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cutthroatpixieTitle: Five Times House Attempted to Cook (And One Time He Didn't)
Fandom: House MD
Rating: PG
Pairing: House/Wilson
Word Count: 1,494
Fandom: House MD
Rating: PG
Pairing: House/Wilson
Word Count: 1,494
One morning, House woke up and realised he really wanted some pancakes. Macadamia nut pancakes, to be precise. The kind Wilson made, to be even more precise. After checking the couch and finding no Wilsons in sight, he decided to take the duty of feeding his stomach upon himself. How hard could it be?
He looked through his cupboards and found an expired bag of pancake mix and a handful of questionable nuts. He grabbed some eggs and a gallon of milk (also quite questionable) from the fridge and set to work.
The first time around, the batter was far too thick and it took too long for everything to cook, so the outside burned waiting for the inside to catch up.
The second batch had batter that was far too thin, so it was runny and gross and burned almost immediately.
With a, 'Bleh,' the two failed attempts were thrown into the waste bin. A third batch was started, but by then all of those questionable nuts were gone. 'Oh well,' House said. 'I'll add something else.' He looked through the cupboards again and found an old jar of peanut butter. He decided that should do, and added that to the newly made third batch of pancake batter.
Some of the pancakes were a little burned, and some were a little undercooked, but overall, they didn't look too vile, so House figured they must be okay.
After a quick look through the fridge, he realised, much to his chagrin, that he had absolutely no syrup at all. He opted for some butter instead, spread it on a few pancakes, and started to eat.
'What the hell?’ was his eventual response to the first mouthful, which was no doubt one of the worst things he had ever tasted. He looked at the directions, saw that he had followed them perfectly (minus the peanut butter), and proceeded to be quite confused. 'Huh,' he said. 'Wilson must actually have magic powers.' He threw the failed attempt at breakfast away and decided he should probably leave the pancake making to the professionals, a.k.a. Wilson.
---
The next time House awoke to the urge for a specific kind of food, he also awoke to a Wilson in his bed. It was midmorning, but said Wilson was not up blow drying hair, so House assumed no breakfast was awaiting his hunger. After poking Wilson, prodding Wilson, punching Wilson, and pinching Wilson, he decided Wilson was going to be quite useless in the food making department this morning, so he thought, 'How hard can an omelet be?' and set off to the kitchen.
It turned out that omelets were surprisingly difficult, as House discovered he did not actually have the first clue as to how to go about making one. He threw some eggs in a bowl (there may have been a bit of shell or two), and then threw them into a pan. He watched the mass cook for awhile before attempting to flip it over with one of Wilson's spatulas. Some of it flipped, but most of it scattered, mostly in the pan itself, but also on the stove, the floor, and on House. 'Fine, I guess I am making scrambled eggs,' said House, staging a spatula assault on said eggs.
'You don't need to be so harsh, you know,' came Wilson's sleepy voice from behind him. 'Eggs scrambled pretty easily, almost on their own, really.'
'Shut up,' was all House could think to say to that, so he instead turned his attention to dishing up the defeated blobs of egg. He handed a plate of eggs and a fork to Wilson, and proceeded to devour his own helping. He made a face when his tongue started to protest at the taste invading its buds.
He looked up to find Wilson was sporting a similar expression of disgust. 'These are uh-'
'Save it.' House took Wilson's plate and, along with his own, dumped it in the trash.
Wilson rolled his eyes and fished the plates out of the waste bin. 'These aren't paper, you know.'
House just scowled and returned to the bedroom. Wilson laughed and began to clean up House's mess.
---
The next time inspiration struck, House was not in bed, nor was it anywhere near breakfast time. It was late in the evening, he was alone, and he may or may not have been just a tad bit drunk. A box of instant mashed potatoes lay on the floor, its contents currently cooking away in the microwave (along with water and a bowl, of course). The mix came out overly gooey, as House did not even glance at the directions, but he just said, 'Oh well,' and started eating. He scrunched up his face. 'It's missing something...' He looked through the fridge, found a bottle of ketchup, dumped half the bottle on top of his 'mashed potatoes', and started eating the gelatinous mess once again.
