//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Tension à la Mode // Story: Sparké // by moviemaster8510 //------------------------------// Peter stumbled into the kitchen. He saw as Crème Fraiche was working two different frying pans, using a spoon on occasion to taste the contents inside and ingredients if needed. Peter had seen Twilight practice her magic, but he had never seen someone use magic so fluidly and diligently. He didn’t want to bother her; his father taught him better than to interfere with a chef in the middle of cooking. He hid behind the counter and got the best sight that he could. Using her magic, she lifted the large head of a portabella mushroom and placed it on a plate. A thin, brown sauce was lightly drawn around the mushroom cap, followed by a careful drizzling of sauce over the cap. From a saucepan on the back burner, Crème took a mound of mashed potatoes that were checkered with bits of skin and formed it into a sizable sphere. Once she was finished, she halved the ball and placed the perfect hemisphere on the plate. Buttery green beans were placed into a teepee over the hemisphere of potatoes, the spuds keeping the vegetables in place. Peter gasped in admiration as Crème Fraiche was wiping the plate down of any undesirable spills of her sauce. However, Peter’s noise broke Crème from her concentration and alerted her to his presence. Peter fully hid his body behind the counter as he cupped his hand over his mouth, not wanting to make another sound. “Why, hello there,” cooed Crème’s voice, causing Peter’s voice to honk in surprise. “Don’t be alarmed, little one. I’m not angry, now please come out of there.” Peter nervously did as he was told, standing up, turning around and walking up to her. “I’m sorry,” he said, bowing. “I was just watching you cook! You’re really good at it and I like to watch.” Crème Fraiche gave Peter a heartened chuckle, pleased with the boys appreciation with her craft. “You see, my pop owns a restaurant and I like to watch him cook to. It’s just… I’ve never seen someone do it with magic before! It was kinda’ cool.” Crème’s newfound knowledge of his a father’s culinary expertise made her gasp slightly. “My, how interesting,” she sighed. “I’d love to talk more about it, but I have to deliver Princess Celestia her supper.” Crème put her completed plate on a tray underneath a cloth napkin and a knife and fork to the right and left of it, respectively. Crème left the kitchen without another word. Peter stared at her, mesmerized by her subtle beauty and grace. He walked out of the kitchen, the opening door bringing him to Crème Fraiche’s attention. “Remind me if I’m wrong,” Crème began, resuming off their conversation, “but your name is Peter, correct?” “Uh, yes,” he answered. “So, Peter, you’re interested in my cooking. Do you want to become a chef yourself?” Peter was unprepared for such a question. He was still relatively new to Equestria, and he was more focused on getting home, not evaluating his future career. “I…” thought Peter aloud, “I don’t know. I really don’t know what I want to do.” “That is quite alright,” Crème assured him. “I’m not sure how these customs work on your world, but many foals your age still haven’t gotten their cutie marks yet.” “Their what marks?” “You see this mark on my flank?” she asked, flicking her tail over the frying pan decaled on her rump. “Oh, yeah. Twilight has one of those. And what do you mean ‘haven’t gotten them yet?’ Is it like a tattoo? Does it hurt?” “Of course not,” giggled Crème Fraiche. “You see, when a pony discovers their special talent, a mark that represents said talent magically appears there.” “That’s weird.” “It might be weird for you, but for everypony else, it’s a rite of passage, a step into adulthood.” “Yeah, sure. I just don’t want to go home with one of those things on my butt.” Crème Fraiche gave a hearty laugh which Peter joined in as well. “Don’t worry yourself about that, Peter. Only ponies are able to gain cutie marks.” “Oooh, good.” “But is cooking something that interests you?” “Kind of. My pop owns a restaurant where we live. Somedays, he’ll bring me with to work and I just sit and watch the kitchen go about.” “What is it like?” Crème asked, genuinely interested. “I mean, a kitchen on your world. You see, being Celestia’s personal chef, I don’t get to experience the hustle-and-bustle of working in an actual restaurant. But I assume that is the case in your world?” “Uh… yeah, I guess so.” “Forgive me if I tend to talk to you like an adult; bad habit of mine. It’s just I’ve never would have thought a child such as yourself would be so interested in cooking.” “It sounds like a cool job,” Peter answered with a shrug, “but it also looks very tough. I mean, the way you do it, you make it look so easy! I don’t think I can ever do that!” “Oh, Peter,” chided Crème, “you shouldn’t sell yourself so short. Certainly, the culinary world can be challenging, but I guarantee you that no better feeling comes from mastering such an art as this.” “You really think I can do it?” asked Peter as they came up to Celestia’s chamber. “If you put your heart and soul into it,” Crème answered as calmly and supportive as possible as she opened the doors, “there is nothing you can’t do.” Celestia was alerted to both Crème Fraiche and Peter’s appearances, smiling upon seeing the two together. “Your supper, your majesty,” proclaimed Crème as she bowed and passed the tray to Celestia. “It looks delicious as always,” Celestia complimented, taking the napkin from under the plate and stuffing a corner of it into her broach as a bib. “Thank you.” Crème bowed down and turned to leave, Peter following her. “You two look very cute together,” Celestia called out. “Pardon me, your majesty?” wondered Crème, turning back. “I hope you two are having a good time together.” “Oh yes!” answered Peter. “She’s awesome! You should see her in action.” “I have. That’s why I hired her.” “And I must say,” Crème reasoned, “Peter is quite a charming young colt… or…” “Boy,” responded Peter. “Boy! Right, that’s it. I expect he and I to get along very well.” “That’s wonderful. You two are dismissed now.” “Yes, your majesty.” The two of them left the room and headed back towards the kitchen. “Peter,” asked Crème, “I realize that you and your friend Twilight’s dinnertimes aren’t for a few more hours. Is there something special you’d like me to make for you?” “You know,” Peter said, his thumb and index finger on his chin, “my dad makes this delicious grilled cheese sandwich at his restaurant with a cup of his homemade tomato soup.” “Grilled cheese, huh?” she responded with a slight smile. “You know, it’s Twilight’s day off. You should run and play with her. In the meantime, come back to the kitchen in two hours’ time so you can show me how to make it. Would you like to?” “Would I?” Peter exclaimed, his hands clasped by his chest. “Then it’s settled,” she chuckled. “Meet me back there at five o’clock on the dot. Don’t be late!” Crème then trotted off down the halls and back towards the kitchen. Peter smiled contently, knowing that she would be his “pop” for the time he was here. ======================================== *BEEP**BEEP**BEEP**BEEP**BEEP**BEEP* Peter’s alarm went off. Knowing that there were others inside the castle with him who were more than likely sleeping still, Peter quickly rushed to his phone and turned the alarm off. The clock read six o’clock on the dot, and he knew his father would be up by now. Peter went to his contacts and browsed to find his dad. Clicking on his dad’s name, he pressed the “Call Mobile” button that would bring him back to his dad. After a couple seconds of dialtone, he answered. “Hey, Peter,” Patrick answered. “Pop,” replied Peter. “And, you know where I am, right?” “Didn’t you say you were in a shop outside of Philly? Has the car been fixed yet?” Peter took a heavy, anxiety-ridden sigh. There’s no way he could have thought it was a dream. “Ha! Yes, Peter, we talked about it yesterday, I know exactly where you are. Are you ready for your challenge?” “I was ready the day I stepped foot in your kitchen.” “That’s my boy. Any idea what she’ll make you do?” “I dunno. It’s hard to say. I doubt that Celestia will be inclined to make the challenge too lenient. I mean, there is an entire restaurant at stake here.” “Right. Right, right. You shouldn’t need to worry about a thing. You were easily one of my best cooks in the kitchen, you have an outstanding palate, and you’ve got that Falwell blood pumping in your veins.” “Thanks, pop.” “So, what’s the plan? You’ve got two hours.” “First, I was going to take a bath. Then I was just going to tool around with some ideas that I could use for the challenge if the challenge calls for them.” “Not a bad plan.” “Then when it comes time for the challenge to go