism. I only want to write about stuff I love so I can tell you why I love it. I like to think this means I’ve grown up.
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Trying to record all of The Proprietress on the TikToks, but you can read it if you don't want to wait.
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The Darkest Blend:
You were so young then. You believed in so much. Politicians who stood for real change. Love. Your own talent. But no matter how naive you were back then, one thing is certain: you were better at making friends.
Fifteen years have passed since you last had coffee here with the whole gang. You can almost see them, bent over textbooks and laptops and newspapers at their tables. Sometimes you all left the coffee shop together and got dinner at the Thai place next door. Everyone you cared about back then, everyone you hoped with and laughed with and campaigned alongside has long since moved on. You sit outside at a wooden table under an umbrella and watch college students pass by, briefly indulging that complicated tangle of fondness and rage that youth and innocence inevitably inspire in those who have lost both. You haven’t done so bad for yourself, right? You haven’t wasted all that potential.
Dejected, you look down into your cup. The face that looks back at you from the surface of the dark liquid is not your own, but the face of your friend Sunny, who you last saw at this exact table, years ago. She waves up at you, grinning hugely. The resolution is clearer than a Zoom call. “Oh my god, you cut your hair!” she exclaims. You start to tell her how happy you are to see her again, but a breeze causes a ripple to form in your coffee. Sunny’s face warps, then vanishes. You wait awhile before a barista doing the rounds outside takes pity on you. “It’s a seasonal promotion,” they explain. “Oh, I see,” you say. You sip your coffee, which now looks nothing like your friend. It’s gone cold.
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Babette’s Jukebox #1
The jukebox at Babette’s Fancy Diner is a little unusual. First of all, it chooses the music it wants to play. If you feed it coins it will take your requests under consideration, but if the jukebox finds your taste in music lacking, or if you play silly games with your selections, you might just find that you’ve lost your quarters. The last person who tried to play “What’s New Pussycat” more than twice in a row got zapped by the coin slot…
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