Sugar, Spice, and... Twilight probably shouldn't cook anymore.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to cook, Twilight? You know I could make the two of you a mean hay stew!”
“Oh, Spike,” Twilight said. “I think I can handle one meal. Anyway, it says right here,” she pointed to Dating for Dummies, “that cooking a meal for your loved one is a sweet and romantic gesture.”
“Alright,” he said, raising his eyebrow. He pulled a large cookbook out of the drawer and set it on the table with a solid thud. “Just follow the recipes to the letter and you should be fine.” His eyes locked on her own. “Need I remind you that you do not have a cooking cutie mark?”
Twilight furrowed her brow. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
Spike sighed and ran his claws over his face. “Remember that one time you tried to cook carrots and apples together into one dish?”
“What? It was a valid hypothesis! If I like two separate dishes, it stands to reason that I should like them both together.”
He sighed again. “Ugh. We had to eat the leftovers for a full week.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “It’ll be fine, Mr. Food Critic.” She paused. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be off to Rarity’s? I thought you were helping her out.”
“Oh, shoot! You’re right,” Spike said, racing out the door. The door slammed behind him.
Even through the tree’s thick layer of bark, Twilight could hear him cry, “I’m coming, Rarity!”
She had to chuckle at her adopted brother. His dedication to Rarity was cute, but he needed to learn a bit of subtlety.
Now that she had the library to herself, it was time to start cooking. She had roughly two hours to make a meal before her date arrived. She’d have to lay out some sort of meal plan and then stick to it.
Let’s see… The cookbook hovered over to the counter and opened itself. I need an appetizer, a main course, beverages, and a dessert to top it off. She tapped her hoof against her chin. I could make a salad as an appetizer. That’s simple enough, and I know I just bought plenty of lettuce. Mentally, she checked ‘appetizer’ off her list.
What about beverages? Twilight opened her cabinet. On the top shelf, there was a yellow bag of sugar right next to Spike’s lemonade mix. On the bottom sat a canister of coffee, with non-dairy creamer next to it.
No tea, huh? I’ll have to add that to the shopping list, I suppose. For now, I guess serving coffee wouldn’t do too much harm. The sun hasn’t even set yet.
‘Beverages’ was scratched off the list.
She turned back to the cookbook. Now, what about the main course?
Twilight tapped her hoof against her chin. The main course needed to be something special. Something fancy. Hm…
Then again, it couldn’t be too fancy. Even though Princess Celestia gave her a generous stipend, she still couldn’t afford to pay hundreds of bits for a meal. More importantly, it had to be within her ability to cook. Thus far, her most impressive culinary exploit had been microwaving a can of soup.
She flipped through the pages, past appetizers, past foreign-sounding dishes, and past entrees with ingredients she didn’t have. She frowned. There was not a single recipe for a main course that was within her time, budget, or culinary constraints. Still, there was one section she hadn’t searched yet. Stews. Yeah, that’s kind of like making soup. I can do that!
There were a dozen different entries. Apparently this part had been written by the griffon co-author, because all but three of the recipes included meat. Ugh. I can’t serve her meat. That’d just be wrong.
Twilight tapped her hoof against the counter as she pondered which recipe she should use. The first was a vegetarian stew, using most of the same veggies that were in the salad. For the sake of variety, she decided to pass on that one. That left two choices: mushroom stew or lentil stew. Hm. I did want to try lentil soup anyway. It’s a delicacy in places like Saddle Arabia, so it must be good.
That decided, Twilight moved on to dessert. A full third of the cookbook was dedicated to sweets and goodies of all kinds. There were brownies, cakes, cookies, chocolates, candies, and more. Her head spun from all her choices. Where should I start? Cakes would be too much, and chocolates are too messy… She turned a few pages. Cookies seem simple enough, though. Perhaps chocolate chip? Looking in the pantry, she found that the bag of chocolate chips was nearly empty. Certainly, there wouldn’t be enough for a batch of cookies.
She flipped the page. Maybe oatmeal raisin? I’ve got plenty of oats. And that’s pretty simple, too. I just hope she likes raisins.
With her meal now planned, Twilight began working on preparing the meal. She got out a pot, flipped back to the lentil stew recipe, and read the instructions:
Lentil stew is a delicious and easy dish that even beginning cooks can prepare with little difficulty.
“Well that’s good!” Twilight said to herself. Smiling, she continued:
Just follow these simple instructions, and in less than two hours, you’ll have a wholesome, delicious lentil stew. Serves 6-8.
