#I thought I’d like vanilla and cinnamon or rose and cherry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hernakedmuse · 7 months ago

Text

Wolf Moon

Word Count: 4,775

Warnings: It's very Rated M people, no minors no babies, this is going to be gory and sexual, this chapter only talk about sexual situations are mentioned.

Synopsis: I'm starting a couple series, one of them is a Twilight series, this one is Jasper x OC, my own OC named Kira Varady who is part witch and part Child of the Moon. I mix my own myths in here and in my Twilight they have fangs, sorry and they cry blood like True Blood.

Jasper feels constantly feeling lonely, he loves his family but he can't completely be himself with them they don't understand, and while Alice is a warm body (figure of speech), she doesn't have his heart, something that he thinks he lost long ago, until a pretty redhead sits down next to him in English.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kira

I would hate to live here.

I mean, I know Port Angeles is not Seattle but it at least has restaurants…I see not one restaurant here unless you count that little diner. I can understand why I smell some supernatural sort of thing here, something saccharine like diabetic. It’s the perfect sort of seclusion for a non-human to hide out, but so is Port Angeles, only Port Angeles has bars, restaurants, bookstores, movie theaters, stores beside ones that focus on camping.

But starting senior year thereafter what happened…that isn’t an option for me. The thought of walking those halls again makes me so sick to my stomach that I get a dizzy spell, and not a lot of things take me down. That day in May, it’ll be one I’ll never forget.

Will I miss seeing my friends? Of course, especially my very best one, Zach. How could I not miss someone who is uninhibitedly your best friend, someone who knows everything about you, including the bad…especially the bad. And Zachary Allison wholeheartedly accepts it, even embraces it a little. I love him for it, I’ll miss him for it. Sure I’ll see him outside of school, but when you’re a teenager most of your days are consumed by those walls, and I’ll be seeing those diamond blue eyes everyday.

I rolled down the window of my 1989 black Jeep Cherokee. The Cranberries poured out of my car, Empty wasn’t blasting like some obnoxious kid who thinks they’re in a movie, just loud enough for me to enjoy. It’s a clean car, and has a cherry tree hanging from the mirror along with pink fuzzy dice. My aunt got it for me for my 16th birthday, she’s too busy with her bookstore to take me to a lot of places. I parked in the absolute back of the parking lot of Forks High School, speed wasn’t a problem for me, and I needed time to sulk away from a crowd before dragging my feet in. New jail ,same sentence.

I’m not much of a school girl, grades aren’t important to me, and college is the farthest thing from my mind. I know plenty of people like me, well not people…plenty of them are well respected scholars, but I really don’t know what I’m doing or going to do. People think once you’re 17 you’ll just have it, I don’t, maybe next year I’ll live in Budapest to stay close to my dad, I need to practice my astral projection anyway and my Hungarian is tökéletes.

I nursed my cold to-go cup of coffee, it’s French Vanilla and rose from my Aunt’s bookstore. Topped with whipped cream and a soft dusting of cinnamon, but I can’t drink it now. I did eat my croissant breakfast sandwich though, sausage, a folded egg, white american cheese, and rose raspberry jam.

I promised my Aunt Liz I wouldn’t be late, I promised I’d try though, make her feel like she didn’t screw me up. I checked my makeup in the mirror and looked down at my outfit of choice, a sheer lime green button down blouse, only two buttons in the middle done, the rest undone revealing a good portion of my stomach and cleavage, the sleeves are a little long and bell like, and underneath the sheer gossamer material was a cropped black camisole, it matches the black mini skirt that hugged my big hips and backside, I hate how big my ass is but it didn’t stop me from wearing pretty clothes, I guess I’m a masochist. A chain belt with a crescent moon charm dangled from the belt down to my thigh, and black knee high boots supported my feet. I kept the hot rollers in my hair for two hours this morning. My intense copper red hair is heavy and mostly straight, and its length down to my waist makes it easy to keep the body. My lips are too big and my face too round, maybe Heartthrob by Revlon will make it look more subtle. My eyes are bold like everything else on my face, hooded and liquid gold, my eyelashes accentuated by mascara and that’s all.

I sprayed on my Victoria’s Secret body mist and pulled on my leather bomber jacket that was a little too big for my frame and popped in a piece of spearmint Extra gum. I grabbed my pastel lilac Jansport that was bedazzled with a million band pins, and keychains of fuzzy creatures. I got out of the Jeep and made sure it was locked before walking to my doom, and Zach wasn’t there to keep me sane. I put my headphones on and put on my Candlebox CD. I need to block out the sound so I turn it up loud.

I should turn it on, hear the voices, let them in. To get a feel of my surroundings, but it failed me before, it failed me with him. Haven’t turned it back on sense, but even when I turn it off I still hear some, and with very loud music I can tune it out.

I couldn’t turn off my nose though, above the usual human flesh which only entices me around a certain time of the month there was that sickly, treacly, syrupy, cloying, sugary smell again. My stom ach turned and I added another piece of gum to suppress the nausea, I really couldn’t smell it, sometimes I’ll smell it when I go to the city, like Seattle, like San Francisco, like Paris, like Budapest. But never in Port Angeles, and in Forks I’m surprised that I smell it so strongly, especially now.

I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s someone, someone not human. But then…then, another scent hit me as I passed through the parking lot, something softly sweet, not fully sweet, but like sweet oranges, aquatic musk, there’s a warm hint of cozy fresh linens being singed by burning embers. It was the most incredible scent in the world! Her mouth water but not in hunger, but in a want, a need for comfort or to be wrapped in like a blanket.

I closed my eyes and inhaled, I didn’t realize I stopped until someone collided into me. Someone who smells like strawberries and freesia but cut nicely with earthy lavender. But she wasn’t on the menu this morning. “I’m so sorry!”

I opened my eyes to see a nervous girl, an apologetic brunette with silky chocolate hair and espresso brown eyes with remorseful, peach lips. “Well it’s awfully nice to meet you sorry, I’m Kira, do you know where the office is in a place like this?” I gave her a teasing smile.

The girl awkwardly laughed, the apology disappearing from her expression and her shoulders began to relax a little. We were both getting looks, probably because she was talking to the new girl, I pushed my headphones down from my copper head. “I’m actually Bella, and I don’t- I-I just moved here.”

I was surprised, she fit in here nicely. “So am I, are you from Portland or Seattle?”

She wore a look of amusement on her face, she has a nice simple face and pretty eyes, like something you’d see in Dutch art, that kind of beauty. “Actually I’m from Phoenix, Arizona.”

My eyes widened comically in shock, making the girl full on laugh now. She looked like what you imagine a Pacific Northwesterner to look like.

“I know, I swear I’m probably part albino.”

“But it’s pretty, like Snow White.” I winced. “Was that rude? Sometimes I talk like an idiot, I swear I can be pretty smart sometimes.”

