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strangetrip2017-02-03 06:31 pm
st_oh_honestly) wrote in strangetrip2017-02-03 06:31 pm
Entry tags:
[EP] Tea and Cookies
For a few weeks Dot had just pitched in where it seemed like she would be useful and tried to pick up any interesting information for her notebook. Not that she'd learned anything too terribly useful, certainly nothing that would lead to a way home. Then she'd discovered the small bakery in the corner of the main cafe that seemed to be the unofficial gathering place.
She watched it for a few days and then poked about in the pantry kitchen before deciding that what everyone needed - aside from a priest to give mass on Sunday - was cookies.
And bread.
And possibly scones.
What she made would be decided by what she could find in the pantry but most baked goods started with flour, butter, eggs and milk. So many of the people here seemed to lack... well what Dot thought of as essential skills. At least for a woman of her class. What Dot could do with a little flour and some eggs was a sight to be seen.
Which was why the pastry case was currently bursting with cookies, a pot of tea was ready on a side table and Dot was kneading bread at the counter wearing an apron over the most demure clothing the little boutique had to offer.
She may or may not have a smudge of flour on her nose.
She watched it for a few days and then poked about in the pantry kitchen before deciding that what everyone needed - aside from a priest to give mass on Sunday - was cookies.
And bread.
And possibly scones.
What she made would be decided by what she could find in the pantry but most baked goods started with flour, butter, eggs and milk. So many of the people here seemed to lack... well what Dot thought of as essential skills. At least for a woman of her class. What Dot could do with a little flour and some eggs was a sight to be seen.
Which was why the pastry case was currently bursting with cookies, a pot of tea was ready on a side table and Dot was kneading bread at the counter wearing an apron over the most demure clothing the little boutique had to offer.
She may or may not have a smudge of flour on her nose.
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She wasn't sure if it was loneliness or not wanting to seem like a lump--though if she were honest with herself it was probably more the former--she added softly, "Last place I was in didn't have chocolate."
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"We didn't have it much when I was growing up, too many mouths and not enough money. But my mum would make cocoa sometimes, for the end of Lent and Christmas."
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Bear, Regina, and Sissy, or physical safety?
That wasn't a hard choice.
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"The war was like that, I was just a girl, but I was old enough to know about the rationing and to understand why we couldn't have certain things. And we weren't even on the continent, can't imagine what it was like for the boys fighting."
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By the time she'd finally got away, it was a wonder she remembered how to talk at all.
"Which war?" she asked finally.
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"The war in Europe." The ways she said it, it was obvious she thought everyone would know what she meant. She poured a cup of tea for herself, and took a cookie before facing the younger woman.
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Then again, she didn't much look like she was born in the early 1860s anymore. When she'd been traveling she'd dressed in men's clothing for ease of movement. And then in Gotham she hadn't had access to--or desire for--clothing from her era. She'd been all too happy to learn that corsets were no longer anything but a fringe interest.
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"I'm Dot." She offered instead of more information.
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"Snow White," she offered in turn, though very quietly and a bit of a mumbled mush as she was practically speaking into her teacup.
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"I've never met anyone named after... weather." She smiled, she wasn't teasing. "I do have a niece named Poppy. Like the flower? Well, actually she's named Margaret but we already have a Peggy and and a Meg. So Poppy it was."
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She didn't know how to be anyone other than Snow White anymore. Even if the name had come not for cleverness, beauty, or sweetness, but something her stepmother knew she couldn't be.
"For color," she said softly. "Not weather."
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"I think I prefer that. It's nicer isn't it. If it's weather its, cold and wet and not always pleasant. But if it's a color, it's clean and bright." Dot's name was just solid, dependable.
"I was named after a martyred saint."
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"Well Dorothy was a martyr, a bride of Christ, and when she was killed she was mocked by a man." Dot cracked a couple eggs into a bowl and started adding sugar and butter and other wet ingredients.
"He told her to send him fruits and flowers from her bridegrooms garden, from Christ he meant. From heaven. So she took off the crown she wore on her way to her death and had it sent to him, it was full of dates and berries and roses. It inspired him to become a Christian, and then later he died on the rack."
She half shrugged and added a bowl of dry ingredients and mixed.
"So should I make more chocolate chip, or something else?"
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"There's always other things to make, but the chocolate ones do seem to be popular." That made her decision, and she rummaged around for more of the bits of chocolate and added them.
"Would you like to help put them on baking sheets?"
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"I try to make them about the size of two shillings," she held up her fingers making a circle. "But you're the one with spoon, so as long as they're all about the same size."
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Snow White nodded and wordlessly set about the task, trying to get the globs of dough to match the size that Dot had indicated and giving them space to spread out while they baked.