Twilight tapped her hoof against her chin. Spike had said to follow the cookbook exactly, but the recipe was portioned to serve more than two ponies. “How much could it really hurt?” she asked aloud. “I’m just changing the portions. It’s not like I’m changing the actual recipe.” Self-assured in her decision, she decided to make a third of what the recipe called for. That should be enough for the two of us.
The recipe called for a tablespoon of olive oil. Being the expert at conversion tables that she was, Twilight knew that she could avoid trying to use a third of a tablespoon by instead using one full teaspoon. Twilight felt quite clever.
The oil needed to boil for a bit, so she poured it into the pot and turned on the heat.
Next, the book called for a bunch of vegetables to be chopped. She frowned. There was no good way to chop only a third of an onion or a pepper. Sighing, she decided to chop the entire vegetable for each ingredient. Spike would likely find some use for the leftovers later. It was a small relief, at least, that she was able to use one clove of garlic instead of the three that were called for.
With that done, she stirred in the onions, peppers, carrots, eggplant, zucchini, and tomatoes, then turned back to the book. What’s next?
Add one teaspoon each of cayenne pepper and red pepper flakes. Add one tablespoon of cumin.
Although her measurements were frustratingly imprecise, the peppers otherwise gave her no problems. She added them in, painting the amber oil into a vivid orange. Their spicy aroma wafted up into her nostrils, making her mouth water. This stew is going to be perfect!
After adding the lentils, she looked back at the book. A knot formed in her stomach. “Add one half cup of red wine,” she read aloud. Twilight bit her lip. I don’t have red wine, though! I’ve never liked the taste of it, and I couldn’t risk Spike getting ahold of it. She sighed. I should have listened to Berry Punch and kept a bottle around, just in case. Who knew the town drunk had valid advice?
In a desperate bid to save her stew, Twilight flung open every cabinet and pantry, scanning each shelf for some sort of replacement. She clutched her head in her hooves right before she saw a bottle on one of the lower shelves. Ecstatic, she grabbed it in her magic and read the label. Red wine vinegar. That’s perfect! That should be pretty much the same thing.
Reveling in her serendipitous discovery, Twilight added the red wine vinegar to the stew. The mixture within the pot now smelled a bit vinegary, but it still held its appealing orange color. She shrugged. She couldn’t have messed things up too badly.
All that was left was to add basil and oregano. She then covered the pot. The stew needed to simmer for a full hour, so she decided to move on to baking the cookies.
She grabbed two large mixing bowls, a whisk, and all the ingredients she needed. The first thing the book called for was to put oats, flour, cinnamon, baking powder, and salt in one bowl. In the other bowl, she poured in butter, sugar, and molasses.
For a normal pony, mixing the second bowl would have been hard. But Twilight Sparkle wasn’t a normal pony. She had magic, and she was good at it. She floated the whisk over to the bowl and began to vigorously swirl it around. The separate ingredients soon began to mix, forming a more uniform mash that lapped at the sides of the bowl, splashing higher and higher until she accidentally splashed herself in the face. The whisk dropped into the bowl, splashing a few smaller drops over the sides.
“Well, I think that’s enough of that,” Twilight said, wiping her face with a towel. She checked the mirror to make sure none of it had gotten in her hair or anything. Finding herself to be clean, she returned to making the meal.
The mixed bowl now needed to be mixed with an egg and some vanilla. Taking more care this time, she mixed the ingredients together. It took a bit longer than it should have, but she did not end up with any of it on her.
Finally, the two bowls needed to be mixed together. The book cautioned the need to slowly mix everything together, so she took even more time than with the vanilla and eggs.
Twilight set the whisk down. Now that the cookie dough was done, it was time to bake the cookies. She heated the oven, setting a timer for when it was ready. While she waited for it to get hot enough to bake, she made the dough into nice, round balls. There were a dozen cookies-- likely more than enough for dinner, but not so many that they wouldn’t be eaten within a few days.
She checked the clock. There was about an hour until her date arrived. The lentil stew still needed about half an hour to simmer, then she would need to add more beans and cook it for another twenty minutes. The cookies would need about fifteen minutes once they started baking.
Twilight stirred the stew and giggled. This is going pretty well! She’s going to be so impressed!
She could see it now: her marefriend declaring her to be the best marefriend ever. They’d enjoy every bite of what she cooked, they’d talk all evening, and there would definitely be a second date. And third. And more, if things continued to go well. Twilight sighed with a goofy grin on her face.
Her reverie was broken by the oven timer going off. She put the cookies in, resetting the timer for fifteen minutes. She stirred the lentil stew again.
