User blog:Metool Bard/Fanfiction: Daddy's Little Baker

I've been sitting on this next story idea for quite some time, unsure of how to make it work. But with my vacation in London giving me a chance to recharge my batteries and giving me unexpected inspiration, I think I got something solid. Presenting for your delectation, here is:

Daddy's Little Baker
“Let’s see here. Selection of teas: check. Finger sandwiches: check. Scones: check. Butter and jam…”

Lola walked around the table in her room with a clipboard in hand. She kept checking and double-checking every item on her list as she went through every item she had set up. It was no secret that Lola Loud took her tea parties very seriously; perhaps even more seriously than any six-year-old girl had any right to. Even when it was just her and her stuffed animals, she always had to make sure everything was perfect. But even by her standards, the tea party she had set up was quite extravagant. A box of various jars lay open in the center, with all sorts of different teas inside. Three small hourglasses sat next to the box, each with different colored sand. Two multi-layered trivets stood side-by-side, containing an entire assortment of little nibbles. It was unlike any tea party Lola had ever prepared before.

And there was a good reason for that. This particular day happened to be her father’s birthday, and she wanted to do something really special for him. A few days prior, she managed to overhear a conversation between Luna and Chunk regarding a British tradition known as High Tea. After a bit of research (with Luna assisting her with reading some of the more difficult words), she figured this kind of party would be a perfect surprise for Lynn Sr.. And with the blessing of the Loud House’s resident party planner Leni, she got right to work.

It took a lot of shopping, preparation, and a fair bit of her allowance money. But now, Lola’s High Tea Party was pretty much ready to go. All that was left was to make the tea cakes. She turned to her stuffed animals.

“Genevieve, Eunice? Make sure no one disturbs my setup, will you?” she said. “I need to get my baking supplies from downstairs. Be back in a sec~.”

Even though her stuffed animals didn’t respond, Lola waltzed out the door, humming to herself. As she approached the kitchen, she could hear a familiar humming interrupting her own. She stopped dead in her tracks and furrowed her brow.

“That sounds a lot like Daddy when he’s cooking,” she mused. “But that can’t be right. Daddy shouldn’t be cooking on his birthday. And he shouldn’t even be home right now.”

Curious, she tiptoed over to the entryway and peeked into the kitchen. Almost straight away, her eyes went wide. There was Lynn Sr., setting up his usual cooking station while humming and scatting as if it were any other day of the week. Lola felt that she had to say something, but all she could do was stare at him, her mouth agape. After a few seconds, Lynn Sr. noticed her and waved

“Oh! Hey there, sweetie,” he said.

“U-um, hi, Daddy,” Lola said awkwardly. She took a moment to shake herself from the shock. “Uh, how’s your day been?”

Lynn Sr. grinned from ear to ear. “It’s been fantastic, honey. And it’s about to get even better.”

“Better how?”

“I’ve decided to bake my own birthday cake this year.”

Lola did a double take. She wasn’t entirely sure how to process this new information.

“Wait. Y-you’re cooking on your birthday?” she asked. “But you cook for us every day, and you also work so hard at your new restaurant. Don’t you think you deserve a break?”

Lynn Sr. laughed. “I can understand why you’d think that, Lola. But honestly, I don’t mind. Like you said, I cook for everyone else all the time. And while I enjoy doing that, I feel I should treat myself and cook for myself for a change.”

Lola’s mouth open and closed mechanically as she tried to work out a response. On the one hand, Lynn Sr.’s explanation made perfect sense to her. Cooking made her father happy, so of course he should be allowed to cook on his birthday. However, it didn’t change the fact that his plan to treat himself was interfering with her own super special surprise. Her mind worked furiously as she tried to think of a solution.

“W-well, I guess that makes sense,” she conceded. “But still, there’s so much other fun stuff you could do on your birthday. You could play music with Luna, or joke around with Luan, or watch that show you and Lincoln like so much…”

“Yeah, that’s all fun, but it’s stuff I do with you guys every day,” said Lynn Sr.. “I wanna do something a bit different.”

