Work Text:
Raw Tengu Egg with Roasted Eggshell
Ingredients:
- 1 fresh tengu egg
- sake
- rock salt
Directions:
- Empty the egg’s contents into a bowl.
- Smash the empty eggshell with a rock, because it’s too sturdy even for your bare fists. Realize the eggshell is still damp and sticky and is now all over your hands and shirt. Pick up as much eggshell as you can and place the pieces into an iron cooking pan.
- Place the pan over a fire. Make sure the fire is at the mouth of the cave and not inside your nest! Fire won’t burn in anoxic zones! Also, all that smoke would get annoying anyway.
- Whisk the egg with chopsticks.
- Pour a splash of sake into the bowl. Add a pinch of salt too, to enhance that rich flavor, just like Megumu taught you.
- Sprinkle some of that roasted eggshell into the egg. Or eat ‘em separately. Whatever works.
… But maybe the sake adds an unnecessarily sour edge to the egg, now that Momoyo thinks about it. Something less acrid, less bitter, with less of a punch to the roof of her mouth— would blood be a more suitable substitute, with its iron flavor? Megumu probably wouldn’t mind giving some. Or they could just wring out a wild boar together. Yeah, that might be something to try out next time.
The fire crackles away beneath the pan, its smoke thick and sour thanks to the random scraps of ore fed to its flames. Momoyo moves the pan away from the heat and delicately picks at some of that eggshell, hissing when her fingertips brush against hot metal.
Cooking isn’t really her thing; there’s no point in cooking when raw food is perfectly fine. And whatever she’s incapable of digesting, she’ll just spit right out, though that hasn’t happened in ages.
But Megumu, so sophisticated and civilized, likes hot food. Prepped food. Cooked food. And so, Momoyo makes a rare appearance at the edge of daylight, crouched beside a campfire burning away at the mouth of a narrow cave. The wolf tengu patrolling the mountain have wisely redirected their routes, and the trees are notably absent of birdsong. It’s quiet out here, dragonflies and beetles her only company for now. These guys also understand the appeal of raw food.
Momoyo would admit, however, that those onigiri Megumu likes to make are second to none.
“Yo, Megumu! You awake yet!?” she shouts over her shoulder, voice bouncing off the walls and vanishing into the depths of the tunnel. Her call fades to silence… and more silence.
Momoyo shrugs and turns back to her pan of roasted eggshell. The bits of membrane stuck to them have cooked nicely by now, curling at the edges and beginning to peel off the shell. They have a subtle taste and are sharp on the tongue— just how she likes it. Crunchy, too.
The egg, in contrast, is viscous and difficult to swallow in gulps. She opts to sip at it instead, cradling the bowl between her palms. It runs warm down her throat, its slippery texture only interrupted by the stray bit of eggshell that had been dropped in.
“I’m glad to see you taking your time, rather than inhaling it all at once.”
Momoyo lowers the bowl and licks her lips. “I ain’t that dumb. A rare meal’s gotta be savored, else it’s just a shameful waste. Megumu! Come try some!”
Megumu steps out from the cave, barefoot, wrapped up in an oversized hanten that leaves everything below her waist exposed. Her hair is in disarray, eyes bloodshot, a far cry from her typical poise. Momoyo grins up at her and pats the ground.
“How is it, with the sake?” Megumu asks, yawning.
“S’alright. Let’s try blood next time!”
Once she’s settled down beside her, Momoyo rummages through the pan and plucks up the largest piece of eggshell she can find. She pushes it at Megumu’s lips; Megumu readily opens her mouth, like a bird, accepting the offering.
“Aw, you’re still tired,” Momoyo notes. She wraps an arm around Megumu’s shoulders, rubbing at the thick fabric of her jacket with her thumb. “Take it easy and eat up, ‘kay? You’re no fun to fight when you’re outta energy.”
Wordlessly, Megumu takes the bowl from Momoyo and laps at it like a cat. Once, twice. Thrice. After a moment of consideration, she shakes her head.
“Needs more salt.”
“No complaining! I did my best!”
