Lord of the Rings Fanatics Plaza

Chef Aduchil, here to clast your icons

Aduchil watched them flock around his tower, digging in. Wondrous! The cake of oppression was toppled, and the hungry masses fed! He sent an affectionate glance at the cinnamon woman - not a rival, as he thought, but a fellow iconoclast. Even the new judge joined in with gusto. Aduchil spread out his arms as if the sound of their tastebuds popping vitalised him. "Power! Unlimited power!"

Still caught in a trance, he barely caught the new instructions. Honey? Good. Kale? Acceptable. Bacon? If ethically sourced. Together? No! How would that even work? Honey and kale were mortal enemies, ever since the great buzzing of year 3012, when bees discovered that kale offers no nectar. Shaken to his core, Aduchil found a seat after pushing someone else off and taking their chair. All furniture was collectively owned in Imladris, anyway, else it should be.

Calm. Zen. Tranquil. If the honey could be introduced separately, gluing itself to something other than the kale, this could be salvaged. There was only one solution, and it was nuts. Eyeing the table of ingredients, Aduchil saw generous amounts of the required items. With shifty looks, he stole over to the table and grabbed a large pot of honey. Ideally, he would have made it himself after living in a commune with the bees for a fortnight, but this would have to do. Ample servings of bacon and kale as well, but more was needed. A pitcher of yoghurt, glass of mayonnaise – he had salt, pepper, and cane sugar already. He only lacked… disaster!

Surveying the fruits and vegetables on offer, he saw not what he needed. “A pomegranate! My commune for a pomegranate!” He rushed around the hall until he spotted a person of authority. Overcoming his instincts, Aduchil approached the judge. “I am in urgent need of a pomegranate! It must be juicy, it must be red, it must be fair trade! Please, the muse of cuisine calls upon you!”

Satisfied that they could never overhear such a request, Aduchil rushed back to his kitchen. Nuts! He forgot the nuts. Walnuts and hazelnuts for this one. He scooped up a good portion of either. Weird, there was not many nuts left on the table of ingredients. He wondered which greedy cook was hogging all the tree berries.

Enough idle speculation. Work awaited. Heating up his stove, Aduchil dug out one pan and one pot. The pot was given some water to steam up. Once it was ready, Aduchil put in the kale to let it get steamed, preserving the nutrition. As for the pan, a hefty dose of honey was splattered across. As things heated up, Aduchil crushed the nuts into small bite sizes and threw them on the pan, roasting them in the honey.

Everything progressed nicely. The dressing! Yoghurt. Mayonnaise. A tablespoon of cane sugar, salt and pepper, a good stir. That would do. Would a splash of mustard be needed? Perhaps to balance the sweetness of the honey. Yes. A little whip of mustard, and the dressing was done.

At this moment in the time, the lid on Aduchil’s pot decided to fly sky high. Alas, the ceiling was in the way, sending a debris of broken tiles down. Grabbing his pot and pan, Aduchil pulled both away just in time. “Nice try, burgeo… burgeouis… burgois… enemies of the kitchen! You will have to be faster than that to sabotage the work of the cookitariat.”

Both hands full left Aduchil in a slight quandary. Finally, he resolved to use one foot to push away the debris, clearing his stove. Back the pan and pot went, the latter now lidless. What happened to the lid? Aduchil looked around but could not find it. Stolen by some jealous rival, no doubt, or perhaps taken as a memento by a zealous fan. No matter. The water still boiled in the bottom, steaming up the kale. Lemon juice and salt strewn across the green stalks for extra flavour, and it would soon be done.

Nuts! They were done. Aduchil poured them into a bowl and renewed the honey popping on the pan. Bacon pieces went in next, roasting in the honey to combine sweet and salt flavours. Oh yes. Everything was coming up Aduchil.

Aduchil surveyed the field of battle. A simple dish, just about done, but a triumph all the same. Healthy, nutritious, good for digestion, and serviceable as grease for a cart in a pinch. Everything was ready for assembly.

Kale, steamed, juiced, salted, and cut into small bites. Dressing on top, stirred around, keeping the kale from being dry. Honey-roasted nuts and bacon to give crunch and extra flavours. Perfect. Or was it? Something felt lacking.

One of the judges appeared. Aduchil could not tell who it was – at this point, they all smelled the same to him. The judge extended a hand holding this oversized, ugly apple. “What. Is. That?” He grabbed the fruit, not paying attention to the answer from the judge.

Aduchil took a bite. This tasted awful! It angered Aduchil’s sensibilities. He grabbed a kitchen knife, threw the malicious malum into the air, and cut it in two. The halves fell on the table, displaying a treasure trove inside. Little red beads, beautiful in colour. Enthralled, Aduchil put one in his mouth. Sweet flavour overflowed. Tears appeared in his eyes.

“Mon ami, you have saved my dish! So selfless, so brave, such timing! Like a chef ex machina!” Overcome with emotion, Aduchil planted his hands on the judge’s face and kissed their cheeks in exuberance.

Done with his fraternising, Aduchil disembowelled the pomegranate. Rubies fell in cascades into his salad, adding colour and flavour. Nothing left to add, nothing left to remove. Dividing the salad onto plates, Aduchil scooped up forks and served his cruciferous meal.

OOC: Give me a sixer or give me death. If any judge wants to be the unfortunate soul sent pomegranating, be my guest and RP away.

A Dog's Tale

Yávië snapped a fly out of the air with a lazy click of his jaw and looked proudly at his mistress. She did not gush over him, or scritch his ears, or so much as call him a wonderful puppy-wuppy. In fact, she seemed rather flustered. He dropped the slobbery bug on her shoe as a peace offering and nudged hopefully at her hand. It didn't work out quite as he'd expected.

But no matter! All thoughts of insects and elves and luxurious afternoon belly rubs were driven from his mind by the blue-clad elf at the front of the room. Bacon.

The wolfhound had many opinions about bacon. He had shared them in grand speeches to several Mordagnirs, one relieved rabbit, and the occasional passing bear. His now well-polished monologue went something like this: "Bacon is the perfect food for breakfast. It is the perfect food for lunch. It is the perfect food to steal from the dinner table. It is perfect raw. It is perfect burnt. It is perfect when you scald your tongue pulling it out of the frying pan when no one is looking. It is especially perfect when no one is looking and you're in the pantry with nothing between you and a side of bacon. Do you have any bacon?" It wasn't always a very effective speech, but it came from the heart.

Now he watched in puzzlement as Aerlinn bustled around with armfuls of leafy green stuff, sweet sticky stuff, and stacks of cheese. Well, he understood the cheese. You put a big chunk of cheese on a plate alongside a teetering pile of bacon slices and ta-da! Instant winner! Unbeatable! Even he knew that, and he was a dog. Why was everyone making life so difficult for themselves? His way even left time for a nice long nap.

With that thought in mind, he delicately selected a thick cut of the bacon--oops, was that three slices stuck together? never mind--from Aerlinn's work station while she was digging around in the pantry and sank down to the floor to savor his prize and watch the odd proceedings sleepily.

One bottle smelled a bit like the cider mill at Linyamaril, another like tomatoes, another like it would make him sneeze if he got too close. He watched his elf stir them together in a saucepan with the honey, which smelled like something small and sharp stabbing into his nose. He whimpered involuntarily at the memory and was rewarded with a piece of oooh, was that beef? Scrumptious! He tried another soft whining sound, but it appeared that Aerlinn had hardened her heart. Fickle immortals.

The leafy green stuff went into another pan with oil and small white bits that smelled like the thing Yávië had been told never to touch. Naturally, this meant he stolen a taste as soon the opportunity arose, but it had been bitter and burned his mouth.

He was just starting to fall into a proper doze when the scent hit him--Aerlinn was frying the bacon! And not only bacon. There was sizzling beef! There was melting white cheddar cheese! Oh, glorious day! Yávië scrambled to his feet and began to pay proper attention. All it would take was one slip of the spatula, one tilt of the pan!

The spatula did not slip and the pan did not tilt, but there was a bit extra. "You're my mosh faboriste eluf in the whole wod," he said to Aerlinn around a mouthful of minced beef and honey-glazed bliss. It sounded like "rrrwoofchompnomnomnom," but he knew she'd understand. He continued to gaze at her soulfully as she piled beef patty, cheese, bacon, sauce, and kale between two slices of toasted round bread and trailed after her all the way to the front table. He looked from his elf, to the judges, to the other contestants and their bacon with big, doleful eyes. No two-legger had ever said "pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease" so clearly.

"I present to you an Outdoor-Grill-Picnic Sauce Bacon Cheeseburger. The name, uh, came to me in a dream." Aerlinn said in front of him.

12 sided or bust!

Ducky stared at the three ingredients the judges had laid out on each station. He was glad they came labeled, he had never heard of anything called kale before, and he would have guessed it was some sort of liquid, not this plant or whatever it was. It was kind of cute, though, and that gave him an idea.

He took the bacon strips and cut them much more narrowly. Very very thin, he thought to himself. He would need many more strips of them. When he thought he had enough (in a few different colors, because some were fattier than others), he cooked some of them in order to get even more color variety. Then he sorted them by color, and laid them out, forming them into poses. Sort of like this:





Then he took the kale and ripped it apart into pieces, aligning them with his bacon bodies in order to give them all sorts of little clothes: bowties, dresses, gloves and boots, suits, hats, and robes. One even got a kale wizard hat. Finally, he carefully dolloped the honey out carefully in order to create eyes, noses, and little mouths (although some of the mouths ended up looking like they were drooling because of the way the honey fell onto the plate).

"Awwww, so cute!" he squealed to himself. "Look, judges, I've recreated everyone here in the hall. Whom are you going to eat first?" he asking, grinning ear to ear.

OOC: Ride the 12 sides, baby!

Arphen

Another good round, she was pleased to find the judges liked her cake. She tried not to take it personally that she had lost a point with the guest judge for being tired. Hopefully the next challenge wouldn't be as complicated. While she waited for the judging to finish, she took a small slice of each cake. The citrus was certainly helping to wake her up, along with the sugar from the fondant. Now she was ready for the next round.

Kale, bacon, and honey. Kale, green leaves that her children had hated until they were grown. Bacon, perfect for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Honey, at its best when as fresh as possible. How could she combine the three? Taking a few of her fondant flowers, a little pick me up, she began to think. Dessert didn't seem like it would work, despite how wild some of her competitors could be with food it wasn't really her style. Something for dinner, she mused, chewing on the sugary flowers. There was definitely some other items on the table she could use, they would perfectly compliment the ingredients.

Off to the ingredients table she went, picking up chicken, soft cheese, garlic, sweet potatoes, red onion, and parsnips. String, a meat tenderiser, two trays, she took from the tools area. Balancing it all she hurried back to her bench to get started. First, she needed a nice flat piece of chicken. Laying out the chicken breast she picked up the little hammer and smiled. Then she began to bash the living daylights out of the meat, with each blow she felt a little more of her stress and tension of the competition ease out. Finally she had a nice flat piece of chicken and she felt completely at peace.

The chicken needed a filling though. The kale went into a pan of boiling water and she watched it like a hawk as it cooked. She didn't want it to boil away to mush after all. At the moment she was sure it was done, she drained off the water and placed the pan on ice to cool off the kale. In a bowl she mixed together the soft cheese, the garlic once it was crushed, and a little salt and pepper. It smelled good, she loved the smell of garlic, but she resisted the urge to take a bite. No one would come near her for hours if she started eating raw garlic. Once the kale was cool, she mixed it in as well before spreading it across the chicken. Arphen rolled the chicken so the filling sat neatly in the middle. The bacon, the delicious bacon, was wrapped around the outside and tied into place with the string. It was a little parcel of tastiness.

