"The Joys of Cooking in Pink"

[Guest TroNoQ]

Tro'NoQ sat in his chair at the edge of the recreation area, happily sipping the delicately pink champagne as he watched his patients -- his crew; his friends.

 

Setting down his glass, the Klingon qel smiled. His hand reaching for the open box of pink caramels (his own treat of choice, but not the shipwide favorite), his mind wandered to the daycare full of the sweet little children which seemed the cherry on top of the cake of life. He'd have to pay them a visit soon and deliver the treats to their welcoming little hands. He really hadn't been around them enough lately, what with having to send the little Elasian down as delivery-boy. Koshic never did seem to appreciate the darlings as much as he could have... but then again, one never could tell with his delusional self-proclaimed "Lord Regent".

 

It would be another cooking day tomorrow. He'd given out all of his best bubble-gum, strawberry, and watermelon suckers at their little promenade. Jell-O wrestling hadn't been the thing of the night -- trampolines were what the in-crowd had elected for that evening -- so he could hold onto that supply, at least for the time being. Candies and treats, however...

 

He still remembered the first time he'd made such goodies. Must have been seven or eight, a small little qel-ling who'd just made his first diagnosis ... on himself. Gone running to grandmother with the old herbal remedy he'd dredged out of the family's "Archaic Witch-Medicine" guide for the cough he'd come down with. Of course, Mother and Father had claimed that he'd inhaled some of his bubble-gum soda down the windpipe, but even then, Tro'NoQ had known better. Something so much more serious than what they had innocently-but-mistakenly took his wheezing for. Lordy, he still took the taga root for what he just knew was consumption. The old lung rot came back once in a while when he drank his beverages too fast, but the taga still did its work well.

 

Mmm... brain back on track. No need to focus on his ailments, at least not when he wasn't in Medication Hour. Grandmother had taken his mind off that first bout with a special activity for that afternoon. Instead of helping her knit, Tro'NoQ could help her bake something special -- green-frosted donuts! Eventually, obviously, his taste in color improved, but he could still trace his culinary mastery back to that fateful date at Grandmother's.

 

Mind jumping back to the present, he pulled out a padd, jotting a few quick notes on ingrediential matters. Very good indeed -- he'd start bright and early next morning with a batch of pink-frosted cupcakes. Yippee for cooking! Yippee for Qob! Yippee for pink!