“Let me handle the cooking,” Megumu says, unfolding her legs and removing herself from Momoyo’s side. “I’ll make something that tastes even better than this raw slop.”
If it were anyone else, perhaps they’d admire the way the waning sunlight glances off her feathers, and how smooth yet scarred her thighs are. Or they would take note of the Great Tengu’s uncharacteristically drowsy gaze, the way she moves just a bit more slowly than someone of her station ever should, a rare moment of sheer exposure that leaves her as wide open as the cavern she had just stumbled out of. But Momoyo doesn’t bother with such details. Instead, all her focus is directed at the second egg that Megumu pulls out from within her jacket, its shell still warm and glistening.
She grins so hard that Megumu can see all her teeth. Megumu gently laughs and pushes her away when Momoyo tries to lunge for the egg.
Tengu Tamago Kake Gohan
Ingredients:
- whatever’s left of the first tengu egg
- 2 bowls of hot, cooked barley rice
- soy sauce
- shredded nori
Directions:
- Pour the egg mixture over each bowl of rice. Pour just a little bit more into Momoyo’s bowl because she’s still hungry.
- Add a drizzle of soy sauce (to both bowls).
- Thoroughly whisk the rice.
- Sprinkle shredded nori to garnish.
“What difference does it make, if the egg’s as bland as ya say it is?” Momoyo huffs. She watches with as much concentration as a hawk as Megumu takes a tiny bite of rice and splashes in just a spit’s worth of soy sauce.
“The more ingredients you add, the more flavor you get,” Megumu patiently explains. “Isn’t that why you tried adding sake to your recipe?”
“I think I just wanted to see if I could get drunk off one of your eggs?”
Megumu throws her head back and laughs. “Then maybe I should drink more when I’m nesting!”
The second egg sits within a nest made from the bundle of Megumu’s hanten, close enough to the fire to stay warm but well out of Momoyo’s reach. Or, at least, far enough that Megumu would have enough time to react should Momoyo attempt to make a grab for it again.
The rice doesn’t smell like much, even with the addition of the egg and rich green nori. Momoyo casts her a dubious look as she’s given one of the ceramic bowls. Megumu takes her own and a pair of chopsticks, content to slowly stir the rice beneath another tired yawn.
“This much ain’t gonna give you your energy back,” Momoyo says. She glances at the second egg, so perfect and ivory and ready to be eaten.
“I’ll cook that one next.” Megumu takes a bite and chews. The rice is creamy with the addition of the egg— smooth, rich, almost buttery, with a lingering note of the sake Momoyo had mixed in before. She wonders if all those layers of flavor would be lost on a centipede. Well, not that it particularly matters. Megumu takes another bite and rudely points her chopsticks at her companion. “Don’t waste any of the barley, alright?”
“Y’know I always lick the bowl clean!”
Momoyo does. And then she eats the bowl as well.
Dragon Gem Omurice… “Oremurice”?
Ingredients:
- 1 fresh tengu egg
- a handful of crushed Dragon Gems
- rock salt
- cooking oil
- leftover Tengu Tamago Kake Gohan
Directions:
- Whisk the egg.
- Give the eggshells to Momoyo to eat so she won’t bother you when you’re cooking.
- Coat the pan with oil. Heat over that acrid fire.
- Pour the egg mixture into the pan and swirl to ensure an even layer. Allow it to sit for about a minute. This step is important; if the layer is too thin or the bottom is not cooked enough, the Dragon Gems will break through the egg.
- Add the Dragon Gems. Use a wooden spoon to gently lift the edge of the omelette and fold it over. Or if you’re as as dextrous as the Great Tengu, you can simply maneuver the pan to flip the omelette over without the need for a spoon. Momoyo likes to watch that part.
- Slide the omelette onto a plate of any leftover Tengu Tamago Kake Gohan.
- Cut the omelette down the middle to allow it to open up and spill over the rice. Admire how the Dragon Gems still shine even when cooked into an omelette.
- Add salt and drizzle oil to taste.