When Wilson was cleaning the gunk out of the bowl the next morning, he decided he really just did not want to know.
---
It was 3:00 am and House was still up watching TV. Wilson had gone to bed hours ago, so when House's stomach rumbled, he just grabbed a frozen pizza from the freezer, turned the oven on, and put the pizza in. He looked at the timer, decided he could remember without it, and went back to watching TV. He watched one rerun of General Hospital, then started in on another, and somewhere along the line he closed his eyes just for a second. 'Just resting,' he thought.
He awoke half an hour later to smoke filling the apartment, the scream of a smoke alarm, and Wilson yelling at him to wake the hell up.
Oops.
---
After the pizza burning incident, Wilson had pretty much banned House from the kitchen ('But it's my kitchen!' 'And clearly you don't know how to use it.' 'But its mine!').
One afternoon about a month later, however, he found himself hungry and without a Wilson or said Wilson's wallet (Went to the store, be back soon a note on the counter claimed). In order to fix this dilemma of his, House grabbed a box of Macaroni and Cheese, read the directions for once, and started boiling the water.
After a few minutes of not-boiling, House grew impatient, decided the water must be hot enough, and dumped the macaroni noodles in it. After another few impatient minutes, he poked a noodle, shrugged, and drained the water. When he went to taste one, he found the noodles were far too hard and put more water into the pot.
The noodles cooked a bit longer, and the water was once again drained from the pot. They didn't look quite right, but House just shrugged and went to the fridge to get milk and butter. The former was completely missing from the premises, and the latter was scarce, so House just grumbled about stupid Wilsons and trips to the store, and put the small amount of butter on the noodles. He added the packet of cheese powder, mixed it all together with a spoon, and dished it up for himself.
When Wilson showed up an hour later with groceries, he was greeted by the sight of a decidedly unhappy House and a demand that he make lunch.
---
After that last failed attempt at cooking, House decided he should just leave any and all heated food endeavours to Wilson, who was still a little angry with him for almost burning the apartment down.
On this particular day, Wilson was in bed, having fallen victim to a particularly nasty cold. House thought he was putting up a brave fight, what without a useful Wilson around the house, but he knew he should not even attempt to go anywhere near anything in the kitchen that required electricity.
He grabbed some bread (newly bought), some jam (homemade), and some peanut butter (a fresh jar) and made a sandwich. He put the sandwich on a plate, cut it in half, and walked into the bedroom, where Wilson was laying down, making miserable sniffling sounds and other such things the ill tend to do. House sat down next to the sick man and handed him the smaller half of the peanut butter and jelly (well, jam) sandwich. 'Here,' he said. 'You sickly people need your sustenance.'
'Oh, of course. A sandwich a day keeps the doctor away and all that,' Wilson replied, sitting up and taking the sandwich with a smile on his face. He took a bite and said, 'Best sandwich I've ever tasted.'
'You, sir, are a liar, as I highly doubt you are tasting anything at all right now,' House said back.
'Oh well, I'm pretty sure even you can't screw something like this up.' He finished the sandwich, licked his sticky fingers, and settled himself back under the covers. House picked up the plate and quietly left the room.
Le Fin
He looked through his cupboards and found an expired bag of pancake mix and a handful of questionable nuts. He grabbed some eggs and a gallon of milk (also quite questionable) from the fridge and set to work.
The first time around, the batter was far too thick and it took too long for everything to cook, so the outside burned waiting for the inside to catch up.
The second batch had batter that was far too thin, so it was runny and gross and burned almost immediately.
With a, 'Bleh,' the two failed attempts were thrown into the waste bin. A third batch was started, but by then all of those questionable nuts were gone. 'Oh well,' House said. 'I'll add something else.' He looked through the cupboards again and found an old jar of peanut butter. He decided that should do, and added that to the newly made third batch of pancake batter.
Some of the pancakes were a little burned, and some were a little undercooked, but overall, they didn't look too vile, so House figured they must be okay.
After a quick look through the fridge, he realised, much to his chagrin, that he had absolutely no syrup at all. He opted for some butter instead, spread it on a few pancakes, and started to eat.
