//------------------------------// // Family Recipe // Story: Octavia Sings the Blues // by GrassAndClouds2 //------------------------------// Octavia grunted as she muscled the tandoor oven into position in Bonbon's side yard. It wasn't a large yard--just a small fenced enclosure that was mostly taken up with Bonbon's plants. On the side against Bonbon's shop was a little herb garden, where the candymare grew the mint, anise, and angelica that went into her candies. Opposite it were three little bushes--strawberry, blueberry, and blackberry--that Bonbon used for smoothies during the summer months. In the middle, though, was an open area, and this was large enough for Octavia's purposes. "Thank you for helping me, Bonbon." The cellist nodded at her landlord, who had helped her move the oven outside. Now Bonbon gave Octavia a small glass of lemonade, which she sipped in relief. "I had forgotten how heavy these ovens were." "No problem!" The candymare wiped a bead of sweat off her brow and then stepped back to admire the oven. "I'm always happy to learn about a new way to bake things. Anything else that you need?" It was a few days later, and morning had just begun. The sun had risen, bright and beautiful, and was bathing the entire town in its soft, warm light. A breeze rustled through the trees of the village, just enough to keep the air cool, but not so much that a jacket or even sweater was needed. Birds sang, and from the town's ponds, a few frogs croaked happily as they hopped about and played their froggy games. It was one of the best mornings that Octavia had seen since she'd moved to Ponvyille, and she was determined to make the most of it. "I don't think so," said Octavia, looking at the supplies they had brought out. "I have all the ingredients needed to mix the dough, and the oven should be ready as well. This is all I need." "Oh really?" Bonbon's mouth curled upwards into a teasing smile. "I can see one thing you forgot." "What's that?" "A side dish!" Bonbon dashed back into her store and returned a moment later with a bowl full of a thick, white substance. "I read in a book that raita yogurt went well with naan, and... uh, I'm pronouncing that right, aren't I? Raita?' "Yes, that's correct." Octavia looked at the bowl. The raita yogurt--a traditional sauce in Chenneigh cuisine--smelled delicious to her nose. "I didn't know you knew how to make raita," she said. "It looks sublime." "I'm full of surprises!" Bonbon passed Octavia a spoon. "Please, try it! You've had the real thing before--I want to know your opinion!" Octavia tried a spoonful. It was rich and creamy, with a bit of crunch--Bonbon had used cucumber as the vegetable base--and just a hint of spice--a blend of chili and cumin, most likely. The cellist couldn't say that it compard to her mother's or to her family's chef's recipes, but it was still wonderful. "Delicious," she said, in a tone of frank honesty. "Where did you learn to make this?" "When I first began selling yogurts a few years back, I wanted to find out about all the different types so I could see how I could use them. I mean, it'd be no fun to just stick to the same old stuff everypony in town's had a hundred times." Bonbon grinned. "Raita was one of the types I read about, so I learned to make it to see if I could use it. It actually made a really sweet, healthy desert when I mixed in fruits like mangos and papayas, but I had to get those shipped in to Ponyville, so it wasn't economical to make them here. Still, it was fun learning how to make something new!" "Indeed." Octavia tried another spoonful, earning a chuckle from Bonbon. "I suppose that, just as I have found it... enlightening... to study musical genres outside my own, you also must enjoy learning how to cook foods besides traditional candies." Bonbon began to nod, then paused. "Well, it's not just the cooking that's fun--or the playing of music, right?" "What do you mean?" "The really fun part is sharing them with your friends!" And Bonbon flicked a speck of the yogurt onto Octavia's nose. Octavia blinked, saying nothing for a moment... and then smiled. "Yes. Of course." "HEY!" Both mares turned to see Vinyl Scratch and Bluenote trotting up. Vinyl was waving merrily. "What's up, girls? How's the baking?" "It hasn't started yet," said Octavia, a slight smile remaining on her lips. "We could hardly begin without you." "I didn't know you were into cooking, Vinyl," said Bonbon as she let the two into her yard. "I'm not. Me, I can live on pizza and hay soda." Vinyl grinned. "But new tech I haven't seen in action before? I'm totally there." She tapped the tandoor. "Can this thing really get hotter than a normal oven?" "Twice as hot," said Octavia, as she bent over the tandoor to move the coal and wood