The vegetables were easy enough, chopped and put into a tray. She mixed the honey with oil, salt, and pepper, before pouring it over the top of the vegetables. The tray of meat and the tray of vegetables had to cook now, giving her a chance to clean up. It was always easier to clean as she went rather than wait until the very end of it all. With a sparkling clean bench, she took the now cooked food out. Cutting the string gave her a little fear, hopefully it wouldn't fall apart once she cut the string, put it seemed to hold together. It went onto one side of the plate, the vegetables on the other, with a little drizzle of the sauce over the top. "Kale and soft cheese stuffed chicken, wrapped in bacon, with a side of honey roasted vegetables. I hope you enjoy it."

OOC: 6 sided dice please

Viola, utterly ashamed hobbit

Well, Viola didn’t think it could get much worse after the blackberry tart fiasco but apparently it could. She had no idea how the toe hair had gotten into the cake. (She’d quietly eaten the rest of it when the judges had moved on to the next contestant and only found another two. Silarien had been very unlucky.) She was now flushed so red from embarrassment and the stout that she could’ve been mistaken for a gigantic brown-haired strawberry.

There was another challenge to go. Would this torture never end? Even Daisy’s smile was looking rather forced now, more of a grimace than a look of genuine enjoyment.

The hobbit was flummoxed by this new task. Honey, bacon and.. kale?? What was she meant to do with that? It seemed that she couldn’t just ditch it, either. Pity. She’d just ignore that bit for now.

Bacon always made her think of second breakfast, so Viola decided she would do some version of that. First, though, she would have another nip of stout to settle her nerves. This stuff was good. She wondered how much room they had on the cart home. Daisy could always walk.

Things were looking pretty bleak for Viola’s prospects in the competition, unless she could really pull something out of the bag. Or… drag someone else down. But who should she attempt to sabotage? Viola covertly swept the room with her eyes whilst she walked to the produce table. The fancy elf with his chef’s hat seemed to be doing very well. And if his last two dishes were anything to go by, he liked his nuts. It’d be a shame if someone else were to take them all before he could get to them. Even though she had no use for them, other than the necessary snacking, Viola quickly grabbed a couple of bowls of nuts, took them back to her workbench, and hid them under a tea towel. Let’s see how Aduchil manages without them now. For her own meal, and because no meal is complete without them, she took a basket of mushrooms, a few potatoes, a couple of juicy tomatoes, and an onion from the produce table.

Feeling quite satisfied with herself, Viola peeled her potatoes and put them in a pot with water to boil. Potatoes were about the only thing the hobbit could semi-reliably cook - boiled, mashed, stuck in a stew. She diced up the onion, sliced the mushrooms and fried both while the potato cooked. The hobbit popped the tomatoes in the fire pit and left them to roast.

When the potatoes were nice and tender, she drained them off and carefully grate them into a bowl with the onion, added an egg, and mixed it all together into a big clump. She took handfuls of the mix and put them in a frying pan. There was a lot of frying going on in this meal. Could elves get clogged arteries? She put the slab of bacon into the pan as well and put a good lump of honey on top of it. The meat gave off a delicious smell as it caramelised in the pan. Viola would be finishing this dish off too if the judges didn’t - there was a still a bit of space besides the wedding cake and the blackberry tart from earlier.

A loud bang was followed by tiles clattering to the floor. A pot lid rolled over beside her foot. It was Aduchil’s. He’d probably need it. Viola subtly kicked it as far as possible, towards the back of the kitchen, and tried to suppress a chuckle as the flamboyant elf searched for it.

With only a few minutes to go, she noticed the horrid green kale lurking on the side of her workbench. Ugh. With no inspiration, she decided to chuck it in a pot and, as with all her cooking, hope for the best. With the final minute, she drained the kale and put it on the plate, disguised under the hash browns. She slid the bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes on beside it, and took it up to the judges.

“This is a Bree Second Breakfast, with -“ she said the next word with distaste “- kale”.

((OOC: Another 12 die please! And attempting to sabotage Aduchil because this will probably be Viola’s only chance))

Eldûrien, Elf (she/her), Ragin’ like a Cajun

How could they not have thought her pancakes were fantastic? The idea that somehow she had not come away with glowing reviews and adulation galled Eldûrien to her core. Figwit was right! He knew! He knew how snooty and stuck up they’d be, he knew they’d say “this is not a cake” in the most condescendingly incorrect way. It was a cake! It had the word cake in the name! She fumed at her station when they announced the scores. She was not doing poorly, by a normal rubric, but by her own metric she was failing. It wasn’t her fault of course, it was those judges. Elves were so… so conservative. Eldûrien would go to a wedding with a pancake cake and find the whole ordeal, well, rather tedious and annoying as weddings are wont to be but at least she would enjoy the pancake! Oh Figwit, what were they going to do now?

They announced the next stage of the competition, a round where she would have to use ingredient they picked. She rolled her eyes visibly at this. The ingredients though, were not nearly as bad as she expected. Bacon she could work with; honey, well there were plenty of things she could do with that; and kale, which looked no different from spinach. Okay, okay, she could make something. She was going to need something though, something she was sure they didn’t have readily prepared for her.

“Hey!” she shouted at the nearby elf, a timid, arrogant thing she was able to slice into. “I need lamb hearts, several of them.” The elf just… just stared at her like she had said the entire demand in Dwarven. “Are you deaf? Get me my hearts, or I will just use yours.” That got him moving! If she wasn’t so annoyed and stressed, Eldûrien would have cracked a very wide, very malevolent smile, but there as no time for that, not today. She had lamb heart skewers to make.

She grabbed as much bacon as she could, all the other contestants seemed to already be at it, and took all the bits and pieces and fatty ends. She could make them work. The kale, Sauron’s black earth there was so much kale, was harder to get. Not in a sense that it was difficult to obtain, but it was difficult for her to want to get it. Nonetheless, she grabbed a few handfuls of the leafy monstrosity and took them back to her table. A jar of honey sat conspicuously in the center of the table. The hearts were still not there. She eyes the rest of the kitchen staff. If they weren’t here soon she would have to give serious though to taking some of theirs.

In the meantime, she shuffled through her cabinets, in search of some other reading material accidentally left behind. Perhaps this wonderful Figwit would have written a book on heart skewers. Too much to hope for? Probably, though she would have no trouble with that recipe. Though if she made it through to the next round, she was going to need all the help Figwit was willing to give her. Surely there would be a book around here somewhere.

Eldûrien, though, would not have the chance to look. Her hearts arrived!

The timid little lamb child set the hearts, all cleaned and trimmed, on her work space then scampered off before Eldûrien could say anything. Good. She began slicing up the bits of bacon she had, making sure the pieces were nice and thick so they wouldn’t fall off the skewers and ruin her presentation. While the bacon was cooking, Eldûrien returned to the ingredient table and began gathering her secondary ingredients: shallots, a yellow onion, red wine vinegar, olive oil, garlic (and an extra clove for herself), and ginger. Once she returned, she began slicing the hearts into cubes and tossed them in a bowl with the honey, shallots, and olive oil, letting the whole thing marinate while she prepared the rest. She soaked the bamboo skewers, then chopped the onion into large chunks. Finally, the bacon was ready. She separated the meat from the fat, pouring a little of the latter in with the marinating hearts, and set it aside.

She minced the garlic and popped the extra clove into her mouth as she worked, letting it sit in her cheek as she chopped. After the garlic came the ginger; she minced that as well then added the rest of the shallots into the mixture, along with the remaining olive oil and red wine vinegar. She whisked the dressing together and an idea came into her head. There was going to be peppers in her dish, but there was no reason there could not be fire. She grabbed a bottle of alcohol, it really didn’t matter what kind it was as long as it was strong, and set it aside.

Once the meat had marinated, she began lining the skewers: a piece of heart, a piece of onion, a piece of bacon, and repeat until the skewer was full. Once all the skewers were ready, Eldûrien placed them on the grill and let them cook, turning them once, twice, thrice, until each side was done.

She glared at the kale. There was no room for kale on this dish. She pursed her lips in frustrated thought. What would she do with the ugly green leaf? It was a useless annoying plant. It mocked her from where it sat on the table. She wanted to kick it. It deserved to be trampled underfoot for being so damned useless and bad. Oh, well there’s an idea. She’d just use it as presentation, put the skewers, the real food, on top of it. The judges never said how the ingredients needed to be used. She chuckled to herself. Perfect.

Once the skewers were set and placed neatly on the kale leaves, she made her way to the judges’ table. She artfully curtsied and placed each dish before the judges. From under her arm, she pulled the bottle of alcohol (something called vod’ka?), uncorked it and took a swig. Taking a few steps back, she took out a match, struck it and blew the alcohol out in a great fiery arc.

“I do hope you enjoy it,” she said with a wicked grin. “It’ll burn the heart out of you.”

OOC: Might as well go for a d12 this round

Starbreeze, a wizzie

Bacon, honey and kale, eh? What a combination. Salty, sweet and bitter. She would need something to balance those flavours and bring them together....she absent-mindedly tapped her staff against the floor as she thought. She took a little walk around the ingredients table, collecting the bacon, kale and honey as she went. Hmming every so often, she picked out a pat of butter from the middle of the pile where it was coldest, then walked around the table a little more.

On the next pass she took a jar of flour. an onion and some eggs, and took them back to her station. Then, staff tapping away, she went back for another pass and picked up olive oil, milk, nutmeg and cheese.

She started by setting some olive oil in a pan to heat, then browning off the bacon, until the fat caramelised. Whilst that was cooking she grated a chunk of the cheese and beat the eggs, and cut the kale to remove the tough stems and shred the leaves.

"OK, here goes!" she muttered to herself, about to embark on one of cooking's trickiest pursuits...pastry. It was only shortcrust, but she had learned that you were either good at making bread (warm hands) OR pastry (cold hands), but rarely both. She hoped the butter was cold enough.

She cubed the butter into a bowl, then sifted the flour in, rubbing the two between her fingertips until they combined to form the appearance of breadcrumbs. Next she added a few spoonfuls of water and mixed, adding a splash more water when the dough remained crumbly. Finally she had a firm dough, which she rolled out promptly before it got too hot and melted the butter. Laying it over a pie tin and pushing it firmly against the base and the pretty scalloped edge, she pricked the base with a fork and lined it with parchment paper. She didn't have any ceramic baking beads in her supplies, so she shuffled over to the ingredients table and picked up a jar of dried beans, which she scattered into the parchment instead. They would serve the same purpose to stop the pastry from rising.

She popped the pastry base into the oven to harden, and returned to the bacon which was now nicely brown. Taking it off the heat, she drizzled the honey over the bacon, stirring it all together with the bacon fat to make a glaze, then allowing the fat and excess honey to drain off the bacon, she took the bacon out of the pan, and replaced it with the kale which she would saute in the bacon fat and honey, combining the flavours further.

While the kale was starting to soften she roughly chopped the bacon and put it to one side, then moving on to chop the onions which were added to the pan with the kale, just to soften, she did not want them caramelised as they would add to the bitterness of the dish. Once kale and onion where both softened but not coloured, she turned off the heat and left them to one side.

Now, the custard. She took the beaten eggs, the milk and a grating of the nutmeg and whisked them together in a large bowl, then going on to add the bacon, kale, onion and most of the cheese, along with a generous seasoning of salt and pepper. A quick stir was all that was needed and then the filling was ready.

