dS Flashfic - "The Cooking Contest" (PG)

[hsavinien]

Title: The Cooking Contest
Author: H. Savinien
Disclaimer: due South and the characters mentioned here belong to Canada and their respective creators/actors.
Wordcount: 300
Rating: PG
Summary:  The Chicago Consulates participated in a televised cooking contest.  Turnbull reports back to the 2-7.  Written for ds_snippets LJ challenge 59.

***

Harding Welsh rarely felt trapped in his own office, but somehow Canadians seemed to bring it on.

"So we tried, then gave up...but the trying was very revealing, Sir," Turnbull said earnestly.

Harding rubbed his face.  "I'm sure you'll elaborate, Constable."

"Tasting proved inconclusive and, of course, there was no opportunity for a lab test; that's part of the challenge."  Turnbull leaned in confidentially.  "I theorized that the texture was the clue, but Constable Fraser is not always inclined to listen.  The Inspector was concerned about the passage of time, particularly since we had inadequate range space available and would be using it in stages."

Jack stifled laughter. "So what, you guys just ignored the identification part?"

Turnbull nodded.  "We needed the time for cooking.  Inspector Thatcher is particularly gifted at chopping vegetables, so she took charge of the side dishes, while Constable Fraser fileted and fried the fish. I prepared the dessert.  The unidentified solids we labeled 'cheese' and I concocted a fetching arrangement of strawberry compote around them, with mint leaves for garnish."

Huey leaned back into the couch.  "Well, that sounds pretty good.  What did Thatcher make?"

"A delicately sauteed dish of greens and julienned carrots, flavored with more of the mint and lemon pepper," Turnbull said dreamily.  "Quite the perfect complement to the fish."

Harding's mouth watered despite himself.  "So, how'd you end up scoring and what was the white solid stuff?"

"Oh!  Points off for misidentification, but we placed second after the Ecuadorian Consulate."  Turnbull shook his head mournfully.  "The Ecuadorian Consul was trained as a chef.  She correctly identified the solids as the pressed remains of almonds after they had been crushed to make almond milk."

Harding nodded, grimacing sympathetically, and tried to turn off his brain.  At least he wasn't trapped alone.