blocks around inside it. "Why?" Vinyl's answer was a long whistle. "Neato," she said at last. "Where can I get one?" "Why, are you planning on using one to generate some sort of flamethrower effect in your shows?" asked Octavia, who was learning how Vinyl's mind worked. "Maaaaybe," said Vinyl. Bluenote, meanwhile, looked over the ingredients and smiled at each one as if it was an old friend. Her stomach rumbled, and she grinned. "What are we waiting for?" she asked. "Let's get started!" "You're an eager little filly, aren't you?" joked Bonbon as the four ponies gathered around the table. "I'm always eager to learn about something that's new and delicious!" Bluenote smiled. "There's something magical about delicious food. The sweet crunch of an apple on the first day of fall, the cool, crisp bite of a carrot when you're hiking through the woods, that little kick of a lemon that garnishes a salad of wilted spinach, fresh goat cheese, and..." "Bluey, you're making me hungry," drawled Vinyl. Bluenote blushed. "Sorry. It's just... I'm really excited!" She smiled at Octavia. "Every new food is a new chance for me to taste something delicious, something that makes me really happy. I've already tried most of the recipes I could find in the Ponyville library, so getting to learn something really new and exotic is a great treat." She smiled at Octavia. "Thank you." Octavia realized she was blushing. She was not familiar with the euphoria that came from helping a dear friend acquire something she really wanted... but she found that she liked the feeling. "It is no trouble at all," she said. "Shall we?" Vinyl watched Octavia's hooves as the cellist began to divide the ingredients into four equal portions. "Hey, I've got a question. When did you learn to bake? I mean, I thought you practiced music all the time?" "I was wondering that too," asked Bonbon. "As I mentioned yesterday, my Mother showed me this recipe." "But she's a Duchess, right?" asked Bluenote. "I'm surprised she had the time. It sounds like a super-busy job." She grinned. "Plus, if you were practicing your cello so much, I'm surprised you had time." "She made the time." Octavia smiled as she looked off into the distance. "And as for me..." *** Several years prior... A clean, bright melody flowed from a Chenneigh mansion and floated up towards the sky. It was a gorgeous, simple tune, the kind that would please any foal's ear and give them a feeling of warm contentment. Any foal, that is, except the one performing it. In a small room in the East Wing of the Philharmonica mansion, Octavia Philharmonica was struggling mightily. She was just a little pony, her body shorter than the bow she wielded, and it was hard enough to keep the cello upright. She still wasn't used to balancing on her hind legs, and having to do it on a chair--it was the only way that she could reach the upper portions of the strings--made it all the harder. Plus, of course, balancing was not enough, there was the music to consider. She was still able to draw the notes out of her instrument, but it was a frantic battle, each note barely reached and then passed in a race to the next one. And the piece just kept going, kept getting more complex, and wouldn't end for a whole six pages. Come on! thought an exhausted Octavia. She had been working on this piece for two weeks. It was the longest she had ever spent on one musical work. She knew she should be able to do it; she loved music more than any other activity, she was immensly talented, she worked incredibly hard. According to everything she knew, she should have mastered it by this point. But she hadn't, she just kept failing, and every time she failed she felt a little more like she wasn't all that good at music, or anything else, and she was just a useless third foal like so many others. She reached the beginning of page three. This was where she usually fell apart, but she told herself that this time would be different. The 4-against-3 voices began, she moved her bow to match... And she began to squeak. Octavia tried to save the piece, but she didn't have the fine control needed to play all the notes without blurring them together or squeaking at the top. She sawed frantically, trying to recover, but the piece spiraled out of control, the voices tangling into an inarticulate mess, until Octavia was just making tortured noises. Then she moved her bow a little too far out, lost her balance, and fell over, dropping the cello on top of her. BONK The cello head hitting her behind her ears didn't hurt that much, but it was just enough--in conjunction with two weeks of failure--for the foal to lose control. Bursting into tears, she scampered out from under the cello and fled the room. She ran through the halls of the