As it happened, the pastry was ready too, what good timing...magical timing...she chuckled softly to herself as she extracted the pie base from the oven. She enjoyed the good dollop sound as she poured the filling into the pie crust, and sprinkled the remaining cheese on top. The quiche would require another 50 minutes or so in the oven and then 15 minutes to cool before it could be served, so once it was in the oven she busied herself with tidying up the messes she had made in the last two rounds...she might need some of those bowls and utensils again, and quite honestly the cakes had been very messy, mostly due to the propensity of powdered sugar and flour to liberally dust everything in sight.

Finally, work station clean, the quiche was ready. She took a sprig of parsley from the table and laid it gently on top of the warm quiche, presented on a plate ready for tasting.

6-sided die please

Veowyn - no cinnamon?

She frowned. Apparently the judges could not agree on her cake. The cinnamon was not right, but it also was the best part, and there was not enough going on with the decoration? And there was something wrong with hearts...on a wedding cake? One eye brow rose in confusion, while her arms folded across her chest. She did not like how low this round put her on the list. She was going to have to come up with something spectacular for the next round.

They gave specific ingredients for the next round: Bacon, Kale, and Honey. Her oldest peaked into the kitchen. "Amme, are you gonna make my recipe?" She nodded, he beamed and helped her gather the ingredients. In no particular order they collected apple-cider vinegar, salt, water (they placed in small pot near the fires so it could start heating up), olive oil, a large squash, tomatoes, cheese, flour, and that fancy make it rise quick yeast stuff. They also grabbed several herbs and spices. Pepper, cayenne pepper, paprika, red pepper flakes, oregano, thyme, garlic, basil, sage, rosemary, and a few others. And of course they grabbed plenty of the main three, Kale, Bacon, and Honey. She shooed Thorion off, promising him that she had it handled from here. "I got this." She winked a blue eye at him.

In a small pan she combined a generous helping of honey, with the vinegar, as well as the cayenne and the red pepper flakes, and just a pinch of salt. She heated it to boiling, then let it simmer for a few minutes. She then set it to the side in another container, to cool. After setting two flat stones inside one of the ovens, she then retrieved the water she had been warming. Then she added a little bit of the honey, the olive oil and the yeast. She let it sit for a few minutes while she measured out the other ingredients. She mixed most of the other seasonings, (except paprika and black pepper), with some salt and the flour. She then added this mix, to the previous mixture. She mixed with a wooden spoon until it formed a ball, then she turned it out on to a floured surface and kneaded until it was a smooth ball. She then split it into two even portions.

She then fried up the bacon strips. She cut and diced up the squash, and then sauteed those until they were easy to poke. She then added the kale and paprika, and cooked just until the kale wilted a little. She then diced up the tomatoes, then used a wooden spoon in a bowl to crush them up more, adding salt and pepper as she did. Once that was all done, it was time to put every thing together!

She stretched out both balls of dough, giving each a little twirling toss into the air even. Once they were spread out enough, she spooned the tomato mixture onto the doughs, then added small chunks of cheese, and topped with the bacon, squash, and kale. Then she transferred them to the stones in the oven and let them bake. Once the crust was golden, and the cheese melted, she used a large wooden spatula like tool to pull them out and transfer each to round platters. Then it was a quick slice of each pizza into 8 triangular slices, and then she drizzled one with the spicy honey, and left the other not so spicy.

"I present (what my son calls) PIZZA! One has a spicy honey drizzle. The other does not, but there is still honey in the crust." She brought both platters over to the judges for their analysis.

6 sided dice please.

Round 3 Results

After the cakes had been cleared to the side, and everyone had freshened themselves, it was into the next task. Kale, bacon, and honey. It was certainly a combination designed to test the candidates. Silarien smoothed the wispy hairs that had escaped from her chef’s hat back into place as the sizzling and chopping and occasional screaming began...

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Your scores!

Aduchil: Your pomegranate salad is light and tasty, but it’s not blowing Sil’s head off. Possibly for the best. But there don’t seem to be as many nuts in here as there ought to be? Almost as though... someone had sabotaged you?!
4/6

Aerlinn: Whilst it smells delicious, Silarien detected dog slobber in the cheese. Oh nooooooo. Penalty!
-3/12

Ducky: incredible! All Silarien has ever desired is, apparently, to eat herself in effigy. You are one lucky duck.
12/12

Arphen/Aethelu: this is delicious! Savoury, tender, crispy. Silarien loves it.
6/6

Elarith/Viola
Oh no, poor Viola, at least you succeeded in sabotaging Aduchil... the boiled kale has made the bite of potato, bacon and mushrooms all soggy. Penalty!
-3/12

Frostbite/Eldûrien
You’d think that heart would be tough and chewy, but that firey kick is just what Silarien wanted after that soggy bacon, apparently...
10/12

Starbreeze/Fairy Nuff
SIL LOVES QUICHE, this is now canon. Sweet, savoury, umami, creamy and crumbly. Mmmm
6/6

Tarawen
Look, it was ok, but the fact that Tarawen looked like she was about to barf through the entire thing was sort of... off putting? You rolled a penalty!
-1/1

Veowyn
Alas, the texture of the dough is pleasant, but Silarien isn’t loving the paprika.
1/6

---

The successful sabotage will be added into the final scores!

Artanis had no idea what to expect when she announced the ingredients for the third round. Personally, she could not think of very many ways where the three strange items would go together in an appetizing way, but she hoped that the cooks would have some brilliant ideas. As the cooking time finished, everyone began to bring their dishes forward. It was once again tasting time.

---

As @Fairy Nuff/Starbreeze brought forward a quiche Artanis stifled a groan, remembering the disaster with the last quiche earlier that day. She took a tentative bite, and shook her head. "This doesn't quite fit all together," she told the wizard. "And I don't like quiche."
Taste Score: 1/6

@Veowyn decided to cook something called pizza. Artanis chose to try a slice of the pizza that had the honey drizzle and she was glad she did. "This is delicious!" she said with a huge smile. "A very pleasant way to combine these three unique ingredients. Is this how you get your children to eat their vegetables?"
Taste Score: 5/6

@Frostbite/Eldûrien's choice of dish this time was lamb heart skewers, with kale as a garnish. When the plate was presented to Artanis she looked down at it and raised her eyebrows. "If we had wanted one of the required ingredients to be used as a garnish, we would have said so," she stated firmly, glaring the elf in the eye. I don't know why my fellow judge has given you such a high score for not following the rules."
Taste Score: -3/6 You have activated the penalty!

@KingODuckingham had a very interesting dish. Artanis couldn't decide if it was art or food or perhaps both? "Intriguing way to use the ingredients," Artanis said, looking at the humanoid looking dish. She poked at the bacon on her plate before tasting it. While the food was cooked, it wasn't the most flavourful way to combine the ingredients.
Taste Score: 4/12

@Aerlinn While the burger smells and looks delicious, before Artanis as a chance to taste your burger, one of Veowyn's children dashed in and swiped the very burger off the table, leaving only a few crumbs for Artanis to try! Unfortunately, it is not enough for her to determine the quality of burger.
Taste Score: -5/12 You have activated the penalty!

@Elarith Viola came up with a delicious smelling breakfast dish. "Delightful!" Artanis cried, as she tried a bite of everything. "This is one of the best things I've tasted yet today. I do believe you have found your speciality!"
Taste Score: 10/12

@Aethelu/ Arphen had cooked the most wonderful looking and smelling chicken dish. "The combination of these flavours is exquisite! The way you mixed the kale, chicken, and bacon is … well, I am at a lack for words to describe it. And of course, the honey drizzled vegetables are a delight."
Taste Score: 6/6

@Silmarë Tarawen "Your presentation is fine, but you missed one of the fundamental rules of cooking: kale and casserole should not mix." As Artanis reached out to try a bite of the interesting looking and smelling dish, she looked up with disdain as she plucked a wolfhound hair from the top of the casserole. "Perhaps you need to teach your pet not to cook?"
Taste Score: -5/12 You have activated the penalty!

@Aduchil Once again, your presentation (and your entire presence in the kitchen is entertaining to watch), but things aren't quite going your way right now are they? Artanis looked down at the plate of kale salad, "Where are the honey nuts?" she asked, noting a single nut on her plate. Perhaps someone sabotaged your cooking?
Taste Score: 2/6

---

OOC: Permission from Veo to use one of her IC children as a penalty.

Lindariel, judging

---

@Fairy Nuff/ Starbreeze - "This is tasty! And a good way to bring all of the ingredients together."
3/6

@Veowyn - "It is definitely creative! I'm not sure the spicy honey drizzle works with the rest of it, but good effort."
1/6

@Frostbite/Eldurien - "There seems to be one ingredient omitted here - I know you've used it as part of the presentation, but I would have liked to see you incorporate the kale into the dish somehow; this seems a bit like an afterthought. But good work on the lamb - it is tasty."
-3/12 (you have activated the penalty!)

@KingODuckingham - "Well. I can give you marks for presentation, at least, but it would be much better if you cooked all of the bacon? I can't say I'm sold on the raw meat aspect of this dish."
-3/12 (you have activated the penalty!)

@Aerlinn - She just managed to cut off a bit of it before a small child swiped the rest. "Oh dear. That's unfortunate. And this piece of meat looks a little bit too red, as well - I think it needed a bit more cooking!"
-1/12 (you have activated the penalty!)

@Elarith/Viola - "This is very good! I agree with Artanis; it seems you've finally found your stride."
6/12

@Aethelu/Arphen - She took a bite, and then another, and then another. "This is amazing, Arphen. Very classic, very well-executed, a great way of bringing three very different ingredients together - I'm impressed!"
6/6

@Silmarë/Tarawen - "Good effort. But I think this dish needed a little more love - for all the ingredients, not just some of them!"
2/12

@Aduchil - "You have a good idea here, and I think it shows promise. But I think there needs to be a bit more crunch, or something else to give it some variety in texture - did you intend to include nuts in the dish?" She chose not to mention Aduchil's exuberant display when she'd brought him the pomegranate, but truth be told, it had not made a favourable impression either ...
2/6

---

The judges put their heads together. Before the next task, they would need to eliminate someone, and it looked like it would be a difficult decision... finally the scores were tallied, and Lindariel looked to Artanis, who would announce which contestants would be moving on to the next day of cooking ...


*Due to a successful sabotage, 5 points were taken from Aduchil's taste score and given to Viola.

Viola, hobbit, finally done with cooking

Two of the three judges had been very positive about Viola's breakfast - even with the kale mush hidden on it. And she had suppressed a chuckle when Aduchil's dish was marked down for a lack of nuts. But it was still no surprise when Artanis came to her and said that she was eliminated. The hobbit was mildly ashamed to have gone out first but mostly relieved that her ordeal was finally over.

Viola was surprised but very, very pleased to be invited back as a taster. Eating food that she had expended no effort to make? That was her idea of a competition! Why couldn't she have done that from the get go? Practically bouncing up and down on her toes, she clapped her hands together. "Oh yes please! That would be wonderful!" she replied to the elf.

As the contestants were dismissed for the day, Viola headed over to where her cousin Daisy had been watching, holding her hands out from her sides in a helpless gesture. "I'm not sure what went wrong," she said.
Daisy giggled. "Well, I think the problem may be that you can't actually cook." Viola spluttered incoherently at such a slur on her abilities.
"Oh give it up, you old fraud," Daisy went on. "You've barely made anything more than a round of toast for years. And considering you have so little experience you did rather well against such strong competitors." She patted Viola's arm. "Come on, let's go and have a nice digestive stroll round the gardens. Sounds like you've got a good day's eating ahead tomorrow too."
Viola let herself be lead away, dumbfounded at having been sussed out at last.

