The Taste of Victory
“And we just add a little more cinnamon… A touch of sea salt… And a bit of… Olive oil I guess?”
Soarin’ sighed as he mixed all of the ingredients together in his mixing bowl. Making the perfect pastry treat sure was hard. The splattered remains of his previous failed attempts lay in ruins strewn across the Wonderbolts’ kitchen, making the room look like it had been the site of a massive pre-school foodfight. Pieces of raw dough hung from ceiling fans, globs of apple filling splattered the counters in patterns that only fingerpainting kindergarteners could make, and his apron was practically coated in two different layers of chocolate. Even his normally pristine athletic body was covered in filth.
How do ponies even bake? If this is what happens, then I don’t even know how they can make a doughnut let alone a pie! So what if I accidentally put a tablespoon of baking soda instead of a teaspoon…? There’s no reason it should have exploded in the oven like that!
Soarin’ sighed. Surely the fifty-seventh time had to be the charm. Surely. Otherwise, Soarin’ just didn’t know what he was going to do. None of the other Wonderbolts really knew how to cook. He really didn’t like the way that their personal chef cooked her pies either. They were disgusting. Soggy, limp crust, and lackluster filling that jiggled like a fat pony on a treadmill. He shuddered just thinking about feeling the vile substance enter his stomach. He nearly dry heaved.
No. This pie had to be absolutely perfect. It had to be. He couldn’t take the pain of not being able to taste the most glorious pie he’d ever tasted. Delicious, delicious apple pies… Pumpkin pies… Soarin’ snapped out of his pie induced trance, only to realize that he had been using his automatic mixer the entire time, not paying attention to the motions he was making with it. He looked once at the empty bowl.
“This is freakin’ impossible! I’ve been trying for over three hours now and I have not successfully made one pie!” Soarin slumped down the counter, breathing a heavy sigh. Delicious, flaky crust… That’s all he wanted. Not mudpony’s paradise… As he sat there, he realized that he would need outside help. He wanted to be able to make his own dessert, to be free to eat them whenever he wanted. He wanted to be able to do things himself and not always have to rely on other ponies the entire time.
As he sat there, he remembered suddenly the pies from the grand galloping gala. Specifically, the one that he had been given by that orange earth pony mare. He remembered the consistency of the filling. Nice and firm, but not too stagnant. Just enough to allow for a satisfying chew. And that crust… Such beautiful crunch that he could have sworn that it could be heard from the moon, but delicate enough to melt in his mouth.
“I know what I need to do. I need to go to Ponyville,” Soarin’ stated, rising up from his grumpy, defeated position on the floor. Quickly, he took off, setting a straight course for where he knew it was. He was lucky that it was his day off today. Otherwise, he might have been moping all day.
The trip to Ponyville had been rather uneventful. Just Soarin’ thinking to himself in his head how would be the best way to approach the mare. It wasn’t everyday that a celebrity just showed up at your doorstep, asking you to teach him how to bake. This was going to take careful planning, precision, and- His mind cut off it’s own train of thought, noticing the large farm on the outskirts of the small town. Well, that’s the only farm I see around here with an apple orchard… And if I recall correctly, that mare had an apple cutie mark. Maybe she lives here?
Soarin’ landed softly in front of the large farmhouse, kicking up a light could of dust particles and breathing deeply. Without a moment’s hesitation, he stepped forward and knocked on the front door.
“Somepony at the front door? Hang on, I’m comin’. Ah’ll just be a second,” a voice responded from the other side.
Soarin turned his head to the side to see an old green mare in a rocking chair. He gave her a slight nod of recognition, which she returned in kind. Weird. Normally ponies would be overreacting to me being here… Huh. I wonder how this is going to play out…
His thought were interrupted as the door opened slowly, an orange mare in a stetson hat staring at him. “Yeah, who’s the- Uh… Soarin’? W-what are you doin’ here at the farm? Ain’t ya supposed to be… Workin’ or somethin’?”
Soarin’ shook his head. “No ma’am. Today’s my day off. They’re not using me in the next show. I’ve been in the last three. They want to give the new recruits a chance to shine through. Give the spotlight to the rookies. Anyways, I came here because… Well… I know this is going to sound really weird, but I was wondering if you could maybe teach me how to bake? I was trying for so long this morning, but I just couldn’t get it down, and I remembered the delightful pie that you sold me at the Gala.”
Applejack scratched the back of her head in both humility and slight confusion. “Well gee… Ah’m real flattered Soarin’. I really am, but Ah’m kinda busy today. Ah still have a lot of work to do and Ah don’t really have the time… ‘Sides, Ah’m not really the best teacher for this kind of think. I think ya may want to go and check out Sugar Cube Corner if yer lookin’ to take up bakin’. They’re the local bakery.”