mansion, past startled servants as they cleaned the house, past her big sister Viola as she studied with a tutor in the library, past some visiting guest whom she almost knocked over. She didn't stop until she was in her room and was buried under a pile of stuffed instruments, pulling them over herself as if they might be able to hold back knowledge of her failure. She cried loudly and freely, soaking the plush sousaphone her uncle had gotten her for her last birthday. I'm a total failure... Her mother, a blue-coated and black-maned earth pony with a regal bearing, entered a few minutes later. "Octavia, dear?" she asked. She was wearing a formal blue dress, a shining pearl necklace, and a pin with the Philharmonica crest on it--the kind of clothes and jewelry she wore, Octavia knew, when she was getting ready for something very formal. But her mother didn't seem to care about that as she looked through the room. "Are you alright?" Octavia sniffled, but did not respond. Her mother grinned. "Hmm... now where could my Octavia be?" She trotted into the room and began looking in all kinds of silly places--inside cabinets, under the bed, even inside pillowcases. "I know she's in here somewhere," she mused. "Let's see..." A squeak emitted from the pile of stuffed instruments; Octavia was still sad, but she couldn't help giggling when her mother got all silly. "Oh, I know!" Duchess Philharmonica trotted over to the pile--and then removed precisely one instrument, a smiling piano that was enchanted to play 'Smoke on the Water', and sighed. "Nope. Not here either." Octavia laughed more loudly at that, and poked her head out of the instrument pile. "I'm here, Mommy!" "There you are!" Duchess Philharmonica gathered Octavia into a gigantic hug, and her daughter squealed in delight. "Are you alright, dear?" "No." Octavia nuzzled into the crook of her mother's neck. "I'm not good at anything. I'm a bad musician, and I can't even play one stupid song that's in the Early Advanced book, and if I can't play that song after two weeks I'm bad at music, and I'm not better at anything else so I'll never be good at anything and..." She went on for a while, Duchess Philharmonica just hugging her and giving her an occasional nuzzle. When Octavia had finally run out of steam, the Duchess said, "Dear, you know that I think you're a wonderful musician, don't you?" "But you're my Momma! You're supposed to think that! It's in the rules!" The Duchess laughed, a rich, tinkly sound that Octavia loved. "Well, your father and your sisters think so too. So do all your teachers. Didn't Mr. Hardnote say you were the best student he ever had?" "Yeah..." Octavia smiled a little at the memory; Hardnote had said it on the occasion of presenting her with a local award. "But I'm still having a lot of trouble. And my cello hit me." The Duchess gave Octavia another nuzzle. "But didn't all the great musicians have trouble at some point or another? Didn't Beethoofven get stuck for a year on his most famous symphony? Didn't Rachmaneinov make a mistake at a big concert and have to start over?" Octavia calmed a little bit. "Yes, but... but I don't like making mistakes! I want to be really good!" "You are really good! And maybe tomorrow you'll master that piece, but even if it takes you a week--or a month--or you have to skip it, you will still be a fantastic musician. And I'll love you all the same." She gave her daughter one more nuzzle. "Feeling better?" "A little." Octavia did feel a bit less upset. "Thanks, Mommy." "You're welcome, dear." The Duchess paused. "You know, I don't have anything planned for the next hour or so. Would you like to bake?" Octavia's face lit up like the sun. "Your super-special naan? That you make with extra love and care?" She grinned. "YAY!" Her sadness forgotten, she raced to the kitchens, easily outpacing her trotting mother. The foal immediately began getting out the supplies. By the time her mother arrived, everything they needed was on a counter, except for a bag of flour, which was balanced on Octavia's back. "Let's bake, Mommy!" The Duchess helped Octavia get up to the counter herself and wash all her hooves so she was ready to go. "Now, do you remember the recipe?" Octavia grinned, and obviously did, but she shook her head. "Nope! But if you sing it, Mommy, I bet I'd remember it perfectly!" "Of course, dear." The Duchess kissed her daughter, than--as they quickly began mixing flour, sugar, salt, and everything else into a doughy pile--began to sing: "A little bit of this, and a little bit of that. Mix it all together, pitter-pat, pitter-pat. Spread out the dough then, nice and flat. And then make a teardrop, just like that! Then make a teardrop, just like that!" The dough was quickly mixed, the Duchess