Since she had some down time with the two dishes, she decided to make the coffee. That was the only part of the meal that she had made before, so she wasn’t concerned about it. Some days, she needed her Prench press to get her through the morning.
Twilight had this down to a science. She poured water into a small pot, then used a boiling spell she had perfected. She brought down the coffee, putting in five scoops of coffee grind. Two cups apiece should be fine, she reasoned.
She added the water, mixing the brew just a touch with her magic. She put on the lid and waited. A few minutes, she pressed the coffee.
With that done, she decided to pour the fresh-brewed coffee in a teapot so it didn’t burn. It was far from ideal, and the coffee would be lukewarm, but Twilight didn’t think her date would mind. She happened to know that her marefriend usually drank her tea at room temperature to avoid burning her mouth.
The timer for the cookies went off, and she pulled them from the oven. The strong aroma of cinnamon hit her as soon as the oven door opened. These smell delicious!
She put the cookies on the stove top. They were all golden-brown, and although the raisins weren’t as evenly distributed as she would have liked, they still looked delicious. She smiled. That’s half the meal down! I told Spike it’d be fine.
The lentil stew was almost done simmering. She stirred it one final time, then grabbed the kidney beans and poured them in. Having done that, she reset the timer for twenty minutes.
Twilight sat in her chair and relaxed. Everything would be done in just a short while, well before her date came over. She had a moment to just sit back and psyche herself up for the date.
...
Fluttershy trotted along with a small bounce in her step. She smiled at the birds as they flew past her, and she held her chin just slightly elevated. Her small smile spread into a full grin when she saw the large silhouette of the Golden Oaks Library ahead of her.
This is going to be the best dinner ever!
In the window, a sign advertised that the library was closed. Twilight must have done that so we wouldn’t be interrupted. That’s nice. She quietly opened the door, slowly shuffling in behind it. “Twilight, I’m here!” she called to her marefriend.
“Fluttershy!” Twilight called from the kitchen. She turned to the clock. “You’re early…”
Fluttershy bit her lip and shuffled into the room. “I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be nice to be here a bit earlier than planned.” She shuffled her hoof against the floor. “Should I come back in a little bit?”
“No, you’re fine, Fluttershy,” Twilight said. “It’s just that I wasn’t completely done cooking dinner.” She pulled one of the chairs out from the table. “You’re welcome to sit down with me until it’s done.”
Awkwardly, Fluttershy sat across the table. She tapped her hooves on the table. “So…” she said.
“One second, Fluttershy. Let me get us some coffee.” Twilight pulled down two coffee mugs with her magic, then grabbed the teapot and poured some of the coffee in. She got the canister of creamer and a yellow box, which she didn’t look at. “Do you want creamer or sugar?” she asked, facing Fluttershy as she added some of each to her own mug.
“Yes, please,” Fluttershy said.
“How much?”
“Um, just a bit of creamer and a few spoonfuls of sugar, please. I like it sweet.”
Twilight smiled. I should have guessed a sweet pony like Fluttershy would like her drinks sweet. She poured a generous portion of sugar in Fluttershy’s mug.
Turning back to the table, she placed a mug in each of their spots. She sat back down in her seat.
“Dinner should be done in about,” she checked the timer, “ten minutes.”
Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “How long have you been making this?”
“Roughly two hours,” Twilight said with a shrug. “It’s not that bad. Spike sometimes takes even longer.”
“I see,” Fluttershy said. “Thank you. You didn’t have to cook for us.”
Twilight smiled. “I wanted to, though. It seemed more… personal, I guess.”
Fluttershy gave her a small smile that filled her stomach with butterflies. “That was very sweet of you.”
Twilight stood up, feeling about ten pounds lighter than normal. “I should probably make the salad, so we have something to eat. It’s the only part I haven’t done yet.”
“That’s fine,” Fluttershy said. She took a small sip of her coffee and grimaced. She looked down at the coffee, as if its brown depths would spell out what was wrong. “Um, Twilight? This coffee seems a little bit… off.”
“Off?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. She took a swig of coffee. It was a choice she immediately regretted.
She spat it out in the sink. “Ew!” She scraped her tongue against her teeth. “Why does it taste so sour? That doesn’t even make sense!” She grabbed the yellow box. “Oh no…”
“What is it?” Fluttershy asked.
Twilight held up the box. “I grabbed Spike’s lemonade mix by mistake!” She crinkled her snout. “No wonder it tasted sour!”
She sighed. Thank the stars I brewed more. “I’m sorry, Fluttershy. Do you want me to pour you another cup?” She pulled down the bag of sugar. “With actual sugar this time?”