Ducky spent his time off from the game mostly in the Rivendell library, doing feverish research. He had to learn something about cooking before the next day came, so that he did not embarrass himself again on the morrow. If only he could figure out exactly what this "cooking" was, beyond just heating things up with tiny heat waves, perhaps he could understand how to score well. That said, he HAD been, for him, characteristically lucky, all things considered. Still, he could make his own luck, right?

He spent the evening up late, reading books with titles like "Cooking for the kitchen challenged" and "How to make a Sandwich in three easy steps", sweating as he pored closely over the pages. Slice the bread in triangles OH ERU HOW DO YOU DO THAT oh they have pictures. That was nice of them. Golly, this was tough.

He also looked through recipe books, although the nightmares it gave him almost weren't worth it. Some of them had more than four steps! Ducky could obviously count past four, but it was a bit hard to keep track of things. And what were some of those ingredients!? Rosemary? He thought that was a name of a person (or hobbit), not an ingredient! Maybe it was like that kale stuff they had used before.

When Ducky dragged himself, bleary-eyed, back into the hall the next day, he had forgotten his cheef hat. He had remembered to bring his ingredients though: peanut butter, strawberry jam, and wheat bread. He had a secret plan up his sleeve that no doubt nobody would see coming. He giggled to himself. He was going to floor the judges today. He had book learning on his side now. He was undefeatable.

Veowyn

"Amme, do you really want to stick around for all of this?"
"They did not even like Thorion's pizza!"
"Or your cinnamon cake!"
"This is something I have to see through, my dear ones. And what are you three complaining about? Aren't you glad to get more time with your friends and family here in Imladris?"

All three children looked at her, still unsure that this was even worth the effort. Not that she ever back downed from a fight, but this was so trivial. They helped her gather up the things she would need next. She was almost out of cinnamon, but she would use up the rest if the next stage warranted it. She then thought about the rest of the ingredients she wanted to bring. They had not been told what they would be doing with them. She frowned thinking about it. She had paced for hours thinking about it.

The kids however, had a great idea. They brought her a bowl, with bits of parchment written on them. They had written all sorts of ingredients on them. They told her to pick 4. What came out were: Lemons, chicken, rice, and pineapple. She arched her eye brow, not sure how that would work out, but maybe it would actually be something wonderful.

So, on the next day of competition, she came in, with a box containing all of the things she had picked. She had a large pineapple, nearly stabbing her in the face from the box, as well as a large, raw but already cleaned (de-feathered and all of that) chicken, a sack of tiny grains of dried rice, and several bright yellow lemons.

She set the box down at the same station she was at before, then looked over to see Ducky, looking sure of himself. She smiled at him. "Mae govannen mellon. Are you looking forward to another day of cooking?"

Aduchil, here to be victimised

Betrayal. There was no curse in Entish, Elvish or the tongues of flower languages for this treachery. Clutching his cleaver, Aduchil stood ready to commit disembowelment. Before he could cut a fool, however, the perpetrator was escorted out of the kitchen. Hardly sufficient punishment for this transgression, but Aduchil’s vengeance could wait. One morning, when this little imp went to eat breakfast and pour sugar on her cornflakes, she would find salt and sugar had been switched. And then she would know pain. Salty, salty pain.

Justice delayed, Aduchil left. It was only to be expected that the enemies of the revolution would attack. Whether provocateurs from Elrond’s secret police, agents of Big Cuisine, or some other reactionary rearguard, they would fall in time. Especially if Aduchil tripped them.

Next morning, Aduchil closed the doors to the kitchen and flung them open for his usual entrance. It was a bit tiresome none ever learned to close the doors before he arrived, but such was life. Having burst the doors open, Aduchil picked up his ingredients from the floor. In his arms, he carried a jug of milk, some geese eggs, three hens, two turtle doves, and a handful of pears.

Perhaps carrying was the wrong word. One arm had eggs tucked under it, and the hand held the jug of milk. The other arm had a bundle of pears under it, while the hand carried all the hens by their legs, holding them upside down. The hens clucked with indignation, but Aduchil thanked them for their sacrifice and otherwise ignored them. As for the turtle doves, they rested on each of his shoulders, respectively.

Stepping over the threshold, Aduchil promptly tripped. Pears tumbled over the floor. Turtle doves flew away with loud objections about their perch behaving this way. The milk flew up and down, but thanks to centrifugal force, remained inside its container. The eggs were launched into the air. Aduchil only retained his grip on the hens, but he promptly released them in order to catch the eggs.

As Aduchil juggled the little oval bastards, the hens fled in every direction. The much beset-upon Elf juggled the eggs into a basket lined with wool, where the soft landing did not break them. Those hours at anarchistic acrobatic school finally paid off. Throwing himself forward, he seized one hen by the neck, ending its chicken run.

Standing up, he saw the other two headed towards Elrond’s study. Fine. Who needed such faithless bootlickers of the authoritarian regime anyway – let them run and hide with their masters. The turtle doves! Aduchil looked towards the sunrise to see them flying away. Perhaps that was the true dish in our hearts all along.

Picking up the fruits rolling around on the floor, Aduchil surveyed his ingredients. Pears, milk, three one hen, and eggs. Enough to storm a castle.

Arphen arriving for day two

When they had declared the first day over, Arphen had to admit she was a little relieved. She had been utterly exhausted by the end of it, she hadn't cooked so hard and for so long in her life. As they had cleared things away and tidied up, she had made sure to grab whatever leftovers from her cooking creations there were. She had no desire to cook once she got home, so they would have to enjoy reheated leftovers. Thankfully, both children had been happy to eat what was left of the venison and chicken, and even the many roast vegetables. As Arphen had been snacking all day while she worked, she was quite happy with a slice of cake (or 3) and off to bed. She had dreamt of floating desserts calling to her, always just out of reach when she had tried to grab them. When she had woken up, her stomach was already rumbling and her mind was filled with ideas.

There had been a few items in particular that had floated past in her dream that contained the same ingredient, thankfully she had plenty of it in her cupboard as it had become one of her favourite sweet treats. When it came to what to do with it, she knew exactly what to pick up. Grabbing some biscuits she had baked before the competition as breakfast, she set off again for Lord Elrond's kitchens.

Arphen nodded politely to the others who were already there as she entered. It seemed everyone had bought something different and she was very excited to see what was going to be created. She set her own ingredients down with a smile: white chocolate, flour, eggs, butter, brown sugar.

Eldûrien, the anti-Chef

So ended the first day. Eldûrien had not been eliminated by she was not in the position she wanted to be either. Her time here in Imladris was precarious and if she was going to win this competition she was going to need to step it up. But how? She hadn’t anticipated this much actual competition, or that the judges wouldn’t love her. She was going to have to work, not that she hadn’t already. She thought the heart skewers were a magnificent idea, and the use of kale had been ingenious. It wasn’t her fault they hadn’t clarified each ingredient had to be cooked. Presentation was absolutely on the table. That’s what Figwit would have told, she imagined.

Before she was ushered out of the kitchen by very insistent kitchen aides, she managed to find two more of Figwit’s treatises on the preparation of Elven food. She read them cover to cover, each of them during her time away from the kitchen. They were detailed manifestos, transcendent condemnations of the food traditions in Imladris and in the Elven community at large. The first book detailed how over the years innovative cooking has stagnated and there have been no new recipes created in the last thousand years! How on Sauron’s black earth could these elves not come up with something new in a thousand years? Had any of them been to Gondor? What about Rohan? Eldûrien heard rumors they ate badgers and crows. Badgers and crows! Now there’s an idea. While the treatises didn’t hold any recipes (Figwit must have a recipe book other than his pancake novel), they did give her ideas on how to shake things up. If these elves hadn’t learned a new recipe in a thousand years, they were about to get a whole slew of them.

She began to write out a list of things she wanted to bring: purple potatoes, Lindon reapers, lamb stock, and garlic (could never have enough garlic). Once she finished though, she thought of something cold and calculating, something the judges would surely do. Instead of bringing those items she changed them up, believing fully that she had found out the judges scheme.

The next morning dawn and Eldûrien, the anti-Chef came bursting through the doors. In a basket, she carried with her: a dozen duck eggs, cactus (de-needled), water chestnuts, black olives, a skirt steak, and clay.

Tarawen had retreated to her chambers after the very intense first day of the cooking contest. Her wolf friend (who still badly needed a name) had waited patiently for her. She put a hand into her pocket and pulled out a couple of leftover bacon scraps. He took them gladly and gently from her hand. Tara sat down on her bed and let her head and shoulders droop. What in Middle-Earth had made her think she could truly compete in contests among elves? She had been very lucky not to be eliminated.

They'd been told to return the next day with ingredients of their choosing. Tara wracked her brain. The wolf whined and nosed at her elbow. "You want to go out, don't you?" she asked. She stood and strode to the door. "Okay, let's go out for a while. You can have a hunt, and I'll have a think."


The next day, both ranger and wolf walked into the kitchen. Tara had seen another canine (Yávië) the previous day and figured another couldn't hurt. The wolf padded along after her, tongue lolling in a pleasant canid smile. He caught scent of Yávië but paid him very little mind at this point - the wolf was hoping for more bacon from the kind ranger. Tarawen had no idea what to make of the wolf's surprising docility, but she wasn't arguing.

In her bag, she had several bunches of scallions and a few bottles. The bottles contained soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame seeds, and some special red pepper flakes - seedless with a sweeter flavor than those she'd used in her disastrous kale creation. Tara had decided to prioritize flavor this round to hopefully move her out of the bottom-rung ranking. She set her ingredients gently onto the counter before her. The wolf sat at her side, still awaiting bacon as Tara and the other contestants awaited the day's instructions.

"Welcome back everyone! You might notice that the configuration of the kitchen has changed a bit this morning; that is because you will be working in pairs for this next challenge." Lindariel smiled, trying to make her tone as gentle as possible, because she knew the next few sentences she said might cause some consternation.

"Flexibility and teamwork are, of course, essential skills when working in a kitchen, so today's first challenge reflects that. We have randomly assigned you partners. Each cook will be asked to create a dish - but using the ingredients their partner has brought this morning, as well as a few staple pantry items that everyone has access to."

"There is one more requirement: you must work together to ensure that your two dishes - as a pair - could be served together. So, one of you might create a main and the other a side dish; one of you might create an appetizer and the other a main dish; one of you might create a main dish and the other a dessert; or any other suitable pairing you can think of. But they should be able to be served together and should complement each other in some way. In your pairs, you may help each other and give each other advice if needed."

"You will have three hours for this challenge, and now - let me announce your pairings, so that you can swap ingredients with your partner, and start planning your dishes!"

---

OOC: Because you will probably want to coordinate with your cooking partner in some manner (Discord, Imladris OOC, multiple posts, etc.), there is a longer deadline for this task - you have 4 days (96 hours).

Team 1:
Ducky @KingODuckingham - Eldûrien has brought duck eggs, a de-needled cactus, water chestnuts, black olives, and a skirt steak.
Eldurien @Frostbite - Ducky has brought peanut butter, strawberry jam, and wheat bread.

Team 2:
@Aerlinn - Aduchil has brought pears, milk, one hen, and eggs.
@Aduchil - Aerlinn has brought persimmons, vanilla beans, apple whiskey, rabbit, and quail.