'What the hell?’ was his eventual response to the first mouthful, which was no doubt one of the worst things he had ever tasted. He looked at the directions, saw that he had followed them perfectly (minus the peanut butter), and proceeded to be quite confused. 'Huh,' he said. 'Wilson must actually have magic powers.' He threw the failed attempt at breakfast away and decided he should probably leave the pancake making to the professionals, a.k.a. Wilson.
---
The next time House awoke to the urge for a specific kind of food, he also awoke to a Wilson in his bed. It was midmorning, but said Wilson was not up blow drying hair, so House assumed no breakfast was awaiting his hunger. After poking Wilson, prodding Wilson, punching Wilson, and pinching Wilson, he decided Wilson was going to be quite useless in the food making department this morning, so he thought, 'How hard can an omelet be?' and set off to the kitchen.
It turned out that omelets were surprisingly difficult, as House discovered he did not actually have the first clue as to how to go about making one. He threw some eggs in a bowl (there may have been a bit of shell or two), and then threw them into a pan. He watched the mass cook for awhile before attempting to flip it over with one of Wilson's spatulas. Some of it flipped, but most of it scattered, mostly in the pan itself, but also on the stove, the floor, and on House. 'Fine, I guess I am making scrambled eggs,' said House, staging a spatula assault on said eggs.
'You don't need to be so harsh, you know,' came Wilson's sleepy voice from behind him. 'Eggs scrambled pretty easily, almost on their own, really.'
'Shut up,' was all House could think to say to that, so he instead turned his attention to dishing up the defeated blobs of egg. He handed a plate of eggs and a fork to Wilson, and proceeded to devour his own helping. He made a face when his tongue started to protest at the taste invading its buds.
He looked up to find Wilson was sporting a similar expression of disgust. 'These are uh-'
'Save it.' House took Wilson's plate and, along with his own, dumped it in the trash.
Wilson rolled his eyes and fished the plates out of the waste bin. 'These aren't paper, you know.'
House just scowled and returned to the bedroom. Wilson laughed and began to clean up House's mess.
---
The next time inspiration struck, House was not in bed, nor was it anywhere near breakfast time. It was late in the evening, he was alone, and he may or may not have been just a tad bit drunk. A box of instant mashed potatoes lay on the floor, its contents currently cooking away in the microwave (along with water and a bowl, of course). The mix came out overly gooey, as House did not even glance at the directions, but he just said, 'Oh well,' and started eating. He scrunched up his face. 'It's missing something...' He looked through the fridge, found a bottle of ketchup, dumped half the bottle on top of his 'mashed potatoes', and started eating the gelatinous mess once again.
When Wilson was cleaning the gunk out of the bowl the next morning, he decided he really just did not want to know.
---
It was 3:00 am and House was still up watching TV. Wilson had gone to bed hours ago, so when House's stomach rumbled, he just grabbed a frozen pizza from the freezer, turned the oven on, and put the pizza in. He looked at the timer, decided he could remember without it, and went back to watching TV. He watched one rerun of General Hospital, then started in on another, and somewhere along the line he closed his eyes just for a second. 'Just resting,' he thought.
He awoke half an hour later to smoke filling the apartment, the scream of a smoke alarm, and Wilson yelling at him to wake the hell up.
Oops.
---
After the pizza burning incident, Wilson had pretty much banned House from the kitchen ('But it's my kitchen!' 'And clearly you don't know how to use it.' 'But its mine!').
One afternoon about a month later, however, he found himself hungry and without a Wilson or said Wilson's wallet (Went to the store, be back soon a note on the counter claimed). In order to fix this dilemma of his, House grabbed a box of Macaroni and Cheese, read the directions for once, and started boiling the water.
After a few minutes of not-boiling, House grew impatient, decided the water must be hot enough, and dumped the macaroni noodles in it. After another few impatient minutes, he poked a noodle, shrugged, and drained the water. When he went to taste one, he found the noodles were far too hard and put more water into the pot.