My voice didn’t help, with its squeakish yet raspy quality, I sounded like a total airhead, or a sick baby.

“I’m sure you can be, but really it’s okay. Where are you from, California?”

“Um” I giggled. “Actually, I live an hour away, Port Angeles most of my life. Before that though, I was from San Francisco for a day.” I’m naturally olive and tan, people assume I’m a native of California a lot because of it, but it’s just my Romani heritage on my dad’s side.

“We should swap stories, tell everyone I’m from Port Angeles and you’re from Phoenix.” She smiled.

I grinned. “That is tempting, but I’ve never been to Phoenix. I wonder why they call it that, I never heard of firebirds there.” I joked, but Bella looked at me like she thought I was serious.

“Let's find the office, I bet he knows.” I walked over to a tall and cute Asian guy who looked like he was right out of Weezer. When he looked at me his eyes widened and I could smell his blood heat up and hear his heart speed up, I could smell his arousal and saw his eyes fall to my ample cleavage, my double D’s always are a bit of a problem I swear. “Hi, I’m Kira, and this is Bella-”

“Varady and Swan, yeah I’m Eric Yorkie, a junior.” He looked at Bella with interest before returning his gaze to me. I sort of swayed in my stance as I waited for him to continue. “I can tell you guys everything you need to know about Forks High School.” He’s very enthusiastic, so far people here are friendlier than at my old high school.

“I’d love to know where the office is, you’re perfect for the job Eric.” His pupils dilated when I said his name and I couldn't help but laugh. “Hey, are you in a band? You look like an Indie rocker, like Weezer or Smashing Pumpkins or Panic!At the Disco.”

Eric Yorkie looked far too excited at that, I hope he wouldn’t take what I said too seriously. He’s nice and he doesn’t seem to be the most confident, I like people to feel good about themselves. “I-I am, I am totally the right guy for that job- for any job!”

I giggled. “Great, come on Bella!”

Eric showed us the shortcut to the front office, taking us to Mrs. Cope, a sweet little curvy redhead lady who’s about middle aged and smells like Chantilly. “You must be Kira Varady and Isabella Swan! Welcome to Forks High School!”

From all the voices in the hall, I know everyone expected us. It’s a little place, Forks, Washington. Where everyone knows everyone, and they’ve been here since forever. Bella and I are the most exciting thing that’s happening, and that’s odd being entertained so easily.

“Here are your schedules and a map of the school, although I see Mr. Yorkie wouldn’t mind helping you with that.” She laughed goodnaturedly as she handed us all that we needed for this year. “And Kira don’t you worry, nothing ever happens here at Forks High School,” I felt my blood run cold as the woman mentioned the event, suddenly I could hardly breathe, of course she’d know. “I heard about that awful tragedy at your last high school, and my niece Taylor goes to Port Angeles High School. You knew Travis Jones pretty well didn’t you? I’m really so sorry-”

“Yes well thank you Mrs. Cope, for all of this, we really have to find our classes!” I interrupted abruptly and walked right out of the office, I felt so overheated like my brain was going to fry.

I took a deep breath and turned around to face Bella with a false smile plastered onto my face. She looked like she wanted to ask what that was about, but she didn’t. Thank the stars for that. I couldn’t handle that sort of question right now. “I think this is where we go our separate ways, what class do you have?”

“English with Mr. Birdie, you?”

“Um, Literature as well, then Film Studies, Humanities, then lunch, P.E., Anatomy, Photography, Study Hall, and Economics. I’m so glad I’m a senior.” I looked around. “I’ll go and find it, it was really nice meeting you Bella.”

“You too, Kira!”

I made my way down the hall, my hearing was enhanced and I could hear people talk about me, admire me, judge me, some desiring with all their heart to hate me and want me.

“She’s so hot, that’s Kira Varady or however you pronounce it, after that kid got killed at Port Angeles High School she transferred here.”

“Man I don’t know if I could drive an hour out the way to school five days out of seven just because some kid got eaten.”

“Well I don’t mean to be a jerk but I don’t care what got her here, I’m just glad she is, look at that ass it’s like out of a rap video and those tits!”

“She’s kinda ridiculous looking, who dresses up THAT much you know?”

“Her ass looks a little fat in that skirt don’t you think?”

“Lauren, I think you’re jealous because you don’t have one!”

I may be able to turn the mind reading off, but my enhanced senses never go away. Sometimes I wish I was just normal.

I took a deep breath before I entered my classroom. Standing in front of the class was a tall woman with a brown bob and wearing a heavy cardigan and long dress, the classroom was covered in poetic and literary posters. I’m guessing this is Ms. Allen. Her face lit up, warm brown eyes with gentle aging around them just illuminated like a Christmas tree at the sight of me. “Class, our new student has arrived, this is Kira Varady!”

Jasper

I don’t know how many more times I can take this.

How many times am I supposed to be a senior in fucking high school?

Why can’t it ever be college, I think we do the college bit once every couple decades, I think bell bottoms were in fashion last time I got my PhD. At least there I’m surrounded by adults. It’s always high school, nothing is even a little bit interesting in high school, I know those shows like to make it something grand and life changing, they also like to make them more mature thinking, than they actually are. But that’s good television. I’m 158 years old, physically 19, but fuck I’m literally too old for this.

Carlisle said it’s good for me to get used to being around humans, try and adapt myself, try to not kill them when they’re around. You see, I’ve only been an animal drinker for 55 years, that’s not a long time in vampire years. I wasn’t a good man- or vampire, I didn’t feed off just the guilty, sometimes the innocent too and meeting Alice was the best thing that happened to me. She loves me, I think I love her, or I’m not sure I do, but she makes me feel less lonely, and that’s nice especially when adjusting. It’s like I said, 55 years isn’t an awfully long time in our world.

I feel like I’m being stabbed in the throat, and my gums ache something awful, I’m so hungry, and to make matters worse, the boys and some girls have been so fucking horny over the new girls, and as an empath…well that combined with my blood lust hasn’t been making this the easiest day.

I sit in this waste of a classroom, Ms. Allen telling us of our curriculum for this semester, we begin with The Scarlet Letter. I've read that damn book more times than I could remember. I envy all those who could be put down by a bullet, what I wouldn’t give for a .45 to the temple now. When I start spiraling like this, I usually grab Alice, sex sometimes is my only release, it certainly isn’t hunting Bambi.