Team 3:
@Tarawen - (OOC: In Fairy's temporary absence, we have assigned some ingredients for you!) You have purple sweet potatoes, spinach, cheese, an onion, and some rice.
Starbreeze @Fairy Nuff - Tarawen has brought scallions, soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame seeds, and some special red pepper flakes.

Team 4:
Arphen @Aethelu - Veowyn has brought lemons, chicken, rice, and pineapple.
@Veowyn - Arphen brought white chocolate, flour, eggs, butter, and brown sugar.


Everyone also has access to an ample supply of the following ingredients (and no others) from the Imladris pantry:
- salt
- pepper
- other basic spices
- water
- flour
- white sugar
- oil
- several types of dried pasta

Chef Aduchil, welcoming new recruits to the cause

Aduchil stared from the live chicken in one hand towards Aerlinn, not in his other hand. As the announcement sank in, his eyes narrowed. New volunteers, eager to shed their blood for the Motherland! The chef looked at the chicken. "Do not worry, you who would be a man if but your feathers were plucked. You shall have your wish." He looked back at Aerlinn, detecting either horrid fascination or deep admiration in her eyes. Definitely the latter. "I see we are united in our desire to shake the establishment! Now, by our grastronomical powers combined, we are Captain Cuisine!" Aduchil coughed, not sure where that came from. His memory had a few holes. "Our task? To cook. Our goal? To defeat the forces of villainous kitchenry. Our obstacle? That fiend... whatever their name is." He gestured in the general direction of Arphen.

"I bestow these upon you." Aduchil thrust the hen into Aerlinn's arms as it gave a loud bock, slapped the bag of pears on top, and put the handle for the milk jug in Yávië's jaw. Holding the basket of eggs, he paused for a moment and finally balanced them carefully on Aerlinn's head. "Voila! Another masterpiece!" He narrowed his eyes. "Are you edible? Ah, never mind. I have forsaken my raw diet ever since I gave that Numenorean such flatulence, it sank his ship."

As Aerlinn dismantled his creation, Aduchil turned towards the bounty of ingredients brought by his new comrade. He picked up the quails. Some manner of small chicken? Useful. Rabbit? Do not mind if I do. Vanilla beans? Perfect. Vanilla could go into everything; that was why it was called vanilla, after all. Some kind of concoction... Aduchil took a deep sniff. Apples. Fermented. Aged three years? At least. In oak casket. He took a sip. Yep, that would work. He took another sip. Yep, that was fine. He sampled it again, just to be sure. Definitely useful. But what. was. that.

Aduchil picked up the persimmons. "You are the ugliest tomato I have ever seen." He licked it. "But edible." He surveyed all of the ingredients. Poultry. Long-ears. Beans (vanilla, at least). Apple drink. Ugly tomato. The answer came to Aduchil with terrifying clarity.

"Non, je refuse!" But the idea would not depart. It clawed its way into his mind, until he could only see the casserole filled with the dish. Capitulating, Aduchil turned to Aerlinn. She seemed engrossed in considering her own ingredients, no doubt thrilled at what Aduchil had proved her with. Taking hold of her shoulders to turn her towards him, Aduchil gave her a very grave look. The gravest. "My sister-in-arms, as we are no doubt fated to die together in these trenches, I shall be honest. I feel my only option is to make cassoulet. Last time I did so, a man died. Well, not a man, my brother. And he did not die, he got sick. Not from the dish, but beforehand. Which is why I had to step in and make the dish. As you can see, I do not venture into this with a light heart. But I must ask you this, and know that your answer could seal our fates."

Eyes wide open with intensity, mostly for dramatic effect, Aduchil breathed his question. "Can you - or alternatively, your dog - make some kind of appetiser with these ingredients that would work with cassoulet for a main dish?"

Ducky's face was an open book of shock and dismay. He was going to have to work with a partner? He felt so, so sorry for his partner. Were they going to be okay with his ingredients? How could he possibly combine his perfectly crafted set of elements that were meant to become a [redacted] into something new?

There were many questions, and no answers until he spoke them aloud. But when he looked across to his partner...well, she looked like a big serious meanie, to be honest. Ducky wasn't sure what to say. Was there some key thing to mention that would get her to like him enough that they would work well together?

He waddled awkwardly up to Eldurion and cast his eyes over her ingredients...and stopped short. Were his eyes deceiving him? Were those...duck eggs?

A cold glare settled onto Ducky's features. His whole plan drained out of his mind.

"Those duck eggs are just for decoration, right?" he asked with an edge to his voice. "Or what were you planning to do with those?"

"Yes, actually, I can," Yávië auuuwoofed through a mouthful of milk jug. "I'd like to suggest delicately sliced chicken breast sashimi over a bed of diced chicken thighs garnished with an assortment of delectable internal organs. This hearty appetizer should be finished on top with an egg, providing its consumer with a satisfying crunch to begin their meal. A devastating oversight that no one thought to bring carrots, I'm quite partial to a bit of carrot on the side."

"Erm," said Aerlinn.

The hen chose this moment to notice the dog drooling copiously in her general direction and a flurry of feathers erupted in the elf's face. "I sushpecht--" she spat out a wing. "A chicken desseyaaagggh!" It's beak made a go at her eye. "Rather, throw some salt on a pear an--blagh! bleck! gaaah!" She yanked the milk jug out of Yávië's jaws, succeeded in grabbing the chicken around the legs and shoved it head first into the wolfhound's waiting maw. "PIE!" she exploded. "I am trying to say that we should make miniature pies. Tarts. Pie-lets. Whatever."

She plucked a handful of feathers from her hair and glared at the bottle of whiskey now being consumed by the absolute mad-elf in front of her. "Traitor," she muttered. Yávië gave her a mournful look, and the hen's legs twitched a bit. "No, not you! You just...just hold onto that for a minute." She paused in her arm-waving and took a deep breath to study Aduchil properly. The wild intensity of his gaze, she suspected, would make Fëanor himself seem positively wishy-washy. The battle rage of a dozen elven kings could not possibly match the fervor of this lone ellon in a kitchen. Things could, she decided, be worse. They could have been another of his...obstacles.

"Well?" she said finally, attempting to rub blood off her face from a score of tiny scratches. It smeared unhelpfully. "One chicken and parsley, one pear and sage, one simple egg tart with rosemary and time...I just need time to do all those, uh, crusts." She winced and hoped he hadn't been paying attention to her failed quiche crust yesterday.

Yávië made a muffled inquiry about how much of the hen in his mouth she might require for such a venture. "Oh, right. Sorry about this," Aerlinn addressed the fowl. Aduchil turned to it with a sudden intake of breath. He looked, if such a thing were possible, even more emotional before. His whole half-baked soul in his eyes. "We, erm," she glanced nervously at him. Was he expecting a speech? "Captain Cuisine thanks you, O Glorious Hen." She nodded at Yávië, and the twitching ceased.

"I suppose we had better get on with it, comrades."

Chef Aduchil, here to bring the tree back into the kitchen

The dog carried on a lengthy explanation. Sadly, with the jug in its mouth, Aduchil could not understand a word due to poor enunciation. He turned his attention on the Elf instead, watching Aerlinn tussle with the chicken. "This is hardly the time for tomfoolery," he admonished her, watching her playful act. "Besides, befriending the soldiery makes it harder to send them to their deaths." The word 'pie' was shot out like propelled by a mixture of salpeter, charcoal and sulphur through a metal barrel. "Ah! Capital idea! The little pies will soften the enemy before the barrage of cassoulet forces them to surrender! Huzzah!" Aduchil surveyed the battlefield. "Let us to it, my brave raconteur. Once more into the breach!"

Aduchil grabbed his filetting knife. Strictly speaking not the right tool, but he had not filletted a fool in ages, and rabbit would have to do. Glancing back at Aerlinn, he caught her in discussion with the canine once more. The hen! The glorious sacrifice that would surely see the walls of Imladris tumble before them. It gave a bock from inside the dog's mouth cavern, and Aduchil stared with Aerlinn in anticipation. Well?

Aerlinn gave a stirring speech, sure to inspire the troops, and Aduchil grew easy. Perhaps this campaign would not end with casualties exceeding one hundred percent, like that foray into Gil-galad's pantry. A dark day. The dog chomped down, the hen lost a head, and the cooking could begin.

Flaying the rabbit, Aduchil glanced at the dog. Was that a more environmentally friendly method of decapitating chicken? Certainly it required both iron and coal to make the steel for a cleaver and forge it. Were home-grown canine jaws now the superior choice? He would have to check his Eco-Anarchy Monthly, which despite the name, only came out a few times a year. When someone had complained about their monthly subscription not being monthly though, the foolproof counterpoint had been that a monthly release would be far too punctual and organised for anarchists and inherently untrustworthy. Aduchil still wanted a refund for those missing issues, though.

Setting his musings aside, Aduchil skinned the rabbit, feathered the quail, and drank the apple whiskey. Some of it, anyway. Best to leave some of it for the dish. Meat went into a pan to fry, and water went into a pot to boil. Thinking ahead, he realised he needed something to make the final touch. He could bake it himself, of course, but why, when he had an ally at hand? He turned on his heel, did it again because he so much enjoyed doing it the first time, then did it a third time to end up facing the way he wanted to. "Aerlinn," he called out to get her attention. Staring at her, he took a deep breath. "Lady, I need your crust."

As she seemed perplexed, he considered elaborating. Fine. "My dish needs to be covered by bread crumbs. As I am sure you are an unmatched master of baking, I can think of nothing better than crumbing your crust. To put on top of the dish. The crumbs. On top." Was that enough elaborating? Perhaps he should add more. "Crusty crumbs." There. That ought to do it.

Yávië watched in dismay as his elf cracked eggs, sliced pears, and quartered the freshly plucked hen. She cubed the thigh meat and set it aside, but otherwise there was no sign of the dish he had so delicately constructed in his mind's eye. "But that's not what I told you to do at all!" he whined. "Didn't you hear me about the egg? Now you've gone and broken them all. Agh, I can't watch!" He buried his snout in his paws as Aerlinn began to whisk the offending ingredient.

"What's gotten into you?" she laughed at him, cold-heartedly ignoring his pleas. "We haven't even gotten to the hard part yet."

"Wrooof?? The hard part? My masterpiece is ruined before it was even began! Toppled before ever a foundation was raised! Stopped in its tracks at the starting line! There shall be no hard part." The wolfhound gave a great huff and stalked off.

"What did I do?" Aerlinn threw up her hands in defeat and went to the pantry to fetch butter. The quiche crust hadn't been so bad she reasoned to herself, especially for a first try. Sil had loved it! and if the other judges had been, er, less than appreciative then well, you couldn't please everyone. She reached for the butter and came up with...olive oil. Eh? She looked left, right, stuck her head underneath the bottom shelf and found only a rather fat, contented looking mouse. She prodded at a few likely looking seams in the wall but a hidden door failed to materialize.

"Oh dear."

Still holding the oil, she walked slowly back to her workstation and stared at the waiting sack of flour in trepidation. Of course, oil and butter shared similar qualities but she wasn't frying eggs here, she was making--

"...crust." Aduchil was saying something.

"Wha? Huh?" she spun around to face him and promptly slipped on the three birds worth of feathers that layered the floor around them. "Um, crust?" she asked from the ground. He explained. "Crummy crusts? Er, Crusty crumbs! Of course, no problem at all. I'm quite experienced with crusts, you know. I've experienced crusts from Valinor to Nevrast, Lindon to Eregion! Worked at a nice place in Gondolin for a while too, plenty of crusts there. Loads of crust, gallons of crust!" She stopped for breath, scrambled to her feet and hurriedly dumped half the bottle of oil into the sack of flour and then turned the sack upside-down into a bowl. "See? One crusty crumb coming up!" Where was that dog? He would never let her ramble on like such a flustered fredegaring fredegar.