Soarin’ frowned slightly. “That’s alright. Thank you for your time, and for pointing me in the right direction.” With that, Soarin’ took off into the air, flying towards the gingerbread building in the distance. Something about that building just screamed ‘baking’ to him. Perhaps it was because of the building’s sweet theme.
He pushed his way through the large sugar glass door. He looked around, admiring all of the goodies and treats among the shelves, and various spices that filled the store. Entire trays of chocolate eclairs, doughnuts, brownies, and anything else his sweet tooth could have imagined surrounded him. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a colt in a candy store. This was definitely the place that he was looking for.
“Hello?” Soarin’ called out. There didn’t seem to be anypony manning the store at the moment. The whole shop seemed to be rather empty to him. It made his stomach think as he thought to himself. What if I can’t do this? What if I’m not cut out for making my own pies. I mean, I really want to, but I don’t know the first thing about it.
“Hiya!” a pink pony said, popping up from behind the counter.
“Waaaaaaaggghhh!” Soarin’ jumped back, startled by the sudden address to him. Taking a second to calm his shaky breath, he turned to the mare who seemed to have appeared out of thin air. He opened his mouth to address her. “Excuse me miss, I-”
“You came here because you wanted to learn how to bake and you’ve been trying really hard and you don’t know what to do? And you’re not too confident in your abilities to learn, so you came to get help from the best? And you came here because Applejack was busy and you only have a short amount of time to learn? Did I get it right?” she said, bouncing happily the whole time.
“I… Uh… Yes. How did you know that?” Soarin’s said, staring dumbfounded at her.
“Well, this sort of thing happens almost every other week. Applejack used to help ponies learn how to bake, but she wasn’t a very good teacher. But don’t tell her I said that. Plus, why else would you walk into a bakery when the sign on the door says closed? It’s obvious!”
“Uh… Yeah. That’s exactly it! So, do you think that you can help me? I’d really appreciate it. Maybe I could get you some tickets and a backstage pass to one of our shows or something to repay you.”
Pinkie Pie tapped her hoof to her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “I could teach you… But then again, I don’t know if a newbie like you would be able to keep up with my fast pace… Not to mention that the story says that I shouldn’t be the one to do it… I have an even better idea! Hold on, I’ll go get my boss, Mrs. Cake! She taught me everything I know. Everything.” She stuck her face very close to Soarin’s invading his privacy to punctuate that last word.
“Yeah… That sounds good I guess. I mean, as long as I’m learning. And what was that about a sto-”
“Okay, I’ll go get her, bye!”
With that, Pinkie Pie shot up the stairs to the second floor. Soarin’ merely shook his head and shrugged it off and decided to take a further look around. In a back room behind the counter, he could see through the double doors what looked to be a humble little kitchen. Nothing grand and glorious like the one he’d come to know at the Wonderbolts ground. It was fairly small. There were a few stainless steel pots and pans hanging on a large magnet on the wall, and all sorts of ingredients from eggs to flour lay spread in an organized pattern on the counter.
“Huh… Weird.” Soarin’ chuckled to himself. It was almost like they knew he was coming. He passed the thought off in his mind, taking steps towards the kitchen in order to get a better look through the small windows on the double doors.
“Ah. Hello dear. Are you the one that wanted to learn about baking?” an older mare asked from behind him.
“Yes actually. Mrs. Cake I take it? It’s nice to meet you. Do you think that you might be able to help me out? I’m less than amazing at this sort of thing…” Soarin’ rubbed the back of his next sheepishly, chuckling.
“Well, Pinkie insisted on me helping her friend, so I suppose I can. You’d better be prepared though. Baking is an exact science. It takes accuracy, pinpoint precision, excellent timing, and a level head. You have to be willing to put the time and patience into it. The more passion you put into baking, the better your products will end up being. Now, do you think you’re ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be ma’am.” Soarin’ saluted her, eliciting a chuckle.
“Well then, follow me into the kitchen.”
Soarin’ did as he was told, following the elderly mare into the cozy kitchen. It gave him a sort of old-timey family feel that made him feel welcome and at home. Mrs. Cake tossed him an apron to put on. “You might want to put this on, dear. Your current attire looks less than desirable. I’m surprised that you were walking around in public like that.”
Soarin’ looked down at his own body, realizing that he had forgotten to remove his chocolate soaked apron and take a shower before departing. A deep blush began to form on his face, causing him to turn away and attempt to brush the debris from his coat. Unfortunately for him, the sticky nature of it all made it cling to him like lint to a pants pocket. Sighing, he took off his old apron and replaced it with the new, vibrant pink one. He felt a part of his masculinity snap away.
