#me: technically that was admin grease but that one is doing fine

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Mom was a sociology student/teacher of course.

One of the best if I am being honest.

Moving that part of mother into a daughter is frightening....and beautiful

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Like Butter

Come one, come all to Admin T’s Birthday Extravaganza!  (which, subsequently, is the tag you can use to search for all of the stories)

Welcome to day six. Almost there! This week long party continues has been graced by Masamune! As stated in the update post earlier, linked here, I will have a short uploaded every day leading up to my birthday. So feel free to check out who’s next.

*Casual side note about this one. You have no idea how I agonized over the creation of vanilla extract...and how to substitute baking powder/soda, yikes folks, finally figured out a way around it though!*

Thanks for stopping in, I hope you enjoy the read! All of my other Ikésen works can be found on my Master List, feel free to drop by anytime. My door’s always open.

A super big shout out and thank you to @naiyabladesinger​ for all the beta work done on these! Fixing my run on sentences is a monster task!

Also tagging @little-mini-me-world​.

Not to keep you waiting!

Like Butter - Masamune

You spent two hours explaining the ingredients for a cake you were familiar with to Masamune. Taking extra care to be describe their texture and taste to help him find the Sengoku alternative. You sent Masamune off with a list, trusting him on his own, but you were starting to get worried. He had been gone for almost half the day and you were starting to wish you had gone with him. Instead you stood in the kitchen near this time period’s equivalent of an oven, stoking the fire, making sure it didn’t go out. You weren’t sure what 350 degrees Fahrenheit looked like but, you were confident you could eyeball it.

Masamune all but crashed into the kitchen moments later.

“Alright lass, I hope this is everything, because I don’t think they’ll let me back there for a while.”

“Why? What happened? Are you okay?” I rushed over to help him with the baskets of ingredients

“Of course I’m fine, I just cleared out all of the European stock...you said this stuff is commonplace in your time?”

“Yup~” you answered musically as you got several different sized ceramic bowls out.

“Alright then Kitten, let’s do this.” He said as he clapped his hands together.

Masamune cracked six large eggs into a bowl and started mixing them together with the yuzu juice. You eyeballed about three cups of sugar and flour, two tablespoons of salt, and zest from two yuzu into another. Butter sat in a third, larger bowl, softening, as milk boiled in a ceramic container on the fire.

You moved the dry ingredients into the larger bowl with the butter and began to mix them together with a paddle, gently stirring them together until it was well blended. Masamune busied himself with a whisk while you gradually added the wet ingredients into the bowl. Once everything was mixed together you gradually added the warm milk, slowly though, so you didn’t accidentally cook the eggs in the batter.

Taking the rectangular metal bread pan from the basket of goods Masamune had bought at the market, you greased it with some butter and poured the mixed batter into it.

“Hey Masa, wanna taste?” he looked at you, lifting an eyebrow in confusion.

“I didn’t think we could eat it as a liquid?” both a comment and a questions all at once.

“Technically you’re not supposed to. Raw eggs can be bad for you. When I was younger, the best part of making a birthday cake with my dad was when I got to lick the batter off the spoon or whisk. It was like a preview of what was to come!” you held the spoon out to him. He had been unnaturally quiet throughout the entire process. Taking notes here and there, watching the process intently so he could recreate it on his own later.

He took the wooden spoon from you and cleaned the batter off the front side before handing it back to you.

“The cake’s for your birthday, it would be bad form if I took away the best part.” he smiled one of his brightest smiles as you made quick work of the rest of the batter.

“That was pretty good, just the right amount of sourness.”

“I agree.” You smiled at him as you made your way toward the oven. “I was a bit nervous about using yuzu instead of lemons.”

“Care if I take another taste?” His single blue eye twinkled with mischief as he slowly walked closer to you.