The dog was grumbling to himself across the kitchen. If the elves weren't going to listen to him then he had other important matters to attend to, thank you very much. There was a strange four-legger here. A wolf nonetheless! Surely it represented a threat to his share of the food scraps at the least. But could he be certain it wasn't collecting information? Here to reconnoiter in preparation for the winter months when he would return with his pack to terrorize Imladris?!

He approached the ranger (Tarawen) first, and quickly broke into a fit of sneezing. Everything smelled of onions and he could see a container of pepper flakes sitting nearby. "Don't you ranger types have more sense than to be running around with wolves?" is what he had wanted to say. It came out as "Awoof woo--achoooorufffffff!"

He pawed at his nose and glared sideways at the intruder, daring him to comment.

Eldûrien, Whating the Huh with Who?

Aha! She was right! Okay, half right. Maybe a third. Measurements weren’t really Eldûrien’s strong suit. Anyway that’s not what mattered. What mattered was she was right! The judges had tried to pull a fast one but, being a minion illimitable intelligence she had figured out their scheme. Wait… what? Partners? What is this nonsense about partners? She was not going to partner up with anyone except for Figwit and he clearly had better things to do than enter into a silly cooking competition. So.. who was her victi—partner? And what did they have to offer in terms of… the wizard? Well that’s not the worst partner she could have. She’d worked with wizards before, she was very good at managing their egos.

This one was going to be difficult though, she could tell. Why was he so angry looking? Why was he waddling? “Well of course I’m going to use the duck egg, silly!” Having never heard of this wizard before she could not fathom why he chose to be so angry over the eggs.

When she got a good look at the ingredients she was going to be using, the optimistic smile she’d so carefully prepared melted. Bread, peanut butter, and strawberry jam.

“Did… you really plan on making a sandwich? How in the roiling abyss am I supposed to make something the judges will actually tolerate? I’m Eldûrien, by the way. I never did catch your name.”

Arphen, teaming up with Veowyn

As Arphen listened to the judges announcement, she felt her jaw drop. She had been sure the judges would spring some surprises on them at some point, but this was not quite what she had had in mind. As she waited to see who her partner would be, she tried to think fast about what she would make with some of the ingredients the other contestants had brought with them. There were some she was sure she could do better with than others.

At last she discovered who she had been paired with, another elleth in the form of Veowyn. She had taken note of her before, she seemed to have some very sweet and enthusiastic children cheering her on. "Mae govannen, I am Arphen," she called out as she walked over. "I am very pleased to meet you, and your ingredients." She laughed at her awkward joke and smiled. "I hope we can come up with something delicious together. Shall I make a start on the main dish while you work on the dessert?"

The box of food looked delicious, though she could not quite recall the last time she had prepared a whole pineapple herself. That might take the most time if she was honest. It was going to need a very big, very sharp knife. With a grin she hurried over to the pantry to pick up a few extra ingredients. She would definitely need a little sugar, the pineapple and lemon alone might be a little sharp. She noted some chilli flakes sitting in a jar on one side, an idea was forming to give the dish a little extra kick. She gathered them up as well. Finally she picked up the nice, big knife with which she could cut the pineapple. Arphen considered herself a peaceful elf who had a abhorrence to weapons. This wasn't a weapon though, it was a kitchen utensil. And sometimes, she just needed to release some stress.

"Knife! Coming through!" she shouted as she walked back to her station, hoping she didn't accidentally catch someone as she tried to weave through the busy kitchen. Now it was time to get started, hacking off the top and bottom of the pineapple, before carefully slicing off the skin to leave as much of the fruit as possible. Then she chopped up the pineapple into nice small chunks, a few accidentally falling into her mouth as she worked. She juiced the lemons, adding a little sugar to the juice to sweeten it. Pulling out a pan, she put in the pineapple, lemon and sugar juice, as well as general handful of chilli flakes. Now she had to wait. And wait. A gentle stir. And wait. It seemed to be taking an age to thicken up. Then suddenly, it was that thick, gloopy sauce, she had been looking for.

Turning her attention back to the chicken, she had to concede she now wasn't sure she wanted to use all of it. Hopefully Veowyn wouldn't mind if she didn't use the whole thing, perhaps the rest could be used for something else later. Picking up the large knife again, she began to take apart the poor chicken until she was left with the juiciest parts for cooking. Maybe she could grill the wings for them to snack on while they waited, she wondered. Shaking her head, she turned back to the task at hand. She spent far to much time thinking about eating in a cooking contest. The chicken needed to be coated in half the sauce and cooked, letting all those lovely flavours seep in.

While that cooked she set about cooking the rice. She seemed to recall a conversation she had overheard not so long ago about the proper way to cook rice. It had gotten a little...heated as she recalled as different people had proclaimed the correct way to cook rice. Number one was to rinse it, that seemed to have been the item of the most contention. It took a few goes until the water at last ran clean. Then she poured the rice into a pan, followed by...now how much water was it? One of water to one of rice? No, that seemed too little. Three of water? No that seemed to high, unless she wanted to make rice soup. One of water to two of rice, that was it she sure. In went the water, the lid on the pan, and she went back to waiting.

Soon, everything was just about ready. A quick flash of heat to reheat the leftover glaze and she was ready. Onto a plate went the rice, all water absorbed to make lovely fluffy rice, then the chicken, before adding the rest of the glaze over the top. She thought it looked fine, but now she was worried she might have ruined Veowyn's lovely ingredients. "What do you think?" she asked timidly. "Do you think it will be okay? Do you want me to fry up the wings as a snack? I must admit, I seem to eat more when I'm nervous."

OOC: 6 sided dice please

Hi lovely cooks, here's your friendly reminder that you have roughly 24 hours to finish getting your posts in! Also, please either post your rolls in your final RP post or edit an above post to indicate your choice! I know some of you have already made at least one post, but I am tagging you in case you have any wrap-up that needs to happen with your cooking partner.


@Elarith, please coordinate with one or more of us judges to determine how you would like to do your guest tasting role.

Chef Aduchil, here to crumb that crust

No time for further chatter. Swift and decisive action was needed. Ugly tomatoes and the fried meat from the pan into the pot to boil together. Vanilla beans were decapitated and mutilated, scattered into the pot as well. How would that taste? Only time (and tastebuds) could tell. Keeping an eye (his good one, as his bad eye was busy trying to hex his rivals) on the time, Aduchil felt the pressure. He turned on his oven and grabbed a large pot suitable for that furnace. As the pot on the stove boiled, Aduchil flung pasta into it. Droplets of water splashed everywhere, burning his skin. Good! No victory without pain. He looked at Aerlinn, busy pieing away. Should he stab her in the back? Literally, just to ensure she was also in pain. Logic dictated the more pain, the greater victory.

Nah. it might damage the tip of his kitchen knife, and those things were expensive. The pasta! Lost in his musings, he had forgotten to keep eye on it. He stuck his fingers into the boiling pot, extracted some pasta and tasted it. Nice. The pasta was al dente, and his fingertips were boiled. How many times had that happened so far in this contest? Ah, never mind. Onwards! Everything from stove pot went into oven pot. Grabbing the apple whiskey, Aduchil took a hefty swig and poured the few remains on top of the cassoulet. Finally, he grabbed Aerlinn's crust.

With his burned fingers, he crushed the crust the same way the proletariat would one day crush Elrond's tyranny. The explosion of crumbs pleased Aduchil's heart, and he threw the liberated masses on top of the cassoulet to form a crumby ceiling. Into the chamber of fire it went, and Aduchil relaxed. If only he had a draught of whiskey or something to celebrate. Really, someone should have supplied such.

He stared at Aerlinn. Was she alright? Aduchil did not know her experience, whether seasoned veteran or just barely salted recruit. He grabbed some of the spices available to all and sprinkled it on top of Aerlinn. As she turned to send him an inquisitive look, he blinked. "Just making sure you are seasoned. My dish is done, baking in the furnaces of war. And also the oven. Do you require help to finish your campaign?"

OOC: Rolling that sixer like my victory in the culinary contest depended on it

"Play!? I am a noble hound of the Noldor, a canine of the Calaquendi, the right paw of Aerlinn, daughter of Nemir! I hunt," Yávië crouched low. "I train," he sat up at strict attention. "I do battle," he snapped warningly at the cheese. And then, more carefully, bit off a small piece for himself. "I stalk the nightmares of dark things. I do not *play*, Ranger," he woofed. The last bit was muffled by the cheese.

He swallowed and cast his measuring gaze on the wolf. "We could, perhaps, participate in some training together, neighbor," he offered carefully, eyeing a number of intriguing bags, sacks, and handles surrounding them. "If you are loyal to this one," a snuffle at Tarawen's hand, "then I trust we shall not find ourselves on opposite sides of a battlefield."

Aerlinn blinked and a small flurry of dried basil drifted down from her eyelashes. Some of it landed in the bowl of savory egg custard filling she was mixing. "Seasoned? My chicken was seasoned, if that's what you mean. If you plan to stick me in the oven, I dare say I'd do better as a dessert," she laughed a bit nervously. Aduchil had begun to grow on her, but she wasn't sure she'd put Honey-roasted Elf past him.

She tasted her custard and sprinkled in some more of the basil. "That's quite nice though, very inspired." The filling went into her remaining pie crust in a tiny pie pan and into the oven.

Beside it was another small pie filled with pan-fried chicken doused liberally with salt, pepper, dried parsley, garlic powder, and the flaky green contents of a few other containers. In the back was a savory pear pie cooked first with sage then finished with a dash--plus what had fallen in when she knocked over the jar--of cayenne pepper, just in case anyone wanted to insist that pear pies belonged with dessert. Ah well, the custard would help to cool any burning tongues.

She took a deep breath and turned to Aduchil, unable to suppress a grin. "There! My dear mad elf, I think we did it! The forces of villainous kitchenry have gone to cower beneath their beds and we stand at the doors of Castle Oven poised for victory. The bards shall sing of this day long after the crumbs are eaten, the dishes washed, and the fires banked." Together they waited impatiently by the fires.

An hour later, pies plated and cassoulet cassouled, it was time for the final assault. Aerlinn couldn't remember ever being simultaneously so terrified and brazenly confident. Peppered pear pie? Persimmons and coney? The absurdity of it thrilled and galled her. Was this, then, what Aduchil lived everyday? They bowed deeply before the judges and she dredged up all of her nerve and a buried streak of theatricality.


OOC: O Twelve Sided Die, reveal my fate!

Chef Aduchil, here to be your guest

Aerlinn mentioned how she would make a good dessert, giving Aduchil something to contemplate. Dessert would complement their first two dishes well, and it was brave of Aerlinn to volunteer being stuffed with apples and spit roasted. Alas, there was not even time to begin building a good spit roasting pit, else Aduchil would have taken her offer. No matter. The food was cooking, and their hard-fought battle reaching its end.

"There!" Aerlinn exclaimed. "My dear amazing elf, whose cooking powers leave the cosmos in stupor, I think we did it!"

"Indeed. Our forces are arrayed and stand ready. Now we need only unleash them!" Taking three steps and doing the cha-cha, Aduchil opened the oven to let the case of the cassoulet out. "Perfection." He had no idea how this would taste, and he predicted thirty-three percent's chance of it being poisonous. Good odds, all in all.

