Daughter of a Witch

The Baking Experiment

It was a quiet Saturday morning in the Harkness-Vidal household. Y/n lay sprawled on the couch, flipping through a magazine, when her mom, Rio, peeked into the living room with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Y/n, I have an idea," she announced, hands on her hips.

Y/n looked up, instantly suspicious. "Uh-oh. What kind of 'idea'?"

Rio grinned. "Oh, nothing too wild. I just thought we could do a little baking."

Y/n perked up. "Baking? That actually sounds fun! But we should keep it simple, like cookies, right?"

Rio waved a dismissive hand. "Cookies are too safe! We can do better than that."

The two were flipping through a cookbook together at the kitchen counter a few minutes later. Rio's finger stopped on a particularly challenging recipe: croquembouche-a towering cone of cream puffs held together by golden threads of caramel. Y/n's eyes widened.

"Are you sure about this?" Y/n asked, half-laughing. "Mama isn't here to save us if we set the kitchen on fire."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Rio grinned, giving her a nudge. "Besides, we've got this! We just need a little creativity."

Y/n shook her head, already anticipating disaster. "Right... well, I left my sense of adventure back on 'cookies,' but sure. Let's do this."

They got to work, with Rio tackling the dough while Y/n took charge of the cream filling. Things started smoothly until Y/n reached for the butter and noticed it was nearly gone.

"Uh, Mom? We're low on butter," Y/n called, showing her the nearly empty dish.

Rio studied the recipe, frowned, and then headed to the pantry. A moment later, she emerged holding a bottle of olive oil with a triumphant look. "We'll just use olive oil instead!"

Y/n looked horrified, then laughed. "Mom, that's not how baking works!"

"Hey, olive oil's just butter's European cousin," Rio replied with a wink. "Trust me. We'll call it fusion baking!"

Y/n groaned but couldn't help laughing as she watched her mom measure out the oil. "This is going to be... unique."

Soon, the kitchen transformed into a whirlwind of chaos. Flour dusted the countertops, bowls and measuring cups piled up in the sink, and Rio was singing off-key to her favorite 80s playlist, much to Y/n's amusement. Every few minutes, Y/n would raise an eyebrow at one of Rio's "improvements."

"Mom, I'm pretty sure that's not what the recipe means by baking from scratch," Y/n teased as Rio tried to add a dash of cinnamon "for flair."

Rio waved her off, eyes gleaming. "Cooking's just like life: it's all about the improv!"

Despite Y/n's skepticism, they managed to get the dough and cream filling ready. Then came the assembly. They carefully filled each puff with cream and, after a few disastrous attempts, began to stack them. The tower was far from perfect-leaning slightly to one side and looking like it might topple over any second.

Y/n tried to drizzle caramel over the tower, aiming for elegant threads of gold, but the caramel hardened too quickly, forming sticky clumps. It looked more like an explosion than a drizzle. By the time they finished, both were sticky with caramel and giggling uncontrollably.

"Well, it's... unique," Y/n said, tilting her head and squinting at their lopsided masterpiece.

"'Unique' is just another word for 'perfection in disguise,'" Rio declared proudly, snapping a photo on her phone. "Let's taste this beauty."

They each took a cream puff and bit in, instantly wincing at the unusual combination of flavors: the sweetness of caramel clashing with the distinct, fruity undertone of olive oil.

They looked at each other for a moment before dissolving into laughter.

"Okay," Rio said, still giggling, "maybe we'll stick to cookies next time."

Y/n grinned, leaning against the counter. "Or wait until Mama's here to keep us from substituting half the ingredients!"

They laughed as they began to wash the dishes and clean the disaster-struck kitchen. Flour still covered half the counter, caramel dripped from various utensils, and sticky patches of sugar dotted the floor.

Just as they were finishing up, they heard the door creak open.

Agatha stepped into the kitchen, taking in the flour-streaked counters, the caramel-smothered mixing bowls, and the odd-looking croquembouche on the counter. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, giving them both a skeptical look.

"Can someone tell me what happened here?"

Rio grinned, wiping her hands on a floury towel. "Just a little... experiment."

Y/n chimed in, beaming. "We're calling it abstract baking."

Agatha stepped closer to inspect their creation, smirking as she took in the caramel clumps and uneven tower. "One Saturday out, and this is what I come home to?"

Y/n gave her a hopeful look. "Want to try one, Mama?"

Agatha hesitated, eyeing the oddly shiny cream puffs with suspicion before finally plucking one from the top of the pile. She took a tiny, cautious bite, then made a face that sent Y/n and Rio into another fit of laughter.

"Well..." Agatha looked from Y/n to Rio, eyes dancing with amusement. "It's definitely... creative."

Rio wrapped an arm around Agatha's waist, chuckling. "See? She gets it!"

Shaking her head in fond exasperation, Agatha pulled them both into a hug, caramel-sticky fingers and all. "Alright, next time you two decide to bake, you need wait until I am home."

The three of them laughed, and Y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of chaos, mess, and laughter that made their family so wonderfully unique.