I've
just dug this out of my notebook: I wrote it a couple of weeks ago at Writers Connect.
Between the group of three, we had a sheet of paper each. We first
wrote a character and age, then folded this back and handed the sheet
to the next writer. On the next sheet we wrote a place. On the final
sheet we wrote an activity, something the character is doing. With a
final pass, we now had our scenario. I had Algernon Fauntleroy, a
12-year-old boy in Edinburgh Castle, and he's cooking.
He
sharpens the knife and plunges it through the chicken, hacking off
the bottom of the legs and eviscerating the spine. There is no adult
to help him. Algernon Faunlteroy grips the bird by the outer sides and
pushes his thumbs over the gaping wound in the bird's back,
flattening it down. The collarbone snaps, echoing off the stone walls
of the castle.
Edinburgh
Council had assisted in funding the new kitchen, unblemished steel
surfaces nestling up to the exposed uneven stones of the old castle
walls.
It's
really only instruction-following, he knows; anyone can do it. He
carefully slices grooves into the skinless chicken, and firmly smears
the marinade deep into the wounds, the extractor fans leaving only
the faint odour of traditional Indian spices. Another contrast to the
Gaelic setting. The walls slick with condensation, the castle kept
the cold Edinburgh air out.
The
Hairy Dieters Cookbook, something I've been dabbling with for a few
years now, inspired the detail. I cooked masala-marinated chicken,
a recipe from the book, some years ago now, and what I could remember
found it's way in.
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