When that door opened in Ms. Allen’s English class, it hit me. It violently slammed me in the face, the most intoxicating scent, a fragrance that makes my mouth water in a way of uncontrollable biological urge, it came to me in the smells of a botanical aroma, the harsh but beautiful thorns of a rose, a woodslike perfume a musk that ended in the sweet floral essence of apple blossoms. And in walked the most, gorgeous…girl, creature, nymphlike female. A wild and unhinged beauty, light olive skin that looked impossibly soft to touch, with a doll-like face, round and heart-shaped all at once, the most perfectly round, china doll cheeks and an elegant pointed chin that hinted at Eastern European heritage. Lips, a mouth so full and plush, pillowy and painted a seductive, dusky nude a naked and suggestive color. Her nose is perfect and button-like, doll-like just like the rest of her face, hooded eyes like they crafted from glass and porcelain, marionette-like, with lashes of a figurine, dark and long and sweeping, that flutter to reveal liquid gold. A color I only see on those like us, hers are a butterscotch heaven, the richest shade of topaz. Her marionette face was framed by very long, waist-length thick hair, the color of the most intense copper, with auburn blended in giving it an unreal color inhuman, but despite her thin, perfectly round arch dark colored eyebrows, it is her natural color. It fell and rippled like heavy, expensive satin, I could faintly smell the heat from a styling tool off of them. It did make her bangs frame her forehead prettily.

I’m not even a little bit ashamed to say that is a body I’ll never forget, that will haunt my waking dreams, none I’ve seen in my 158 years walking this Earth, naturally at least. She’s soft, her curves soft, a waist tiny enough to separate top to bottom, a perky overflowing cleavage straining against a tiny camisole beneath a flowing, sheer top with a color that goes too well with her hair and her eyes and brings out the exotic olive of her skin, and a skirt that didn’t try to hide an ass I’d love to see bouncing on my cock. I’m allowed to have these lewd thoughts, they’re my lewd thoughts after all, although my surrogate brother would disagree, it’s a good thing he’s playing junior.

Kira Varady.

Kira, keer-rah

Verra-dee

A name almost as pretty as her, Kira is a Greek name more common in Russia if I can remember, meaning mistress, and Varady is Hungarian. Probably a location name, like most over there.

I crave to know all about her just as much as I crave her body, I crave those porn star lips wrapped around my cock, I crave to fill her up to my balls in all her holes and to feel her soft curves in my harsh hands, and yet…I didn’t crave her blood, not even a little bit, not at all.

She’s talking, oh and her voice does nothing but encourage my passionate lust, I swallowed in a hunger that doesn’t concern bodily fluids..well…

“Hi, I’m Kira. I’m from like an hour away, and my nose ring is real, I’ve been asked so…well anyway, I’m going to sit.” She laughed breathily in a way that would have put Marilyn to shame, and I would know…I’d definitely know about good ol’ Norma Jean.

When she spoke it was like a raspy, gooey goodness. Light and squeaky with a smokiness. Perfect phone voice.

I haven’t been feeling so uncontrollably lustful in so long, she’s so tantalizing, and yet her blood doesn't do it for me. What is she? She isn’t very sweet smelling, she’s not one of us but she isn’t human either.

“Uh, well thank you Kira, for that interesting…introduction, you’ll sit beside Jasper.” Ms. Allen instructed.

“That would be me, Jasper Hale.” I said to her once the maenad sat beside me. It’s the only thing I could describe her as, if I ever met one, maybe they don’t exist, but if they did, I think they’d be intoxicating and wild like her.

My voice was more grizzly than I intended, but it was already hoarse from the constant blood hunger in teenage hell, and now with lust I sound like a chainsmoker from Atlantic City.

The amount of jealousy from all around the room was so strong, I wish I could tell them to just stop feeling, but we all know how that would end. She sat down and her eyes met mine, gold on gold, butterscotch meets harvest-dipped dandelion. It was an intense ritual, ritual is how I would describe it because it felt religious, and it felt like we were definitely performing something. It was like mating through eye contact, it was heated, it was humid, it was hot and sticky and if I could remember what it was like to breathe, I’d have a hard time doing it right now. Her smell, her aroma, my eyes almost rolled back, I wanted to feed on her without bleeding her dry. But I wanted to bleed her dry until there’s nothing but me left in her veins. I don’t want to exist without her anymore. When I leave this classroom I need it to be with her, when she inhales and exhales her next breath it better be of me, I want to occupy her oxygen. I want her to choke if I’m not there, I could feel her. I can really feel her right now, I can feel her unbridled passion and her wild lust. I can feel her life-threatening need for me. I could cry from relief, but blood pouring from my eyes would certainly cause an uproar.

My eyes dared to drop, down to her pouty lips that parted attractively, down to her pulsing throat, down to her smooth, silken, and plump cleavage that was like Italian art. I made a point. I made it obvious to her where I was looking before raising my eyes back to hers, and I watched her watch me lick my lips and spread my legs in my seat. I was so tempted to ask if she’d like a seat.

I now want more than anything to spill the blood of any person who allowed themselves to desire her. She’s mine. The major and I made a unanimous vote on account of her definitely being the one, I feel it. He feels it. She was born for me, made for me, her destiny leads down one road and it leads to me. And I am the same, all I went through all of the right the wrong, and all in between was so I could be guided to her. My purpose.

“I think…wait, what were we talking about?” She asked in a breathless laugh, and I wanted to consume her so badly. I wanted to sink my teeth anywhere I can reach so all will know she is mine.

I laughed a little myself,and her heart raced. “You’re Kira Varady, I’m Jasper Hale, and that is what we were talking about, then I was going to ask to see your schedule.”

She smiled, it was innocent and candied. “You are the only person outside of Hungary who pronounced my last name correctly.”

“I’ve cheated, I’ve visited Budapest once.” In the 1910s briefly.

Her eyes widened and it made me ache. “Wow, I go there once a year…” She trailed off, most people would assume she isn’t a smart girl, with her coquettish voice and featherbrain fox appearance, but she hides so much of herself I can tell. She does it for survival, I’d know. She looked at me again and giggled. “You have an accent, are you from the south?”

“Texas, Galveston specifically.” I smirked. We spoke in hushed tones, like we were sharing secrets…maybe we are. “And-” I slipped her schedule from her desk into my hand as I mentally memorized it. “We have the same schedule.” Or we will after this class, I need to do a little compelling.

I felt emotions of relief and joy ooze from her, like she felt it too like I knew I was her life line. “Thank Goddess, I literally have lost like two tour guides already and it’s not even the second period!”

I watched her in awe like she was living art, and you know what? She sort of was, she really was. John William Waterhouse’s medieval maidens couldn’t compare. “Well you won’t lose me Kira.” I purred her name and felt her shiver. “Where are you from, Budapest?” I teased.

“No, just an hour away in Port Angeles. But I was conceived in Budapest in a commune.”

I rose my brows. My wild beauty was created in wild passion, how fitting, and Eastern European woods are known for supernatural happenings, perhaps the answers lie there.

“Somehow I know the story doesn’t end there.” I was encouraged.

