Makin' Bakin'

by Caerdwyn

Rating: everyone
Tags: Rarity, Applejack, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3410

Rarity is a pony of many talents. Her greatest goal, though, is not the praise of critics... it is the approval of friends. Can she make the grade in a talent that does not involve a sewing machine?

Rarity is a pony of many talents. Her greatest goal, though, is not the praise of critics... it is the approval of friends. Can she make the grade in a talent that does not involve a sewing machine? There is only one way to find out, because the proof of the baking is in the eating.

Published 2013-03-02 19:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-03-02 19:50:02 UTC

Makin' Bakin'

MAKIN' BAKIN'

The sun was reddening as it sank low, touching the horizon. The shadows of shops and trees lengthened over the Ponyville town square as ponies took down their sellers' stalls. It had been a fine day for a farmer's market, and everypony had sold well and bought well. One in particular, who had set up her cart near the dress shop, was especially satisfied.

"Ten bushels out, one bushel back. Big brother gotta be plenty happy with that!"

Applejack hummed an old folk-song as she tucked away the canvas awning, and lifted the last basket into the cart. Just as she had lowered her head to get into the pulling-harness, the door of the dress shop opened, revealing an elegant white unicorn with a perfectly coiffured mane and tail.. "Oh, Applejack, I'm glad you haven't left yet!"

Applejack looked up... "Oh! Howdy, Rarity! Another minute and I woulda been gone. What can I do ya for?"

"I'm done with my work for the day, and now I've a mind to do a little baking. An apple-cinnamon cake, to be precise." Rarity fussed with her mane for a moment. As Applejack's eyes widened, Rarity scolded "Oh, don't you go making faces at me! You're not the only pony who knows how to turn an apple into a treat." Her 'hmph!' was practiced, aloof, and perfectly cultured. "I am not a one-trick pony."

"Never done said otherwise. I jus' thought... y'know, bakin' bein' messy an' all..." A withering glare from the unicorn put an end to that line of reasoning. "Um. So. You need apples?"

Rarity motioned imperiously with her horn, a graceful (if somewhat cartoonish) imitation of the Princess Celestia's beckoning-gesture. "Yes, I do. And since you need to be made a believer, I would like to invite you to judge the results. If you are so inclined, that is."

"Whoa, Nelly! 'course I'll take ya up on that! It'll be a right proper honor. Plus it'll be nice to have an apple-treat what I didn't make myself." Applejack picked up the basket of apples in her mouth and trotted into the dress shop, then followed Rarity upstairs into the unicorn's living quarters. To be honest, she was also a little curious. Apple-bakin' was her specialty, and it was worth the risk of an upset tummy to find out just what Rarity was up to.

Applejack looked around inquisitively. She hadn't been in Rarity's private home before, only the storefront. To nopony's surprise the rooms were immaculate, orderly, and decorated with skill and flair. As they entered the kitchen Rarity apologized for the "terrible mess", which as far as Applejack could tell consisted of a single plate and goblet unwashed in the sink.

"Kin I help?" asked Applejack as she set down the basket of apples.

"Well, I could follow your example and say 'no'..."

Applejack's pout was world-class, quivering lower lip and large, wet eyes included. Rarity winced and immediately relented. "Oh, very well, but only as I ask. I am, after all, showing how I bake. We already know how good at it you are."

Applejack pranced about a little, "I won't do nothin' to git in yer way!" Rarity sighed in resignation, then donned a lace-edged apron that was embroidered with the three blue diamonds of her cutie-mark.

Rarity began gathering canisters of dry ingredients, spice jars, and baking accoutrements. She selected a large glass cake-pan. Metal might have made for a slightly faster bake, but she didn't want the edges to burn. "Would you be so kind as to grease that? Sides and bottom both, if you please." Applejack complied, and Rarity noted with approval that she used butter... and plenty of it... instead of shortening for the greasing. "Let's not flour the pan. I think a little sugar would be better, don't you?" Applejack agreed enthusiastically, and dropped a couple of tablespoons of plain granulated white sugar into the pan. She swirled it around until the inside of the pan was coated with glittering sugar crystals clinging to the butter.

"And check to see if the oven is ready?" Rarity asked. She had turned it on earlier in the hopes that Applejack's inventory was not completely sold out.

Applejack pulled the oven door open and then flicked some water onto the baking pan sitting on the rack, watching the droplets quickly sizzle to steam. "That looks 'bout right for bakin'."

