1964-12-27 - Oh, for the love of Latkes!
Summary: Cash, cabs, and guns… and latkes. That was what was good in life right?
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
yuliya isidore jp elmo 


It was a couple days post-reindeer appearance with the gifty guy in the red suit down in Mutant Town. Who didn't like pressies though? It was insisted that Yuliya come join them at Eight Ball so she could be introduced to Western foods as she asked, and the crazy Cajun was happy to facilitate on someone else's dime. But lo' there was a greaser in a white t-shirt and a chef's apron looking like he was making the Fonz proud. Did he even work there?!


Why does Yuliya spend time around mutants? It could be that she's using them to hide from something, or simply that she might feel more accepted than in other areas. Well, usually the massive bouncer would have been a reason for her to avoid the hall, but with someone vouching for her has seen her get in. She's dressed in her business attire again, and it seems that she's just finished work. She might not have realised that she's got a little smear of soot on the side of her face from one of her earlier onsite investigations. She makes her way towards the bar and orders herself something strong and alcoholic before she takes the time to study the inside of the bar and the people in it.


Isidore isn't a fixture in the bar, but he's around mutant town enough to be known. Around here, it's not really a secret that he's a fellow mutant of some kind. He helps folks out now and then, and it's known you can call him when things get dangerous. Happily, nothing seems dangerous at the moment, save some adventurous cuisine choices. He sweeps in from the front door, pausing to light up a cigarette before beginning his own once-over of tonight's clientele.


Elmo is a brand new baby mutant and this is the first time he's been here. He tells the bouncer Gearhead invited him, which gets him in. When he comes in through the smoky haze, he's looking narrowly from side to side, a weather eye for anybody deciding a tiny longhair is a good target. But this is a mutant place, and nobody even cares.


JP wasn't known, and while outside his appearance was warning enough to others like the red plumage on a cardinal that broadcast 'Warning: volatile sunnova bitch' here everyone had their 'thing' and generally the bouncers helped keep things decently amicable, well, until a game of pool got out of hand. Looking up a Sharp whistle got enough attention and the grease monkey waved a hand like 'come here' which could be interpreted by anyone as an invite. Seeing Izzy's cig his hand went to his sleeve. Damn. Out. JP would have to do without for now. Gregarious to a fault the scrappy mechanic pointed with two fingers to Yuliya and then to a stooland a heads up to Elmo. "Elmo? You remember Ms. Yuliya. hmm? And dat dere?" He squint to Isidore, "Maaaay be my new best friend shortly. Hey, you got a spare there, mon ami? Trade to with a stack of pancakes, yeah?" Apparently he's not let the pancakes go.


"Spasibo," Yuliya offers to the bartender in Russian as she takes the drink, and then she sniffs it cautiously for a moment before taking a sip. It must be strong, as she closes her eyes and shakes her head for a moment, before giving a content sigh. She offers a wave to JP when she spots him, before her attention shifts towards Isidore. However she does make her way towards the mechanic and Elmo. "Yuliya will do," she offers at the way of introductions. "Miss Yuliya, it makes me feel like I am getting in trouble by my father."


There's a moment where Izzy squints at the talkative greaser, but that passes pretty quickly. The cherry in his cancer stick brightens as he heads over, pausing to exhale and tap in a nearby ashtray before coming to a stop nearby JP. Well, struts might be more accurate — he walks like a man genuinely at ease here. Elmo and Yuliya both get a long and detailed looking over before he turns his attention back to JP. When he speaks, the Brooklyn is pretty thick. "I'll trade for pancakes." Out comes his pack, and he taps one loose for JP to snag out of the box of them. "Need a light, too? That'll cost extra." He grinsmirks a bit.


Elmo's body language is twitchy and defensive, shoulders tight, hands deep in pockets. "Hey, JP, buddy," he says. "Yeah, I remember Yuliya." Which he pronounces correctly, and he nods to her. Isidore giving him a long look over gets a narrow lookover in turn, Elmo not being subtle at all about sizing him up.


JP was used to life on the haggle, "Careful, mon ami, I like a good challenge. You got a light though tha'd be killer." A glance slid back to Yuliya, paused, and nodded. He sure as hell wasn't going to let anyone use his full name and seemed to find htis a reasonable request. "Yoooolia. Can do." He looked up tot eh Bouncer and waved a hand that wasn't waiting for the cig, "Is cool, he's with us." He nodded to Izzy and then Yuliya turning to Elmo curious, "Flapjacks?" Still he was grateful enough for the cig and had to ask, "You got a name or we jsut call you Cowboy cause of tha' cigs?" every gathering needed a cowboy and the firestarter could pass for having the walk. Why not?


Yuliya takes another sip from her glass, as she considers the look from Isidore and then offers a friendly smile, as after all, she's most likely the one of place in the bar. JP's slang earns him an uncertain look from her, before she glances back towards Isidore and then Elmo. "Thank you," she then adds in English to JP's comment about not calling her Miss. However she does titter at the cowboy comment.


Isidore offers the cigarette to JP. "Nah, I ain't no cowboy, just a guy with some quarters." His cigarette dangles from his crooked grin as he produces a matchbook with a flourish. Yuliya gets a wink, and Elmo a nod, before he returns his attention to JP. "Call me Izzy. Works for me." He looks the room over once more before returning his attention to the people standing with him.


Elmo untenses a little. A /little/. All this politeness might be a trap. He raises eyebrows at JP, a reluctant half smile appearing. "Flapjacks, whaddabout em?" Like Isidore, he has a hyperlocalized accent, Lower East Side. He gets out his own smokes.


JP took the cig and the match with a nod. A scratch from Gearhead's thumbnail brought the tiny stick to light and he lit it, but extended it out to Elmo who, if he was quick, could light his off that too. He took a drag off the cig and boggled at Elmo, "Fekkin makin fekkin flapjacks." He boggled at him like that's what that whole one word always means, but let it go. "So Yuliya here's never eaten… most anyhting good and I tried to 'borrow' the skillet but I figured wha the hell. If they'll let me use it I'll put in some time on it, so what. Kinda… don't like stealin from our own." He exhaled a ring of smoke with a one shoulder shrug, "And pretty sure I'd break my knife if I tried to fight Daire for it so might as well help out right?" Never being a knife to a gargoyle fight, kids.


"You have a quarter of what, and if you have four does that mean you have a whole?" Yuliya asks innocently, still in that Russian accent of hers as she plays clueless. She takes another sip again, and then considers her glass before glancing up at the mention of flapjacks. She then frowns a little at JP, and then laughs softly. "I cannot find borscht. Also the kolbasa here is not good, and you use thick bread that wraps around it with red and yellow sauce. Is still better than gruel." She has a haunted look on her face as she shakes her head. "Anything is better than gruel."


Tucking his cigs away, Izz takes another drag and taps his ash in a nearby tray. "You wanna feed her somethin' good? Latkes. Can't ever go wrong with latkes." He swivels his gaze to look over at Yuliya, and grins. "Quarter dollar. Two bits. Get four of 'em, you got a buck." He pauses. "Dollar." A bit of a shrug and he lifts his brows. "No borscht? You're lookin' in the wrong place, sister. My neighborhood, we make a mean borscht, best kishke, and syrniki until you explode." He grins and stamps his cigarette out in the tray, "And I feel ya on the gruel."


Elmo is in fact quick and gets the light. He laughs under his breath at JP. "Yeah, silly me, huh?" Looking at Yuliya, he asks, "You never had a pancake? Ain't that just, like, standard food?" And then Isidore comes swooping in with the Jewish food and Elmo gives him a totally shocked, then totally delighted look. "/Latkes/, that's what we gotta do here!"


JP crossed his arms over his chest nd listened curiously. THere was a drag off his cig with a squint and he thought about that one. Finally he shook his head twice, "Dunno what a latkes is, but you find JP this recipie, we can make latkes happen." He seemed pretty confident in this or at least was willing to learn. He looked to Yuliya and arched an eyebrow, "I learning yous gotta learn too, sous chef." The Cajun kid admitted, "Dunno what that is but I trust you. We got our own crazy foods things here need more… I dunno excitement. You bite into things in New York your face no try to melt at all." Which alone was a damn shame.


"Oh, I am still getting used to the dollar. I am still getting used to it," Yuliya admits sheepishly. "But I will get used to it. Also, I will have to find out what area you live in, so I can try some of these foods. It sounds like it could be good to have a proper meal." At the question about pancakes, she shakes her head. "I am not familiar with the word. A panned cake is a flatjack?" she asks of Elmo before glancing towards JP. "Consider yourself lucky you do not know. Why do you want to eat things that make your face melt?" A pause and it seems she understands French. "Under-chef? I guess I am here."


