Post by The Doctor plus one on May 13, 2008 15:29:26 GMT -5
Tuesday, March 23rd 1880
Oden! It had been a while since she had cooked one of those. Sensei was a great doctor, but he was totally useless a cook, thus O-Suzu did the cooking as well. Oden, which was pretty much a hot pot filled with soup or water used to cook all sort of things -meat, fish, vegetables, etc- , was something she'd never thought she'd miss. Ironically it wasn't really an old or traditional dish either. Carrying a basket full of fresh ingredients she had just left the Chinese quarter. The only ones, who seemed to have what she wanted, were the Chinese immigrants. So far so good. The problem, however, was that O-Suzu didn't speak Chinese. Not a single word. And many of the Chinese in Lost Haven didn't speak English. Luckily the Chinese letters were very familiar for her, after all Japanese used the same. So, she finally had gotten her fresh vegetables, and even the meat. She had decided to go for a more traditional way of dealing with meat, and -personally- she disliked the way the Americans treated it. What was it with those steaks being partly raw? Disgusting. Even worse, the meat usually had blood in it even after cooking. And that blood was then dripping on the plate. Nauseating. O-Suzu had a cultural distaste for blood. Blood was dirty, it polluted. That's why, in the Japan she had grown up in, any business dealing with blood had been done by the outcasts. Ironically O-Suzu had chosen a path that brought her close to human blood, disease and death every day. Though, that was different, or at least so she believed. Bleeding humans were not dead, at least not yet. She had no problems with that part. But she had always refused to deal with the dead.
If anything, the conditions seemed to have worsened. Mainly because those western people were usually not as clean as the Japanese. Even the lowliest peasant in Japan would visit a bath regularly, while those odd cowboys... Oh merciful Buddhas, often they stank against ten miles against the wind!
O-Suzu shook her head. Best not think of that last case. Best to ignore those memories and the eyes that were now watching her. Oh yes, she was an odd thing in those strange clothes with this odd hairstyle. But, it was best to ignore it all for now. It would just ruin her joy of cooking something like oden. Even the doctor liked it. But first... she had to get back to the doctor's office. She had to cook it. O-Suzu left Third Street and moved into Fremont Street. Oh, she knew that area. Usually she would not enter it. This was it, part of the the pleasure quarters, similar to those in Japan. It was the same everywhere. Alcohol in masses in exchange for money. And then, after drinking, one corner away, the place for “horizontal refreshments”. Typical for men, really. Worse yet, sensei sometimes visited this area as well. Though, he would always excuse himself with it being important for business. “I guess he has a point,” O-Suzu muttered to herself as she passed the Old Times Tavern. Still, she loathed alcohol. She had seen what it could do to people.
Shifting the weight of the basket in her arms she finally came up to the Ambrosia Club. There she stopped and looked at the sign. What had the doctor told her? Ambrosia... the food of the gods of Ancient Greece. Ancient Greece, the country of people like Plato, Socrates and Aristotle. So, was this drinking place -and that was all that O-Suzu saw in it- pretending to be some sort of... temple for some ancient gods? Slowly she tilted her head at the sign bearing the name.
Oden! It had been a while since she had cooked one of those. Sensei was a great doctor, but he was totally useless a cook, thus O-Suzu did the cooking as well. Oden, which was pretty much a hot pot filled with soup or water used to cook all sort of things -meat, fish, vegetables, etc- , was something she'd never thought she'd miss. Ironically it wasn't really an old or traditional dish either. Carrying a basket full of fresh ingredients she had just left the Chinese quarter. The only ones, who seemed to have what she wanted, were the Chinese immigrants. So far so good. The problem, however, was that O-Suzu didn't speak Chinese. Not a single word. And many of the Chinese in Lost Haven didn't speak English. Luckily the Chinese letters were very familiar for her, after all Japanese used the same. So, she finally had gotten her fresh vegetables, and even the meat. She had decided to go for a more traditional way of dealing with meat, and -personally- she disliked the way the Americans treated it. What was it with those steaks being partly raw? Disgusting. Even worse, the meat usually had blood in it even after cooking. And that blood was then dripping on the plate. Nauseating. O-Suzu had a cultural distaste for blood. Blood was dirty, it polluted. That's why, in the Japan she had grown up in, any business dealing with blood had been done by the outcasts. Ironically O-Suzu had chosen a path that brought her close to human blood, disease and death every day. Though, that was different, or at least so she believed. Bleeding humans were not dead, at least not yet. She had no problems with that part. But she had always refused to deal with the dead.
If anything, the conditions seemed to have worsened. Mainly because those western people were usually not as clean as the Japanese. Even the lowliest peasant in Japan would visit a bath regularly, while those odd cowboys... Oh merciful Buddhas, often they stank against ten miles against the wind!
O-Suzu shook her head. Best not think of that last case. Best to ignore those memories and the eyes that were now watching her. Oh yes, she was an odd thing in those strange clothes with this odd hairstyle. But, it was best to ignore it all for now. It would just ruin her joy of cooking something like oden. Even the doctor liked it. But first... she had to get back to the doctor's office. She had to cook it. O-Suzu left Third Street and moved into Fremont Street. Oh, she knew that area. Usually she would not enter it. This was it, part of the the pleasure quarters, similar to those in Japan. It was the same everywhere. Alcohol in masses in exchange for money. And then, after drinking, one corner away, the place for “horizontal refreshments”. Typical for men, really. Worse yet, sensei sometimes visited this area as well. Though, he would always excuse himself with it being important for business. “I guess he has a point,” O-Suzu muttered to herself as she passed the Old Times Tavern. Still, she loathed alcohol. She had seen what it could do to people.
Shifting the weight of the basket in her arms she finally came up to the Ambrosia Club. There she stopped and looked at the sign. What had the doctor told her? Ambrosia... the food of the gods of Ancient Greece. Ancient Greece, the country of people like Plato, Socrates and Aristotle. So, was this drinking place -and that was all that O-Suzu saw in it- pretending to be some sort of... temple for some ancient gods? Slowly she tilted her head at the sign bearing the name.