Lola pouted her lips, trying to look incredulous. “You mean cooking? That thing you do for us every day?”

“Cooking for myself,” Lynn Sr. clarified. “Don’t worry, though. I’m sure you guys will love this recipe. Sergei gave it to me as a farewell gift when I left Aloha Comrade to open Lynn’s Table.”

Lola fidgeted a bit, her eyes darting every which way. “Well, what about going to that fancy hotel with Mom? I promise we won’t tag along this time.”

Lynn Sr. shook his head. “That’s a bit outside our budget right now, sweetheart. Besides, your mother and I aren’t allowed at that hotel anymore.”

“O-oh, right. Forgot about that,” Lola groaned, smacking her own forehead. “Dang it.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it, Lola,” said Lynn Sr.. “That’s all in the past now.”

“Y-yeah,” Lola sighed. She kept looking off to the side, rubbing her arm and wracking her brain. Lynn Sr. noticed her discomfort and frowned.

“Hey. Are you okay, sweetie?” he asked. “You look a bit down.”

“I-it’s nothing,” Lola lied.

Lynn Sr. walked over to Lola and knelt down to her height. “Honey, you know you can talk to me about anything, birthday or no birthday. Something’s clearly bugging you; it’s best to get that kinda stuff off your chest.”

Lola let out another sigh. She was completely at a loss for what to do.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you until later, but I… actually had something special planned for your birthday,” she said.

Lynn Sr. tilted his head. “Well, what’s the problem with that? You can show me your surprise after I bake my cake.”

“No, see, that was part of the surprise,” said Lola. “M-maybe I should just show you now.”

She took Lynn Sr. by the hand and led him upstairs to her room. As soon as he saw Lola’s elaborate tea party setup, his eyes sparkled.

“H-honey, what’s this?” he asked.

“It’s High Tea. Chunk says it’s big in England, and I know how much you like that kinda stuff,” said Lola.

Lynn Sr. took a moment to look at Lola’s setup. “Oh, wow. Th-this is beautiful, sweetheart. And you made all this for me?”

“Yeah,” said Lola. She let out a sigh and cast her gaze downward. “I was actually going to the kitchen to get some supplies. I was gonna bake tea cakes for you. But since you’re baking your own cake…”

Lynn Sr. frowned and furrowed his brow. “Oh. I-I see. Well, we can still have High Tea. I’ll just save that recipe for another…”

Lola shook her head. “No, Daddy. It’s your birthday. You should do whatever makes you happy.”

Lynn Sr. knelt down and placed a hand on Lola’s shoulder. “Sweetie, I can’t have a happy birthday knowing that you’re not happy,” he said. “This was very thoughtful of you, and I’d hate to see all this preparation go to waste.”  After a pause, his expression brightened. “In fact, I just got an idea.”

“What’s that, Daddy?”

“Lola, how would you like to be my sous chef?”

Lola blinked. “Your… what?”

“My assistant,” Lynn Sr. explained. “We can make those tea cakes together.”

Lola’s eyes went wide. “Really? But what about Mr. Sergei’s recipe?”

“Like I said, I can always save that recipe for another day,” said Lynn Sr.. “If you want to serve High Tea for my birthday, then I say we make it the best High Tea this side of the pond.”

Lola let out a delighted laugh and hugged her father. “That sounds wonderful. You’re the best, Daddy.”

“I always try my best for you kids. You know that,” said Lynn Sr., returning Lola’s hug. After a pause, he stood up. “Alright, now go wash up. We’ve got some baking to do.”

“Yes, chef!” Lola said with a salute. With that, she dashed off to the bathroom. Lynn Sr. chuckled as he made his way back downstairs.

***

In a matter of moments, Lola was back down in the kitchen, wearing her white chef hat and stylish apron. Lynn Sr. smiled at her as he finished putting his own apron on.

“Ready to go, sous chef?” he asked.