She got that faraway look again. “It doesn’t, I was born in a house on Haight-Ashbury, and ended up back in Transdanubia, but then I somehow found Port Angeles with my Aunt Liz.” She giggled but it didn’t reach her eyes and she shook her head. “I’m really not that interesting.”

“I seriously doubt that.” I didn’t let her look away this time.

She didn’t smile or giggle, she just stared, letting her walls drop just a little bit, I could feel her feel comfort in me, nothing tastes sweeter. “Do you still live in Port Angeles?” I won’t allow her to confess in a room full of strangers.

A warm smile was born on her sultry lips as she looked down. “Yes, in an old Victorian on the edge of town…but,” Her smile ran away again. “I don’t go there anymore.” She said slowly and looked away. “The school there…I don’t.” I felt disgust and horror from her and wanted to burn the entire world to take those feelings away. She laughed and shook her head. “Um wow, I’m sorry I just totally zoned out again didn’t I? I know that’s really annoying.”

“Don’t be silly, you could never annoy me.”

“You sound so sure for someone who just met me.”

“Lets just say, I’m good at reading people.”

We were talking for so long, I didn’t realize for how long until the bell rang. I wasn’t lying about us having the same class next, but I’ll have to do some seriously glamoring to get away with the rest.

We both stood up and I took her books and backpack so she wouldn't carry anything. She smiled so radiantly. “You don’t have to carry my things.”

“Please, I can’t feel a thing, these weigh nothing.”

She giggled. “You do look like you work out.”

I smirked at her, noticing my physique. “Yeah but I’m not a meathead, probably the only Texas boy who didn’t grow up with football. I like to hike.”

Her eyes lit up. “I too, like to delve into…nature…the woods are so…calming.”

Call me crazy, but when she spoke spaced out like that, it was kind of really hot. “We should go together sometime, where’s your locker?”

She shrugged with a careless smile. “I dunno, but I have the number.”

“Well lets find it together.”

We quickly did, and I helped her pack her things in. When she closed her door I leaned against it looking down into her toffee-colored heavenly eyes. “Kira…”

She exhaled breathily, her breasts rose and fell beautifully as she looked up into my eyes. “Jasper…”

“Kira, give me your hand.”

She rose a soft palm, nails painted iridescent dark green and fingers adorn with celestial symbols. Between that and the mention of woods, I’d bet my Kira is a little pagan, or wants to be one. I took a sharpie and wrote my name and cell phone number in her palm.

“That tickles.” She giggled.

She’s so fucking cute. “Do you have a cell?”

She shook her head adorably, I’ll definitely have to get her one. “I read palms you know.”

Oh she’s definitely an interesting little beauty. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe I can read yours sometime?”

I smiled, she flirted very interestingly, made me want more, like giving me little bites. I leaned in, but Alice came over and interrupted. I was torn between guilt and anger.

I growled and then looked apologetic.

“Hey Jazz, can we talk?”

My wild beauty looked very jealous and I was glad she felt claim over me, but I also don't want her to feel like she had to fight for me, she doesn’t. I looked at her tenderly. “I’ll be right back okay? Promise.”

And with that sad look and lying smile from her, I disappeared from her with Alice.

#jasper hale #jasper x oc #jasper hale x oc #twilight #eric yorkie #isabella swan #jasper whitlock

12 notes · View notes

newsiegirlscout · 5 years ago

Text

Curiosity’s Cat

Alright! Merry belated Christmas to this year’s lovely Wordgirl Secret Santa, @hibiscusangel15! The prompt was “Tobecky”, and I hope it’s as sweet a peppermint romance as all can be!

Proofread and edited by a very tired brother who wouldn’t get out of bed this morning and was thus subjected to listening to the live reading of all my fanfiction. Enjoy, and happy holidays!

Soft piano music played from the radio perched on the McCallister coffee table, a well-worn book with pages held by a bookmark emblazoned with a gear design and embellished with ribbon beside it. Claire hummed softly in the kitchen, stirring cinnamon and nutmeg into steaming hot cocoa. In the living room, perched precariously on several dictionaries and a chair on wheels, a young boy stretched on his toes to place the gleaming star on top of the tree....just a few inches, now.....

“Tobey, love, do be careful!” Claire scolded softly, bringing in the silver tea tray to rest on the table. Reluctantly, he brought the star to his side again, only to note the tray’s impedimenta with bafflement.

“Mother, last I checked, there were merely the two of us, yet you’ve prepared three mugs of cocoa here. Who, may I ask, is the third for?” he asked, though the confusion did not inhibit his immediate claim of one of the black-and-white biscuits from the tea tray.

“Sirius, a bit of reason never hurts. Last I checked, Mr. Starsoldier doesn’t quite share your predilection for cocoa, does he?”

The blonde’s face flushed cherry-blossom pink as he quickly pushed his plushie robut companion behind one of the throw pillows with his geometry-socked foot and sipped his steaming cocoa with as much refined dignity as a fourteen-year-old possibly could have, burning his tongue and dotting his nose with butterscotch syrup and whipped cream all within about fifteen seconds of each other. She shouldn’t have, but Claire couldn’t help but giggle.

“His name is Mr. Starslayer, and he--I mean, it!--couldn’t possibly, because his internal circuits aren’t coated, his joints aren’t hydraulic, and hot fluid stains aren’t machine-washable. So, no.”

“Hmmmm...” she said playfully, tapping the candy cane hooked the rim of her mug against it in thought, “Then perhaps it could be for Nova?”

The mechanical cat purred from the hearth and arced her paws towards the warmth from the tray--a clever trick, to be sure, but one that had been programmed in the long wait after midterms before the rest of the class period was over. Nimbly, she lept to the davenport and settled on Claire’s lap in response to the name recognition, settling happily into sleep mode once his mother laid a hand on her back.

“She’s a cat, mother, she’s far too fussy. Now, pray tell, who is arriving so suddenly?”

There was a tap at the window behind the boy as a familiar countenance appeared with a grin.

“Hello, common folk!” chirped none other than Becky Botsford.

###########################################################

The boy’s heart froze in his chest, the dictionaries he was sitting on unfortunately taking that very moment to fall off-kilter, toppling the chair, the volumes, and the lanky but still hopelessly inept Tobey McCallister III.

“I couldn’t resist!” Tobey’s beloathed classmate giggled, giving a thankful curtsy as Mrs. McCallister took her coat, “Thank you so much for having me over--is, is Tobey okay?”

“Peaches and cream, my dear.” grumbled the coffee table, a bruised arm appearing just far enough to retrieve the steampunk mug of cocoa as Becky laughed and stepped over on light feet to the tea tray.

“Ah, make yourself comfortable, love--there are marshmallows in the sugar bowl, cream, and, ah, you can’t have seen Chez McCallister until you have one of these biscuits--Tobey and I made just about all of these, he absolutely insisted only perfection.” the woman said, beaming with a perfect knowledge of how much the comment would embarrass her son.

