text; un: firstspear

[ua_duibhne]

Name: Diarmuid Ua Duibhne
Date: 17/03
Format: Text

What are your favourite recipes?

I'm not the most adept in the kitchen but I pride myself on being able to provide my household with meals when I can but I'm starting to run low on ideas and serving the same things is tedious for all of us. There are currently three of us but we often have guests too so dishes that serve a greater number of people would suit my needs best.

Ah, and we keep strange hours so all the better if they can be put aside for a few hours. Other than that, I'm willing to try most things. Except wild boar. It's too gamey for my taste.

[yep that's it it's totally because he doesn't like the flavour and not for any other reason]

Comments

[tryhard]

I'm glad you're fond of it too. They're all adults, you know. They could feed themselves if you didn't want to make things all the time. (Though perhaps it's better you don't let Flat cook, if we're being honest with each other.)

My own bread-making skills are frankly nonexistent, but I won't say no to fresh bread if the invitation includes helping to eat it! 🙂

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[ua_duibhne]

I know, but it's a point of pride- and I'll not lie to you, Flat won't be going near the new stove any time soon.

Of course! If not your baking skills, I'll need your tasting ones.

[If he does decide to come over, Waver will find the back door is unlocked and open, "guarded" by Coill as he steals a nap in the afternoon sun. The dog lifts his head as he passes, mildly curious, but settles down again when he realises who that canine scent belongs to. With a huff, he rests his muzzle back on his paws and closes his eyes.

Diarmuid, meanwhile, is hard at work. As Waver enters the kitchen, he'll find the witch poring over a tattered old book, scales in one hand and a bowl in the other. Though the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, wearing dark colours was probably a poor decision given how much flour they're going to be working with.]

... how many grams are in a cup, damn yo- [At once, his expression brightens.] Ah, Waver! Would you like something to drink?

[tryhard]

[ Of course he agrees! Waver promises to be over shortly, and about twenty minutes later lets himself in past the disinterested guard dog, giving Coill a pat on the head as he walks by.

Seeing Diarmuid intent over the book and with all the baking supplies arranged around him like an army, Waver can't help but laugh. He looks so damn serious. ]

Hello. Sure.

[ Waver steps further in to remove his coat and boots, coming back around into the kitchen in slippers. Yes, he makes himself perfectly at home here. ]

It's about 130 grams, by the way. A little less, maybe? If I'm remembering correctly.