on, I’ll bring my computer into the chambers with Celestia so you can watch how I do at the end.” “Sounds good. I know you’ll do fine, so go wash up.” “Sure thing. See you in a bit, pop.” “Alrighty. I love you.” “Love you too.” “Bye.” “Bye.” Peter pressed the red button on his screen and went to go get his clothes and toiletries, grabbing them from the floor and heading to the bathroom. Upon opening the doors, he looked at the central in-ground tub from a faucet on the side. To save some time, Peter walked over to the faucet and turned the hot and cold knobs to get the perfect warm temperature. Peter set up his clothes over a closed straw hamper behind him and acknowledged the shelf of towels right next to it. He also found his sink where he could brush his teeth and a cabinet full of soaps, bath salts, and other cleaning and bath materials. Peter undressed himself and put his clothes in a neat, small pile for him to pick up afterwards. Peter saw that the tub was beginning to really fill up, so he went to the faucet and shut it off. Peter then carefully stepped his fit, naked body into the tub, sliding the rest of it in as he relaxed. Peter couldn’t remember the last time he had baths, being that he used a shower, but it was certainly a very pleasing experience. ____________________________________________________________ Crème Fraiche walked into Celestia’s chambers with two trays, each holding a cup with a soft-boiled egg inside of it with a spoon beside it. The years had started to become less favorable to Crème; her slender and lean physique had gained a few pounds, her short silky mane was a thinner and beginning to grey, and her eyes begun to develop crow’s feet. However, Celestia cared not about her aging over the years. Celestia gave a small lick of her lips as she saw her egg come closer. “Your egg, your majesty,” she said with a slightly deeper accent, bowing down. “Thank you, Crème,” she said, taking her own tray, “please, sit down beside me.” “But why? What is the occasion?” “I’ve invited someone whom I believe you will be very happy to see. In fact, he should be arriving any minute.” Crème gasped. “Gustav le Grand?” she asked, getting excited. “No, no one like that, but please, eat your egg before it gets cold.” “Of course, your majesty.” Crème sat beside her ruler with her egg at the ready. Cutting the top off with her spoon, she daintily scooped out the moist whites and creamy yolks as she put them in her mouth, giving glances to the door every so often to see who would come through them. ____________________________________________________________ Peter was laying on the bed, fully dressed in his jeans and red t-shirt. His mind was racing with different ideas for dishes that he could provide to Celestia and whomever else might be judging him. He knew that he couldn’t prepare any meat dishes like he did at Falwell’s, but he remembered the Equestrian cuisine well, and there was no way he was going to mess this up. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Peter shot off from the bed and walked up to go answer it. Upon opening the door, a pegasus guard greeted him. “Sir Peter,” he spoke. “Yeah?” the human answered. “Celestia requests your appearance in her chambers.” “Already?” “It would be unwise to keep her waiting.” The guard, using his hoof, closed the door, leaving Peter a little astounded. “Damn straight, it would,” he muttered. Peter went to his dresser and grabbed his red hairband, tying his hair back. He then found his phone and laptop on the bed and dresser respectively, putting both of them in his bag eagerly and walking out of the room. ____________________________________________________________ Crème Fraiche had just gotten the last over her egg out of the shell. With her light breakfast finished, she placed the tray away and looked up, only to see the doors still closed. “Ugh!” she grunted in frustration to Celestia. “I can’t stand it anymore! Who is this mystery guest?” I knock was heard at the door, with Crème quickly standing and looking up like an alerted deer. “You wanted to see me, Princess?” said the voice of Peter. “Wait,” wondered Crème with her hoof to her chin. “Why does that voice sound so similar?” “Yes,” answered Celestia to the guest outside the door, “you may come in now.” Peter opened the door to see Celestia and Crème Fraiche, the latter standing but looking at the human with confusion. Peter, however, recognized her immediately, doubling over from nostalgia as he put his hand to his mouth, his smiled peeking from the sides. It was at Peter’s reaction that Crème realized who it was, as only one human could have possibly recognized her. “Crème Fraiche,” gasped Peter. “Peter?” she squealed, tears forming. Peter put down his bag and jogged forwards, leading Crème to gallop towards Peter with choked sobs and a wide smile. The two friends met in the middle of the chambers with Crème standing on her hind legs as she wrapped her arms over Peter’s shoulders while Peter embraced her back. