Everything I dish, three star, Michelin
It has been a flurry of activity to prepare for the dinner, expecting the dads to arrive any minute now, based on the directions he'd given them on the invites mailed. Flora is out and should be gone for a few nights, making this the perfect opportunity, not to mention the window to accomplish this is rapidly closing. Danta and Astaroth's vacation is still ongoing, but they've been engaging in more ways than one and he's pretty certain they'll be out until the late night.
The spirits have managed to be both helpful and a hindrance. Some assisted with his cleaning and food prep, while others kept stealing the materials for him sending him on a game of hide and seek on more than one occasion. Muttering to the hallways, he flitted about to the offering stations, lighting small candles and leaving a stash of candied fruits for them to bother with instead. It put him enough behind schedule that he's now frantically whipping up the goat cheese mashed potatoes, which are to be paired with the pomegranate and maple alpina that's waiting to be cooked while the glaze finishes reducing. The asparagus is prepped and ready to bake, coated in lemon and cheese. On the counter is a bottle of the waterfall gin, plus the cucumber liqueur and mint leaves meant to go with it.
Not forgetting his apron this time, black with a similarly coolored dragon on it, flame letting reading turn up the heat, it protects the rest of his outfit. Decked out with a periwinkle button-up that's half-done up, the open chest revealing the light tan undershirt beneath, it's enough comfort to abide the Longheat here, although the kitchen work is setting a sweat to his brow. "COME IN!" he calls when there's an arrival at the door, and the spirits will see to it that it swings open for entry.
The spirits have managed to be both helpful and a hindrance. Some assisted with his cleaning and food prep, while others kept stealing the materials for him sending him on a game of hide and seek on more than one occasion. Muttering to the hallways, he flitted about to the offering stations, lighting small candles and leaving a stash of candied fruits for them to bother with instead. It put him enough behind schedule that he's now frantically whipping up the goat cheese mashed potatoes, which are to be paired with the pomegranate and maple alpina that's waiting to be cooked while the glaze finishes reducing. The asparagus is prepped and ready to bake, coated in lemon and cheese. On the counter is a bottle of the waterfall gin, plus the cucumber liqueur and mint leaves meant to go with it.
Not forgetting his apron this time, black with a similarly coolored dragon on it, flame letting reading turn up the heat, it protects the rest of his outfit. Decked out with a periwinkle button-up that's half-done up, the open chest revealing the light tan undershirt beneath, it's enough comfort to abide the Longheat here, although the kitchen work is setting a sweat to his brow. "COME IN!" he calls when there's an arrival at the door, and the spirits will see to it that it swings open for entry.
Kaisel
Comin' in hot like a pot when it hiss
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