“Sure am!” Lola chirped. She noticed that Lynn Sr. had already set up a stool by the kitchen counter for her. Without wasting any time, she hopped up onto the stool and eagerly rubbed her hands together. Already, Lynn Sr. had all of the ingredients and baking supplies laid out on the counter, as well as a cookbook.

“So, what do you think, sweetie?” said Lynn Sr.. “Shall we go for the traditional English tea cakes? Or do you want to try something different?”

Lola tilted her head. “Why’re you asking me, Daddy? This is your birthday; you should choose.”

Lynn Sr. chuckled. “Got me there. Sorry, honey. Old habit.”  He took a moment to scroll through the cookbook. “Hmm. Well, you obviously put a lot of thought into your High Tea setup. I think we should make this as authentic as possible.”

“Sounds good,” said Lola. “So, where do we start?”

Lynn Sr. checked the cookbook. “First thing we need is two cups of butter and one cup of sugar.”

Lola scanned the counter and quickly found the ingredients Lynn Sr. laid out. “Two cups of butter. That’s about, what, half a stick?”

“More like one and a third,” Lynn Sr. corrected.

Lola nodded and passed one stick of butter to her father. She then took up a butter knife and hovered it over the second stick. She stared at it carefully, tilting her head from side to side.

“One third, one third…” Lola muttered to herself.

“Need any help over there, Lola?” asked Lynn Sr..

“N-no no, I-I think I got it,” said Lola. She continued to look over the stick of butter, shifting her knife from side to side. “Um, uh…”

Finally, she let out a defeated groan. “Okay, I need help. I’m sorry, I-I’m not good with fractions.”

Lynn Sr. nodded. “It’s alright, Lola. There’s no shame in asking for help.”  He reached over and cut a piece of butter, plopping it into the bowl. “Right. Now the sugar. Use the measuring cup, please.”

Lola looked back at the table and found the cup as instructed. She then reached into the plastic container containing the sugar and took a big scoop. A small mountain of the stuff stuck out of the top, with little white grains running down the side.

“Like this, Daddy?” she asked.

Lynn Sr. turned and shook his head. “Not quite, sweetie. That’s way too much.”

Lola looked at the sugar, and then back at her father. “So? That’ll just make ‘em sweeter.”

“That’s not necessarily a good thing, Lola,” said Lynn Sr.. “There’s something you need to know about baking.”

“What’s that?”

“Cooking is an art, but baking is a science.”

Lola blinked and tilted her head. “I… don’t follow.”

“When you cook, you’re free to experiment with all sorts of stuff,” Lynn Sr. explained. “How much spice to use; what seasonings you want; that kinda thing. But when you’re baking, it won’t come out right unless you follow the recipe to the letter. That’s not to say you can’t tweak things every so often, but in general, it’s best if you stick to the instructions.”

Lola frowned. “Really? ‘Cause I bake with a lot of sugar all the time, and my cakes turn out fine.”

“Well, that’s because most kids your age like things extra sweet,” said Lynn Sr. with a smirk. “But if you want to be a good chef, you need to understand that these rules are here for a reason. Just trust me on this.”

Lola furrowed her brow for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “If you say so, Daddy. But what do I do about all this?”

“Here, this is what I do,” said Lynn Sr.. He brandished a spatula and took the cup of sugar from Lola. “Now, just hold the cup over the container like this, and scrape whatever you don’t need back in. That way, you end up with exactly the amount you need.”

He demonstrated thusly, shifting the mountain of sugar back into the container. He then dumped the cup of sugar into the bowl with the butter.

“There. Now you start creaming the butter and sugar together until it’s all blended together,” he said. “I’ll get started on the pecans.”

“Yes, chef!” said Lola. She took up a wooden spoon and started stirring up a storm. Meanwhile, Lynn Sr. started chopping pecans and setting them on a baking tray. Once all the pecans were chopped, he slipped them into the oven. Lola noticed this and arched an eyebrow.

“Um, Daddy? Isn’t the oven for the cake?” she asked. “Why are you using it now?”