Isidore offers Elmo a nod. "Hell yeah, we do." JP gets a similar nod. "I can probably make that happen. Gonna be the best day that pan ever saw, trust me." He eyes the food expectantly, waiting for the chef to make good on his end of the deal. When Yuliya addresses him, he asides to her, "Brooklyn." he sniffs once, then adds, "You go to the south, you'll want your face to melt too, just you see." His smirk is back in place.


"Potatoes, onion, coupla eggs, bit a' flour." Elmo provides the recipe. "Fry 'em up in some oil. Easy as." Now he's enthusiastic about the impromptu cooking lesson. He shrugs at Yuliya. "It's a …cake? That's inna pan? Yeah, that's about right. Listen, if you're not eating right, you gotta come around on Friday night to my auntie's house. She'll feed you up."


JP seemed to speak food with at least half of the aptitude he spoke parts and pieces. Hey he was rough around hte edges but this idea appealed to him. "We get the stuff for this in Brooklyn or anywhere?" JP considered this too with a rough hand across stubble jaw that went unshaved for two days. He ashed the cig into the metal ashtray "C'est comme une crepe mais depliee et plus epaisse." He offered to the Russian woman since she was picking up on the French jsut fine, adn frankly that was much easier for him. Shit he even sounded fucking eloquent somehow inspite of his best efforts. He summed up for the New Yorkers, "Fat unfolded crepe. avec du sirop." His thumb gestured like pouring syrup over top.


"I will have to visit, and try the meals there when I am not in the mood to cook," Yuliya admits to Isidore. "I will just avoid the face melting South." She seems a little confused, but nods anyway. Her gaze then shifts towards Elmo, and she nods. "Oh, blini! Yes, I know it now. Like crepes in France, da?" The words just leave her mouth as JP speaks, and she glances towards him. "Oh merci. Maintenant je sais ce que c'est, %<231>a me facilite beaucoup la t%<226>che<" she replies to the French speaking man. "I moved to France before coming here," she offers as way of explanation.


Isidore lifts his brows as the conversation gets all French. He gives Elmo a sideways look and shrugs, lips turning up slightly. "And of course everyone's got their own twist on it. Squeeze, don't squeeze, pan, griddle.." The figers of one hand wave about as he ends the sentence. He considers something for a moment before sticking a finger under the pan, as if to check and see if the burner is actually hot and lit. Yuliya gets a nod. "Yeah, there's a lot of people down there that ain't gonna like the way you talk. Best to steer clear unless you got a thing going down there."


"Ya gotta squeeze," Elmo says, like this is obvious. "Gets 'em crispier." Isidore gets an amused sideways look back. "Yeah," he tells JP, "the grill here has gotta have potatoes and onions. That and a box grater, we're in business."


JP mulled this over and ashed the cig again. The notice to Yuliya given by Izzy about the south side of the city was taken in with interest. Finally he looked to Elmo and said, "You said your auntie makes these things? We should visit. You boys show me what it's supposed to look like. We talk to Daire here about gettin thi on the menu. Hell, maybe JP gets himself a real job. Wonder if they take peppers at all. Have to find out." Because Chef JP could find a way to melt the rust off a bumper with hot peppers and seasoning; why not a latke?


It takes Yuliya a few moments, but she did hear Elmo's offer. "I will think about it. Going to your aunt's for dinner sounds more interesting than my current dinner arrangements." She purses her lips and looks thoughtful at the comments about lemon on crepes. "I will remember not to go there then," she says in agreement to Isidore. "If I need to go though, I will be extremely careful." She then pauses for a moment as if considering something. "If work needs me to do an assessment on a building, I wouldn't have a choice though."


Izz pulls his fingers away from the pan and rubs them together, none the worse for wear. He nods to Yuliya and adds, "Yeah, you gotta do what you gotta do." Elmo gets a knowing chuckle. "That's *if* you can wring the recipe out of 'em anyway. Pretty sure mine're only gonna get passed down when somebody dies." JP gets a finger , pointing him out. "Yeah, you get that going, and you're gonna have your work cut out for ya."


JP considered this and cracked a wry grin, "Probably safer than robbin a bank too. Elmo, let us know when. Izzy, you got digits we can hunt you down at?" Because this would take coordination but Latkes were apparently happening and the Cajun seemed hell bent on learning this mystery because hey, cash, cabs, and guns… and latkes. That was what was good in life right?


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