The Quintessential Quintuplets: Marching Forward

Chapter Seven: Soufflé

~Miku~

The clanging of stainless-steel bowls and wooden spoons filled the silence inside an industrial-size kitchen during yet another hot, cloudy summer day. Outside, the summer heat and oppressive humidity quickly drained the energy of the average commuter. Inside, Miku's workstation was not much better. The air was hot from the two large-capacity ovens that had been on since the morning and thick with the scent of powdered sugar and flour.

"So that's two hundred grams of sugar, then one hundred grams of flour, two eggs, two ramekins... what else?" Miku recited the recipe out loud and carefully assembled her ingredients. She was on her third attempt, and her brow was slick with sweat from working on the same recipe all day with Nino looking over her shoulder.

She recited each step, delicately brushing the inside of a pair of ramekins with melted butter, being extra careful to get the whole wall, then dusting the interior with sweetened cocoa powder.

Step one, Check.

Next, Miku melted butter on low heat, whisking the flour in slowly until the butter fully liquified, and both ingredients were mixed into a brownish slush inside the small saucepan. When the texture was just right, she gently added the cold milk.

"The milk must be cold slowly to avoid lumps in your roux," she remembered Nino telling her once during her many scolding sessions.

Step two. Check.

Miku gently stirred the newly formed béchamel sauce, hoping it was the right consistency. Next was the chocolate. Wait, Where was the chocolate?

She scanned the long marble table of ingredients, finally spotting it on the far end of her workstation. Miku stretched over the table, inching herself closer with her fingertips. Just beyond her reach.

Nino noticed her struggling from across the table and lightly pushed the chocolate closer.

"Thanks, Nino," Miku said, standing upright.

Nino stifled a laugh.

"What's the matter?" Miku asked.

"Your apron."

Miku glanced down. She had forgotten that Nino had liberally dusted their workstation with flour from a pasta prep earlier in the day. The flour had matted together perfectly to the contours of her midsection, all the way down her apron.

"It's a good look on you, Miku," Nino teased. "You know? They say you should dust your entire work surface with flour before baking, but I think you're taking it too far."

Miku stared, deadpan. "Shut up."

"This isn't even the first time it's happened to you!" Can you relax? If you keep sweating like that, some of it will get in your roux and ruin the whole thing."

"You're one to talk! You only got this recipe right once!"

"That's because I only needed one time," Nino bragged.

"The instructor said it had no flavor!"

Nino rolled her eyes. "It's a soufflé! It's mostly air anyway. Air doesn't have flavor."

Miku shot her sister a dirty look. She loved her sister, but it was times like these she wished she was kneading dough instead. Miku knew exactly whose face she'd imagine squishing into the dough.

"It's fine," Nino said. "A year ago, I wouldn't even think of leaving you alone with an open flame, let alone making a soufflé. You've improved so quickly!" She joined Miku's side of the prep aisle. "Here, I'll help you separate the egg whites for the meringue. It's useful to start the beating process by hand before moving on to the mixer. You get more control that way."