Rarity turned her nose up a little at the so-called 'checking'. "'About right'? In my kitchen, we know precisely how hot the oven is." Rarity gestured with her horn at a thermometer set into the oven door. "Does 'kinda hot' work better for you than '350 degrees'? I wouldn't want to confound you with mathematics."

"Girl, jus' cuz I don't git all reliant on some contraption to tell me what I can tell on mah own, that don't mean I'm numbers-stupid. I run a farm, remember. An' that's as legit an' hard an' gotta-have-a-budget business as any frilly filly froo-froo franchise!"

Rarity started to toss her head in disdain, but a sidelong glance at Applejack revealed real annoyance on the part of the earth-pony. Oops, Rarity thought. That must be a sore point. Rurals do get unfairly looked down upon...

"Of course it is, dear. I never meant to imply otherwise. My apologies." Rarity dipped her horn graciously in a little bow.

"Right!" retorted Applejack, though her tone had cooled. "Anyways, ponies was bakin' treats long afore any of this fancy stuff came along. Sometimes I think we done lost somethin' with all these newfangled contraptions. It gits between you an' whatever it is you're doin'. Them gadgets, they become more important than whatever it was you was tryin' to git done."

Rarity nodded as she magicked down additional ingredients from her cupboard. "You do have a point. Doing things by hoof does ensure one truly understands the principles of what one is doing." For just a moment she wondered if using unicorn-telekinesis counted as 'doing things by hoof', but that was something to think about some other time.

A set of mirror-shiny measuring cups levitated from a drawer, then hovered for a moment as Rarity cocked an eyebrow at Applejack, almost in challenge.

Applejack laughed, "I still use 'em myself. Takes a lifetime to eyeball a 'hoof-heap' ta be a perfect cup anyways. Though Granny Smith, she'd be able ta tell yer three grains o' sugar short of a lump."

Rarity giggled, "Or a few cards short in your deck." It was unsaid, but each knew the other was envisioning Pinkie Pie.

Rarity began to measure her ingredients into two immaculately-polished stainless steel mixing bowls. A flurry of powdery ingredients went into one bowl... two cups of all-purpose flour, a half teaspoon of salt, a teaspoon of baking soda, two.. no, three teaspoons of cinnamon (because, as Rarity knew, when apples are involved there is no such thing as "too much cinnamon"). She started carefully stirring the dry ingredients together with a spoon, but a moment later stopped when Applejack snickered.

"And what is so funny?" Rarity demanded. "It's important that everything be mixed evenly, without making a mess!"

"Got a shortcut for ya, sugar-dumpling. Add this one to yer tool-chest." Before Rarity could respond, Applejack had placed a plate atop the mixing bowl, and taking both up in her hooves she shook them vigorously, SHOOKA-SHOOKA-SHOOKA just like mixing a cocktail in a tumbler. She then set the mixing bowl down, tapped the plate twice to dislodge the motes of flour clinging to it back into the bowl, and smugly looked over at Rarity. "Done. An' you ain't gonna git a better mix."

"Mmm. Well. It did dirty a dish, but... that was quick. And effective." Rarity was already measuring a cup of vegetable oil into the larger of the two mixing bowls, then she levitated two eggs. "I suppose you have a better way to break eggs too?"

"Don't you tempt me, pony."

Rarity delicately cracked the eggs open into the oil, careful to not get any shell fragments in. She then magicked a whisk up and began briskly beating the eggs and oil into a frothy, creamy mass, her horn aglow. It took a little while to get the right texture. Next, she decanted a teaspoon of fine vanilla into the bowl... considered a moment... then added another. A little extra vanilla never did any harm, even if proper vanilla extract was expensive. Rarity would no more scrimp on the quality of her spices than she would on fabric or thread.

"That's a mighty handy trick, that horn-thing," said Applejack. She leaned forward to peer into the bowl. "I got me a crank-mixer, but it done makes one proper mess iffen you ain't careful with it."

"Being a unicorn has its perks," Rarity allowed. She began adding sugar to the egg mix slowly, whisking it in as it poured. Not all at once; that just makes things lumpy and uneven. It took concentration to keep the mixing-whisk moving steadily while measuring and pouring in the one and a half cups of sugar, but Rarity was adept. Hers was the horn of a craftspony.

"Be a dear and peel me some of those fabulous apples, would you?" Rarity asked. Applejack laughed; Rarity might be a unicorn with her fancy magic, but nobody beat the Apple Family at apple-peelin'! A small paring knife made short work of stripping the peels and coring the crisp apples, and Applejack saved a little garbage-duty by eating the peels and cores, seeds and all. Rarity rolled her eyes at the uncouth display, but said nothing. While the other pony had been preparing the apples, Rarity had continued beating the egg-and-sugar mix until there was no sign of any granules of sugar; it was fully dissolved. She delicately removed the whisk and placed it in the sink, not letting a drop of the sugar-goo fall to the counter, then levitated a wooden spoon.