“The recipe calls for toasted pecans,” Lynn Sr. answered. “Don’t worry, they should be out of the oven when we finish our batter. How’s that coming along?”

Lola looked down into the bowl. “It looks very… fluffy. Like snow.”

Lynn Sr. nodded. “That’s exactly what we want. Alright, you keep mixing. I’m gonna add in the vanilla extract.”

He then took out a tiny bottle and a teaspoon. Ever so carefully, he measured out one teaspoon of the stuff before splashing it into the bowl. As he measured out another teaspoon, he watched Lola work and smiled.

“Hey, kiddo. You want a smell of this?” he asked.

Lola stopped working and gave Lynn Sr. a look. “Um, okay.”

Lynn Sr. played the bottle to Lola’s nose, and Lola took in a deep whiff. Her eyes snapped open and sparkled.

“Oh, wow. That smells so good~,” she squeaked.

“Sure does,” said Lynn Sr.. He emptied the second teaspoon into the bowl. Lola stared at the mixture for a moment.

“Wait, that’s all we’re adding?” she inquired.

“That’s what the recipe calls for,” said Lynn Sr.. “Remember, baking is a science. You can’t bend the rules as much.”

“But something that smells that good can’t be too bad,” said Lola.

Lynn Sr. sighed. “Lola, there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing. Vanilla extract is very powerful stuff. You never want to add more than a couple of teaspoons. Otherwise, that flavor just overpowers everything else.”

“Hang on, I’m confused,” said Lola, knitting her brow. “Cakes are supposed to be sweet, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, but we don’t want to make them too sweet,” said Lynn Sr.. “Otherwise, you’d might as well just eat a bowl of sugar.”

In an instant, Lola’s face brightened.

“And yes, I know that sounds really good to you,” Lynn Sr. continued. “But trust me, that isn’t how baking works. Like, say we were making brownies. Do you think they’d taste as good if all you could taste was the sugar and not the fudge?”

Lola took a moment to mull over the question. “Hmm. I… guess they wouldn’t taste as good.”

“Exactly,” said Lynn Sr. with a nod. “And that’s why we need to use exact measurement while baking. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Oh. I-I see,” said Lola. She continued mixing the batter, her face pensive and contemplative.

“Alright, that should be good for now,” said Lynn Sr.. “Let’s add our flour. We’ll need four cups.”

Lola nodded and took up the measuring cup. She stuck it into the bag of flour on the table and took up a big scoop. She looked at the mountain of flour for a moment, remembering what her father told her before.

“So, you take a spatula like this, right?” she said, taking up a spatula. Ever so daintily, she scraped the excess flour back into the bag.

“There you go. Just like that,” said Lynn Sr.. “Hang on, I’ll get a sifter.”

He reached down below and pulled out a large sifter. He then placed it over the bowl. Lola raised an eyebrow.

“Why do we need that?” she asked.

“We need to add the flour gradually,” Lynn Sr. explained. “Dumping it in all at once makes the batter too lumpy.”

“Ah,” said Lola. She dumped the cup of flour into the sifter and took another scoop. This time when she used the spatula, there was less than a cup left over.

“That’s okay, sweetie,” said Lynn Sr.. “If you need more, just take another scoop. Remember, it has to be smooth on top.”

Lola nodded and took another scoop. Slowly but surely, she got all of the flour into the sifter.

“Right. Now watch closely,” said Lynn Sr.. Gently, he tapped the sifter, causing flour to sprinkle down into the bowl. “Just keep doing that until you get all the flour in there. Think you can handle it, sous chef?”

“Um, uh-huh,” said Lola.

“Great. You keep working on this. Once all the flour is in, just mix it all together,” said Lynn Sr.. “I’m gonna check on the pecans.”

Lola did as instructed. All the while, her face was fixated in a pensive, contemplative frown. Once all the flour was in, she began mixing it around with her spoon. She barely acknowledged the nutty scent of the toasted pecans as Lynn Sr. set them on the counter.

