![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mrua7.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
section7mfu2019-07-22 11:59 am
"Hungarian Goulash" for the Shot Affair 7/22/19
Challenge: The Short Affair
-Prompt Word 1 - Food
-Prompt Word 2 – Haze
-Prompt Colour – Silver
Author: mrua7
Title: ‘Hungarian goulash "
Word count: Approx. 1000
Illya Kuryakin decided after finishing his paperwork, to head out from headquarters for more appetizing food than what was being offered in the Commissary.
Cookie the resident chef, if one could call him that, was accustomed to feeding military personnel. He could manage quantity but the quality of his meal preparation left much to be desired. That said a lot if Kuryakin, who would usually eat anything, turned up his nose at Cookie’s menu for the day.
There was tuna surprise with gelatin, jellied lamb salad which consisted of lamb cutlets and green beans placed in the bottom of a dish and coated in the gelatin. Then another layer of meat, carrots, tomatoes, peppers, and eggs to laid out in a pattern. The remaining gelatin was poured over the food and allowed to set. The whole thing was served cold.
There was also summer salad pie which was basically a salad trapped inside lemon flavored gelatin. Dessert was a disaster Cookie called a Californian Jello Ring that was made from unflavored gelatin, prunes, and lemon juice.
The operative word here was gelatin, something most field agents found to be vile, especially when it was of the green variety served as the only meal while an injured Section II agent was confined to medical.
It had a purpose, and that was to help make sure there was no internal bleeding, but it was God-awful to eat.
Kuryakin was notorious for throwing it across the room, sometimes at some unsuspecting nurse.
Illya could have had a sandwich for lunch, those were something Cookie couldn’t massacre but he just wasn’t in the mood for that. Besides, the Commissary was filled with a haze of smoke from something having been burned in the kitchen.
Napoleon was out of town on assignment, India he heard, the Russian was on his own as he headed out to eat alone.
He didn’t want Chinese, Thai, or even Italian but for some reason he had a craving for Hungarian.
That meant a trip to Yorkville were eateries side by side on 86th street specialized in Germanic, Czech and Hungarian food, and though he’d have to take a cab to get there, he knew it would be well worth it.
Illya arrived at the Budapest Café and Restaurant, its silver and gold sign glistening in the afternoon sunlight.
After paying the fare, he paused, breathing in the delicious aromas that wafted out to the street.
Once inside he was quickly seated as the place wasn’t very busy since it was past lunchtime. Illya knew what he wanted and that was goulash along with an order of stuffed cabbage. For dessert he selected gesztenyepüré.
It was a simple dish consisting of a mixture of pureed chestnuts flavored with rum and vanilla and pressed through a potato ricer to make thin chestnut noodles that would be topped with whipped cream.
His meal was quickly served, though the waiters seemed impressed at the amount of food that had been ordered for just one skinny man.
Illya could hear their whispers as they took bets as to whether he could eat it all or not; this he found quite amusing.
A woman suddenly emerging from the kitchen caught his eye; it was none other than Tavia Sandor.
“Illya, I knew it had to be you when the waiters said a skinny blond had ordered enough food for two, but it would be eaten only by him.”
He rose, wiping his mouth with his napkin and greeted her with a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“Tavia, it is wonderful to see you again. I did not know you were back in New York.”
He and the woman had a brief relationship when she’d been pulled into an affair involving killer bees who were trained to devour a special brand of Cumberly honey used to control them. They were part of yet another bizarre and failed THRUSH plan to destroy UNCLE.
Tavia left the shop where she sold all sorts of honey, moving on to become a dance instructress but things ended between she and Illya when she was forced to return to Hungary to see to her ailing father.
Illya and Tavia lost touch after that.
She seated herself at Illya’s table just as the dessert was served.
“Care to join me?” He cast a shy smile as he pointed to the dessert.
“But of course,” she turned to one of the waiters who brought her an extra spoon and napkin. ‘It’s my favorite.”
Her voice was as he remembered it, breathy...dulcet and seductive.”
“Illya you look well.”
“As do you. How is your father?”
“Sadly he passed away; I only returned earlier this year and meant to contact you, but I have been so busy here.”
“Here as in this restaurant?”
“Yes, my father left me a bit of money and when I returned to New York, I bought this place. It’s doing very well.”
“I can see why as the food is perfection, as is the owner.”
“Why thank you Illya, that is very kind of you to say,” she blushed at his compliments.
“I understand about being busy. I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch with you. Tavia, would you be free this evening to get together? It would be good to see you in a more private setting where we could catch up with each other.”
“Oh Illya I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” She held up her right hand, flashing a yellow gold band.”
“Oh,” Kuryakin blanched,” Congratulations. Is your husband Hungarian?”
“Yes he’s the chef here. We became reacquainted back in Budapest and have known each other since we were young.”
“Please give him my compliments and congratulations as well.” Illya looked at his watch, suddenly noting the time.”Hmmm, I must get back to headquarters.”
He signalled for the waiter to bring his check.
“No no, my treat. Owner’s prerogative.” Tavia rose from her seat.“It was lovely to see you.” It was her turn to give him a chaste peck on the cheek.
“Köszönöm az ételt,” he thanked her for the meal in Hungarian.
Illya quickly exited the restaurant, feeling a bit dejected. He liked Tavia a lot, more than he should have when they had their fling. He knew he had no right to feel the way he did as he should have stayed in touch with her. He should have just been happy for her success and marriage.
He’d forgotten how much he’d been attracted to her and decided this would be the last time he’d come to her restaurant.
Why rub salt into a wound?”
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject