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“Bård, come and give me a hand with this dish, would you?” Vegard called from the kitchen.
There was zero response from Bård and after a few minutes Vegard ambled into the living room and saw Bård was immersed to his iphone screen. Vegard crept closer and his slight annoyance with his brother turned into mischief.
“Hey panini head, are you listening to me at all?” Vegard yelled as he jumped to Bård’s side, startling him.
“Huh? Did you say something?” Bård raised his eyes from the screen.
“I asked if you could come and help me in the kitchen!”
“Oh sorry, I was just about to get a rare cat to come to my place.”
“ A cat? What are you talking about? You don’t even like cats!”
“Look,” Bård said and showed him the game. “My daughters installed this game on my phone and I find it oddly appealing,” he explained.
Vegard looked and saw a swarm of cutely drawn cats playing around with toys on the screen.
“What the hell?”
“It’s called Neko Atsume,” Bård said, oblivious to Vegard’s derision.
“Whatever! Just come and give me a hand, ok? We need to get this done!”
“Fine,” Bård grumbled.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked as he stopped by a chopping board in the kitchen.
“Mhh, it would be great if you could make little pockets into the chicken breast fillets, while I sauté the red onions.”
Vegard turned his back to Bård, who grabbed a large knife from the block. He took a strong hold of the meat with his left hand and was about to cut into it from the top.
Luckily Vegard happened to glance over at Bård and yelled “Stop!”
“What now?” Bård asked.
“Gently, gently, gently. Make love to it, don’t fuck it like that!” Vegard said, quoting his favorite TV chef for the second time that afternoon.
Bård rolled his eyes at his brother. “Seriously?”
“Look,” he said. “First of all, you need a smaller knife for this,” he said and picked up one with a narrow blade. “Then you slice it carefully, like this…” he added and slid the sharp instrument carefully at the side of the meat, making a precise incision on the horizontal plane of the piece.
“Oh! When you said “a pocket”, I thought you meant it was supposed to go on the upside.”
“Sorry, I was a bit imprecise with the instructions. Do the rest like this and tell me when you’re done.”
“Yes, chef Ylvisåker!”
Vegard growled, only half playfully. “Don’t get sassy with me when I am holding a knife!”
But Bård was a quick study and soon the pockets were cut correctly and filled with spinach and ricotta cheese.
“What is this stuff? It kinda smells like feet!”
It was Vegard’s turn for an eye roll. “You heathen!” he said and launched into a lengthy explanation on the finer points of ricotta, which Bård promptly stopped listening to. He knew Vegard’s expressions and body language well enough to make affirmative noises and nod at the right places.
Vegard finished and beamed at Bård. “You understand now?”
“Sure!” Bård grinned.
Vegard bumped his shoulder affectionately with his fist and with mock anger said “You didn’t hear a single word of what I just uttered, did you?”
“Not one,” he giggled and ducked just in time to avoid Vegard’s swat.
“Ugh!” Vegard sighed exasperatedly. “I swear, if you weren’t my brother, I’d…”
Bård quickly slid his arms around Vegard’s waist from behind and laid his head on his shoulder.
“…but I am and you love me the most, right?”
Vegard barked a short laugh. “You shithead, I can’t even be mad at you, can I?”
“Nope, I’m awesome like that,” he confirmed.
“Make yourself useful and take out the trash, please.”
“Aww, but Vegard, it’s cold out there,” Bård whined.
“Shut it! It’s going to start stinking soon, it’s not good to keep the packaging of raw chicken in a warm place.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll take it out, jeez.”
Vegard handed a bag to Bård, who in turn grabbed his parka, put in on, pulled up the fur-lined hood and stepped out. The air was biting cold this time of year and his breath made white clouds in the air as he breathed out. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps when he heard a commotion, there was a yowl and a whining noise.
He quickly peered around the corner and saw Vegard’s cat, puffed up into a fluffy ball of fur, sitting on the lid of the trashcan. A red fox stood on his hind legs and tried to get a bite to eat, of the feline or the trash. Either way, the cat wasn’t into the idea and was using her mean right hook on the poor fox’s nose. As soon as the creature heard Bård, he turned around and was gone with a swish of his beautiful tail. The cat calmed down and tried to rub her head on Bård when he got close enough. He pushed her off the lid, the cat landed and begun washing herself with an undignified look on her face.
“Well excuse me, your highness,” Bård told the cat, “some of us have chores to do, thanks to your master,” as he dumped the bag into the bin.
Bård went back in and welcomed the warmth of the kitchen.
“Is there something else you need of me, or am I free to get back to my game?”
“Nah, I think I’m good now, thanks.”
“Anytime,” Bård grinned.
An hour later the house was filled with family members, who had been Christmas shopping and getting the Christmas tree. They were served a beautiful dinner of cream potatoes, filled chicken breasts and fresh salad. Naturally, Bård didn’t forget to emphasize his importance on the success of the chicken dish, which for some reason elicited a massive laughing fit amongst the people around the table.
“We can always rely on Bård to provide the entertainment for us,” Momma Ylvisåker chuckled.