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Post by Margorr on Oct 14, 2015 21:51:01 GMT -5
A well dressed Cyphel steps out into the kitchen, and stands in front of the empty judges table. He folds his paws in front of him and begins his speech.
"Welcome to MasterChef. Tonight we have four home cooks competing to impress our judges, who will determine which of them will progress to the next round. The last one standing earns the title of Mossflower MasterChef. Tonight there will be three rounds, an appetizer, an entree, and a desert. A full pantry will be provided for the chef's use. There will also be a few mystery items, which they will have to incorporate into their dish. They can use as much or as little of that ingredient as they choose. Let's bring out our chefs and have them introduce themselves."
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Oct 14, 2015 21:59:29 GMT -5
A short, miserly mousemaid shuffles into the kitchen. She is wearing very plain chef white's, and a small pair of spectacles. She could probably be mistaken for someone who wandered out of the nearest old-mouse's home, but despite this she has a determined fire in her aging eyes.
"Hello. My name is Mildred, and I am a home chef. Cooking is a hobby I've pursued for many years, and I'm excited to put my skills to the test."
Despite this riveting introduction, she sounds a little less than enthused, and looks as if she just got a bit of her tail chopped off.
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Post by Margorr on Oct 14, 2015 22:10:45 GMT -5
The next chef out was a stoat, dressed similarly to Mildred, but in black instead of white. He's taken some time to make sure he was well groomed. He stops by his station and flashes a smile into the camera.
"Hello. I'm Margorr Revnik. You could say I'm a home chef. I learned all the basics from my mother, and in my travels have picked up new tricks and things from otherbeasts. I'm here to win. I could take anything you throw at me and make it into a good meal."
He puff his chest out confidently and smirks at Mildred.
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Post by oxfordlunch on Oct 15, 2015 22:08:59 GMT -5
A tall, squarely built young rat follows after Margorr. The fur on his head is sticking up endearingly in places, despite having been attacked by the makeup crew before filming began. He looks a bit bewildered being on the set, and tugs nervously at the hem of his basic white jacket.
"Uh, my name is Brigg," he begins, his voice stilted as though he has carefully rehearsed what he ought to say. "I learned to cook from my mother on my family's farm. There isn't always a lot of money, and sometimes there's not a lot of different produce in season, so I've had a lot of practice getting creative with ingredients. I'm competing to bring the prize money home for my family. There's a lot what needs done around the property and such..." He trails off, unsure of how long he was supposed to be speaking.
He swallows and scratches the back of his head. His nerves are so keyed up he feels like he might start shaking. This is so important. They could really, really use that money at home.
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Post by Jared Sandeye on Oct 20, 2015 14:29:02 GMT -5
There was a strong reluctance in Jared Sandeye’s heart as he stepped forward, following Margorr and Brigg. The squirrel was dressed in a bright-red leather jacket over a stark white tanktop and blue denim jeans, his bangs combed neatly to show a slightly formal air. His green wicker slippers were very faded and worn, but still strong enough to allow for good walking. He nervously cleared his throat and proceeded to introduce himself.
“Um, hello everyone, I’m Jared Sandeye. And, um...I honestly have no idea what I’m doing here.” Jared’s voice was shaking slightly and he was blushing from the embarrassment.
Why do I have the feeling that this will be the death of me?
Cooking was not Jared’s strong suit, and he couldn’t help but feel like this was going to be the worst day of his life.
But oh, how he would be proven very wrong. He just had to wait.
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Post by Margorr on Oct 20, 2015 14:53:13 GMT -5
Cyphel clapped his paws together once, as soon as all the chefs were at their tables and had introduced themselves.
"Thank you, chefs. I look forward to seeing what each of you brings to this competition. Today, you all will not only be competing for the title of Mossflower MasterChef, but for a prize of ten thousand dollars as well. To help choose our winner, we've brought in three judges. Let's meet them."
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Post by Captain Bigwig on Oct 20, 2015 15:29:37 GMT -5
Sitting proudly at the judge's table, Dianthus winked lavishly at the camera before offering a wave. Dressed in simple, dark clothing, he also sported a rather ridiculous bow tie in the shape of a... carrot?
"Dianthus Dancepaw, at your service! Executive chef and world-renowned food critic, and I'm ready to eat some bloomin' amazing food, so get cracking, wot! Hahahhoho!"
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Post by Thrush on Oct 20, 2015 16:16:38 GMT -5
Frederick watched the proceedings, his dark eyes narrowed thoughtfully. The first chef who stepped up was a short, elderly mouse dressed in chef's whites. She introduced herself as Mildred, and followed up by informing everybeast that she was a home chef. She would likely have a fair bit of cooking experience, if she'd been pursuing it for so long... She didn't really look or sound like she was excited to be here, which Frederick hadn't expected. Perhaps she just wanted to get on with things, though? The second chef was a well-groomed stoat dressed in black; he called himself Margorr Revnik, and he was also a home chef. Ah, so he'd learned mostly from his mother, but also from beasts he met in his travels. Interesting, that. This fellow seemed rather confident, proclaiming that he could take whatever was thrown at him. Truth be told, this fellow struck Frederick as perhaps a little bit arrogant, with the way that he puffed out his chest...