“Thank you! And these are positively ambrosial....why, Tobey, I’d save some for you, but I’m afraid these rose spritz ice cream cookies are going to melt...” she retorted playfully as the boy genius finally sighed and sat up opposite her on the rug.

“Well, then, Miss Becky Botsford, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he said, nabbing one of the aforementioned sweets.

“Tobey,” his mother cut in with a soft glare, “Your friend here has found herself with an excess of activity and few places to carry out such.”

“But your brother made the cut, I presume?”

“He’s at his friend’s house.” she said, smile unfaultering, “My parents needed time to wrap and hide Christmas presents for our treasure hunt tomorrow, and we usually go to the Heaslip’s together, but the most coincidental thing is, as soon as Violet found out that you were mostly by yourself for Christmas Eve too, she caught a cold! A really super-contagious one! That Johnson, thankfully, hasn’t caught yet and isn’t transferable to either the homemade cookies or fluffy unicorn mittens she gave me. That’s funny, huh?”

“As ignominious it is that your mate has clearly thrown you for a foxglove, I suppose I could appreciate the company.” he said softly.

“Perfect!” she said, resting her cocoa on the table, “It took me a little while--an “absolutely last minute” sort of little while, but I brought some ideas for games that I think everyone here will enjoy and are entirely compatible with the unconventional three players, and of course I’d always listen to any of your ideas!”

Claire McCallister rested her empty mug on the coffee table and stood up wearily, buttoning her jacket and snagging her briefcase from the door.

“Ah, these shall have to be two-players, I’m afraid.” she said, ruffling her son’s hair and stepping to the door, “It’s rather last-minute, but some people really can’t keep themselves out of trouble on Christmas Eve, and the office called. Absolutely no stealing snogs while I’m gone, you both hear?”

The scarlet mess of what had once been Tobey McCallister stuttered as the door fell shut and his classmate merely looked over the book’s description from the coffee table.

“Awww, hey, is this The Wild Robot? I think TJ was reading that a little while ago...”

“And what of it, Botsford?” he said, sipping his cocoa.

She looked up with soft sparkling brown eyes and giggled. Not that Tobey cared, that is. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed! It’s always the story that really matters, anyhow. Speaking of which.....” she said, shaking her bookbag.

“Ah, yes, the games!” he said with a poorly disguised lilt of enthusiasm, “What is it, now, Ticket to Ride? Scrabble? Mouse Trap? It’s only sporting to warn you, though, ‘tis an honor fine to lose to a McCallister!”

She cuffed him on the shoulder playfully, laying out game sets on the table one by one, none of which were recognizable, or, for that matter, branded.

“Prepare to eat crow, my good sir, for ‘tis an honor perhaps finer to lose to a Botsford!” she retorted in perfect Elizabethan English and with a loose imitation of her friend’s accent to boot. “This one, I thought would be a fun one to start with--I mean, if you’d like? I made it ages ago, but I’ve never had a proper opponent. It’s called Curiosity’s Cat, and it goes like this....”

*****************************************************************************************

The game should not have been nearly as fun as it was, the two had to admit, once the puzzles were solved, the cards shuffled, the case finished, and, of course, the laurels of candy wreaths and good cheer bestowed.

“Now, I have to wonder,” Tobey mused, his wreath perched rather like a flower crown, “Did you make these yourself as well, Miss Botsford? They are absolutely resplendent.” His delighted gentle grin could warm even Rhyme’s frozen heart--not that our now-speechless heroine noticed or cared in the slightest of course.

After a flustered few seconds (”What’s the matter?”, Tobey teased, “Curiosity’s Cat got your tongue?”), Becky’s nerves defrosted enough to respond, “Yes, but satisfaction brought it back.”

“Ah, shame, I was hoping I’d finally found the compliment to silence a rather loquacious blatherskite.”

“That simply wouldn’t do, Mr. McCallister, you’d have to talk only half as much as usual to fill the room with two people’s worth of conversation. To answer your question, yes, actually, I did!”

“In a last-minute’s sort of little while, I presume?” he hummed, turning it over, “Ooh, are these candied hibiscus really edible? I haven’t had the sort of thing since Bristol!”

“You’ve never been to Bristol.” she said flatly.

“Exactly.” he said, pulling one of them off the tightly-woven bands and letting the light saccharine taste dissolve on his tongue, “So it only serves I’d miss them all the more. And I must say, my dear, these are absolutely ambrosial--that is to say, heavenly, scrumptious, and practically perfect in every way.”

He laughed softly, tapping her on the shoulder and leading her to the kitchens, “So it’s only fair that deserves at least a cup of tea, wouldn’t you say? Best vanilla-jasmine blend you’ll find here or anywhere, a la McCallister.”

“Tea? I call a perfidy.” she responded, starting a round of a silly and longer-running game of wits between the two as the kettle began to heat and the boy started to look through a variety of spices and blends in the cabinet.

“You speak with intellectuali-tea, though it’s surely with a malady.”

“That’s with respectibili-tea, though only in a rhapso-tea.”

“Well, that, love, is a tragi-tea, for our anfractuosi-tea.”

“To that we have a reme-tea.”

“And so ends”, he said, pressing a hot cup of fragrant tea into her hands, “Our proso-tea.”

At last, the door opened and the very exasperated Mrs. McCallister hung up her coat. “Hello again, my darlings--ah, that tea is for me, I presume?” she said, playfully giving an attempt at lifting Becky’s teacup to which the girl giggled and gently tugged hers back.

“Mother, Becky doesn’t have to go so soon, does she?” the boy protested, noting the extra car outside as she poured herself a cup with cream and sugar.

“Ah, I don’t suppose you accidentally enjoyed yourself, did you? Don’t worry, your friend will be over again soon enough.”

The girl curtsied as she packed her bags again and set her teacup in the sink. “Thank you for having me--I accidentally had fun, too. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you as well, Becky Botsford.” he said as he walked her to the door, stopping short just a few centimeters from the step as she tapped his shoulder and looked up to the top of the doorframe.

“Technically, your mother is here now...” she whispered at a pitch a mouse would need to be quiet to hear.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

And, bouncing lightly to the tip of her toes, she silenced him with a kiss on the cheek.

#tobecky #wordgirl #becky botsford #tobey mccallister iii #claire mccallister #theodore tobias mccallister iii #mwah!#wordgirl secret santa 2019 #secret commentary let's go #first off: appreciate tea puns #based off real banter #two: violet and johnson are siblings #three: tobey was ACTUALLY BRITISH #BRITISH BLOOD BORN IN AMERICA THE ENTIRE TIME #MWAH HA HA #I also hope it's okay I borrowed Nova--Hibiscus's awesome cat!#whoooo!!!#merry christmas hibiscus!#thanks for all and I hope you love it!

