cooking lesson

Clint sets Natasha to chopping produce, since he knows she’s comfortable with a knife in her hand, and he watches in morbid fascination as she takes out her frustrations on the carrots, onions and celery.

He dices the still-steaming chicken and guides her through the spice cabinet. “Thyme.” “Basil.” “Bay leaves.” She does all the measuring, turning to him for confirmation before dumping it into the pot.

“This is stupid,” she says, and he says, “This is what people do, Tash,” and she says “People are stupid,” and he silently agrees.

They bring Tony chicken soup anyway. And more Kleenex.

Cute :)

Thanks! That's what I was going for :)

<3 The simplicity, the imagery, the scents that it conjures up... Love!

<3 back atcha :)

*kinda wants chicken soup herself, only it's about 100 degrees outside...*

:)

Being a vegetarian does have its downsides; I have fond, fond memories of chicken soup, especially homemade. Mm.

I'm vegetarian and I want to try what they're cooking. YUM.

Also, Clint's reasoning for giving Natasha the knife, and Natasha slicing up innocent vegetables XD

*grins* I love it! Of course she would think it's stupid! But she does it anyway... and he helps her! *hugs them* *hugs you*

Aww I love hugs. And sometimes you just need a little fluff in your life, ya know?

Natasha hadn't had a chance to play in her new kitchen since she moved in. No sooner had she and Clint finished unloading the boxes in their apartment than her work phone started to ring, and off she had gone to Montreal for a month.

But she was back, and she had a few days off, so one Thursday, she'd woken up and decided to cook. She'd christen her kitchen with pelmeni, because whatever Clint had been cooking while she'd been away didn't count.

He turned up around lunchtime. Unexpectedly, as he'd driven off to the San Diego office that morning.

“Hey?” Natasha called out, leaning back to peer around the half-walls at the entrance without moving from the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” Clint said, and she could hear the quiet thump of shoes coming off. As he walked into view, she raised her eyebrows at him slightly, but he just shrugged and walked over to her. He stood behind her, put his hands on her hips and rested his head against the back of hers for a long moment.

Silence, then. She could roll with that, and she continued to fold the pastries and press them shut with her fingers.

“What you making?” Clint asked at last, having shifted so he can watch her hands.

“Pelmeni. Make a large quantity, freeze them in batches,” she said, changing her hand movements to cut out another circle of pastry dough. “You've caught me in the process of doing it properly.”

“You can cheat?”

“You can cheat,” Natasha agreed, and gestured with her head towards her dumpling mold sitting unused on the counter. “That thing makes twenty-four at once. I'll cheat later,” she added with a quick smile.

“How do you make them?” he asked, and it was more than curiosity in his voice. There was a question, a request for calm and steady and harmless words to fill the air.

“They're fairly simple, just time-consuming,” Natasha said, and started to explain about fillings and pork and garlic. By the time she was talking about peppercorns and oil in the water, she was fairly certain he wasn't listening to the actual words at all.

She didn't mind.

Edited 2012-08-18 02:01 pm (UTC)

Ooooo...that was lovely! :D

:D! Thank you

Aw, lovely! That's so calm and gentle, I love it. And them. Natasha cooking will always be a favourite of mine now I think :D

:D! Thank you so much!

And Natasha cooks a lot in my head for some reason, so I'm glad someone else enjoys it.