"Shouldn't that there spoon oughta be... silver?" Applejack teased. She got a stinging smack to the rump with the spoon for her troubles, but it was worth it.

"I'll have you know I was never a filly of privilege. Silver spoon indeed! Now cut the apples into small pieces, if you please. I will need five cups' worth." The bowl with the flour and spices lifted up over the 'wet' bowl, and began ever-so-slowly to shake its mix down into the egg-and-oil. The spoon, surrounded by little sparkles, gently folded the dry ingredients into the wet. This had to be done with a light touch; abusing the batter at this point by being impatient and dumping in all the dry parts, or beating too vigorously, would make the cake tough and unappetizing. Twilight Sparkle had once explained it had something to do with proteins and gluten-strands.

Applejack cut the peeled apples into chunks perhaps half-an-inch in size. She quietly snitched a couple of pieces into her mouth in the process. "Samples," she said when Rarity rolled her eyes. "Gotta make sure they're just right!" But of course they were just right; these were pie apples from Sweet Apple Acres. Macintoshes, grown in a section of the farm tended by her brother personally.

When the batter was fully mixed, it was very thick, like a wet cookie-dough. The spoon would practically stay straight up on its own within the goo. Rarity took a deep breath, then magicked up the batter-bowl, the cake pan, the plate of apple-chunks and the spoon. Four objects at once, each doing something different, was a mark of a skilled unicorn; few were that dexterous outside of their special talent. She folded the apple-pieces gently into the batter, then spooned the batter into the pan. She smoothed the batter in the pan, then levitated the bowls and spoon over to the sink. Rarity then sprinkled a quarter cup of loosely-crumbled brown sugar onto the top of the batter.

"There!" she said as she magicked the cake pan into the oven and set a timer. "This should be done in about--" Her voice trailed off as she saw with horror that Applejack had her muzzle in the bowl and was licking it clean. "That's... barbaric!"

Applejack giggled as she lifted her batter-spattered muzzle from the bowl. "And deeee-licious! I saved you the spoon, though." Before Rarity could object further, Applejack had popped the gooey spoon into Rarity's gaping mouth. "Share the treat an' quiet th' fuss-hole! Now that's what I call multitaskin'!"

Forty-five minutes, a stern lecture on sanitary practices, and a thorough face-washing later, the timer went off with a "ding!". Rarity shooed Applejack out of the kitchen, and checked the cake. It passed the "clean toothpick" test and the "springs back in the middle" test... it was done! She levitated the cake pan out onto a wire rack, turned off the oven, then joined a grumpy Applejack in her parlor. "It has to cool," Rarity said. "And I don't trust you to wait!"

"Hmph!" was all Applejack could muster. She was thoroughly distracted by the cinnamon-and-sugar smell and the need to maintain her sulk at peak form.

"While it cools, I suppose we could... oh, I don't know, play cards or something. Unless you'd rather wash dishes?" Rarity said, settling herself upon a velvet pillow before a low table and magicking another pillow for Applejack across from her. She laughed at the sour look when the dishwashing was mentioned. "Do you know how to play Gin Rummy?"

"Gin Rummy? That sounds like Cousin Calvados when he done had too much t' drink. It anythin' like poker? I'm good at that!"

Rarity again rolled her eyes. "Stud poker, no doubt." She blushed visibly when Applejack leered at her, though, and hastily added "Well, the object of Gin Rummy..."

Something over an hour later, having been thoroughly trounced at the card-table, Rarity reentered the kitchen muttering "Beginner's luck..." She had lost a bet to see who would be cleaning the dishes. She had to admit though, Applejack had a keen mind for card games.

The cake had cooled. Rarity carefully extracted the cake from the pan onto an elegant cake dish, and took a moment to look it over. A nice firm crust with apple-pieces showing here and there... studied informality. She took the opportunity to further chill the cake with a subtle application of magic; an hour in a refrigerator would have helped, but both she and Applejack were eager for the results. A dusting of powdered sugar on top, and a yellow rose with barely an inch of stem inserted into the cake at its center, and Rarity pronounced it done. Her horn illuminated, she solemnly marched back into the parlor, cake preceding and a little above her. Applejack oohed at the cake, then glanced sidelong at Rarity, who was watching her almost hawk-like.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to say something like 'Let's done git her et right up' and then devour the cake right from its serving-plate, or something like that?"

