//------------------------------// // Pinkie Pie Pasta Part Two // Story: Recipes For Friendship // by Mr Merritt //------------------------------// That evening the grey colt wracked his brain for just the right recipe to teach the party pony. While he would never take anything away from Pinkie Pie as far as baking was concerned, he felt that the difference between cookies and a main dish were enough to warrant something easier to make. The fact that this would be the first time Peppermill actually attempted to teach another pony something meant a basic dish was the way to go. Fortunately, thanks to Granny Smith’s consumption of the noodle soup at supper provided a…unique source of inspiration. With a pad of paper and a pencil clenched in his teeth, the colt sat at the small desk in his bedroom and wrote out a considerable amount of recipes as they came to mind. Peppermill’s impressive memory for dishes was a legacy from his father, who himself never wrote down a recipe in his life. Every meal, from appetizers to desserts, came direct from his brain and he never forgot a single detail. The colt vividly recalled his mother literally ordering his father to write down the instructions for the other chefs and prep cooks so he would spend more time with her than in the kitchen. As the ideas flowed onto paper the colt began to think more about his late parents, especially his father. Pepperoncini was a firm believer that a good meal, and the ability to make such a thing, was a right every pony should have. Becoming a chef and running his own restaurant were extensions of that belief. A belief that he instilled very solidly in both his sons, though his youngest was far more receptive to it. I wonder…what Father would…have thought…about trying to…teach a pony like…Pinkie Pie? This simple though was the only real stumbling block Peppermill could see preventing him from a successful venture. Pinkie’s attention span seemed almost non-existent, and the grey colt had no idea how he would (or could) handle an inattentive student. Well…if all else fails…at least the…food should turn out…decent as long…as one of us…is paying attention… *** The next morning the colt was up with the rest of the clan as he prepared a small grocery list of the essentials he needed for his mini cooking class with the pink mare. With Applejack and Big Macintosh offering him well wishes, he bounded out of the farmhouse door and headed straight for the local market. Despite the fact that it would be a while yet before the stalls opened, he wanted to make extra sure that the ingredients he collected for his lesson were the absolute best. “Let’s see…zucchini…cherry tomatoes…red and yellow peppers…this is probably…more vegetables than…Pinkie has ever…eaten at once…I hope…she is okay…with that.” the colt wondered out loud. He already had a full load in a saddlebag that his caretakers leant him. Between the squash, the pasta noodles, and the onion he already had a decent load. Hopefully he would be able to collect the rest of the more vital components and get to Sugarcube Corner before the weight became too much. “I really should…have asked Applebloom to…carry some of this. She’s a lot…stronger than…she looks…” Fortunately the majority of the salesponies in the market knew all about Peppermill and his `foodie` nature. Quite often he and Silver Spoon would make an afternoon examining and comparing the fresh foods being sold. As a result, the ponies he needed to speak to knew exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it. Peppermill would admit the respect they showed him put a spring in his step as he made his way to the bakery. As ordered by Pinkie Pie when she had made her request, Peppermill was to go to the back door of the shop and perform a `secret knock`, letting her know it was him at the door. Willing to humor the Element of Laughter he did as he was told, though even he recognized ‘shave and a manecut, two bits’ when he heard it. After a few moments, the door opened and a bubblegum-pink foreleg motioned him inside. Within seconds Peppermill was swept up and was being shaken upside down over a large counter, the contents of his saddlebags being dumped onto the surface. All the while Pinkie Pie kept up a frenzied, one-sided conversation. “Vegetables? Oh, lots and lots of vegetables! They are so colorful and pretty! Oh, I just knew you would come up with something fun, Peppy! I can’t wait to see what we are going to do! There is going to be chopping and mincing and sautéing…sauté…that’s a funny word isn’t it? Not as funny as kumquat or pickle barrel, but still…sauté sauté sauté!” “P-P-P-Pinkie…st-st-stop!” Peppermill felt his teeth chatter and his stomach lurch at the violent motion. No amount of preparation for Pinkie’s famous exuberance could prepare him for something that felt like riding a maddened Pegasus through a hailstorm. Fortunately Pinkie obeyed and placed the colt right side up by the counter, only for him to sink to the floor with wobbly legs. “Yes?” beamed the anxious mare, seemingly oblivious to the colt’s discomfort. With a tremendous surge of will, Peppermill got to his hooves and regained his composure. “We’ll need…urp…a baking sheet…and a cutting board. Oh, and…a large pot full…of water. I’ll…urg…sort everything out.” “Yes sir Chef Peppermill sir!” Pinkie snapped a salute and bounded off in her bouncy gait, while Peppermill waited for the room to stop spinning. When his vision improved enough that he could walk without stumbling, he began to pick the few vegetables that had fallen up off of the floor. Once that was sorted out, he removed his saddlebag and discovered to his relief a pair of vital items had remained untouched. He first pulled out a large knife in a protective plastic cover. He had come across it while in the kitchens of Canterlot Castle when he had been there recently. He had been so impressed by its balance and sharpness that he had begged Princess Celestia and the head chef to tell him where he could find one of his own. He was utterly overjoyed when he was given it as a gift, with specific instructions to use it with pride. It was one of his most prized possessions, and he refused to make even a single meal without it. The other item was another gift, of sorts. While he was in total agreement with his parents in the idea that wealth wasn’t important, he would readily admit that