As Aerlinn introduced their meal with a rousing battle hymn, Aduchil accompanied it with effects. Forks flew through the air, landing in the pies, among other things. Shaking a bottle of bubbly (technically, as it was not from Dorwinion, it could legally only be called sparkling water), Aduchil let the cork fly. The liquid burst out, losing its momentum at once and trickling down to create a small puddle at his feet. Aduchil quickly put the bottle to his lips to save as much as possible. "Quick, someone bring in the living teapot!" the elf mumbled between drinking. Throwing the bottle aside, he grabbed the nearest tea cup and smashed it against the table to give it a chip. Having completely broken the tea cup into small pieces, he threw them over his shoulder. "Candle lights!" Aduchil grabbed three candles, ran a match against his tongue to light them, and began juggling. "You there, canine creature! Get me a recalcitrant clock!"

Still juggling the lights, he whispered to Aerlinn. "The duty of serving the main course falls upon you, ma sœur!" Although his hands were busy, Aduchil's mouth was not. He contemplated eating one of the candles, but thought of a better use for his tongue. "Notre bon duc d'Imladris, n'est-il pas gentil gallant?" he crowed. "Il est fait faire une armée de quatre-vingt Orques! Gironfla gare, gare, gironfla gare avant!"

Ducky, teamed up with Eldûrien

She was planning on using the duck eggs. Unbelievable. An actual war crime. An atrocity. And it was being committed in Imladris, right under his very nose. How could the judges let this ridiculous crime against duckanity stand? Why, Ducky was going to...

"Wait, you...you knew I was going to make a sandwich?" The words tumbled out of Ducky's mouth before he quite realized what had happened.

He was crestfallen. Crushed. How could she have seen through his plan so easily? She must be a truly masterful chef. Perhaps it was best not to be belligerent with her. Ducky sighed.

"I'm Ducky," he muttered grudgingly. "And yes, I was going to make a sandwich. I don't know how you knew, but I suppose it doesn't matter now that we are on a team together. And I suppose we'll have to do something a bit more elaborate now that we have to combine ingredients." Ducky glanced over the rules again, quickly. They had to make two dishes, and one had to be more of a main dish, the other a side dish. Ducky had not gotten that far in his book learning. How had the judges managed to stay so many steps ahead of him? Ducky clenched his fists at the sky, but silently for fear one of the Elves might overhear with their sharp senses.

"Alright how about this," Ducky suggested. "It seems to me that the steak is obviously head of the main dish here. Perhaps the strawberry jam might be combined with it inside the, um...is that a cactus or what is that? Anyway, inside that green tube. Sprinkle the olives and chestnuts around it as a garnish and it'll look pretty fine, I think? And then we can keep the side dish simple with some peanut butter toast and eggs. That can't go wrong, can it? There's just one problem." Ducky said. "I don't know how to cook any of it. How're your cooking chops?"

OOC: Roll is up to Frosty but if he forgets to choose you all know what I would do in my position

Eldûrien, cooking with a wizard

Oh! So his name was Ducky! That explained things. Not many, but at least his sudden apoplectic rage was now understood. She had to fight the urge to suddenly crack one of the eggs open and eat it raw. If they were not teammates, she would have eaten the entire dozen slowly and extravagantly but alas. Alright then, using the eggs were out other than as decorative pieces. Remembering some of his earlier rounds, that did not seem too far fetched an idea.

His idea for the skirt streak, jelly, and cactus were good too. Odd, yes, but the more she thought about it, the more she believed it could work. Figwit would approve of this. It was new and different, exactly what this competition needed. Perhaps this Wizard, Ducky, wasn’t so bad after all.

She fired up the grill again and slapped the skirt streak on it, browning it to melt in your mouth savory wonderfulness and while that was cooking she began to hollow out and boil the cactus plants. If they were too hard they would be nigh inedible Eldûrien would be damned if a stiff cactus was going to get her kicked out of the competition.

Once the boiling was done developed the jelly into the hollowed out cactus and… hoped for the best.

Now for the odd bits. If they had had time, she would have left the carving to Ducky, who was clearly much better at it than her, but she would just have to channel him as she worked against the clock. Out of the olives she managed to make stick/blob people. She slathered the wheat bread with the sticky peanut butter and smoothed in pieces of the water chestnuts on the one side and the duck eggs on the other with the olive blobs/figurines in the middle fighting to gain the other side.

What battle she was enacting and what it had to do with the skirt streak she had no idea but that's why individual interpretation existed baby!

She took the skirt streak of the grill, having kept an eye on it the entire time she was carving and spiced it with all the ultra spicy herbs she wad allowed to get her hands on, and sliced it thin.

There. Done.

She would have allowed Ducky the honor of walking the dish to the judges but time was of the essence.

“Here you are, grilled skirt streak with jelly stuff cactus fruit and a side of battle diorama.”

OOC: give us a d12 if you can, and if anyone should suffer point loss as a result of lateness it should be me, I wasn’t on top of things this weekend and that’s not @KingODuckingham's fault.

Starbreeze, paired with Tarawen

Urgent, uh, wizard business had called her away from Imladris and she had not made it back in time to present her ingredients, so with chagrin she sloped in to the kitchen hall quietly, checked who she was paired with and the details of their task with anyone who would tell her, and then hurried to her workstation, smiling sheepishly at Tarawen who had just finsihed preparing a dish that smelled amazing.

"That looks like a main course, so I'll make a light appetizer to start us of" she said to Tarawen, appraising her ingredients. She scooped up some flour, oil and seasoning from the ingredients table, and started making a light batter, seasoning the flour with salt, pepper, clove, star anise and ginger, whisking together the seasoned flour with a little water and a little white sugar. The white sugar was important to create a sweet and sour combo.

She heated the oil up until it a drop of the batter bubbled when added to the oil. Then she poured the batter, which was quite thick as she had not added much water, to a piping bag, and squeezed little 'sausages' of batter into the hot oil, creating a kind of fried dough stick. She turned them to brown them on all sides, then scooped them out with a slotted spoon, setting them to one side so they would cool enough to handle.

Next she poured the soy sauce, rice vinegar and red pepper flakes into a small bowl, whisking them together to emulsify the oil and vinegar, like a salad dressing. She kept the sauce in the little bowl, set next to the little dough sticks.

Finally, she finely sliced the scallions and sprinkled those and the seasame seeds over the whole plate, knowing they would stick to the hot oil and be scooped with the dressing.

She placed the plate next to Tarawen's. "Better late than never. I hope this does your ingredients justice." she winked a bright green eye in Tarawen's direction. "Sweet sesame sticks with sour oriental dipping sauce."

6 sided please

Viola, hobbit guest judge

Viola was largely refreshed after a good nights' sleep, with only the one brief nightmare about cooking for Lord Elrond and serving him some raw dove whilst being completely naked. She had also had a small incident at first breakfast, where her cornflakes had had a peculiar savoury taste that she put down to being a weird Elvish brand instead of the usual Hobbit variety. At least the toast and honey had been delicious, though she had not eaten as much as she would've liked to save plenty of space for the tasting session.

Walking in to the kitchens, Viola found a comfortable high stool where she could see across the workbenches. She was curious to see which ingredients the remaining competitors had picked, and chortled when the judges made them work with someone else and use the other person's produce.

Though she tried to avoid it, her eyes strayed to the flamboyant elf. Viola could've sworn he'd glared at her as she'd left the kitchen the day before. Was it possible... Could he suspect? She twitched a little in her seat and focused on her training and the years of experience that had made her a chief agent for the Culinary Conformists. Now she was tasting, she was ideally placed to help squash any rebellious gastronomic ideas.

Team 1:
Ducky (@KingoDuckingham) and Eldûrien (@Frostbite) - Viola tucked in to her share of the steak, which was cooked just to her liking, and the peanut butter on toast. Whilst the diorama was diverting, the taste of it was... interesting. (Which of course is a euphemism for pretty gross). She found the jam in a cactus was a bold move. Unfortunately her commitment to Culinary Conformity meant that Viola couldn't approve of it. She gave extra credit to Eldûrien for doing all the actual cooking in this task, but maybe should've gone with the sandwich. 3/5 each

Team 2:
Aduchil@Aduchil - Ah, the Chief Nemesis of the Culinary Conformists. Viola was absolutely ready to take the elf down. She ate the cassoulet with its crust and was conflicted. Such an abomination should not work - vanilla, with quail, and persimmon? And yet admittedly it tasted nice. Begrudgingly, the hobbit gave the anarchef a high score. 5/5
Aerlinn@Aerlinn - A trio of delicious pies was a meal that Viola fully approved of. She wasn't convinced about the savoury pear one as it was too daring for her plain hobbit sensibilities, but the other two won her over. 5/5

Team 3:
Tarawen@Tarawen - The cheese added a salty, savoury deliciousness to a very nice dish. The rice was well cooked, and the spinach and onions were tasty. However, Viola may not know much about cooking, but being a hobbit she does know about potatoes (which are very much approved of by her mysterious overlords). And purple sweet ones are just not right. 4/5
Starbreeze - @Fairy Nuff Viola liked dipping the stick things into the sauce and munching them. The sesame fingers themselves were pleasing but she was less keen on the dipping sauce itself. 3/5

Team 4:
Arphen@Aethelu - The tender chicken was very nice, as was the fluffy rice next to it. Viola's only niggle was that the pineapple and lemon combination was perhaps too sweet. She still ate it all, which was some comfort since she was missing out on what could've been a delicious dessert. 4/5

Lindariel, judging

Some of these offerings were inspired, and some were ... truly bizarre. Lindariel was beginning to wonder whether or not she had been entirely sane when she volunteered for judging duty; she had not counted on tasting quite so many truly odd experiments (experiments seemed a better word than dishes, perhaps?)

OOC: (as usual, taste scores determined by the dice!)

Team 1
The toast and eggs are passable, though they could have done without the peanut butter, and the steak is not bad. But the cactus stuffed with jelly is truly atrocious and Lindariel can hardly taste it without gagging.
4/12 @Frostbite
-5/12 @KingODuckingham

Team 2
For all of the madcap shenanigans in the kitchen, this team had produced some really good food! Aerlinn's pies were delicious (and while the pastry could have done with butter or shortening instead of oil, Lindariel had to give points for creativity. It was pastry, and it had worked.) And the cassoulet was surprisingly tasty too, despite the eclectic ingredients.
10/12 @Aerlinn
4/6 @Aduchil

Team 3
She was not sure sweet sesame sticks and ... whatever the purple potato dish was ... belonged in the same meal, but they were both pretty tasty! Lindariel was particularly taken with the sweet sesame sticks; it was a creative use of a very minimal set of ingredients. And the purple potato, rice, and cheese dish was tasty enough. All in all, she was actually very happy to have a couple of normal dishes to erase the memory of that terrible cactus ...
4/6 @Fairy Nuff
2/6 @Tarawen

Team 4
It was a shame Veowyn hadn't managed to produce a dish, but Arphen's ideas had a track record of being pretty good, so Lindariel was looking forward to this last dish. Unfortunately it was a bit of a let down - nowhere near as bad as some of the other things she'd tasted today, but it didn't wow her. She liked the creativity of the pineapple on the chicken, but somehow the flavours weren't quite working out. But it was a good effort, and perfectly edible, which was now an accomplishment in Lindariel's book!
1/6 @Aethelu

"Well done everyone!" Artanis congratulated the chefs, who all looked rather relieved that the partner dish was done. She felt a little bad about the surprise that they had sprung on everyone, but when in a kitchen, things didn't always go your way. And the dishes certainly hadn't always gone the right way according to her taste buds. "It is now time for us to move on to the final task. Once again, you will be working alone. The fifth task is to create a three course meal. There must be a main, but the other two courses are up to you. You will have four hours for this challenge."

