Post by Lorenzo da Firenze (Vargas) on Jan 27, 2012 11:45:28 GMT -5
A/N: Ignoring my head!Florence telling me that having two stories going at the same time would end up being a horrible mistake I decided that the world needed a new Italian cookbook. Myself being Italian I have to cook, which I do. So you'll be finding out how to make traditional Italian cuisine from an actual Italian... via Internet. If this becomes popular enough I might move onto world cuisine and add in stuff like Bao, Sushi, Hamburgers (ick ) and other stuff. But for now let me introduce:
A Tale of a Thousand Recipes.
“Uccellino, why don’t you sleep in your own bed- and not on my lap?” Lorenzo said softly, placing a lightly tanned hand on the boy’s sleeping head. The small Italian yawned, slightly annoyed from being woken up.
“Zoni…” he replied sleepily, rubbing his half closed eyes, obviously not wanting to move on his own. The man sighed, picking up the boy he propped boy onto his shoulder walking across to enter the boy’s room. He could feel the warmth of the boys breathe against him as he nuzzled deeper into the crook of Florence’s neck. He smiled, quietly opening the door to the boy’s room with his foot.
Placing the sleeping boy on the bed he pulled the quilt over the Italian. Standing he stretched, yawning a bit as he began to exit the small bedroom “Ve, Zoni?” he heard the boy ask, Lorenzo smiled, knowing what would come next.
“Yes Uccellino?”
“Read me a bedtime story?”
“Read you a bedtime story….” He began, just because it was night didn’t mean manners were abolished.
“Please?” the boy asked, a slight whining tone in his voice.
“Si,” Lorenzo sighed, amusement showing in the small smile he wore on his face as he turned and sat at the foot of Veneciano’s bed. “What story would you like me to read?”
“Cook book!” the boy said, his small arms waving enthusiastically.
Florence rolled his eyes, “Vene, I’ve read that book to you every night since the book was published.”
“Ve!” The boy chirped, “Read it again!”
Lorenzo sighed, arguing with a child was like… well… arguing with a child. There was no way to get them to agree without tears. He reached across and plucked the large Italian cookbook off of the shelf that sat next to the bed. “What recipe would you like me to read?” he asked, looking down at the boy who sat grinning at the opposite end of the bed.
“Ve! All of them!” the Italian smiled.
“Why not just a few a night?” Florence yawned.
The boy pouted, but the yawn was contagious so soon he leaned back against the wall and nodded. “Si..” he ve’d one more time before closing his eyes.
“Part de uno, what you need for an Italian kitchen-“ Florence stopped ”this part is so dry, ve, are you sure you don’t want to just skip right to the recipes?”
“Ve!” the boy said stubbornly shaking his head. Lorenzo sighed, turning back to the book.
“Uno; Pasta roller, if you plan on not making the pasta by hand. A good rolling pin for bread, an array of different sized bowls, a frying pan for hitting Prussia with,” Lorenzo added in with a sly smile, hearing the boy giggle and then waited before he continued “A pot for boiling and a colander. A Pasta spoon, spatula, slated spoon, cheese grater, sharpe knives, sauce pan, a baking pan-” he paused, looking over at the boy who slept peacefully.
He smiled, “we will start earlier tomorrow then,” he quietly closed the book. Standing he exited the small room, closing the door silently.
A/N: Okay, intro chapter. Not the most action-packed thriller chapter I've ever written but whatever. Post what you'd like to learn how to cook. Next time I'll be teaching either how to make pasta or red sauce for pasta.
Weaver out.
A Tale of a Thousand Recipes.
“Uccellino, why don’t you sleep in your own bed- and not on my lap?” Lorenzo said softly, placing a lightly tanned hand on the boy’s sleeping head. The small Italian yawned, slightly annoyed from being woken up.
“Zoni…” he replied sleepily, rubbing his half closed eyes, obviously not wanting to move on his own. The man sighed, picking up the boy he propped boy onto his shoulder walking across to enter the boy’s room. He could feel the warmth of the boys breathe against him as he nuzzled deeper into the crook of Florence’s neck. He smiled, quietly opening the door to the boy’s room with his foot.
Placing the sleeping boy on the bed he pulled the quilt over the Italian. Standing he stretched, yawning a bit as he began to exit the small bedroom “Ve, Zoni?” he heard the boy ask, Lorenzo smiled, knowing what would come next.
“Yes Uccellino?”
“Read me a bedtime story?”
“Read you a bedtime story….” He began, just because it was night didn’t mean manners were abolished.
“Please?” the boy asked, a slight whining tone in his voice.
“Si,” Lorenzo sighed, amusement showing in the small smile he wore on his face as he turned and sat at the foot of Veneciano’s bed. “What story would you like me to read?”
“Cook book!” the boy said, his small arms waving enthusiastically.
Florence rolled his eyes, “Vene, I’ve read that book to you every night since the book was published.”
“Ve!” The boy chirped, “Read it again!”
Lorenzo sighed, arguing with a child was like… well… arguing with a child. There was no way to get them to agree without tears. He reached across and plucked the large Italian cookbook off of the shelf that sat next to the bed. “What recipe would you like me to read?” he asked, looking down at the boy who sat grinning at the opposite end of the bed.
“Ve! All of them!” the Italian smiled.
“Why not just a few a night?” Florence yawned.
The boy pouted, but the yawn was contagious so soon he leaned back against the wall and nodded. “Si..” he ve’d one more time before closing his eyes.
“Part de uno, what you need for an Italian kitchen-“ Florence stopped ”this part is so dry, ve, are you sure you don’t want to just skip right to the recipes?”
“Ve!” the boy said stubbornly shaking his head. Lorenzo sighed, turning back to the book.
“Uno; Pasta roller, if you plan on not making the pasta by hand. A good rolling pin for bread, an array of different sized bowls, a frying pan for hitting Prussia with,” Lorenzo added in with a sly smile, hearing the boy giggle and then waited before he continued “A pot for boiling and a colander. A Pasta spoon, spatula, slated spoon, cheese grater, sharpe knives, sauce pan, a baking pan-” he paused, looking over at the boy who slept peacefully.
He smiled, “we will start earlier tomorrow then,” he quietly closed the book. Standing he exited the small room, closing the door silently.
A/N: Okay, intro chapter. Not the most action-packed thriller chapter I've ever written but whatever. Post what you'd like to learn how to cook. Next time I'll be teaching either how to make pasta or red sauce for pasta.
Weaver out.