45 notes · View notes

kayliemusing · 4 years ago

Text

40: ice cream themed

french vanilla— what’s something you want to tell your followers? - love you!

chocolate— what song is stuck in your head right now? - Visitor by Of Monsters and Men

cotton candy— do you prefer savory or sweet food more? - Sweet

strawberry— do you know how to dance? if so, what’s your go-to dance move? - I don't know how to dance rip

cookies & cream— what’s one thing you would say to an ex? whether it be an ex partner, ex friend, or ex boss is up to you. - I think simply, I wish you understood me more

pistachio— which do you prefer: breakfast, lunch, or dinner? - Breakfast is always my favourite

mint chocolate chip— what’s your favorite thing in your closet right now? - I really love my turtle neck sweaters because they make me feel classy and well-dressed.

cookie dough— do you prefer jewel tones or earth tones? (so, do you like cool toned colors more or warm, earthy colors more) - I think cool tones but I like some earthy ones too. More so I'm super into neutrals like creams, greys, whites, tans, etc.

coffee— how do you like your coffee made? and what’s your go-to order at a coffee place? - I don't like coffee blah! It's always a hot chocolate for me wherever I go because I'm ten I guess

buttered pecan— what does your last text message say? - my sister was telling me an awkward/funny moment that happened at our cousin's place where said-cousin's boyfriend made a comment about 'calling up our dad' to help them paint their house bc he didn't realize our dad is dead lmao. Awkward for him, funny for us.

mango sherbet— do you prefer to watch sunsets or sunrises? - Sunrises. I do love sunsets too, especially a little after sunset like that dusky time, but I just love the early morning when the air is fresh and the sky goes peachy.

neapolitan— do you have a favorite scent? scents that you like in perfume, in candles, and in general? - I have a list: I love the smell of harvest, my fav candle from bath and body works Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin, and I also really like jasmine and the smell of fresh rain (bonus points if it's in a woodsy area and you can smell wet pine). Honorable mention: Vanilla, but I don't ~always~ like vanilla smells so more specifically when you're baking and you get a whiff of that good ol vanilla extract.

green tea— do you have any pets? if so, what kinds do you have and what are their names? - I have a Blue Point Siamese Ragdoll named Misty and then I have a very chonky Seal Point Siamese named Archer both of whom are the loves of my life.

coconut pineapple— do you have any nicknames? and, is there anything you’d want to change your name to? - Some girls that I work with call me Kayls and my aunt still calls me KayRae but other than that, I don't really have a nickname. And I do wish I could change my name, simply because I feel like my name doesn't sound professional enough, nor does my last name. I always think in the context of the fact that I hope to sell my own novels one day and the idea of the name 'Kaylie' on the cover throws me off-- I feel like it sounds like an eleven year old kid but I don't really vibe with a pen name either.

salted caramel— what color and shade would you describe your eyes? - I usually just tell people they're grey. They do go pretty blue in the sunlight but for the most part they're grey.

cherry— would you rather be gifted roses or baked goods on a special day? - Baked goods would be so nice!! Especially if they were my favourites. I feel like both ideas are thoughtful, but I feel like baking someone something really shows initiative and considerations so I'd like that.

peach— have you ever gone camping? if so, do you like going camping? - Tbh I hate camping lol. I get so bored or homesick or both. To be fair I haven't travelled anywhere that I've desperately wanted to go so I've never had that feeling of 'wanting to stay' or loving where I am so maybe that's why. And the last time I went 'traditionally' camping, in a tent, I was about 4 or 5 so I don't remember much but I'm definitely not into the idea of a tent anymore lol

peppermint— what song lyric describes your love life right now? - 'happy free confused and lonely at the same time' 22 by Taylor Swift. (tbh the only lyric that came to mind about being single rip)

chocolate fudge— would you prefer a stargazing date or a picnic date? - Stargazing!!!! Then we could both have existential crisis' at the same time!!

#survey

0 notes

egoiistas · 7 years ago

Text

Midnight Treat

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @wrongnote!!! omg i love you so much! I hope you have a good day. even if you’re a heathen/sinammon roll. sory I couldnt get you a glove-wearing magician CEO, but I figured some fluffy Edwin would work just as well <3

Rating: K+ (maybe T for some bad dreams?) Mostly fluff, sprinkly of angst (like you like)|| Words ~1300

Stirring from his sleep, Edward opened his eyes. He picked at the covers over him; groaning when he realized he dampened his sheets again in cold sweat. Red sparks of electricity edged the darker corners of his mind and images of eerie grins kept haunting him in the dark. His palm met his forehead as he sat up, shaking his head from another night of not sleeping. If he was honest, it was getting annoying. Years after everything, his brain still wanted him to relive all of that and he was just getting tired of it.

The room was dark, but the air was warm and not warm in the dry heat of a heater; it was a comforting one with rich, sweet smells that somehow whetted his appetite and prompted his stomach to grumble. There was a light shining through the crack underneath his door. Well aware that Pinako slept like a rock, he was curious if Winry was up and about working on some of her projects. He didn’t think she had one important enough to warrant an all nighter, but knowing her, she’d find any excuse to hyper focus on a project.

He threw the sheets off him and the floor was pleasantly cool when he padded over them. The door creaked and he heard the rattling activity from the kitchen downstairs.

The air grew warmer and the richness morphed into saccharine notes of vanilla, caramelization, and a medley of fruits. The kitchen opened up and he squinted from the sudden onslaught of sight. “Winry?” Ed croaked. “What are you doing up?”

She whirled around. “Ed,” she said, strangely unsurprised. There were several bowls and a lot of flour all over the counters including the rolling pin on in the sink. “I should be asking you that.”

“Bad dream,” he answered curtly as he entered.

Winry hummed, “You’ve been getting a lot of those, haven’t you?”

“Not really.”

She stared right through him.

He fidgeted. “Okay, maybe. But they’ll pass.”

Her eyes narrowed and it was only then that he noticed the line of pies behind her.

Ed scrunched his brow in curiosity, leaning sideways to peer behind her. ��Are those…?”

She perked, “Pies? Yes! I just made them.”

Ed looked to the grandfather clock outside in the hallway, “Win, it’s 2:00 am.”

“I don’t care if it’s 2:00 am, we need a pie.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got more than--”

One by one she placed the pies on the island counter. In a sing-song voice, she said “I’ve got... blueberry -- cherry -- and pecan.” Balled fists rested at her hips as she marvelled at her creations

“I’m surprised you didn’t make apple pie.” But moreso surprised she had the rest of the pie recipes in her repertoire.

Winry glanced up. The silence quickly became grave, seeing the errors of his ways. He wouldn’t put it past her to keep a hefty, open ended wrench in the kitchen. Instead she smiled sweetly and he returned it without even thinking about it. “It’s cooling off on the sill.”