With a quick glance at her fellow judges, she said to the contestants, "And we have one final surprise for you all. Lord Elrond will be here shortly to act as our Guest Judge for the final round. Be prepared to wow him with your cooking skills, especially because he has been so generous as to allow us the use of his kitchens for this event."


(@Veowyn: Unfortunately, we needed to eliminate your character due to lack of posting. If you would like, you are welcome to continue on as a spectator or post leaving the kitchens in a hurry)

(@Aigronding Mordagnir Enter as Lord Elrond whenever you would like over the next 72 hours).

Aerlinn Mordagnir, hiding

The pantry was a cozy sort of place. Deep, earthy colors, cool and sheltered from the sweltering summer sun, lovely, if somewhat conflicting, smells and, mostly importantly, a door. Most of the available rations weren't fit to eat as is, but Aerlinn had managed to feel around in the dark until she found a nice, breakable cheese. She nibbled on it in furious thought.

A three course meal, unless one dish was tea and one dish was ice cream, violated her most important principle when it came to cooking--wash as few dishes as possible afterwards (ice cream was worth the sacrifice). Of course, if there were any unbroken dishes left in Imladris after this final round she would be surprised. Which was exactly her second problem, wasn't it? The elf pressed her right eye to the crack between the door and the frame and attempted to peer around the wide room. It was hopeless, curses be on the fineness of elven craftsmanship, and the kitchen had been dead silent since Artanis' announcement.

She wasn't fooled. There were as many sabotages left as contestants. Sticking so much as her toe out was madness.

Arphen, preparing her final dishes

As the judges gave their scores, there was little Arphen could do but sigh. It had not been an ideal round in the end. More than her scores though, she was worried as to where Veowyn had disappeared to. She could only hope she was alright. Looking down at her plate of food, she wondered what she could have done better. No matter, she needed to tidy up before the final round. Picking up her dirty dishes, she wandered over to get them cleaned up. As she headed back to her place, she was surprised to see there were now two elves stood eating what was left of her food.

"Excuse me," she said as she approached, a little annoyed to see them devouring her hard work.

"Well," said one of the elves, turning to her with a fork still in his mouth. "I think it's quite nice. I don't know what those judges were talking about."

"Idhion!" Arphen gasped to see her son before her, as he quickly swallowed his mouthful of food before beaming at her. The other elf smiled at her too, revealing her daughter was there too. "Bainiel!"

"We thought you might need some support for the final round," said Idhion, giving his sister a nudge. "Yes," responded Bainiel, with a quick glare at her brother. "We wanted to be here for you."

"Oh," Arphen felt a lump in her throat. At times she had found Bainiel difficult to deal with as she had grown up. Idhion was usually the one to run off after her when a disagreement had happened, leaving Arphen alone. She couldn't deny that at times she found herself wishing she was closer to them, so to see them coming to support her was something quite special. "I'll do my best. You had best wait out of the way for now though." She gave them each a quick hug before shooing them away. Idhion waved to her as he went, while Bainiel called out as she walked away. "As long as you do better than I did at archery, you'll be fine." Archery? What archery was she talking about?

There was no time to figure out what her daughter was referring to as it was time to start cooking. Three dishes, with at least one as a main dish. What could she make? Something she liked? Something Lord Elrond would like? Perhaps she should move out of her comfort zone and make something more...exotic. She had the idea at last.

Quickly she hurried over to grab all the ingredients and tools she would need. It was to be a main dish, a side dish, and a dessert inspired by some far off land she had heard of called Japan. The side dish was going to take the most work she felt so she would start those first. They were dumplings, but she would need to make everything, even the pastry, from scratch. The wrappers were fairly easy, just flour, salt, and water, mixed together until she had a dough. She set it to one side while she made the filling. Arphen cut up cabbage, springs onions, mushrooms, garlic, and ginger as fine as possible before adding them to a bowl full of ground pork. Now was the fun part, putting the two together and shaping them. The dough had to be separated into little balls before being carefully rolled out flat. A dollop of the filling in the middle and she had to pull and pinch the edges together. The first two were rather...ugly little things. Soon she got into a rhythm though and before she knew it she had a dozen lovely little dumplings.

Now she thought she had best work on dessert, the main needed to be the very last thing cooked. She wasn't quite sure how Imladris had such specialised ingredients to make such a dessert, but they did so she wasn't going to complain. 6 strawberries, fresh and beautifully red sat before her. She chopped off the tops before wrapping them in the paste made from red beans. She was starting to wish she'd gotten some extra strawberries to snack on while she waited, but this was no time to get hungry. She needed to prepare the special dough. Glutinous rice flour and water in a bowl, along with some sugar until it was all mixed in, before she popped it onto the fire to steam.

As she surveyed the state of her workstation, now covered in dishes and bowls, she felt almost exhausted already. She still needed to prepare her main dish and then cook it and her side dish, not to mention finishing her dessert. It was all a lot to do. Glancing up she noticed her children in the crowd by the door, they were both smiling at her. Idhion gave her a wave and even Bainiel gave her a thumbs up. She couldn't show herself up in front of them, she had to keep going. Squaring up her shoulders, she set about preparing her main dish while her sticky rice dough cooked.

Arphen, with a new found sense of determination, began to chop up her next set of ingredients. Pork belly, onions, carrot, mushrooms, cabbage, all chopped into thin slices as quickly as possible without chopping off her own fingers in the process. She even had time to mix up the sauce as the dough finished cooking. It was getting to be a sprint to the finish now to get all of it to come together. The dough was coated in starch, before wrapping it around the red bean paste that she had wrapped around the strawberries. She had to work fast before the dough cooled, but soon enough she had 6 little white parcels of dessert.

Now she needed to cook with three pans at once, a third hand would come in handy right about now she thought to herself. Into one pan went water, oil into the other two. Noodles in water, dumplings in oil, vegetables in meat in the other oil. She puffed some loose hair up and away from her face as she tried to watch all three pans at once. At the right moment, as the bottoms of the dumplings turned brown, she poured water in and covered the pan with a lid. With that done, she turned back to her noodles to check they were done before adding them to the meat and vegetables. All of it had to be flipped and tossed and mixed around as she added in the sauce as well, a mixture of soy sauce, oyster sauce, worcestershire sauce, and sugar. If all else failed, she would definitely have some big arm muscles by the end of it all.

Time was ticking away as she tried to finish it all off ready to plate up. The dumplings got an extra bit of oil to make sure they were nice and crispy. The main dish was looking glossy so she tipped it into a big bowl. The dumplings came out of the pan and were set on a plate next to the bowl. Lastly, she put the dessert on another plate and set them all together at the end of her station. It was perfect. She breathed a sigh of relief that she had managed to finish it all in time. She looked up to see Idhion waving at her with a look of concern. She waved back, though she couldn't figure out why he looked so worried. He mimed picking something up, dabbing it on his hand, and then lifting it to his mouth. He did it a few times, pleading with his eyes.

"OH NO!" Arphen cried out as she looked between him and the food. The dumplings were supposed to have a dipping sauce. As fast as lightning, she grabbed soy sauce, rice vinegar, and some chilli oil and combined them in a little bowl. She slammed it down onto the plate with the dumplings, a little spilling over the side as she did. She heard Idhion let out a little cheer from the crown, she looked up just in time to see Bainiel giving him a slap around the head and telling him to shush.

It didn't matter though, she had done it, and just in time. "For my final dishes, I present pork belly yakisoba with pork gyoza. For dessert it is a strawberry daifuku. I hope you enjoy it." Oh she could only hope in this final moment she had done enough and they would like it.

OOC: Let's go out with a bang with a 12 sided dice

Aduchil, seizing the ace up his hat

Aduchil exhaled. Finally, the moment he had waited for. Soon, the iron-fisted ruler of Rivendell would taste the forces of anarcho-culinary might. It was time... to make the Dish. Well, three of them, but only one would be with a capital letter. Or... why limit himself? Why not make three Dishes. Oh yes. Everything was coming up Aduchil. But he could not dally any longer. If he were to have three courses ready, he had to get to work.

Soup for appetiser. Steak and potatoes for main course. Salad as a side dish. It would work. It had to work. Aduchil cast a stolen glance at his work station, specifically the table. More specifically, what lay beneath. But the time was not yet for the reveal. Everything in the right order. It was time to get started on the soup.

Pot on the stove, heat to tickle the metal, and butter to melt. As the yellow churned milk melted like how tyranny would melt before culinary prowess, Aduchil threw in spoons of flour. He spent a moment fishing out the spoons, leaving just the flour to become absorbed by the butter. With that as a base, he poured in water along with spices, letting it boil and extract flavour. Ever since his days working with hostile corporate takeovers, Aduchil had become an expert on extracting all things of value.

While the pot boiled and toiled merrily, Aduchil prepared for double trouble. Another pot to boil potatoes, and a sauce pan to make... sauce. It was too soon to start on the latter, so Aduchil fetched ingredients for his salad. Lettuce, bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, and nuts. And this time, if anyone stole his nuts, Aduchil would chop off their fingers and fry them like sausages. With the swift speed that had, in fact, once cost a kitchen assistent his index finger, Aduchil chopped the greens and threw them together into a bowl. It only needed the finishing touch, which would come soon.

Heating up a pan, Aduchil used another generous dose of butter. Chopped garlic and sprigs of thyme were added, and finally, four steaks placed in the searing heat. Basting the meat, the smell briefly brought Aduchil back to the great fire of Osgiliath. Contrary to popular opinion, it was not an invasion of orcs that had destroyed the city. It had in fact been an afternoon barbeque gone wrong. Aduchil had since then switched from coals to gas when doing barbeques.

It was time. The arbiters of this contest had wisely searched Aduchil, confiscating his wide array of tools and emergency kits. Yet one thing had been overlooked. The second thing that Aduchil had done, arriving on the first day, had been to remove his chef's hat and place it under his table in the kitchen. Why was it not the first thing he had done? Who knew. Aduchil certainly did not. Regardless, it had worked. Anything on his person had been seized, but the jewel of his empire had remained safe, waiting for this moment. Fishing out the hat, Aduchil inserted his arm. He opened the door to the swimming pool, reached in past the library, and pulled out a bag of mushrooms, harvested from the surprisingly downwards built tower of no return in Mordor.

Licking his lips, Aduchil set to work. The first batch of the spongy skulls went into the first pot, slowly boiling into a mushroom soup. The remainder went into the sauce pan, being fried in the buttery mix from the meat pan that Aduchil carefully poured over. Setting the steaks aside to cool, Aduchil fried a round of mushrooms as had never been fried before. A handful was retrieved to be thrown into the salad, turning into a mushroom salad. The remainder in the sauce pan welcomed cream and water from the potato pot, slowly cooking itself into a mushroom sauce.

Salt and seasoning followed, but it was hardly necessary. These mushrooms would prove quite a trip. Arranging his courses, Aduchil poured mushroom soup into little bowls. Small plates received mushroom salad, and larger plates each got a steak and potatoes with mushroom sauce poured over. Utensils prepared, and the battle could commence. With the ace up his hat, victory was assured. He smiled at the judges, Lord Elrond in particular. At last the master of Imladris would see the truth once he tasted the Dish. The Dishes, even. Soon, chaos would reign supreme! Aduchil broke into a maniacal laughter, only broken by a coughing fit as his own spit went down the wrong pipe. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he wheezed. "Anyone got any apple whiskey?"

OOC: Roll my final sixer, and let the dice fall where they may