Fluttershy shook her head. “Um, no thanks.” She quietly pushed her mug off to the side. “I’m not a big fan of coffee anyway.”
“Right.” Twilight’s ears drooped. “Well, I’ve got the salad, at least.” She carried the salad bowl over to the center of the table, along with two plates.
Fluttershy’s stomach growled lightly. The salad looked good. There were spinach and lettuce leaves, diced tomatoes, some onions, and carrot chunks all mixed in. She served herself a large scoop, immediately jabbing at it with a fork. She took a bite.
It had a definite crunch. Not the crisp, clean crunch salads are supposed to have, but the crunch of dirt and sand. “Twilight?” she said, putting down her fork.
“Yes, Fluttershy?”
“You did wash the vegetables first, right?”
Twilight blinked. “You mean they don’t wash them before they sell them?”
Fluttershy grabbed her fork and politely spat the salad out on it. She put it on the plate.
Twilight bit her lip. “Do you want me to rinse everything off?”
“I’m fine. I think I’ll just have the main course instead.”
Of course! The lentil stew! That would put everything back on track and save their date! “Coming right up!”
The timer rang, and Twilight removed the lid from the pot. Steam rose in a large cloud, accompanied by the smell of the spices. She scooped a moderate portion onto two clean plates and placed them at the table. Please let her like this.
She sat in her chair. Fluttershy stared at her expectantly. “Oh,” Twilight said. “I’ll eat it first.” Fluttershy gave a small nod.
She took a bite. The first thing she noticed was that it was tart and somewhat bitter. The vinegar drowned out all the flavor of the beans. About the only other thing she could taste was the spices. She could’ve sworn steam came out of her ears as her mouth heated up.
“Hot!” she cried. She galloped to the sink, sticking her head directly under the faucet. She sighed in relief as the water slowly doused the fire in her mouth.
Turning off the water, she took a deep breath. Her head turned toward Fluttershy.
Fluttershy’s eyes were locked on her own. She frowned and bit her lip. “Twilight…”
This is it. I’ve ruined everything. Twilight turned away. Now her eyes were the part that burned.
“Twilight,” Fluttershy said again, louder this time.
She shook her head. Now there’ll never be a second date.
A hoof lightly touched her withers. Her shoulders tensed. Gently, Fluttershy slid her hoof under Twilight’s chin and turned her head so their eyes met.
Twilight bit her lip. Her marefriend’s face swam in her vision. “I messed everything up,” she whispered. A sniffle rang out, loud and sharp in her ears.
“Shhhh…” Fluttershy cooed. “It’s alright.” She smiled at Twilight. “I didn’t agree to date you for your cooking, Twilight. I agreed because I like you. A lot.” A blush lit up her face.
More sniffles followed. “But what about the food?”
“It wasn’t the best meal ever,” she admitted. “But it’s really sweet that you tried to cook for me.” There was a short pause, as Fluttershy took a deep breath. “Just… next date, I’ll cook.”
Twilight’s eyes widened. “Wait,” she said. “You’re inviting me on another date? After all this?” She swept her hoof over the room.
Fluttershy wiped the tears from her marefriend’s eyes. “Yes.” She kissed Twilight’s cheek. “Now, why don’t we clean this up and go out for dinner? My treat.”
Twilight’s mind reeled. She just kissed me! And invited me on another date! “H-how about I pay?” she stammered. Blinking, she added, “It was my fault, after all.”
Fluttershy tapped her chin. “Split the bill?”
“Okay.” Fluttershy began to pick up the plates, but Twilight reached her hoof in front of her. “I’ll clean it up later.”
“You sure?”
Twilight nodded. “Absolutely.” She tilted her head toward the door. “Shall we?”
Smiling, Fluttershy lightly draped her wing over Twilight. “We shall.”
Together, the two left the library and walked beneath the setting sun to the nearest cafe. Though the wind chilled them, they walked close together and kept each other warm.
After everything that had happened, Twilight wondered how she had had the good luck of ending up with the mare beside her.
...
“Twilight, I’m home,” Spike called. He walked toward the kitchen. “Twilight?”
The room was empty. The plates and bowls still sat on the table. Must’ve gone to Fluttershy’s or something. With a sigh, he began to clean up the mess.
And that’s when he saw it. “Cookies!” he cheered. Looking around, he called, “Twilight, say something if I can’t have cookies!” He cupped his claws behind where his ear would be. No response followed. He smirked. “Guess I can eat them, then.”
He grabbed one and bit into it. “Oh my gosh,” he said.
“These are delicious! Maybe I should let Twilight cook more often!”