The noodles cooked a bit longer, and the water was once again drained from the pot. They didn't look quite right, but House just shrugged and went to the fridge to get milk and butter. The former was completely missing from the premises, and the latter was scarce, so House just grumbled about stupid Wilsons and trips to the store, and put the small amount of butter on the noodles. He added the packet of cheese powder, mixed it all together with a spoon, and dished it up for himself.
When Wilson showed up an hour later with groceries, he was greeted by the sight of a decidedly unhappy House and a demand that he make lunch.
---
After that last failed attempt at cooking, House decided he should just leave any and all heated food endeavours to Wilson, who was still a little angry with him for almost burning the apartment down.
On this particular day, Wilson was in bed, having fallen victim to a particularly nasty cold. House thought he was putting up a brave fight, what without a useful Wilson around the house, but he knew he should not even attempt to go anywhere near anything in the kitchen that required electricity.
He grabbed some bread (newly bought), some jam (homemade), and some peanut butter (a fresh jar) and made a sandwich. He put the sandwich on a plate, cut it in half, and walked into the bedroom, where Wilson was laying down, making miserable sniffling sounds and other such things the ill tend to do. House sat down next to the sick man and handed him the smaller half of the peanut butter and jelly (well, jam) sandwich. 'Here,' he said. 'You sickly people need your sustenance.'
'Oh, of course. A sandwich a day keeps the doctor away and all that,' Wilson replied, sitting up and taking the sandwich with a smile on his face. He took a bite and said, 'Best sandwich I've ever tasted.'
'You, sir, are a liar, as I highly doubt you are tasting anything at all right now,' House said back.
'Oh well, I'm pretty sure even you can't screw something like this up.' He finished the sandwich, licked his sticky fingers, and settled himself back under the covers. House picked up the plate and quietly left the room.
Le Fin
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 11:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-20 11:52 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment. <3
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:09 am (UTC)that was so very very cute! and I'm a horrible cooker too, but I really can't screw up peanut butter sandwich.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:40 am (UTC)Thanks! So am I, but I make one mean peanut butter sammich. Haha.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 01:19 am (UTC)MWAH! I giggled myself silly at that line.
Hilarious. Totally. :-)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 02:11 am (UTC)I can't remember all the times I've screwed up in the kitchen myself! (I suck at cooking, but nowadays I AM able to follow a SIMPLE recipe!)
...But I remember many a pancake batters going down the sink... >_<
At least my scones are delicious xD
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:48 am (UTC)Thanks for the comment. =)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:50 am (UTC)Thanks for the comment. =)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 10:05 am (UTC)Ha, House talks to pancakes. 'What the hell?' (I once talked to my stove after I "boiled" water for 10 minutes on the wrong heating plate, the one that wasn't turned on. 'You utter bastard!')
He could flip the omelet in the air, really, he's got the juggling skills, hasn't he?
Homemade jam makes me squee. I think I know who didn't cook it.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 10:10 am (UTC)Of course House talks to pancakes. Why wouldn't he?
I like to pretend Wilson makes jam like my mother makes jam. That is to say, ohgoditissogood.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 12:35 pm (UTC)lol. I can so see that House/Wilson argument.
This was funny. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 08:59 am (UTC)Thanks. =)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 01:29 pm (UTC)House can do so many things, would he screw up cooking that much? I don´t know. Even if not, this was huge fun to read. I guess on show they´ll surprise us somewhen because I think he´s just too lazy to occupy himself with cooking or well... obtaining food in a way normal people would in general.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:00 am (UTC)There has to be something he can't do. =P Who knows, I've always imagined him as a bad cocok. Haha.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 01:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:01 am (UTC)Thanks a bunch for reading! Glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-21 05:41 pm (UTC)House tried it over and over and over again but once you tasted a food made by Wilson nothing will be like this anymore =D
I wish Jimmy could cook for me ^^
BTW I luv yur icon³ <3
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:03 am (UTC)Thanks for reading. I like your icon too. =)
no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 05:01 am (UTC)you = amazing
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-22 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:06 am (UTC)Your icon. XD That thing on the Simpsons cracks me up.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 06:59 am (UTC)