milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's nearly time, do you know where your happy hour tender is? Well, to be fair, neither does the guy inside of the kitchens tonight. Which is why Beauford leans out to check, he's got a napkin waiting for him on the bar.

"...sure, I can pick up a shift.."

With that the napkin disappears.

"...oh, you mean tonight." He's just going to pull off the grungy kitchen apron and reach over to write on the specials board for tonight with a chalk marker.

Tonight's Happy Hour Specials
Banana Daquari
Snocone Martini
Lemon Lavender Cheesecake Martini
1/2 off all Cider and Wines

Dinner Specials
Chipolte Mac n Cheese
Smoked Caramel Onion Barbeque Ribs with sweet potato steak fries
French Onion Soup with summer berry salad

"Come an get it!"

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"You made this yourself?"

Color him impressed.

He accepts the silverware with thanks and digs in, making an appreciative noise at the first bite.

"I made all of the dinner specials tonight myself." Beauford grins proudly. "And ciders aside I can mix all of the drink specials, as well."

...the grin got just a little wider at the noise at the first bite of the dish.

"This is really good," Darius says, not quite swallowing before he starts to talk. "Are you a chef?"

"Only to pay my way of room and board here, but yes, a chef."

"Do you like it? Because I'm only judging on this, but you're pretty good."

"I do, but I've already worked in professional kitchens. I'm not keen to go back to the ones there." The nightmares of bridezillas and banquets.

"I'm happy working here for now. I hope to get a historical archivist job, someday."

Darius raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah? What exactly does a historical archivist do?"

"Record, correlate, upkeep and collect data from multiple sources, with occaissional historical contexts experiments based on region and era of interest."

"Wow. Sounds...complicated," he says with a nod.

"I love it, don't get me started on cupriolithic kuneforms, or the early architecture of Arctic Nomads."

Naked glee could not be more obvious than the way he lights up at those subjects.

"I'd just end up making your eyes glaze over."

They're already starting to, in fact.

"Right. I'll keep that in mind. Maybe we should restrict the conversation to the cheesy goodness you whip up in that kitchen."

"You think that's good, you oughta try the pork ribs, or better yet...I've got frozen custard leftover from the last big party I served at."

Oh, that brings a grin to his face. "Frozen custard, hm?"

"Among other items, there's nothing left of the gelato now."

Gelato he's not sure he knows, but frozen custard? That reminds him of home.

"If your custard's half as good as this, I'll be in heaven," he says, finishing off the mac and cheese.

"I'll take that bet, you up for buying a bowl of it?"

"Absolutely."

Mwahahahahaha...

Yeah, he's just going to grin and duck in back for a little bowl of the pale creamy yellow treat.

"It also has just a hint of heat to go with the cold."

Darius arches a wary eyebrow at that. "Oh, does it now?"

"Just a hint, it's not going to make you want to run crying for water, I'm not a sadist."

Unless you make a Mad Dog Tannen joke, then you're asking for the trouble.

Darius has no such intentions.

He gives the boy a look that suggests he's still a bit skeptical but he takes a bite of the custard anyway.

Sweet, sweet, sweet, not all refined sugar-sweet, there's the natural flavor of the banana sweetening the custard. And then there's the slightly sharper hint of heat from the habanero peppers, just a touch of it.

Darius lets it melt on his tongue, feeling remarkably decadent.

"Mmmmmm..."

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