Hearing her own rural drawl coming from Rarity set Applejack giggling. "Aw, heck no! It's way too purty, an' you done worked hard on it. Smells mighty good too. I'm a-gonna 'preciate it for a spell first, iffen ya don't mind."

Rarity was almost aglow with satisfaction. "Why no, I don't mind at all. You stay right there, now I want to make a glaze..." She retreated into the kitchen and fetched a sauce pan. Quickly she set a burner on her stove ablaze, and added ingredients. Half a cup of butter, check. Half a cup of brown sugar, check. A quarter cup of cream, check. A spoon kept the mix stirring as she brought it to a boil slowly, careful to not let the butter get so hot it scorched. Three minutes of stirring and bubbling, then off the heat, and a teaspoon of vanilla was mixed in. She transferred the hot glaze into a saucière, then brought it back to the parlor along with a silver cake-serving spatula. For a moment she had considered bringing in some vanilla ice cream too... the sauce would be divine over ice cream... but this was about the cake.

Applejack was still examining the cake, sniffing and peering at it. It had taken a massive effort of will to not devour it whole, but she certainly didn't want to ruin its appearance. "It's plumb gorgeous!" She paused a moment, then added "Not that I mind, but how come did you go to the trouble of that there flower? I mean, it's really nice, but it's just the two of us."

"Well, my dear, presentation does matter. Am I going to do less than my best for my friends?"

Applejack smiled, a little overwhelmed by the effort Rarity was going to. "Of course not, sugar-cube. You of all ponies ain't never gonna go for quick-n-easy."

Rarity began cutting the cake, slicing it into bite-sized cubes. A unicorn could manipulate a knife and fork. An earth-pony? Not so well. Best to not put Applejack into a position of having to take ungraceful bites out of a large piece like... like that beast Soarin had done with the pie at the Grand Galloping Gala. She artfully heaped the cake-bites onto the plates, then drizzled the warm butter-caramel glaze over the morsels. Rarity placed the dishes before Applejack and herself, plucked the rose from the center of the cake and set it next to Applejack's plate, then bowed her head.

"I await your judgment."

Applejack leaned forward to her plate...

The moon was high in the sky when Applejack trotted into Sweet Apple Acres, cart in tow. Her big brother was waiting at the gate, as he always did on market-day. She was later than normal getting back, but he made no mention of it. He glanced over the cart... ten bushels had gone out, none returned. "A good day at the market?"

Applejack grinned as she unhitched herself from the cart, then jingled the coin-purse tucked into the empty baskets. "Eee-yup!" She accompanied the large red stallion into the farmhouse, then nudged his ribs with a hoof. "And I learnt somethin'. That Rarity... she's one mighty fine cook when she sets her mind to it. She done showed me a new recipe for apple-cake. It was fan-buckin'-tastic! She almost busted up bawlin' when I told her so. I dunno why a pony with that much talent would ever be worried she'd do less than amazin'."

Big Mac tapped Applejack on the forehead with a hoof. "Sound like anypony else we know?"

Applejack blushed. "Just you hush up. Don't need no pony with a swelled head here." She shrugged her way out of the wagon harness, then reared up to hoof-tap Big Mac's forehead right back. "And don't you go tellin' Granny Smith I et dessert first, iffen you know what's good for you! I ain't gonna be cheated out of a slice of her deep-dish apple-caramel-rum pie."

Big Mac grinned. "With ice cream. How do you fancy frilly city-ponies put it. Ah-lah-mow-dee?"

"I'll give YOU 'frilly', you big lump! Or do I have to remind you 'n everyone else about which colt wanted to be a ballet-pony?"

"Ehhh... nope."

Author's Note

This was the first MLP:FIM fanfic I wrote, not quite two years ago. Time flies.

Yes, the recipe embedded in the story works, and works well. It makes one heck of a fine coffee-cake. The recipe is based upon one I found at Allrecipes.com, with a few of my own modifications. Several readers in DeviantArt (where this story was originally posted) have extracted the recipe and tried it out. No crippling injuries have been reported. If you want to go straight to to the recipe, check out the comments there (I am not sure whether adding a chapter that is just the recipe would meet site content guidelines here), but I personally think it would be more fun to dig it out.

Great thanks must go out to Egophiliac for her illustration, and to my local pony-herd for being test victims of the results of the recipe. There were no deaths and they still talk to me, so it's all good.

"My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic" and its characters are trademarks of Hasbro, Inc. This story is copyrighted 2011 by Caerdwyn. All rights reserved.