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It was when he saw Ahsoka eyeing a beetle with keen interest than Obi-Wan decided it was time for an intervention. He had totally failed the culinary education of his own Padawan, he wouldn’t fail it in the same way for his Grandpadawan.
“You didn’t fail my education, Master, seriously-“
“-Shh, Anakin, I’m the one telling the story.”
The war was dying down, for no reasons the Jedi could exactly pinpoint. They were doing exactly the same things they had done for years, but this time the other side was answering their propositions of peace talks and, sector by sectors, the combats were stopping and tentative talks started.
The Senate was busy sending ambassadors left and right, companies were tentatively establishing commercial routes again, employment was going up and even Asajj Ventress was calming down, because after finally killing Dooku the only thing she apparently wanted was to roam the galaxy with a besotted Quinlan Vos trailing behind her like a besotted, if well-armed, puppy.
How sad it was that a previously undiagnosed heart condition had taken Chancellor Palpatine before his time, before he could see the peace and harmony he had so wished for.
“Padmé will laugh so much when she hears you called her blaster an undiagnosed heart condition.”
“The joint investigation between the Judicial officers and the Jedi was thorough, Anakin. Heart condition.”
So, Anakin liked to eat worms, Ahsoka wasn’t far behind, the clones had only eaten rations for all their lives, and once a strange mushroom in Fives’ case. That had prompted hours of talking to the wall and giggling about stuff his foot was telling him, the right because the left was apparently quite rude. After seeing that, and also the way Fives had been ill after, none of the vode had wanted to test anything that wasn’t a ration sealed in vacuum and with the same taste every time, no matter what was written on the package.
Time for an intervention.
Obi-Wan had called his old friend Dex and asked for the permission to borrow his diner during the closing day.
Anakin had whined that it was a little hypocritical of Obi-Wan, who survived on tea, sass and more tea, with sometimes some algae biscuits thrown in it when Bant could corner him long enough, to comment on anyone’s eating habits.
“I didn’t whine!”
“You really did, my dear. And you do on a regular basis.”
Dex had said yes and even offered his diner, and more importantly his kitchen, every closing day when Obi-Wan was on Coruscant.
So, Obi-Wan had chosen his first tasters.
Ahsoka, of course, for who he had started all of that. Worms and beetles and other crawling things were fine in a pitch, he had himself sometimes indulged when Qui-Gon Jinn’s latest nonsense had thrown his Padawan self in the middle of a jungle with no rations. He could also admit that with the stress of the war, he had let his responsibilities erase his body’s normal hunger, but it was no more a time of war. Time to eat like a civilized sentient.
Anakin himself. Young Knight Obi-Wan, struggling with grief and -he could see it now- depression, had let this feral child keep his slave days habits in term of food: Anakin ate everything that couldn’t move away quick enough, in a latent fear there wouldn’t be something to fill his belly later. It was honestly heart-breaking.
It could also be heart-healing: the way the younger Jedi always insisted for Ahsoka to eat first… Obi-Wan will fight for every child in the galaxy to have enough, not like Anakin couldn’t when he was younger and now that the war is finishing, he hoped they could make a difference here.
Padme, because now that the so-called secret marriage was out in the open, he hoped he could spend more time with the young woman and deepen their nascent beginning friendship. The galaxy really could do with more friendship.
And Rex and Cody, the two vode they were closest to. Once those two had come back to the barracks in better shape than Fives after his mushrooms experience, the other vode could probably be convinced to try something else than rations.
Aaylala, who had just taken her first Padawan and would spend a year of Coruscant to better learn each other, had already put herself, the Padawan and Commander Bly on what she called jokingly “Master Kenobi’s dinner waiting list”. She wanted to explore with them the food of her home planet and reconnect with her culture. Boil and Waxer could probably be convinced, too.
It meant the first experience had to be a success.
After his morning session with the Council, Obi-Wan had taken his afternoon off, that too being a new event in the Jedi Order. Most of the time, Bant or Anakin had too threaten to sit on him just for him going to bed. Everybody had sworn to never talk again about that time it had been so bad Master Windu himself really did have to sit on him for Obi-Wan just to take a nap.
“Speaking for yourself, Master, me, I’m never ever going to let you forget that one.”
He had slowly explored the closest market, feeling slightly nostalgic. Qui-Gon always had insisted food should be a fuel, not a passion. He had also said that taking pleasure in the taste, the smell, the hundreds of wonderful vegetables, fruits, meats, grains, offered by nature, that it was celebrating the joy of life, of the Force...
Obi-Wan realized he had forgotten that, in the despair of the war. Now, he took pleasure in choosing fresh produce for the people he loved. Around him, the market was bustling with life. People laughing, speaking, tasting, vendors celebrating their products… It was the season for one of the biggest food import of Coruscant. It was some citrus fruit which had the very rare peculiarity, a very rare one, to be edible for all known sentients. The smell was everywhere in the market, fresh and cleansing and Obi-Wan had taken a bite of one with a groan of pleasure the moment he had purchased them, the juice sweet and slightly acidic at the same time.
