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ph_logs2024-11-17 05:49 pm
saltwaterlungs) wrote in ph_logs2024-11-17 05:49 pm
An ounce of sauce...
CHARACTERS: Darcy and YOU?
DATE: November
LOCATION: Darcy’s restaurant and others
SITUATION: Setting up the new place
WARNINGS: None
The fights in the Casino were the most alive Darcy has felt in a while. Which is probably concerning. But more concerning was the feeling of sinking when check-out finally rolled around and he and his little family left, back to the relative safety and mundanity of the island. Yes, that’s a deeply terrible word for this place, all things considered. But the fact remains that Darcy is bored. Is this all there is? The occasional whetting of his appetite and the return to drudgery, the same menu, the same actions, the same ceaseless endless fucking march of nothing? Most shifts don’t even have Max now that he’s managing his bakery and sorting out the café.
Unfortunately, the casino also had a fancy haute restaurant. And Darcy went. More than once. Even with the goodberries, even with his suspicions of the place. Lyon is a city as known for its food as New York is for belligerence, even with his household budget being tight, you could feel it practically in the water. The brasseries, the intimidating shadow of Le Maison du Paul with its clock-face and the rooster looming, the food carts, the butchers- even school meals were good. Yeah, he’s homesick. But it’s more than that, too.
He misses the excellence of competition, he misses his perfectionism, he misses who he was when he had a goal in mind. It feels more and more like Darcy is a shadow of his former self.
So it’s an impulse when he sees the ‘for sale’ sign being hammered in what looks to be an old run-down pub on his way home from another dull shift. Fight him about it. There has to be something more here, and he intends to find it.
The front door of La Veritable Dragon Rouge has a note hammered to it.
“Deliveries; out the back. Loved ones; I am fine and I am remembering to eat, please only drag me out if past 10pm.”
The first few weeks of the kitchens is a lot of learning how to run the place. Renovations yes, obviously, there’s enough grease on the floor of the kitchen to fry half a city if needed. But mostly it’s things like sourcing supply lines of ingredients, learning how to run the brigade, and- of course- trialling dishes.
A) If you run a farm, early in the morning- about the time of first farm chores- you’ll get a knock on the door. Standing there is Darcy with a notebook in one hand and a basket on the other, with their usual sour expression of intensity.
“Hey. I need to know what produce you have in season right now.”
B) The main dining hall of La Dragon is dark and moody, mostly wood with elaborate carvings on the walls and draped red curtains, and it seems like Darcy wants to keep it that way. Up a set of stairs there are a few alcoves for relative privacy, and towards the back near the pass there’s a chef’s table made of an old butcher’s workbench, scratched up with use. There you can find Darcy hunched over a notebook writing ideas down. Maybe you’re visiting during work hours to say hi, or maybe you’re here to drag her to bed after a too-long day. Either way, there's a tattooed old pirate elf on the back steps smoking, a bitter-looking butch dwarf with a crate of wine checking the labels, and a dapper young half-orc who seems stiffly happy and terrified to show you to the back where Darcy is.
C) Passers-by in downtown will find themselves accosted by a dour young person holding a plate of dainty looking appetisers.
“Hey- try one,” he orders, not really asking. There’s a round of bread with some kind of savoury buttery spread on it and some light herbs, or a folded pastry with a golden crust and wilted wild greens inside.
“Don’t eat that one if you don’t eat animals,” he says pointing to the bread, “it’s bone-marrow.”
Wildcard at will or message me here/on discord.
DATE: November
LOCATION: Darcy’s restaurant and others
SITUATION: Setting up the new place
WARNINGS: None
Buffet Froid [meta]
The fights in the Casino were the most alive Darcy has felt in a while. Which is probably concerning. But more concerning was the feeling of sinking when check-out finally rolled around and he and his little family left, back to the relative safety and mundanity of the island. Yes, that’s a deeply terrible word for this place, all things considered. But the fact remains that Darcy is bored. Is this all there is? The occasional whetting of his appetite and the return to drudgery, the same menu, the same actions, the same ceaseless endless fucking march of nothing? Most shifts don’t even have Max now that he’s managing his bakery and sorting out the café.
Unfortunately, the casino also had a fancy haute restaurant. And Darcy went. More than once. Even with the goodberries, even with his suspicions of the place. Lyon is a city as known for its food as New York is for belligerence, even with his household budget being tight, you could feel it practically in the water. The brasseries, the intimidating shadow of Le Maison du Paul with its clock-face and the rooster looming, the food carts, the butchers- even school meals were good. Yeah, he’s homesick. But it’s more than that, too.
He misses the excellence of competition, he misses his perfectionism, he misses who he was when he had a goal in mind. It feels more and more like Darcy is a shadow of his former self.
So it’s an impulse when he sees the ‘for sale’ sign being hammered in what looks to be an old run-down pub on his way home from another dull shift. Fight him about it. There has to be something more here, and he intends to find it.
Coquilles
The front door of La Veritable Dragon Rouge has a note hammered to it.
“Deliveries; out the back. Loved ones; I am fine and I am remembering to eat, please only drag me out if past 10pm.”
The first few weeks of the kitchens is a lot of learning how to run the place. Renovations yes, obviously, there’s enough grease on the floor of the kitchen to fry half a city if needed. But mostly it’s things like sourcing supply lines of ingredients, learning how to run the brigade, and- of course- trialling dishes.
A) If you run a farm, early in the morning- about the time of first farm chores- you’ll get a knock on the door. Standing there is Darcy with a notebook in one hand and a basket on the other, with their usual sour expression of intensity.
“Hey. I need to know what produce you have in season right now.”
B) The main dining hall of La Dragon is dark and moody, mostly wood with elaborate carvings on the walls and draped red curtains, and it seems like Darcy wants to keep it that way. Up a set of stairs there are a few alcoves for relative privacy, and towards the back near the pass there’s a chef’s table made of an old butcher’s workbench, scratched up with use. There you can find Darcy hunched over a notebook writing ideas down. Maybe you’re visiting during work hours to say hi, or maybe you’re here to drag her to bed after a too-long day. Either way, there's a tattooed old pirate elf on the back steps smoking, a bitter-looking butch dwarf with a crate of wine checking the labels, and a dapper young half-orc who seems stiffly happy and terrified to show you to the back where Darcy is.
C) Passers-by in downtown will find themselves accosted by a dour young person holding a plate of dainty looking appetisers.
“Hey- try one,” he orders, not really asking. There’s a round of bread with some kind of savoury buttery spread on it and some light herbs, or a folded pastry with a golden crust and wilted wild greens inside.
“Don’t eat that one if you don’t eat animals,” he says pointing to the bread, “it’s bone-marrow.”
Trou Normand
Wildcard at will or message me here/on discord.
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