Title: Fried Chicken
Summary: Rogue talks family and makes lunch
Prompt: Lunch
Characters: Rogue, Jubilee
Word Count: 1251
Author's Note: Background taken from what I wrote for fandom_tropolis. Basically, her father's parents are Spanish, and they kicked her out after the Cody/David incident. Major props to Jen for the awesome beta. (Yes I'm just now posting it.)
"What're you doin' girlfriend?" Jubilee came up behind Rogue, who had just pulled a huge butcher knife from the knife block. She held it tightly in one latex-gloved hand.
Rogue whirled around. "Jesus, Jubes, don't sneak up on a girl like that! ÔSpecially when she's got a knife!" She rolled her eyes at her friend who'd gone white at the sight of the knife. "Oh, don't be scared. You should o' known better."
Jubes laughed. "Yeah, I suppose so." She sat down at the kitchen table. "But really, what're you doin'? Cookin'?" She snapped her gum, watching the other girl bustle around the kitchen.
"Generally that's what a body does when she's in the kitchen, silly. Yes, I am." She grinned, turning the heat up on a wide, deep frying pan. "I'm fryin' chicken. Haven't had a decent fried chicken supper since leavin' Mississippi, and I've been cravin' it lately." She dropped two huge spoonfuls of lard into the pan, and walked back to the counter as they melted.
Jubilee looked disgusted. "Is that lard?"
Rogue raised an eyebrow in a very Logan-like gesture. "It's better for you than that artificially-hydrogenated vegetable oil. That stuff is all unnatural and does awful things to you. Cancer and all that." She turned her back to her friend. She had a frying chicken, defrosted, sitting on a cutting board. Using the heel of her hand, she splayed it out, then used the big knife to cut down the center of its back. "You ever fried chicken before, Jubes?"
It was Jubilee's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Come on, Roguey. My parent's are Chinese, and we don't get fried chicken on the streets. Closest I got is KFC."
Rogue continued to cut up the chicken, slicing off appendages with practiced skill. "That ain't fried chicken. You know they use mutant chickens with five legs there?" She turned and winked.
"Uh huh. I bet if they did, the Prof would be all over their ass, and we'd have a hundred five legged chickens Ôround the mansion." Jubilee popped her gum, then started drumming her fingers on the table.
"If you're bored," Rogue offered with a grin, "you can start peelin' potatoes for mashin'." She pulled out a bag of spuds from under the sink and plopped them on the table in front of Jubilee. "Here you go. Knife or peeler?"
Jubilee stared at the potatoes. "You're jokin' right? I don't know how to peel potatoes! Hell, I don't think I've ever seen one that hasn't been cooked before!"
By this time, Rogue was turned back to the counter, dropping chicken parts into a mixture of eggs and buttermilk. "Jubes, I'm kiddin'. Instant potatoes are in the cabinet above the sink." Once all the chicken pieces were covered in the liquid, Rogue mixed up some white flour, salt and pepper in a pie pan. Coating the chicken completely in the flour, she readied them for the grease. "I'm not lettin' you eat unless you help, so get to it Jubilee!"
Groaning, the girl stood up and started rummaging through the cabinet Rogue indicated. "Boiling water, butter and potato flakes. Sounds easy enough. Even I can't mess this up." At Rogue's grin, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, I probably could, but it'd be hard. And I'm going to try not to, okay?"
Rogue dropped the chicken carefully into the hot lard. She backed off as each one hit the pan, avoiding the spatters. "You'll do fine." Once all the pieces were in, she rearranged them a bit, then put on the lid. She took the seat Jubes had vacated, supervising her potato-making efforts. "You gotta boil the water first, sugah. You know how to do that?"
Jubilee turned, full of righteous indignation, but started laughing at the smirk on Rogue's face. "Okay, fine. I'll give you that one. And yes, I do know how to boil water. I'm not that domestically-inept."
After a few minutes, Rogue checked on the chicken. She turned it, pleased with the brown crust on the underside. "Good, good. Glad to know I haven't lost the Williams touch."
Jubilee frowned. She was still stirring the water, and Rogue hadn't the heart to tell her that it would boil faster if she left it alone. "Thought your last name started with a ÔD'. It's always M. Rogue D. on your official papers."
Rogue nodded. "It does." She continued to flip the chicken, then replaced the lid. "Williams is my mom's maiden name. All the women in her family make fabulous fried chicken and gravy. Papa's family is Spanish, so I can make a mean tamale too." She sat back down. "That boilin' yet?"
Jubilee looked down at the water. "No. Hey, Rogue," she said after a pause. "Why don't you ever talk about your family? Like, about them as people, not just how you can cook this and that and why you speak Spanish better than Ofelia."