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” Crème exclaimed as she rubbed her head against the side of Peter’s. “Look at how much you’ve grown!” “You’re just as pretty as I remembered you!” proclaimed Peter. “Oh, I can’t believe this!” Crème let go of him and turned to Celestia. “Your highness,” she asked, “what is this? Why is Peter here?” “I wanted to tell you,” Celestia said, standing up and walking down to meet them, “that Peter has been thrust back into Equestria through the magical bonds he created with us. It would be pointless for him to return, as he’d be sent back here in a matter of time, so he has opted to stay.” Crème turned to look at Peter sadly, who only gave her a shrug. “But…” she sighed, “Peter. Your father…” “Oh, that’s right! You should meet him too! Let’s bring him on!” Peter giddily walked to his bag and brought it closer to Celestia’s throne. Celestia followed Peter there while Crème looked in confusion. “What is happening?” asked Crème. “What are we doing?” “Peter is able to contact his father on his own world,” answered Celestia. “We explained Peter’s situation to him last night and he’s accepted it. He also wants to be present for Peter’s challenge today.” “Challenge. What challenge?” Peter had already sat on Celestia’s throne, opened up his computer, logged on to Skype, and rung for his dad. Knowing that Patrick would expect a call soon, Peter wasn’t surprised to see Patrick answer him after just one ringtone. “There you are,” Patrick said. “Is it time yet?” “I suppose it is,” answered Celestia, coming into frame. “Good morning, there… Celestia, was it?” “Yes, it was, and a very good morning to you. Patrick, I would like to introduce you to another one of Peter’s close friends: Crème Fraiche.” Peter rotated his screen around so his dad could see the creamy white mare standing and waving. “Oh, hello there,” responded Patrick. “Hello, Patrick. I just want to say that it’s an honor to meet you. I’m Crème Fraiche, and I am Celestia’s personal chef.” “You mean, you cook for royalty? And you’re honored to meet me?” “But of course! If it had not been for you, I would not have met such a fine young man as the son you have raised.” “Why, thank you.” “You should be thanking her again, pop,” Peter interrupted. “I don’t think if it were for her, I wouldn’t have nearly the drive and passion in cooking as I do today.” “You see, Patrick,” explained Crème, “he told me how interested he was in cooking because of you, so I allowed him to join me in the kitchen to watch me prepare meals, as well as to give him some advice.” “Strangely enough,” Patrick mused aloud, “Peter did come back to me knowing a little more about cooking than I thought he would have for a boy his age. So, I guess I do have you to thank again, don’t I?” “Perish the thought! I’m just happy to see you still happy even though your son is here.” “Yes, it certainly will be different. So, is it time for the challenge yet?” “I suppose now is as good of a time as any,” Celestia spoke. “Peter, would you please stand before my throne. And leave your device here.” Peter did as he was told, putting the computer down on the floor and standing at the foot of the steps. Celestia stood before Peter with his computer held by Celestia and the screen facing him, his father awaiting the rules. “Peter. I have watched you grow up as a young boy, and you have reappeared to us again as an adult. You have shown that your time here has left an imprint on your heart, and with that impression, you wished to run your own restaurant, but were pulled away from that dream. Today, however, I am giving you the chance to pursue that dream once more. “In order for this to happen, however, you must pass this test which I shall soon bestow upon you. Failure will result in you resuming on your own in any way you