When he got to the dinner, he cooked with the same deep happiness of preparing something easy, nutritious and tasty for his family. He had decided to make it simple for the first time, not wanting to push the boundaries of Cody and Rex. Going from rations to a nine-course meal would probably be overkill.
Obi-Wan himself tended to a vegetarian diet, like Qui-Gon had, but he hadn’t always had a choice, and Ahsoka’s body needed an animal based died in a way human didn’t, so he had dismissed his all-time favourite recipe, a creamy vegetable pie a young Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi had learned from a young senatorial aid Bail Organa.
He prepared a stew which he had learned from Kit Fisto, with a lot of root vegetables and some river fish, aromatic bark from the Gold system and just a little touch of black salt. Soon, the entire diner smelled of Obi-Wan’s teenage years, when he and Bant did their homework and Kit Fisto prepared dinner.
Obi-Wan had a smile on his face, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. He should call Bant, soon. Perhaps she and some of their other childhood friends could come the next time….For dessert, he cleaned yellow, purple and red berries from Naboo, to honour Padmé, to be eaten with fresh cheese.
Nothing very complicated. Just simple food, to share and to rejoice in the new chance of the galaxy.
“To the peace?” Padmé proposed for toast at the beginning of the meal and all, they raised their glasses.
“To the peace,” they repeated in answer.
Seated between Cody and Rex, Obi-Wan explained sotto voce what exactly they were eating. He explained the planet of origin of every vegetable –
“Because everything has to be an occasion for a lecture.”
“Anakin, if you don’t stop, you will be in charge of the washing-up. And I used a lot of saucepans.”
Rex was very, very cautious with his first taste. He had been there when Fives had vomited everything he had ever eaten, and had been slightly alarmed once Obi-Wan had explained what a root vegetable was.
“Doesn’t seem very hygienic.” Was his opinion.
It changed after first taste and his plate was quickly cleaner than a ship before the admiral’s inspection.
Cody was more curious about why different sorts of vegetables had been designed.
“Waste of resources,” he decided, “one per species of sentient who wanted to eat them would have been sufficient.”
Obi-Wan hadn’t laughed. How could Cody, raised in the sterile environment of Kamino, know better about the extraordinary abundance of nature? In his own plate, he had picked a small section of one of the root vegetables he had chosen.
“This is a red stachys”, he explained, “the species comes from a planet all the way in the Outer Rim. It was only present on one of their landmasses, but as it isn’t attacked by fungus or insect pests, it’s now cultivated on all the planets and a lot of other agricultural worlds.”
Anakin made a face. He hated agricultural worlds, mostly for the smell. The desert boy loved his cities.
Obi-Wan smiled at his former Padawan’s face but continued:”Today, you can easily find seven, sometimes ten subspecies in Coruscant markets, but on the original world, where the people had centuries to select cultivars, you can find seventy-two cultivars. And it is only one of the vegetables you can find there.”
“Seventy-two!!”
Cody looked a little more at Obi-Wan’s spoon and the innocent little selection of vegetables swimming in the rich-tasting sauce.
“And every world…”
“Every world has its own food. Every ancient country, you could say. Every area. Sometimes every town has its own speciality.”
It was Cody’s turn to make a face. Not surprising: after years of ration, the abundance of possibilities seemed strange to his mind.
“It tends to be a little standardized today,” Obi-Wan admitted, “but a lot of people are working hard on preserving heirloom varieties and culinary traditions…”
Cody stabbed a bit of fish with his own cutlery and tasted it, chewing cautiously.
On the other side of the table, Padmé and Anakin were flirting. Anakin’s lines were terrible but Padmé’s own use of Naboo flowery poetry wasn’t exactly better.
Next to Cody, Rex and Ahsoka were whispering something about putting joy back in the Senate and something very suspicious about dye that Obi-Wan and Cody definitely weren’t hearing, because that one would be Commander Fox’s problem.
Cody tasted a yellow stachys, stolen directly from Obi-Wan’s plate because there were only red in his own plate. Then he tried again a red, pairing it with a green kidney-shaped pod.
“And that?” He asked, poking another pod.
“Magnolens. Seldom grown today, originated from the world of Glee Anselm.”
Cody seemed lost in thought, so Obi-Wan let him chew in peace, instead discussing literature with Padmé. They had all sworn they wouldn’t speak of work tonight, so every time they drifted to politics, Anakin interrupted them by stealing a kiss from Padmé.
It was a rousing and pleasant success.
“Master?” Ahsoka asked later, when she was helping with cleaning Dex’s kitchen. It would probably be neater than before their arrival.
“Yes, my dear?”
“Can I come to the market with you next time? And I think Rex would like it too.”
“Of course you can.” She gave him a sudden hug, surprising him.
From the kitchen, Obi-Wan could see the rest of them, Padmé and Cody lost in debate, Anakin just finishing his third helping of dessert. Rex had taken apart his own dessert, testing the berries one by one.
His former Padwan sensed their gazes and turned to them, a smile on his face. His eyes were clearer than they had been in years, and Obi-Wan felt pride and happiness swell in him.
“You would be very welcome, my dear,” He answered his Grandpadawan.