Megumu treats the whole nesting affair as an inconvenience more than anything, despite the great lengths she goes to to roost somewhere comfortable (and well out of sight). But now, it’s less of an inconvenience and more of a special treat for the mountain’s giant centipede. At the very least, Momoyo’s excitement makes it overall bearable. It only happens once a year at most, if not less frequently than that— and it gives her a fine excuse to retreat from her duties and spend uninterrupted time underground.
Or at some random, unmarked entrance to the mines. She takes a bite of the omelette before allowing Momoyo to grab the plate.
“Gimme that!” Momoyo snatches the spoon as well, gripping it like how she would wield a shovel. Megumu sits back, satisfied, and watches Momoyo dig in.
“Well? It’s much better than drinking it raw straight from the shell, isn’t it?”
Momoyo enthusiastically nods. She says something and spits some rice on Megumu’s face at the same time, likely in agreement.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Megumu says, though she knows Momoyo would never take that particular piece of advice to heart. The fire is beginning to die down; she stretches her hands over the fading embers, searching for those remnants of heat. Now that it’s getting dark, more youkai will be wandering this side of the mountain. One or two unfortunate creatures may even stumble upon them, attracted by the smell of fire and food. Getting into a fight doesn’t sound so bad right now, she thinks.
She yawns and rests her head against Momoyo’s shoulder while she eats. Cooking was the easiest part of this whole ordeal.
“Oh. I forgot to offer you some more,” Momoyo says, after a stretch of comfortable silence. She pushes the spoon at Megumu’s face. “Got any more eggs left in ya?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Still, though. Two of ‘em! I was really surprised!”
Megumu obligingly licks the offered spoon and yawns again. Rather than a fight… maybe she needs to sleep, instead. Yes, a full day of sleep should be enough to set her right again. But the other tengu wouldn’t allow it, least of all Momoyo and her needy demands.
She blinks, realizing she’d been staring off into space while Momoyo finished off the omurice. There’s an empty plate being waved in front of her face.
“Iizunamaruuuu!” Momoyo croons, content and gentle now that her hunger’s been sated. “See? Not a single grain of rice wasted! Ah, hold on.”
Megumu holds very still as Momoyo brings her face in, not to kiss her, but to lick away those pieces of rice pasted to her skin by egg and venomous spit. She can’t help but laugh beneath that burning, ticklish sensation, easily curling into Momoyo and pushing the plate aside. They fall onto the grass together, legs tangled, warm even as their campfire dies down to dull red, to mirror the setting sun.
Momoyo folds an arm beneath her head, coiling her other arm around Megumu.
“How did it taste?” Megumu asks.
“What do you think?” Momoyo replies, nuzzling her hair. “You had a few bites too, didn’t ya? Anyway, that’s a dumb question. If it was no good I would’ve told you.”
“I suppose you have low standards when all you eat are bugs and rocks.”
“Hey, not true! I also eat crow.”
“Haha... I’ll cook something new for you, the next time I nest.”
“What if I fertilized your eggs first?”
Megumu lifts her head, staring at her. If Momoyo were joking, she’d already be cracking up by now, but she’s not. She stares back, earnest and drooling, rubbing circles around Megumu’s upper arm. Megumu stares not out of shock nor fluster, but because Momoyo had already asked that same question years ago. It isn’t as though they made any actual promises about it, but she had assumed Momoyo simply forgot about the idea.
It’s an amusing thought, really. Megumu would have laughed as well, if Momoyo meant it as a joke.
“Then you should eat them after they hatch.”
Momoyo thinks this over, probably imagining feathered centipedes with soft exoskeletons and dark, tiny wings. They’d come into the world ravenous and ready to sink their fanged beaks into whatever’s closest to them. If left to grow to their full potential, they would terrorize the mountain— nay, the entirety of Gensokyo. What fun!
“… Nah,” Momoyo decides. “Hatching ‘em would take waaay too long. That omurice was the best! You gotta lay more and make more of it!”
That’s that, then. They continue to talk in circles, about meaningless things like winged arthropods and cooked eggs, until the stars blink to life above them.