can. But being that I love you as my own child, I want nothing more for you to pass this test, but I must ask before you begin: Are you ready.” “Was born ready,” Peter answered stoically. “Very good. Your challenge may sound simple, but it’s in your execution that you will shine or break. I wish for you to make eight different dishes: one soup, one salad, one sandwich, one appetizer, three entrees of your choosing and creation, and one dessert. “You shall have two hours to prepare, cook, plate, and serve these dishes before us. It shall be I, Crème Fraiche, and my sister Luna who shall judge each dish and give you our feedback. Upon reaching a consensus, if all eight of your dishes are enough to impress us, you will pass your test. So, now I ask one more time, Peter Falwell: are you ready?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Very well. I assume you remember where the kitchen is?” “I can get there blindfolded.” “Good. All of your materials shall be in there. Is everything in order, Crème?” “Except for the pot I used to boil our eggs, the two dishes I served them in, and these two trays, everything should be shipshape.” “Excellent. Crème, do you have any last words?” “Peter, I spent that year teaching you much that I knew. Now, I cannot be of any assistance to you. I want to see how much you’ve grown since then. I wish you the best of luck.” “Patrick?” There was a slight pause before he gave his answer. “Kick some ass!” Peter couldn’t help but chuckle despite having the most pressure that he ever felt in his life. Before Celestia could commence the challenge, a shrill voice shouted out. “Wait!” Twilight yelled, galloping into the room with Spike on her back. “Ah, Twilight,” greeted Celestia, “so glad of you to join us. Peter was just about to begin his challenge. Do you have anything you’d like to say to him before he goes off?” It took Twilight a couple of seconds to control her panting, but she wanted to delay Peter no longer, so she began. “Peter, I’m so grateful to have met someone like you. Those days I spent with Princess Celestia wouldn’t have been nearly as great if it had not been for you being by my side. I have full confidence that with your heart and passion, you’ll pass this with flying colors.” Peter nodded with a smile, uplifted by her best friend’s words. “With that said, I believe we can begin.” Peter’s legs tensed up, ready to run off and begin. “Peter, your two hours begins… now!” Peter whipped his body backwards as he ran out the door and down the hallways. Twilight, Patrick, Celestia, and Crème watched with warm smiles as Peter engaged himself in the hardest test he would ever face. “Crème,” whispered Celestia. “Go and gather a table for Peter to place his food on.” “Of course, your majesty.” Crème ran out of the room too, eager to help Peter in any which way she could. “I shall go get Luna,” Celestia said as she walked off, leaving Twilight and Spike alone in the room with Peter’s laptop. “Do you really think Peter’s got the chops to do this?” asked Spike. “Whatever the princesses told him to do,” Twilight answered, “I know Peter will succeed.” ======================================== Peter walked into the kitchen of Le Cordon Bleu Culinary Arts College in Chicago for the first time. While his father’s kitchen at Falwell’s was nothing to scoff at, Peter was just amazed by it all. Not just by the size, but just the fact that he was actually here. He ran his fingers along the metal countertops and the state-of-the-art stoves, and just imagined of all the things he could do there. “Well,” he said to himself. “Time to make my first impression.” ======================================== Peter rushed into the kitchen. It was as if the world had slowed down but his mind remained in real time. He managed to see Crème’s pot in the sink which he would wash for her when he would have time. Perhaps it would be a curveball in his challenge. But right now, he needed to think and create. Peter grabbed as many pots and pans his hands could carry and began to place them on the stove. When his arranging was complete, Peter ran back to the walk-in pantry to look at all of the different ingredients he had to work with. While his challenge would be taxing, he could at least rest on the fact that Peter’s list of options was nearly unlimited. Peter smirked as he eyeballed various ingredients in order. “Showtime,” he whispered to himself.