Page 17 of Dragons & Dumplings

"It's good." I put my spoon down and use his to get some more of it, holding it out to him.

He leans in and eats the mix off the end of the spoon, nodding a couple of times. "That's going to be great hot."

"And surrounded by fluffiness," I respond, thinking about the ones we tried earlier. I hope ours are just as good. Or maybe better.

Nate clears away the dishes while I prepare the egg wash.

"My father has been talking about sorting me out an apprenticeship again," Nate says after a moment.

"Where?"

"Gaullesse."

I turn around and look at him. "Gaullesse?"

"Yes. It's where he did his apprenticeship, so I think that he wants me to go there too so I can learn some of the same skills."

A lump forms in my throat. "I see." Why do I feel like I want to cry? It's not as if I didn't know this could be a possibility, most of the apprentices in the kitchens have gone somewhere else for a year or two.

"I want to tell him I can't go," Nate says, taking me by surprise.

"What? Don't be ridiculous, you have to go." My voice cracks as I say the words.

He frowns. "You want me to?"

"I don't want you to leave," I say quietly. "You're my friend, and I'd miss you. But that doesn't mean I should stand in the way of you progressing your career."

A strange look passes over his face, but I'm really not sure what to make of it. "You're just saying that because you want me to bring back recipes."

"That hadn't even crossed my mind," I promise. And it's the truth. "Though now you mention it..."

He laughs. "It's not even a done deal yet, so let's not worry about it." He grabs the tray of buns from the top of the oven and sets them down on the bench. "We should egg wash these, then we can put them in the oven."

I nod, accepting that the conversation is over. To some extent, he's right. If there are no actual plans, then it isn't something we need to worry about.

"Your impatience is nearly at an end," Nate promises as he takes the egg-washed buns and slides them into the oven. "You only have to wait for ten minutes now."

"And for us to glaze the buns," I remind him, not wanting to forget the final step. I'm sure we could go without it if we needed to, but I don't want to skip a single step in the recipe.

"Ah, yes. Will you grab the honey?" He hands me a small bowl so I can put some in.

The room fills with the scent of baking bread. My mouth waters, and I can't wait to taste what we've created.

"You ready?" Nate asks as he grabs the oven cloth and pulls open the door.

A waft of steam fills the room, along with the heat from the flames at the back of the oven. Carefully, he pulls out the tray filled with twelve beautifully golden brown buns. He slips themonto the table, and I quickly use the pastry brush to cover them all in the honey glaze. They glisten in the light of the kitchen, looking even more inviting than they did before.

I finish with the glaze and look at them longingly. I know they're going to be a little bit too hot for me to eat right this second, but I definitely want to.

"Want me to cut one open?" Nate asks, knowing exactly what I'm doing.

"Or tear it. That feels more like how they should be eaten."

He nods and picks one up, digging his fingers into it and tearing the bun in half. Steam rises from within and the dark red pork filling spills out. I commit the sight to memory so that I can draw it in my journal tomorrow.

"All right, I'm ready to try it," I say, standing up and getting one of the buns for myself. The bread is springy to touch, but beautifully golden and a little crisp on top. It's perfect for what the recipe says it needs to be.

I can't help tearing mine open too, even if I could just take a bite instead. The bread pulls apart easily and I pop it into my mouth. "Mmm, that's good."

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