eagerly mixing the ingredients into a stretchy, gooey, messy pile. Octavia got a few specks on her coat and mane, but unusually for her, she didn't seem to mind. She just looked at her mother with adoring eyes, than continued trying to mold the ingredients into the perfect dough. For her part, even when a dusting of flour somehow coated the Duchess's muzzle, she didn't object on the basis of cleanliness. She just giggled and kept going. "Put them into bake, at eight eighty-eight And wait... and wait... And wait... and wait..." Octavia tensed, knowing what was coming but eager to hear it. "Now there's lots of naan bread, and it tastes great! Now there's lots of naan bread, and it tastes great!" They weren't actually at the baking part yet, but it didn't matter. Octavia busily engaged herself in stretching out the dough, standing on a sunny counter in a beautiful house with the greatest mother in the world, who was singing a lovely song to her. Nothing could ruin her mood. "Here... comes the naan bread!" That delicate crunch, a foal's favorite lunch! Enjoy delicious naan bread! I'm glad we made a bunch!" She pretended to hold a piece of bread out to Octavia, who eagerly leapt at it as if trying to bite it. The Duchess kept moving her hoof away, and soon both were giggling. "Here.. no! Here... no! Here... no! Here... yes!" Octavia had grabbed her hoof, and the Duchess swung her into a hug. "Perfect!" The two embraced for a moment. "Let's do it again!" The Duchess moved to put the stretched dough aside, so it could rise while they made another batch. "A little bit of this..." *** "Aww!" Bonbon smiled. "That's such a sweet story!" Bluenote laughed, and Vinyl gave her a hearty backslap. "Hard to imagine you ever missing a note, but I guess even the great Tavi wasn't always perfect. Did you ever get that song?" "A few days later. I played it for the princess once. She said it was sublime." Octavia smiled. "I... anyway. I'm sorry, I did not mean to spend so much time on the story. In short--my Mother taught me this recipe, and we always baked it whenever I was upset. It means a lot to me. I haven't baked with anypony since then." She looked at the other three. "But you are my friends. It feels... right to teach this to you." Vinyl saluted. "On that note--what comes first?" "We proof the yeast." Vinyl blinked at the powder. "Uh, it looks yeasty to me, but how do we prove it?" Bonbon giggled. "She means, we put it in hot water to activate it." "Exactly," said Octavia. The cellist proceded to show them how to properly proof the yeast--or rather, she showed Vinyl, since the wubstep DJ was the only one of them who didn't already know how. Then Octavia began sifting the other dry ingredients together, then stirring in the proofed yeast and the rest. "What is this?" asked Bluenote, who had somehow gotten enough flour on her face to make her look ghostly. Octavia couldn't help but giggle when she saw the tubist; the tubist smiled and put on a goofy face--eliciting laughter from Bonbon and Vinyl as well--then gestured at a pile of seeds. "I've never seen these before." "Fennel seeds. I ordered them from Canterlot. They add a licorice flavor to the bread." Bluenote pointed at another pile. "And what's that?" "Kalonji. It tastes a little like fresh onion. I ordered it from Chenneigh; it just arrived yesterday." "Can't we just use onions and licorice?" Bluenote took a few of the seeds and tried them. "It sounds like it'd take a while to order all the special ingredients, but Red Onion grows onions here, and you can get licorice at any of the sweet stores. Wouldn't that be easier?" "But that isn't the recipe." Octavia paused. "I mean, maybe you could, but... this was my Mother's recipe. I wouldn't feel right changing it, anymore than I'd feel right rewriting a Beethoofven sonata." "Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Vinyl as Bluenote tried a few seeds. "What I want to know is, what's this?" She gestured at a bowl of a plain white liquid. "... plain yogurt, Vinyl. I got it at the market yesterday." The other three giggled, but Vinyl just shrugged. "What? I don't do yogurt much." When the dough was mixed, Octavia informed them that they would normally need to wait three hours for it to rise. Vinyl looked mildly annoyed, and Bluenote gasped, but Octavia quickly informed them that she had taken steps to avert this. Specifically, she had woken up earlier than usual and prepared dough three hours prior, which had now risen. Thus, she said, they could get on to the next step. "Thanks for getting up so early to make the dough," said Bluenote. "Getting up early is always hard for me." Octavia blushed. "You are my friends. I wanted to help you--" "And we love ya too, Tavi." Vinyl threw a hoof over her