drblackjack
patreon
Alice’s Appetite - The Caucus Race and the Long Tale
🕑 Added 2022-03-29 11:47:45 +0000 UTCPatience was not, in fact, a virtue.
After several long train rides, cart hopping and bicycle rides through the countryside later, Alice and Ryo had found themselves encamped in an underground tunnel of one of Italy’s many cathedrals. It had not taken long for the French authorities to give up on trying to persecute them for Alice’s public nudity misdemeanor but somehow being trapped amidst the shelves of the ancient wine cellar leading to the famous Aldini Trattori had felt like punishment enough.
“Well, at least this beats bread and water…”
While Ryo and the Aldini brothers worked their cover operation up top, Alice was bombarded by the irresistible wafting scent of Italian cooking day in and day out. Her mouth watered as her mind went into overdrive, scientifically taking apart each and every dish served above her to the waiting patrons. She would attempt to construct them in her mind’s eye, formulating newer and more potent recipes which she took careful note of to try on her impending release.
She had to keep herself busy until the day, lest the madness of isolation overcome her.
“Alright, the coast is clear. I think they’ve stopped looking for you.”
Ryo’s words echoed down the musty cellar. After the weeks she had spent in hiding, he had half expected her to burst out of her hideyhold. Bringing her food was the only time he managed to see her and listen to her as she was practically pressed against the wooden latch asking when she would be released. Instead, he was greeted by darkness. He felt his throat suddenly go dry as the possibilities churned in his head as to what could have become of his traveling companion as he slowly descended into the depths.
In the distant dark, a small flame danced amongst the casks of aged wine, strips of preserved and smoked meats and the oaken shelves lined with a variety of spices. Alice was hunched over what appeared to be a tiny portable stove as she consulted the crisp and dry pages of her personal recipe book.
“Hey, I said you could come out now, what on Earth are you-”
Alice held up a lone finger to silence him.
He approached her from the side, watching as she gazed into the bubbling cauldron of ingredients that sizzled away in front of her. Deprived of her scientific gadgets and even the bare basics of a kitchen, she had resorted to cooking with the bare essentials as she gazed into the mix before her.
“It’s almost ready…”
Coda Alla Vaccinara, the most difficult incarnation of oxtail stew, was how she had chosen to occupy her time. A dish which disintegrated if left to cook even a minute longer than needed, was the very essence of doing one’s time. How fitting it was that a meal made famous by prisoners of war would have been at the forefront of her mind. Judging by the number of empty bags of ingredients and the wooden bowls stacked around her, Ryo gathered that it had also been on the tip of her tongue.
“NOW!”
Alice sunk her ladle into the bubbling mix and retrieved herself another bowlful. She spun on her heels and rose to her feet, lab coat twirling amidst the embers of her little stove as she thrust the food towards Ryo while eagerly awaiting his judgment.
But his eyes were elsewhere.
Deprived of sunlight and exercise while being surrounded by food, had a pronounced effect on Alice’s waistline. Even in the dim light, he could see her starting to fill out, giving her an extremely feminine shape that nearly threatened to pour out of her shirt. Where he had expected her to be emaciated and dejected after her weeks of isolation, he had not anticipated how she could have put on so much weight in the darkness. Her thighs bulged as they pressed together with just the slightest pooch of a belly pouring over the top of her waistband as she stood before him with that most fattening culprit in hand.
“Well, what do you think?”
“About thirty pounds?”
“How much is that in Euros? They use Euros here…”
“Maybe 35…”
“I’m not sure I would charge that much, but if the Aldinis want to, then that’s fine by me!”
Ryo robotically stretched out his arms as though attempting to mentally gauge where her waistline was now to where it was before. Alice slipped the bowl between his fingers as she returned to her crouched position and poured herself a serving too. Her task now complete, the prison chef reclined on her side and sampled her stew while making more notes about what she would add next time.
Ryo, stunned by what he had just seen, returned wordlessly back to the surface with stew in hand, vaguely overhearing the word ‘butter’ being repeated over and over again as he pulled the latch back down and left Alice to stew a little longer…