“There you go, honey. Make sure everything’s incorporated,” said Lynn Sr.. “Oh, and don’t forget to fold your batter. We don’t want lumpy cakes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Lola. A faint smile formed on her face as she stirred the mixture around, combining everything into a sweet-smelling paste. However, her usual enthusiasm was tempered by everything her father told her about baking. After a while, she looked up at Lynn Sr..

“Is this enough?” she asked.

Lynn Sr. took a look at the batter. Indeed, it had a thick consistency, and barely a speck of flour or grain of sugar was out of place.

“That should be enough, sweetheart,” said Lynn Sr.. He took out a baking pan and began spraying it with oil. Lola looked at the pan oddly.

“Isn’t that for making muffins?” she asked.

“This can work for tea cakes, too,” said Lynn Sr.. “This way, we’ll get them into a perfect round shape. Now, just pour a bit of the batter into each cup.”

Lola nodded and did as instructed, carefully scooping the batter into the pan using her spoon. After each cup was filled, Lynn Sr. took his spatula and flattened them out. Suddenly, Lola accidentally spilled a bit of batter onto Lynn Sr.’s hand. She gasped and recoiled, nearly dropping the bowl.

“O-omigosh, I’m so sorry!” she squeaked.

Lynn Sr., however, wasn’t the least bit phased. He simply chuckled and shrugged it off.

“Don’t sweat it, honey. Baking is meant to get messy,” he said.

“R-right. Duh,” said Lola. She quickly shook herself and continued pouring the batter. Eventually, each muffin cup in the pan was filled.

“There. Now just one last step before the oven,” said Lynn Sr.. “We need to press a pecan into each cake, like this.”

He took up one of the toasted pecans and pressed it into the batter. Lola followed suit, barely noticing the bits of batter sticking to her fingers. Once each of the cakes had a pecan, Lynn Sr. slipped the tray into the oven.

“Now we just wait a few minutes for these to bake,” he said. He then looked down at Lola and smirked. “Hey, sous chef.”

“What is it, Daddy?”

“I think you’ve got a little something on your face.”

Confused, Lola took out a compact and checked her reflection in the mirror. “Huh? I don’t see anything. What’re you talking abou—?”

She was interrupted when Lynn Sr. leaned in and gave her cheek a gentle poke. There was now a droplet of cake batter just on the side of her lip. She stared at it a bit before letting out a giggle.

“Aw~. It’s like I have a cute little mole,” she said. She then licked her lips, lapping up the bit of batter. “Mmm~. That’s delicious.”

“If you think it tastes good now, wait until it’s baked,” said Lynn Sr.. He then let out a content sigh. “Well, I’d better clean up. You should make sure we’re all set for tea.”

“O-oh. Um, sure thing, Daddy,” said Lola. She then noticed the spoon in her hand. It was still dripping with sweet batter. She looked up at Lynn Sr., who chuckled and rolled his eyes.

“Okay, sweetie. You can lick the spoon,” he said. “It should be safe, anyway. This recipe didn’t call for eggs, so there isn’t anything to worry about.”

Lola arched an eyebrow. “Why would eggs make a difference?”

“Because despite what Lynn might say, you never want to eat raw eggs,” said Lynn Sr.. “They can make you pretty sick.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” said Lola. She then sighed. “Just one more thing I don’t know, I guess.”

Lynn Sr. frowned. “Hey, what’s wrong, Lola? I thought you’d have fun backing with your old dad.”

“Oh, I-I did. I really really did,” said Lola. She put on her biggest smile and began nibbling the end of her spoon. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Lynn Sr. could tell something was still bugging Lola, but he decided not to press her for the time being.

“You’re very welcome, my little sous chef,” he said. “Now, go get yourself cleaned up. I’ll be upstairs in a few minutes with the tea cakes.”

“Sure thing,” said Lola. She hopped off of the stool and made her way upstairs, still licking the batter off the spoon. Lynn Sr. knitted his brow as he cleaned up the kitchen.