---

The hardest thing to find had been the butter, and even then it had been a ‘made to order’ sort of situation. There was only one trader that Nobunaga knew of that specialized in dairy products. Since they weren’t that popular here, I had used up every drop of the poor guy's cream supply. Then, I had to sit with this cream in a seal-able jar and shake the thing for what felt like a lifetime, switching with Nobunaga every so often, until the contents felt more solid than liquid. As if the shaking wasn’t enough, we still had to pour out all of the contents through a ‘colander’ (is what you had called it)...to make sure we only got the butter.

Despite all of that, every bit of today’s shopping trip had been worth it when I saw you smile. Happily mixing the ingredients together while you hummed a simple unfamiliar tune. It was captivating and I found myself wishing you would come cook with me more often.

My daydream was interrupted when the wooden spoon coated in cake batter was held out under my nose. “Hey Masa, wanna taste?” Interesting, I was certain this dessert had to be cooked before we could eat it.

“I didn’t think we could eat it as a liquid?” I questioned, growing more curious about it with every passing minute.

Taking time to describe the dangers of eating raw eggs before they divulged a childhood memory of baking cakes with their father as I took the spoon. I could imagine them, much younger than they are now, impatiently bouncing around the kitchen waiting for a taste of the batter. I sat and listened intently as I licked clean one side of the wooden spoon I was given. I can’t very well sit here and listen to them tell me this was ‘their favorite part’ and not leave some for them on their birthday.

The sharp acidic flavor of the yuzu stuck out but wasn’t overwhelming, it settled into the sweetness of the sugar and was cut rather well in all of the butter. I complimented the recipe before they walked over and placed the pan in the oven.

As they turned to look at me I noticed the tiniest bit of batter had made a home for itself on their cheek. “Care if I take another taste?” The looked over their shoulder at me confused. Trying to figure out where I could be going with this. Stepping forward I took them into my arms and licked the drop of their face. Their eyes went wide before they smiled leaning up on the balls of their feet to give me a kiss.

“Sorry, I couldn’t let you take the last of it for yourself. Hope you didn’t mind sharing”

“Not if that’s how we’re gonna share Lass.”

---

It was the hardest lemon pound cake you had ever worked for, and it technically wasn’t even a true lemon cake. Though it’s not like they had lemons in the Sengoku, Yuzu was close enough, so you know...when in Rome I guess. Between constantly stroking the fire to keep the heat even and vigorously mixing the leftover cream with the cooked down sugar to get an even whipped icing you were just beat.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had baked this hard, and you would forever be grateful to every single cook and confectioner of this time period, along with all of the cushy modern assistance you had been granted up until today.

The entire kitchen was perfumed with the scent of the Yuzu cake about twenty minutes into the baking process but had clearly wafted throughout Masamune’s manor as the day went on. Every so often a different retainer of Masa’s would swing by, drawn in by the scent of the cake. Being around it all afternoon, you had grown accustomed to the pleasant aroma but the moment it came off the fire and was sitting right in front of you, your stomach made a fool of you, growling audibly through the kitchen.

Masamune howled next to you before his own stomach talked back, leaving the two of you clinging to one another as you doubled over in laughter.

---

It had taken a great deal of patience but somehow you had made a birthday cake. You sat at one large table in the main hall with everyone passing out slices, happy to share with your friends. Everyone’s faces lit up as they dug in, enjoying the new texture of the foreign dessert.

“This is great lass, you gonna make one every year?” you favorite one-eyed stud asked. Before you could respond Nobunaga jumped in to answer for you.

“Of course they will...I’d also like to see it at each of our birthdays as well. Provided we can get the ingredients?” he looked over at you, daring you to argue. You let out a breath and smiled up at everyone.

“Sounds good to me. But Masamune has to help” you wiggled your eyebrows at him and he pounced, collecting you in his arms, leaning in to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“Of course I’ll help Kitten, you can’t be the only one to have all the fun!”

“Oh take it somewhere else before I choke on my cake.” Ieyasu grumbled as Mitsunari cooed beside him.

“Fine by me.” and he whisked you off your feet, cradling you in his arms, as he raced back to his manor. “Let’s go see if you’re as sweet as that cake.”