The third chef was a rather large rat that called himself Brigg. The poor fellow looked and sounded rather nervous, and when he spoke, it sounded to Frederick as if he'd rehearsed carefully. Honestly, Frederick felt rather sympathetic--getting onstage certainly wasn't an easy thing. Brigg went on to tell them that he'd learned to cook from his mother, and that he'd had to get rather creative at times. So, he was competing in an effort to win the prize money to help his family... The fourth chef was a squirrel--Jared Sandeye--dressed in a rather distinctive red jacket, a white tanktop, and a pair of jeans. And... He had no idea what he was doing here? Frederick frowned slightly, not entirely sure what to make of that. Even so, he supposed time would tell.
Then Cyphel, the host, clapped his paws and gave the usual introductory speech before turning things over to the judges.
Frederick couldn't help but smile as Dianthus introduced himself--the other hare was a rather amiable sort of chap, to be sure. And he certainly did know his food, Frederick would wager. Dianthus was also sporting a somewhat silly-looking bowtie--shaped like a carrot--but it seemed to work for him.
Next, it was Frederick's turn to introduce himself. Today, the lanky hare was dressed rather smartly in khaki trousers, a pale dress shirt, and a dark sport coat. He smiled at the chefs and waved politely before introducing himself, his voice steady.
"Hello, all. I'm Frederick Heathcote Willoughby, chef and restaurateur, wot. I say, I'm very pleased to be here, and I'm rather looking forward to seeing what all of you create today."
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Post by Beekeeper on Nov 11, 2015 17:06:17 GMT -5
Seated at the end of the judges table, Dmitri surveyed the contestants somewhat skeptically as they introduced themselves.
The old lady seemed determined, but time would tell if she actually had the energy and versatility to keep up with younger chefs and contemporary cuisine.
The stoat could go either way--if the arrogance was backed with skill, Dmitri didn’t mind, but he was pretty sure he was the only one.
Farm boy was already shaping up to be the audience favorite, Dmitri wagered. Innocent home cook, bringing the prize money home to his family. Sincere and endearingly trepidatious. Sickening. Dmitri’s gaze lingered on him even after the fourth contestant stepped out.
The judge’s attention refocused at the end of the squirrel’s introduction, though. He snorted. What, had he just wandered in off the street, then?
The other judges introduced themselves next. Dmitri was rather indifferent to them, to be honest. They seemed to know what they were talking about, but they hadn’t judged together very often so he hadn’t formed much of an opinion. Truth be told, he probably wouldn’t have remembered their names if they hadn’t just said them. Then it was his turn.
He wouldn’t have admitted it, but part of him was always a little tense at the introduction--some secret part of him worried about how seriously he was taken as a judge, being so young. He’d grown up in the business, in his parents’ restaurants, and gotten an early start in his career, but there would still be some that doubted his experience and qualifications…
Shoving this insecurity aside, the young rat, smartly dressed in a dark suit with a vest but without his jacket, gave an acknowledging wave toward the camera. “I’m Dmitri Keenflight, restaurateur and critic. It’s a pleasure to be here. As always, I’m expecting a fierce competition and great food. I’m sure our contestants won’t disappoint.” Smiling, he swept his eyes over the chefs again. God he hoped one of them would crack.
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Post by Margorr on Nov 11, 2015 21:39:03 GMT -5
"Thank you, Judges.
Now Chefs, each of you has at your station a basket containing three mystery ingredients. You will have to incorporate these into your dish, using as much or as little of each item as you want. Along with those items, you will have access to a fully stocked pantry. Remember, in this round, you are to prepare an appetizer, and one Chef will be eliminated at the end. You will be judged on Presentation, Taste, and Creativity. Go ahead and take a look in your Mystery Baskets. Your time starts now, you have thirty minutes."
(Your Mystery ingredients are Cheetos, Canned Tuna, and the wasabi paste that comes with Sushi)
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Margorr opened his basket and reached inside, pulling each ingredient out one by one. There was a bag of cheetos, wasabi, and canned tuna. He had to make an appetizer out of this?? The tuna shouldn't be too hard to work with, and the Wasabi might be alright, but he hated the fake taste of the cheese on the Cheetos. He wasn't quite sure what to do with those.
Margorr immediately decided he was going to make a tuna salad. He'd make a wasabi mayonnaise to hold the tuna together, and he'd throw a few more ingredients in there too, and he'd serve it with home made potato chips. He'd get started on that right away, and figure out the cheetos as he went along. Wanting to keep a good time, the stoat dashed off to the pantry to grab more ingredients.