some things needed to cook cost a pretty penny. But when one of your best filly friends was a member of the second richest family in town and as much a lover of good food as he, sometimes he could get away with an occasional request. The tall, square-shaped green glass bottle he carefully placed on the counter was another vital necessity for cooking. Even Pinkie, who had returned with the utensils, could sense something important about the bottle. “What is that?” she asked, her baby-blue eyes focused on the container. “This…is the chef’s…secret ingredient.” “Secret ingredient? Is it…magic?” “No…but there are…some ponies who…think it…should be. This…is extra virgin olive oil.” “Oooohh…” “Now…before we go…any further I need…to ask you an…important question Pinkie…” “Yes?” “Do you…slurp your soup? Especially…noodle soup?” “Of course I do! What pony doesn’t?” “Then I assume…you don’t mind noodles?” “I love noodles! Oh…oh…is it spaghetti? You’re going to teach me how to make spaghetti? Oh boy oh boy oh boy!!!” Pinkie’s jubilance was infectious, and Peppermill couldn’t help but smile. “Well…not exactly. It’s…kind of like…spaghetti. This is called…Pasta Primavera. It is really…good for you…and you can use…any kind of…noodle you want. Normally restaurants like…to use little…bow tie shapes called…farfalle.” Pinkie suddenly froze, and began to roar with laughter kicking her hooves in the air. “Farfalle…that’s hilarious!!” “Yeah…I kind of…figured you might…enjoy that. Sadly I wasn’t able…to find any bow ties…so we’ll have to use…regular spaghetti noodles. But remember…one of the…great things about pasta…is that the noodle…isn’t nearly as important…as the topping.” Despite Peppermill’s attempt to lecture the mare, it was clear she was far too far-gone in her amusement over the word ‘farfalle’. She continued to giggle wildly; enough that tears were streaming down her face. The grey colt sighed and shook his head. I should…have waited until…we started…the vegetables…before mentioning the noodles… *** Later, when Pinkie had regained her composure and the vegetables were roasting in the oven, the two ponies kept themselves busy preparing the pasta water and cutting the cherry tomatoes. Because it was a gas stove, Pinkie had insisted on dealing with the boiling water. This was partly because of safety measures and partly because the mare knew that the colt, despite his best efforts, still became somewhat skittish around open flames. Peppermill readily agreed to this, and continued to explain the dish as he chopped the fruit. “This is such a pretty dish.” commented Pinkie. “It’s so colorful, with all the peppers and stuff. It must be nice being able to know how to make all this yummy stuff.” “Well…I had a…lot of help. Plus…it helps to…write things…down.” admitted the colt. “I even…made sure to…make a recipe card…for you when this…is all over.” As Peppermill continued to chop, he noticed the normally chatty mare had gone quiet. He had become so used to the constant running conversation that he found the silence concerning. He glanced over his shoulder, to find Pinkie just…staring at him with an unreadable expression. “Is there…something wrong Pinkie?” “No, nothing. It’s just…” “Pinkie?” The mare gave a rare melancholy sigh and spoke. “It’s just…you look so much like my sisters I never really noticed until just now. I guess I just got a little homesick, that’s all.” Learning the pink mare was not an only child surprised the colt greatly. “You must…miss them…” “Yeah…” “Hmmm…” The colt and mare went back to their duties in silence. Then Peppermill made a decision. He turned to Pinkie. “You know Pinkie…if you like…you can think…of me as a…little brother. I have…a lot of experience…in that.” At first, the colt wondered if he had made a mistake given the lack of response from the mare. He was rewarded by her turning the oven burner off before launch herself bodily onto him, squeezing him tightly. He half-expected a rush of platitudes, but all she said was… “Thank you Peppy.” “You’re…welcome Pinkie” *** Soon enough the finishing touches were applied to the pasta and vegetables, and Peppermill plated two generous helpings of the pasta primavera. “So what…do you think Pinkie?” Peppermill was quite pleased at how well the dish had turned out, and he waited as the mare took a large forkful. She chewed, then closed her eyes and made some happy noises. “Oh Peppy! This is amazing! I never knew you could make something like this!” “You can…make something…like this yourself. It’s not…that hard. Just think of it…as savory rather than…sweet.” “I can’t thank you enough for all this. Oh wait, yes I can! Wait right there…” Pinkie raced off, leaving Peppermill to finish his own plate of pasta. He pondered whether or not to try out the dish back home at Sweet Apple Acres, but Pinkie returned before he could make a decision. She had a large box balanced across her back, and the colt immediately broke into a smile. There was no doubt in his mind what the contents were. “Two dozen Sugarcube Corner Gingersnaps, just for you!” “I think…that is more…than adequate payment…for a cooking class.” beamed Peppermill. Pinkie Pie Pasta Primavera Recipe complements of foodnetwork.com 3 carrots, peeled and cut into strips 2 medium or 1 large zucchini, cut into thin strips 2 yellow squash, cut into thin strips 1 onion, thinly sliced 1 yellow bell pepper, cut into thin strips 1 red bell pepper, cut into thin strips ¼ cup olive oil Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper 1 tablespoon dried Italian herbs or herbs de Provence 1 pound farfalle (bowtie pasta) 15 cherry tomatoes cut in half ½ cup grated Parmesan cheese Preheat oven to 450 F. On a heavy baking sheet, toss all the vegetables with oil, salt, pepper and dried herbs to coat. Transfer half the vegetables to another heavy baking sheet and arrange evenly over the surface. Bake until carrots are tender and vegetables begin to brown, stirring after 10 minutes for 20 minutes total. Meanwhile, cook the pasta in a large pot of boiling salted water until al dente, tender but still firm to the bite, about 8 minutes. Drain, reserving one cup of the cooking liquid. Toss the pasta with the vegetables in a large bowl to combine. Toss with the cherry tomatoes and enough of the reserved cooking liquid to moisten. Season with salt and pepper, Sprinkle with Parmesan and serve immediately. Serves 6.