shoulders. "Right?" Bluenote and Bonbon both nodded, and Octavia blushed. The cellist showed the other ponies how to roll out the door and how to wiggle it into a teardrop shape. As they finished, she banked the fire until it was roaring. Then she took the naan pieces, dampened them in water, and began pressing them against the inside walls of the tandoor. "Woah!" Bluenote's eyes were wide. "That looks dangerous!" "As long as you don't touch the walls and you keep your hooves damp, it is perfectly safe," said Octavia. "I've never seen food stick to the oven like that," said Bonbon. The naan remained stuck to the tandoor walls without any support, with a few large bubbles pushing out on each piece as it baked "At least, not intentionally." "The high heat of the oven secures them," said Octavia. "And it helps them cook very quickly." Bluenote's muzzle twitched as the scent of baking bread began to float past it. "It smells fantastic. How long does it take to bake? An hour? Forty-five minutes? Half an hour?" Octavia picked up a big spatula and a hook, using the latter to scrape the first piece of naan off the oven wall and onto the former. "It's done," she said. The other three stared at her. "Like I said. It cooks very quickly." Octavia took all the naan out of the oven, then turned back to her friends. "Would you like to try some?" Bluenote spoke for all of them. "Yes, yes, yes!" *** Octavia had eaten many fine breakfasts in her time, but that one--homemade naan bread and raita yogurt, plus a few fresh berries from Bonbon's bushes, all eaten with two of her best friends and her ever-kind landlord--was one of the best. "That was delicious!" said Bluenote. She patted her barrel contentedly. "Thanks, Octy. I've never had anything like that! Kalonjel and fenney seeds, right?" "Kalonji and fennel," Octavia corrected. "And you are welcome." "Thanks. I'm thinking of making this myself." Bluenote turned to Vinyl Scratch. "What about you? Going to bake some delicious naan?" "Nah," said Vinyl. "Baking's not my thing. But this oven... let's just say that gears are turning." She poked her head with a hoof. "I've got a big idea. In a few days, Ponyville will never be the same." "Is that in the same way that Ponyville wasn't the same after your wub canon malfunctioned and trapped Scootaloo up a tree by blasting at her whenever she tried to get down?" Vinyl blushed. "Not the same in a good way, I mean." "I don't usually bake bread," said Bonbon. "But--if you'll let me, Octavia, I'd love to try some candies in that oven. That kind of heat... oh, I could do some awesome things." She grinned. "Please?" "Of course." Bluenote smiled. "Thanks once again, Octy. This is awesome." "It is my pleasure. Thank you for teaching me jazz music." Octavia smiled languidly. She did not usually eat large breakfasts, but the raita spread on the naan was so delicious that she had to have another thickly-spread slice. "And thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me." It's good to have friends. Octavia felt perfectly content, like nothing could knock her out of her happy mood. It really, really is. *** As the meal wound down, Bluenote found herself lost in thought. Let's see. That bread is thin, buttery, and crunchy... it would go perfectly in flatbread sandwiches. Or some spreads, she could make a goat cheese spread and it would be divine... or maybe even make a pocket, and fill it with spinach, mozzerella, herbs, a little tomato... "Oh, Bluenote." The tubist looked at Octavia. "Let me know if you need a tandoor supplier. If you want to bake naan in the traditional way, you will need an oven that can get hot enough." "Thanks," said Bluenote, though she wasn't really worried. She'd spent a lot of time teaching Octavia to be less focused on exactly following scores; learning that she exactly followed recipes too wasn't a big surprise. But Bluenote liked to improvise--with food just as with music--and was confident she could put something together using local ingredients and techniques. And, just as Octavia had learned to loosen up with jazz and other improvisational music, Bluenote was certain she'd feel the same way when she tried some more improvised food. Eventually, the meal ended, and Bluenote found herself heading out, still thinking of recipes. Some herbs, some yogurt, maybe cream... can't go wrong with a little garlic... in fact, since Silver Spoon rescheduled her lesson this week, I have enough time this afternoon to try things out right away! She grinned. In fact, a few foals will be coming by so Tootsie Flute can do her recital this evening. If things go well, I could share whatever I bake with all the foals! Whistling merrily, Bluenote trotted off to the market, head full of ideas for most delicious food.