Rogue shrugged from her seat at the table. "They kicked me out. Not much to talk about besides that." Sighing, she pulls her dirty rubber gloves off. "I love my family, I do. But, there's not too much to talk about when they don't love you. It's hard to think about stuff like that. They don't want me, so I try not to want them. It's easier that way, you know?"
Jubilee nodded. "Oh! It's boiling!" She measured out the correct amount of potato flakes and added them to the water. Happily she stirred them around for several seconds before remembering that she was supposed to remove them from the heat and cover them. "Oops." After setting them on the back burner, she sat next to Rogue. "I guess I understand," she murmured, finally replying to Rogue's earlier comments. "I know my parents still love me, since I was the one that ran out on them. But I think they were secretly kind of glad to see me go. It's hard in Chinatown when your kid's a mutant."
"I think it's hard everywhere," Rogue answered softly. She stood, a timer in her head going off, and stepped quickly to the stove. She removed the lid, then tested a breast for doneness. "Perfect," she muttered under her breath. She stacked the finished chicken on a waiting plate, then poured most of the remaining fat into an empty soup can. Jubilee watched, fascinated, as her friend added an unspecified amount of flour to the skillet, and stirred it vigorously with a fork. "Jubes, can you grab me the gallon of whole milk from the fridge, please?"
Jubilee did so, then stood next to Rogue, watching over her shoulder. "What's this?"
"Makin' gravy, silly. Can't have fried chicken and mashed potatoes without gravy!" She poured a good quarter of the gallon into the skillet, continually stirring with the fork. Jubilee watched, fascinated, as the mixture magically thickened.
"Whoa, that's cool."
Rogue grinned. "A roux is the base for all the best sauces. Flour and fat, then add liquid: milk, stock, wine, whatever." She lifted the skillet and poured the gravy into a waiting bowl, scooping the extra out with a rubber spatula. "Get your potatoes, and call the rest down. Hungry as I am, we can't eat this all by ourselves."
Jubilee smiled and ran upstairs, calling for Bobby, John, Kitty and Piotr. She knew a bunch more would show up once the smell wafted through the mansion, but she was anxious to get at least some of it for herself.
END
Summary: Rogue talks family and makes lunch
Prompt: Lunch
Characters: Rogue, Jubilee
Word Count: 1251
Author's Note: Background taken from what I wrote for fandom_tropolis. Basically, her father's parents are Spanish, and they kicked her out after the Cody/David incident. Major props to Jen for the awesome beta. (Yes I'm just now posting it.)
"What're you doin' girlfriend?" Jubilee came up behind Rogue, who had just pulled a huge butcher knife from the knife block. She held it tightly in one latex-gloved hand.
Rogue whirled around. "Jesus, Jubes, don't sneak up on a girl like that! ÔSpecially when she's got a knife!" She rolled her eyes at her friend who'd gone white at the sight of the knife. "Oh, don't be scared. You should o' known better."
Jubes laughed. "Yeah, I suppose so." She sat down at the kitchen table. "But really, what're you doin'? Cookin'?" She snapped her gum, watching the other girl bustle around the kitchen.
"Generally that's what a body does when she's in the kitchen, silly. Yes, I am." She grinned, turning the heat up on a wide, deep frying pan. "I'm fryin' chicken. Haven't had a decent fried chicken supper since leavin' Mississippi, and I've been cravin' it lately." She dropped two huge spoonfuls of lard into the pan, and walked back to the counter as they melted.
Jubilee looked disgusted. "Is that lard?"
Rogue raised an eyebrow in a very Logan-like gesture. "It's better for you than that artificially-hydrogenated vegetable oil. That stuff is all unnatural and does awful things to you. Cancer and all that." She turned her back to her friend. She had a frying chicken, defrosted, sitting on a cutting board. Using the heel of her hand, she splayed it out, then used the big knife to cut down the center of its back. "You ever fried chicken before, Jubes?"
It was Jubilee's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Come on, Roguey. My parent's are Chinese, and we don't get fried chicken on the streets. Closest I got is KFC."
Rogue continued to cut up the chicken, slicing off appendages with practiced skill. "That ain't fried chicken. You know they use mutant chickens with five legs there?" She turned and winked.
"Uh huh. I bet if they did, the Prof would be all over their ass, and we'd have a hundred five legged chickens Ôround the mansion." Jubilee popped her gum, then started drumming her fingers on the table.
"If you're bored," Rogue offered with a grin, "you can start peelin' potatoes for mashin'." She pulled out a bag of spuds from under the sink and plopped them on the table in front of Jubilee. "Here you go. Knife or peeler?"
Jubilee stared at the potatoes. "You're jokin' right? I don't know how to peel potatoes! Hell, I don't think I've ever seen one that hasn't been cooked before!"