He was so distracted by her smorgasbord of pies, and grogginess from his sleep -- or lack thereof, that he didn’t even notice it.

She reeled his attention back, “Which would you like to try first?” A silver spoon was held up right in front of him.

“You mean, just dig in right here? What happened to “slice it or die?”

She laughed, and dimples appeared on her cheeks. He liked her dimples. “No, Ed. Just... dig in.”

“Which are they again?”

“Blueberry, cherry, and pecan.” She walked to the open window to gather her remaining pie, placing it neatly next in line on the row. “And now apple.”

Unconsciously licking his lips, he aimed the edge of his spoon on the crystallized crust of the apple pie. “How did you make it so shiny?”

“It’s just brown sugar, Ed.”

He was in awe, marvelling at the perfect curvature of the pie’s crust. But he quickly gathered the expectation that she was waiting for him to try it. He dipped the spoon into the crust and it gave in easily. Small pockets of steam rose up from the filling and he could smell the caramelized apples she must’ve taken her time with, especially to make the pie after pie. He brought the spoon to his mouth and he felt like she had whacked him with a wrench after all. At once, the flavors of apples and cinnamon swirled warmly in his mouth. The crust, which was his least favorite, was so sweet and flaky and, somehow, those spices just melded together in some kind of synchrony he wasn’t privy to. Mouth half-full, he widened his eyes and slammed the edge of the spoon’s stem on the counter. “Winry! This is-” Ed spooned another piece into his mouth. It melted in his mouth just the same as the first bite and he sank onto the counter like dish of butter left out in the sun.

He stood up straight when he swallowed and looked at her. Clearing his throat, he told her, “Winry, these are amazing.”

“You should see the look on your face,” she laughed. Winry leaned on the counter, holding her chin in one hand. “It’s priceless.”

“It’s not my fault you tricked me with pie,” Ed grumbled.

“Tricked you?!”

“Calm down… it’s not that bad of a thing.”

“Then why’d you go and say it like that?” Winry pouted her lip.

“You caught me off-guard, that’s all.” Smirking, he groaned with another bite.

“Oh.” She pivoted in a way that her hair served as a curtain, blocking her face. “Don’t you want to try the rest?”

Ed looked at them as he chewed. The desserts were picturesque, like something photographed out of those magazines with unrealistic sceneries of the “country home” he always saw at the train station. Or used to. Somehow Winry made it happen in the dead of night for whatever reason, but something bothered him about it. “You’re not going to try it too?”

Winry looked at him from the corner of her eyes and then shook her head, “It’s always better seeing others enjoy your cooking.”

“Then why make four entire pies?”

She stared softly at him this time, grabbing the dishtowel next to her elbow. At the side of his mouth, she gingerly wiped the crumbs that must’ve stuck there. “I knew you were having trouble sleeping. I could hear you get up and pace from my workshop.”

His mouth hung a little, feeling like an idiot for making her worry. “Winry…”

“I thought -- oh, I don't know,” she shrugged, hugging her arms, “maybe this would help. I know you’ve had to rework how you do things without alchemy. Maybe even struggle with it--”

“Winry.”

“--and that you and Al are thinking about leaving soon. And I mean, I can’t stop you but --”

“Win!”

“-- I know that I’d miss you very much. Well, not just you, both of you.. Oh, good grief. And...”

He had stopped her mid sentence, from her rambling, before she said something that would make them both as red as cherry pie filling. Ed had pulled her arms towards him, into a hug while she was looking at every corner of the kitchen but him. He tucked her head into his shoulder and held her close. “Thank you.”

Her shoulders slumped and she hugged him back, “You’re welcome, dummy.”

Afterwards, he helped Winry clear the kitchen before they both retreated back to bed -- more content than he’d admit and with his fill of decadent pie. Ed slept until the mid morning sun spilled through the balcony window. To his luck, it was early enough to admire how sunlight favored Winry as she slept next to him, unaware of how effective she was at getting him through the night.

#edwin #fma #fma fanfiction #edward elric #winry rockbell #fluffly~#*shine

51 notes · View notes

tacovolution · 8 years ago

Text

In South Africa, we’re fortunate to have fantastic fine-dinning restaurants – restaurants that are innovative and keep us enthralled. One such restaurant is the Restaurant Mosaic at The Orient, in Pretoria. From Pretoria it’s about a 30 minute drive and an hour drive from Joburg. But it’s well worth it, especially as you arrive at the gates of the Orient Hotel.

The Restaurant Mosaic is run by head chef Chantel Dartnall. And if you’re in the restaurant, eating lunch or dinner, you’re bound to bump into her.

My boyfriend and I decided it was best to stay over for the night, than to drive home on dark roads after a few glasses of wine. Better safe than sorry!

Upon entering a security guard escorts you to a parking bay. He already knows that you’re a guest of the hotel and not a day visitor.

As you walk through the massive front doors, Zele is waiting for you. And you’re immediately taken to your room, where you’re handed a refreshing drink of pomegranate .

As it was our anniversary, a bottle of Pol Roger Rose 2004 was waiting for us in the room. Bottle popped and we were well settled in to our gorgeous Udaipur themed room.

After a while we got a bit hungry and asked for a light snack. We thought we’d get sandwiches or something similar. But no, Chantel had made a delicious and beautiful salmon salad. It was light, refreshing, crunchy, sweet and has a bit of bitterness. An excellent prelude to the main event.

Salmon and cream cheese salad

When dinner finally arrived, we made our way to the restaurant and were seated at a cosy booth. It was difficult to notice the people around us, with the way the restaurant was designed. Immediately I noticed champagne glasses. I didn’t order any champagne for dinner as I knew we’d still be feeling the effects of the Pol Roger. But as we were celebrating an important event the Restaurant provided glasses to start off the evening.

With our glasses charged a bread cart followed, stocked with a variety of bread. And the waiter insisted that you try more than one.

Jasmine and Lemongrass butter

Cinnamon butter, salter butter, and a fish paste

Then Chef Chantel popped by to take you through the menu and different wine pairings and help you decide between the 5 course and 9 course meal. We went with the 9 course menu and the enthusiast wine pairing. How could you not?

Still part of a bread, we were presented with a amuse bouche. It was delicious.And an inviting start to the evening.

Dark chocolate, macaroons, and cheddar cheese

And then the “prelude” continued. First was frogs legs served on a bed of mushroom jelly. I must admit, in all my travels I never ate frogs legs before and I did not prepare myself for it. But as the true foodie I am, I was not going to let the opportunity pass me by. Frogs legs taste like chicken and in this case it was a tasty fried chicken legs. The mushroom jelly added an earthy taste. It was delicious. The frogs legs were served with a Graham Beck Brut (2012) and it paired well. Nothing felt out of place.