“Sorry about that… I must have forgotten to get cleaned up before I came over here! I can’t believe that I missed that.” Soarin’ chuckled, rubbing the the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, where do we start?”
“First things first, you have to wash your hooves any time before you handle food. Especially when you look like that.” Mrs. Cake gave a hearty laugh in the way that only a mare experienced in the ways of the world could. Soarin’ went over to the sink rinsing and lathering his hooves with soap multiple times to make sure they were clean before drying them off on a conveniently placed hand towel.
“Alright. So, the hooves are washed, the bowls and ingredients look ready. What’s next?” Soarin’ asked?
“First, take the eggs, and crack them over the smaller bowl. No, no, no. Don’t just slam them down on the edge of the bowl. Lightly crack them. Like this.” Mrs. Cake took the egg that Soarin’ had been attempting to bludgeon the side of the poor plastic bowl with. She held it up carefully, bringing it just to the upper lip of the grew mixing bowl before lightly thrusting it downward. With a graceful poise, she split the two halves of the egg shell, allowing the innerds to fall peacefully into the bowl.
“Now, we only need two more eggs with this recipe. I’ll let you go ahead and crack them with your own hooves for practice. It’s important to know the proper way to crack an egg!”
Soarin’ nodded. he took one of the other eggs. Copying Mrs. Cake’s movements, he tapped the egg lightly on the edge of the bowl, splitting the halves. His clumsy, inexperienced hooves cause the two halves to cave in slightly, resulting in a slightly less graceful fall for the egg, leading to an almost broken yolk. Knowing what to do now, he took a deep breath and did the same with the other egg, albeit it in a much more successful attempt.
“Alright. Eggs are cracked ma’am. What’s next?”
“Didn’t drop any eggshells in there? Good. Now, time to put the dry ingredients together into the larger bowl. Most of the ingredients have already been measured out. You just need to measure out the flour. Three cups should do it.”
With another nod, Soarin’ stepped over to the measuring cup and flour. He had screwed up royally on this step before. Measuring wasn’t exactly his forte. Picking up the slightly heavy flour sack with one hoof, he began to pour in into the measuring cup on the counter. The flow of flour was not constant, instead increasing and decreasing at random intervals. Mrs. Cake steadied his hoof, allowing him to measure more accurately. Satisfied, he poured the cups of flour in one by one.
“Alright. now, put the butter in with the eggs, and mix them with the dry ingredients.”
Soarin’ did as told, mixing the ingredients until they were as smooth as possible. Mrs. Cake put the mixture in the oven for approximately twenty minutes, allowing it to bake a bit and form the crust for the pie. Soarin’ watched avidly taking notes of all of the steps and procedures for his own use at home.
“Alright. We’re making apple pie today. So, you need to take those freshly diced apples, and add a bit of cinnamon, a hint of nutmeg, and about a cup of sugar to them. Got it?”
Soarin’ nodded again. He felt a pride in himself as he mixed the filling exactly according to Mrs. Cake’s directions. Occasionally, he would mess up a measurement, or mix too quickly, but Mrs. Cake always directed him towards the right path. For the first time, he believed that his baking attempts were going to proceed.
“Alright, we’ll let the crust cool for about ten minutes, then pour in the filing and bake it fully. We’ll put the top crust on when it’s time to bake.” A grateful nod from Soarin’ signalled that he had understood her direction. He felt a deep pride in himself for coming so far in such a short time.
Forty minutes later, the pie had been removed from the oven a fully baked. Soarin’ looked at it in awe. A golden brown crust, slightly fluffier than normal, but still crispy to the touch. A beautiful orangish colored apple filling caused him to drool. The smell of fresh dessert hung heavy in the air like a blanket over a sleeping child, soothing him to his very soul.
“Wow! Thanks, Mrs. Cake! You’re really good at this, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been doing this for a living for nearly thirty years, honey. I know what I’m doing by now. Speaking of which, you managed to pick everything up pretty quickly. I’d say that all you needed was a push in the right direction. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to. I wish you the best of luck in your future baking ventures!” Mrs. Cake said, smiling as she walked out of the door.
Soarin’ smiled and waved, deciding to take a bite out of his new pie. A cascade of flavor washed over him like a waterfall, coating his tastebuds in a little piece of apple heaven. It was on par even with that glorious pie that he’d had at the Gala, such a long time ago. With a smile, Soarin’ exited the shop, pie in tow, and waved goodbye to its inhabitants.
Today had been a good day. He’d learned something new. He’d acquired a skill that he’d always wanted. All that was left now was for him to continue practicing, perfecting his craft. With a smile, Soarin’ began to fly back towards his home at the Wonderbolts camp. Perhaps baking a pie wasn’t so hard after all. Perhaps, he only needed a push in the right direction, to awaken what had been inside him the entire time.