Author's Badly Veiled Recipe - Tumblr Posts
"Come, sit down, I'm making-"
2am is a peculiar time in Shadow Company: some are fast asleep to face the coming day, some are staring at their ceiling, and some are still out and about. Of course, some members would hold roles that involve active duties past midnight.
However, some are avoiding the Sandman for different purposes entirely. Depending on the Shadow, some spend their time outside, watching the sky and, perhaps, indulging in a vice - whether that be smoking with the stars, or sharing a drink with past ghosts.
Others remain inside, though their bodies still as active as ever.
Communal kitchen, 2am. Or, he assumed it was communal, anyways.
Half of the ingredients he practically smuggled in himself, the other half he found unopened at the back of the cupboards. Unlike prior occasions, Moth's basically eyeballing it all the best he can with sleepy eyes.
Ingredients he's smuggled in include: glutinous rice flour (it looks so genuinely suspicious underneath his bed - wrapped in plastic, double bagged and it still left some remnants behind), coconut milk (oddly enough they had coconut cream, but not the milk itself) and cheese (cheddar - the fridge had an opened pack of American cheese, and processed cheeseburger slices). They're all spread out neatly and within arm's range.
Everything else - the eggs, butter, sugar and evaporated milk - was located in a couple minutes. To his surprise, he found some frozen banana leaf jammed deep inside the freezer. In case it belonged to anyone else, he took as little as he thought he needed. He'll ask about ownership later.
Sure, the normal recipe would call for more ingredients, but that would involve more smuggling, and Moth isn't in a position to ask Graves about the rules regarding what can and can't be kept in the pantry- turn the music on and start anyways.
'Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wondering in the night, what were the chances...'
He lets the speaker take over the singing, silence being filled with sound: an old friend got him hooked on the tradition; before him it was himself and the quiet.
The recipe, how he remembered it anyways, was simple to follow. Having preheated the oven, he spent some time cutting up the banana leaf a little to fit the dimensions of the tin he found. Lining it with care, humming along to the music, and generally enjoying his night. This. This is his vice, in a sense.
Rhythmic cracking and whisking of eggs, he barely needs to measure how much flour he needs at this rate. Stabbing open the cans with a knife because he recalls how the can opener was recently broken. No questions about it. Sugar, butter- it all gets mixed in one glass bowl he rinsed in the sink.
It's fine. He'll clean up after himself once he's done. He stands, in his own bubble, whisking away. The batter needs to be rid of lumps, but not too overdone that it turns out wrong.
It's admittedly quite... domestic in the kitchen, a rare mercy when it comes to the culinary sphere in Shadow Company. He pays no attention to the busted up microwave, after all. He could stay there all night and bake if he wanted to-
"Ah! Kinam- er- good evening-" The music was too loud and he wasn't fully alert when the kitchen door swung open. Now some Shadow is standing there wondering what Sergeant Moth must be up to past midnight. Cradling a bowl in one arm and whisking away like a housewife, sunglasses pushed up on his head and mask covering up the microwave. Lord, he has an apron on too.
...Before they could ask, however, Moth's already quick to talk, practically beckoning them, "Come, sit down, I'm making bibingka." His startled appearance only melts away when they take a couple steps inside the kitchen; not a single appliance combusted once during his time inside so far.
Again, it's mostly quiet aside from the music. He's already finished pouring the batter into the tray, readying himself to put it inside the oven for however long it needs to bake for. They're just sat, watching. Almost childlike. There's a curiosity, at the very least.
"...Ading," Wrong- who cares, it's late, "If... if you want to help whilst you're here, then you could help me grate the cheese? Don't have to, obviously."
Still, he's talking them through the steps, winding up some egg timer. Preheat, line, mix, bake, top, broil. And make sure music is on, because: "Music gives the food some soul, no? Good atmosphere gives it a good mood to be prepared with." Understandably, Moth isn't exactly himself - it's late, he's less concerned with appearance or suitable behaviours. He's more casual than anything.
Looking over as he washed up, making sure they don't slice a finger on the box grater, "We'll put the cheese on top once the sides look done, then we'll broil it... You're doing great, by the way." Eyeing up the first aid kit on the wall anyways, just in case. He'll do some of the cheese preparation right before he pulls it out the oven and grate cheese. "...'m very grateful to have you here." That was bad.
A brief flash of heat when the oven door opens, and he slides the tray out a little. Cheese gets sprinkled on the surface of the bibingka, almost in excess. But good co-operation means extra reward, after all. And once it's all back in the oven?
Moth's handing the Shadow the egg timer, twisted up to a couple more minutes, with a proud look on his face. "I'll make sure the food's all out and cooling once this goes off, yeah? If I'm there then you're taking some, and if I'm absent, then you can take as much or as little as you want, alright?...As long as Commander Graves doesn't find out. Go do anything you need to, Ading." Praise. He's happy for having some company that isn't set and speaker-bound.
"...I'll see you around. Have a good night." Waves them off, takea a breather and... appreciates existing a little more.