***

Lola did one last check over her tea party setup before taking a seat. She thoughtfully nibbled on the end of her spoon, processing the baking experience she had with her dad. It wasn’t long before her thoughts were interrupted by a sweet scent wafting through her door. As she perked up, the door swung open, revealing Lynn Sr. holding a baking pan filled with freshly baked tea cakes.

“Here we are. The final touch,” he said, setting the cakes down. “Sorry I took so long, sweetie. You know how your siblings can get. On the plus side, we got positive reviews all around.”

Lola peered into the pan. Straight away, she saw that at least half of the tea cakes they baked were missing. No doubt, the rest of the family smelled the fresh confectionaries, and each and every one of them wanted a taste. She smiled.

“It’s okay, Daddy. After all, this is technically your birthday cake. Everyone should get a piece,” she said. “I’ll just set these up here. Why don’t you pick out what tea you want?”

Lynn Sr. looked over at the jars of tea Lola had on offer. As he went from jar to jar and took a whiff of each one, Lola daintily placed the cakes neatly on the top tray of the three-layered trivet. Once she was done, Lynn Sr. nodded.

“I think I’ll have the jasmine,” he said.

Lola beamed. “Excellent choice, sir.  One moment.”

Lola took her teapot and made her way downstairs. In a few minutes, she returned with both the pot and a teabag in hand. Lynn Sr. could see the steam rising from the spout.

“Now, just watch the middle hourglass here. The one with the green sand,” Lola instructed. “Once the sand is gone, the tea will be ready.”

She slipped the teabag into the pot and flipped the trio of hourglasses. Lynn Sr.’s eyes sparkled with intrigue.

“Wow. You really did your research for this, Lola,” he said. “This really takes me back to my time in London.”

Lola blushed and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Thanks, Daddy. I really worked hard on this.”  She then sighed. “I just wonder how those tea cakes would’ve turned out if I made ‘em on my own.”

Lynn Sr. shrugged. “I’m sure they would’ve been fine, sweetheart.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’m not,” said Lola, twiddling her fingers. “There was so much about baking that I didn’t know, and I love to bake! It was really fun doing it with you, but when I realized that I’ve been doing it wrong all this time, well…  I-I just don’t know how to feel.”

Lynn Sr. gave Lola a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t get discouraged, kiddo. Do you think I knew all that stuff when I was your age? I made plenty of mistakes with my cooking, but I learned from them. Just like you are. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re gonna be a great baker someday.”

Lola looked up at Lynn Sr., her eyes sparkling. “Y-you really mean that?”

“Absolutely,” said Lynn Sr. with a nod. “You demonstrated it in that kitchen. You know quite a bit, and anything you didn’t know, you were willing to learn. That’s the hallmark of a true chef.”

Lola let out a joyous sob and gave her father a hug. “Th-that really means a lot to me, Daddy. Thank you.”

“Hey, thank you for setting all this up for me,” said Lynn Sr., returning her embrace. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I wanted to,” Lola cooed. “Because you deserve the best. Happy birthday, Daddy.”

“Thank you, honey,” Lynn Sr. replied. “You know I try my best for you kids, so it’s always nice to see you guys trying so hard for me, too.”  He then checked the hourglass. “Oh, looks like the tea’s just about ready. Let’s tuck in.”

Lola blinked. “Tuck in?”

“Dig in,” Lynn Sr. clarified. “It’s British slang.”

“Oh,” Lola said with a giggle. With that, the two of them sat down for tea. Lola poured for her and her father while Lynn Sr. reached for the sugar bowl.

“One lump or two, luv?” he asked in his British accent.

Lola stared at her tea and pondered for a moment. “Hmm, one please.”

Lynn Sr. blinked. Usually when Lola was asked this question, her answer was usually “five” or some extravagant number like that. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I kinda wanna taste the tea and not just the sugar for once,” said Lola.

Lynn Sr. smiled as he plopped a cube of sugar into Lola’s tea. “See? You’re learning already.”

Lola let out a sheepish chuckle and shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. I guess I am.”