By this time, Rogue was turned back to the counter, dropping chicken parts into a mixture of eggs and buttermilk. "Jubes, I'm kiddin'. Instant potatoes are in the cabinet above the sink." Once all the chicken pieces were covered in the liquid, Rogue mixed up some white flour, salt and pepper in a pie pan. Coating the chicken completely in the flour, she readied them for the grease. "I'm not lettin' you eat unless you help, so get to it Jubilee!"
Groaning, the girl stood up and started rummaging through the cabinet Rogue indicated. "Boiling water, butter and potato flakes. Sounds easy enough. Even I can't mess this up." At Rogue's grin, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, I probably could, but it'd be hard. And I'm going to try not to, okay?"
Rogue dropped the chicken carefully into the hot lard. She backed off as each one hit the pan, avoiding the spatters. "You'll do fine." Once all the pieces were in, she rearranged them a bit, then put on the lid. She took the seat Jubes had vacated, supervising her potato-making efforts. "You gotta boil the water first, sugah. You know how to do that?"
Jubilee turned, full of righteous indignation, but started laughing at the smirk on Rogue's face. "Okay, fine. I'll give you that one. And yes, I do know how to boil water. I'm not that domestically-inept."
After a few minutes, Rogue checked on the chicken. She turned it, pleased with the brown crust on the underside. "Good, good. Glad to know I haven't lost the Williams touch."
Jubilee frowned. She was still stirring the water, and Rogue hadn't the heart to tell her that it would boil faster if she left it alone. "Thought your last name started with a ÔD'. It's always M. Rogue D. on your official papers."
Rogue nodded. "It does." She continued to flip the chicken, then replaced the lid. "Williams is my mom's maiden name. All the women in her family make fabulous fried chicken and gravy. Papa's family is Spanish, so I can make a mean tamale too." She sat back down. "That boilin' yet?"
Jubilee looked down at the water. "No. Hey, Rogue," she said after a pause. "Why don't you ever talk about your family? Like, about them as people, not just how you can cook this and that and why you speak Spanish better than Ofelia."
Rogue shrugged from her seat at the table. "They kicked me out. Not much to talk about besides that." Sighing, she pulls her dirty rubber gloves off. "I love my family, I do. But, there's not too much to talk about when they don't love you. It's hard to think about stuff like that. They don't want me, so I try not to want them. It's easier that way, you know?"
Jubilee nodded. "Oh! It's boiling!" She measured out the correct amount of potato flakes and added them to the water. Happily she stirred them around for several seconds before remembering that she was supposed to remove them from the heat and cover them. "Oops." After setting them on the back burner, she sat next to Rogue. "I guess I understand," she murmured, finally replying to Rogue's earlier comments. "I know my parents still love me, since I was the one that ran out on them. But I think they were secretly kind of glad to see me go. It's hard in Chinatown when your kid's a mutant."
"I think it's hard everywhere," Rogue answered softly. She stood, a timer in her head going off, and stepped quickly to the stove. She removed the lid, then tested a breast for doneness. "Perfect," she muttered under her breath. She stacked the finished chicken on a waiting plate, then poured most of the remaining fat into an empty soup can. Jubilee watched, fascinated, as her friend added an unspecified amount of flour to the skillet, and stirred it vigorously with a fork. "Jubes, can you grab me the gallon of whole milk from the fridge, please?"
Jubilee did so, then stood next to Rogue, watching over her shoulder. "What's this?"
"Makin' gravy, silly. Can't have fried chicken and mashed potatoes without gravy!" She poured a good quarter of the gallon into the skillet, continually stirring with the fork. Jubilee watched, fascinated, as the mixture magically thickened.
"Whoa, that's cool."
Rogue grinned. "A roux is the base for all the best sauces. Flour and fat, then add liquid: milk, stock, wine, whatever." She lifted the skillet and poured the gravy into a waiting bowl, scooping the extra out with a rubber spatula. "Get your potatoes, and call the rest down. Hungry as I am, we can't eat this all by ourselves."
Jubilee smiled and ran upstairs, calling for Bobby, John, Kitty and Piotr. She knew a bunch more would show up once the smell wafted through the mansion, but she was anxious to get at least some of it for herself.
END
home > fiction > fried chicken
Images and characters from movies, television shows, or books are © their respective owners and used without permission. I am not affiliated with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Stan Lee, Marvel, Tim Minear, 20th Century Fox, Laurell K. Hamilton, the estate of C.S. Lewis, Eric Kripke, CBS/NBC/ABC, WB/UPN/CW, or any other big company that owns or the actors that play the characters I love. Please don't sue. All original content and design are © Kari. I've worked very hard on this, so please don't steal.