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Post by oxfordlunch on Nov 18, 2015 20:20:48 GMT -5
Brigg opens his basket, peers inside, grins at the brightly-colored bag of cheese curls. "Brilliant, I love these." He pulls the bag from the basket, along with a flat tin of tuna and a container of a pasty something in a horrible shade of green. He stares at the label. "Wa-sa-bi?"
The other chefs are hurriedly unpacking their own baskets, and Brigg glances around at them and at the judge's table, searching for a hint regarding the mystery paste. He drums his paw on the worktop, his brain feeling like it's been doused in golden syrup, gone all sticky. When he watched the show on TV, he noticed this happen to contestants sometimes, the sudden pressure causing them to freeze up and stare blankly at their ingredients. He cracks the container of wasabi open, the snap of plastic jump-starting the wheels in his mind, sending them turning again.
Snatching up a teaspoon, he swipes it into the wasabi and sticks it in his mouth. He needs to know what he's working with.
At first, nothing.
Then, a heat seeping over his tongue, into his nostrils, like he's swallowed an enormous drink of icy water. Good lord. His eyes widen and he coughs and sputters so hard his chest aches. "Bloody- what the-"
He struggles to get a hold of himself. When he manages to get his breath back, the comedy of the situation nearly bowls him over and he laughs brightly, smiling around at the judges and everyone else. A right foolish thing to do, that was. "Blimey, bit hotter then paprika, innit?"
The laughter has soothed his nerves, and he turns back to his ingredients with a new lightness to his mood. Tuna. He can work with that. He's made burgers with tinned salmon loads of times, and he figures this will work just as well. A slider would be just right for an appetizer. The cheese curls might make a good binder for the burger if he crushes them. The unexpectedly dangerous wasabi, he will need to puzzle over a bit longer.
He pops the lid on the tuna tin and sets to draining it out and scooping it into a bowl, seasoning as he goes with a generous pinch of kosher salt. Thoughts race through his mind of wasabi mayonnaise, wasabi crisps, wasabi vinaigrette. His mouth burns on and on as he works.
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Post by Jared Sandeye on Dec 19, 2015 16:33:14 GMT -5
Needless to say, Jared was a little dubious as to his skills in cooking, as it wasn’t exactly his strong point. He would have been better off in a music competiton, like his mother; or even a blacksmith convention, something his father would have been interested in. But Madeline and Larina (his sister and girlfriend, respectively) encouraged him to participate in the MasterChef contest. “Who knows?” Madeline had said. “You might learn something new, and improve your skills!”
She’s right, Jared admitted to himself. If I want to improve what I have, I’ve gotta buck myself up and do this! Whether I win or lose, it does not matter, only that I try! I don’t need the prize money; there is somebeast here who can put it to better use than I can. OK, I’m ready! Here goes nothing!
Moving over to his Mystery Basket, he lifted the lid to see what it offered him. A bag of Cheetos, a can of wasabi (more commonly known as horseradish), and canned tuna. Jared frowned a little bit; out of all the foods in the world, Jared could never properly understand the appeal of wasabi. Then again his Dad, a lover of hot sauces and spicy pastes, would have gone ecstatic over it. If he were a judge in this competition, he would have urged his son to include it in his meal.
Cheetos, wasabi, and canned tuna. Imagine the possibilities. Jared’s frown pulled up into a smirk. The gears in his head were starting to turn. Despite his terrible cooking skills, all that mattered was that he put in the effort. Time to go to work!
He emptied the basket and put them on the side of the stove. Does one combine Cheetos with wasabi? The tastes would both conflict and merge, so he supposed it could work. But it would still be difficult to tell, considering Jared’s personal dislike for hot sauces himself. Nevertheless, Jared prepared a plate, dumped out a fourth of the bag and arranged it neatly. With a spoon, he scooped out a slightly smaller amount of the wasabi. Taking small bites, he tested it himself. As his tongue burned with the sauce, the cheese also spread over his taste buds. So this half-worked, half-failed. Now was not the time to get overconfident.
The heated stoves around him nearly made him sweat, so he hurriedly took off his red jacket and sprinted to the coat rack on the other side of the room. Sliding back into place, he grabbed a can opener and proceeded to open the tuna. Thank Galum Larina had taught him how to work one of these! Wrenching off the lid, Jared drained the liquid into the sink and made sure to wash it down the drain. So far, so good. He washed the wasabi-soaked spoon and poured out some of the tuna onto the same plate, to complement the Cheetos and wasabi.
The gears in his head continued to whirl as he considered other possibilities as to what he could do. Three kinds of food on the same plate was a bit dull and unoriginal, so Jared had to come up with some other ideas.
But one mistake was soon to come his way.
In spite of this, his ears twitched as he heard some noises nearby. Had somebeast turned on or was playing music? What in the world was that, and where was it coming from?
OOC: Jared’s Dad’s love of spicy sauces is based off of my own Dad’s love for sriracha sauce. And Galum is one of Jared’s ancestors, venerated as a war hero.
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bye!
