Setting: mangaverse, post-Promised Day.
Warnings: Coy references to sexytimes, innuendo stretched to breaking point
Summary: In their kitchen, my parents have a mixing bowl - a wedding present to them - that's printed with the words "küssen vergeht, kochen besteht." Apparently this actually means something like "kissing fades, cooking endures," but they've always claimed it means, more entertainingly, "don't start the kissing until you've finished the cooking." Wise words.
Notes: written for fmagiftexchange for the prompt apple pie.
Disclaimer: Not mine. All hail the Great Cow!
For the pastry:
2 cups/250g plain flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar
12 tablespoons butter
6 to 8 tablespoons cold water
9 inch/22 cm pie dish
For the filling:
5 sharp apples, preferably cooking apples
the juice of a lemon
1 cup/225g of sugar
2 tablespoons flour
3 tablespoons butter
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
"Look, it's your turn, that's all! I've done this lots of times, it's about time you started! I can teach you, it'll be fun."
"But - the goo is going to go right into the joints of the automail, it'll be a pain in the ass to clean it out. Can I do this one-handed?"
"Maybe. I don't think it works as well, though. Look, I got a clean rubber glove from the workshop, put that on -"
"Hey, thanks. So, what do I do, just pinch it?"
Cut the butter into small pieces then rub it into the flour with clean hands until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. Add spoonfuls of cold water, and mix together with your hands quickly until the pastry can be formed into a smooth, non-sticky ball. Keep somewhere cold.
"No, Ed, you sort of rub it between your fingers. Here - like this."
"Ah. I get it. I rub the butter into the flour bits like that, right? Ah - hey, that tickles, stoppit."
"Yeah, just like that. Carry on."
"Heh, no really, stop it - eh? Did you just - lick the automail brace?"
"No! Okay, yes. Just a little bit?"
"You licked my automail brace. Oh my god, you're such a pervert."
"You love it. You totally love it with your mechanical freak brain."
"Hey, bet I know what you'd really like ..."
"Hee hee hee."
Core and peel the apples, then chop them into slices, dropping them as you go into acidulated water to prevent browning.
"What, all of these? Eh, that's gonna take all day. Let me just-"
"No! Hey! No alchemy in the kitchen! "
"What? I'm trying to help-"
"C'mon, you can't chop the apples with alchemy, you know it always makes food taste like ozone-"
"C'mon, it's not that bad. Kind of an aftertaste, plus there's all that spice and sugar in the pie, we'll hardly notice it, no big deal."
"Okay. Here, do it to one apple. If we both think it tastes all right, you can do the rest."
"You mean like an experiment? Hey, is my influence turning you into a scientist?"
"Engineering is a science, you big alchemy snob-"
"It's mechanical! It's got nothing to do with - look, alchemy is just cooler, sorry, it just is. Alchemists penetrate the mysteries of the universe-"
"Ha! Is that what we're calling it now? That's really cute. So, made any interesting discoveries recently?"
"Wait, what? Oh. Ooh. I get it now. Heh. Okay, there you go - one scientifically segmented apple. Try."
" ... "
"So, how is it? Fine, right?"
"Why don't you try a piece? Here-"
"Bleurgh - ew -"
"Don't spit it into your hand, that's so gross-"
"'Kay. You may possibly be right about the alchemic apple-chopping. I bet I could refine it, though, if I run this by Al-"
Divide the pastry into two equal halves, then roll one out until it is slightly larger than the pie dish. Roll it around your rolling pin and unroll it into the dish. Drain the apples of water, then mix them with the spices. Put them in the pie dish. Dot with butter. Roll out the remaining pastry and put it on top. Crimp the edges with a fork. Use pastry scraps to decorate if you're feeling creative.
"C'mon, just let me this time, I'll be careful, and we can put extra sugar on after if you think it's gonna taste weird. I could put something really cool on the top, like maybe a cow skull with the horns attached and a tongue coming out and -"
"No, it'll taste like alchemy, alchemy flavour apple pie."
"Al would like the skull -"
"What is that taste, anyway? Why does alchemy always smell so weird?"
"It's ozone. Alchemical reactions produce it, that's the blue colour you see. It's an allotrope of oxygen, lightning storms produce it too, that's why alchemy smells like lightning. But it's not dangerous, the great thing about it is that it's an unstable compound, so it just decays naturally back into normal diatomic oxygen -"
"You asked! Anyway, it might taste funny, but in those concentrations it's not actually damaging because -"
"Hey, this is from the woman who asked for a subscription to Modern Engineer magazine for her tenth birthday. Weren't you supposed to have a pony phase about then or something?"
"Ponies are boring. Automail is the ultimate machine. I mean it! It's the perfect combination of form and function, it's beautiful because nothing's unnecessary or decorative, every single part has its purpose, and if it's well-crafted, the design can be just totally harmonious and-"
Bake for 45 minutes in a moderate oven ...
"Really? Tch, I thought we could go to the river while the sun's still out."
"It'll all still be there in an hour, you know."
"I know, it's just - sitting around, you know?"
"What, sitting around is not your favourite thing? Geez, I never noticed -"
"Oh, ha ha -"
"Want something to keep you busy?"
"Yeah? Do ya?"
"Unh - okay -"
"Hee hee hee."
.... until the top is lightly browned.
"Mmm. Unh ... Hey, wait, do you smell something weird? Is something burning downstairs?"
"Oh crap, the pie!"
"Shit! How long has it been in for?"
"I don't know! I have to go and get it out!"
"Winry, hang on a - uh Win, wait! Put some clothes on!"
Cool to room temperature, serve with cream, and enjoy!
"Hey, it's not that bad. We could scrape the burnt bits off the top?"
"But Al'l be disappointed ..."
"Win, you've made him apple pie like twice a week for the last three weeks. I think he's gonna cope."
"Maybe we could - hey, I could take the burnt crust off the top, then bake meringue on top instead and it would look like it was supposed to be like that!"
"Sounds good! Great! We could just say it was an experiment. So, uh, we should let it cool down for a while, right? Like we should leave this for a few minutes to cool down before we fix it? So, uh, the pastry will be less crumbly, and it'll be easier to -"
"So we should just go back upstairs in the meantime, huh? You are so transparent."
"Heh. Maybe. Did it work?"