Once the appetizing prelude concluded, the first course was served: a foie gras mousse in a light muscadel jelly with finely sliced muscat grapes. It was served with truffle brioche. It was gorgeous. The foie gras was rich and creamy, the grapes added freshness and the brioche added an earthy flavor. It was, without a doubt, the best foie gras dish I’ve had in the country. And it was paired with my favourite South African Gewurztraminer: the Paul Cluver 2014. The pairing was perfect as the wine added a freshness to the earthy dish.

The second course was the Celebration on Spring. A well-thought out garden salad. It was fresh and light. Everything you would want from a vegetable salad and although it looked beautiful, the flavours complimented each other well. And so did the Alvi’s Drift Albertus Viljoen Chenin Blanc (2012), that was fruity and creamy.

I got excited and forgot to take a photo when the dish arrived.

The third course was Genesis. Genesis was rainbow trout with a miso mousse and Pomelo. This dish was also tasty and had a subtle fish flavour. The miso had flavour and spiciness. And the Pomelo really did pop. Genesis was a beautifully designed dish but the only problem was that it was paired with the Iona Chardonnay (2014). The wine was still young and clashed with the spiciness of the miso.

The fourth course was the course I’ve seen everyone love: Mousse de Mer. And understandable so. The langoustine was cooked perfectly and the tomato froth was light and fluffy and infused with rooibos. And hidden beneath was delicious risotto which added meatiness to the dish. The seashell mousse had an intense tomato flavour. The tomato salt (the sand) added more intense tomato flavoring, so it was best to have as little as possible of this. The dish also contained seaweed which added more salty flavour sauce. Overall, it was an amazingly well-thought out and prepared dish. The flavours complimented the langoustine well and is a dish that has plenty of depth. It paired well with Hartenberg Weisser Riesling (2008), which was slightly acidic and very fruity.

The fifth course was, honestly, the course that caught my attention: Millionaire Nest Egg. A quail egg with black truffle paste, on a bed of truffle infused mushrooms. It was a gorgeous, subtle dish that was earthy and the yolk pierced through adding some sunshine. The earthy dish was paired with the Lismore Viognier 2011 (another favourite) that provided an acidity and freshness to the dish was the hints of peaches and apricots.

Finally the starters were done and a palate cleanser was brought to the table: The Garden Pea. The palate cleanser consisted of a matcha and lime with a pea puree. It was a refreshing palate cleanser and fitted in well with the menu. And the peas were from the garden, adding to the ambiance of the hotel.

And with that we were halfway, although quite stuffed, and onto the main course. For mains, we had the option of 3 courses: Bouillabaisse (Kabeljou), Prints in the Paddock (Beef), and Birds of a feather (Quail).

I love quail, so there was no way that I was going to say no to the Birds of a feather. The dish consisted of King Quail that was glazed with raw honey and Balsamic vinegar. Top that off with saffron scented petite tortellini that is stuffed with slow braised Goose and Capon meat and you’ve got a mouth-watering dish. Add to this sweet onions in a red wine sauce. The dish was sweet, slight acidic, and rich. I loved every bite. The birdy (that’s now a word) was paired with the Mont Destin Pasionne (2009). With the heavy dish, the wine added creaminess and further richness.

Lee had the Prints in a Paddock for mains, which consisted of a 36 days matured Angus beef with sumac and a red ivory fruit preserve.The red ivory fruit is from the Red Ivory tree that can be found all over the Francolin Conservancy. Another element from the surrounding areas. The beef was perfectly cooked to medium rate, and the fruits added sweetness. The sumac spices added a hint of tartness to balance out the sweetness. This well-designed dish was paired with the Nederburg Petit Verdot (2001), which added richness and a spiciness to the dish.

With out stomach’s bursting, we moved onto dessert. First up was a cheese selection that was paired with Quinta de crosta port. There’s every variety of cheese available but the highlighted choices were the Epoises de Bourgogne, Belnori Phantom Forest, and Dolcelatte Gorgonzola. Most of the cheese paired well with the port, but as I’m not a fan of port of depth and flavours of the port were wasted on me.

Next for dessert was the Chocolate Cherry. This dessert had a large cherry filled with chocolate on the plate and was surrounded with cherry infused elements. Again, a fantastic mixture of sweetness, sourness and crunch. And it was delightfully light. The dessert was paired with Chateau Septy Monbazillac (2009), which with its fruity bouquet, complimented the cherry and chocolate.

Finally, we were on the Mamelon de Venus. A delicious, light and cruchy choux pastry that was surrounded by Jasmine. It was definitely a Spring dessert: floral and light. And the bright colours of the strawberry and jasmine made it inviting. It was a scrumptious dessert and one that I would travel all the way back to the Restaurant Mosaic for.

AND after all that food there was more: Petits Fours. They were too gorgeous to ignore and we may have finished most of it.

After stuffing ourselves, we made our way up to our room. A steep affair if you’ve drunk all the wine pairings.

Come the Sunday morning and we were still stuffed, but I couldn’t miss an opportunity to see what breakfast would entail. And breakfast was superb. After being seated, a slightly warm herbal, ginger and lemongrass tea was placed in front of you. It was a delicious tea at the right temperature on the warm morning. A pastry tier was also placed on the table.

Herbal tea with ginger and lemongrass.

Fruit smoothie.

Green tee

Pastry tier

But that’s not all, a quartet of intriguing dishes were placed in front of us: tropical fruit salad, oats with vanilla and star anise, fig with goats cheese and a herb vinaigrette, and a coconut pannacotta with granadilla jelly. A flavourful start to the day.

After this, our warm breakfast of salmon with scrambles eggs and hollandaise sauce was served. Another well-executed dish.

It’s difficult to find fault with the Restaurant Mosaic or the The Orient. Every detail is thought of and as a guest, of the hotel or the restaurant, you are well taken care of. The service is impeccable. I was a great weekend away. And when the menu changes, I’d love to be back again.

A goodbye gift from the restaurant.

I give Restaurant Mosaic 5 cupcakes. I can forgive the unfortunate pairing with the Iona.

Review guide:

No rating (read: why have you even bothered to open)

Poor (read: shit)

Average (read: meh)

Good (read: above mediocrity)

Very Good (read: fling your money at them. It’s worth it)

Extraordinary (read: if you have to make a sacrifice to be here, do it)

Restaurant Mosiac at the Orient In South Africa, we're fortunate to have fantastic fine-dinning restaurants - restaurants that are innovative and keep us enthralled.

#Blog #Blogger #Chantel Dartnall #Eat Out Top 10 Restaurants #Elandsfontein #Fine dining #Food #Food blog #Food blogger #Food Review #Moorish #Pretoria #Restaurant Mosaic #Restaurant Mosaic at The Orient #Review #The Orient #Top 10

0 notes