The awkward situation today would go on to teach Alexander some realities about his house.
He would learn that without the proper escort or any identifying features, even he could not access all parts of his own house and this would lead him to introduce some uniforms and color codes, particularly the use of the color purple to represent this family.
But those were his future plans as for now Alexander was trying to think of a way out of this situation.
And to that end, he tried to make small talk, “So, how are things at your end?”
“It was okay. Until now,” Mean put her hands on hips as she raised an inquisitive eyebrow towards Alexander.
She wanted to know what he was doing here and why he was being called an intruder in his own house.
“Hehe, well it’s a long story,” Alexander awkwardly chuckled.
“Julkain, you can let go of him. He’s Pasha Alexander,” Menes let out a small sigh at the shell-shocked woman, who had gone pale as a ghost, aghast and appalled at her own offense.
‘He…he’s the pasha. I ..I..physically assaulted … assau…ohhhh,’ Julkain didn’t have the mental strength to finish her own sentence as she felt the world around her go all dark, the light in it all sucked away, and then she lost her vision completely.
She had lost consciousness out of sheer fright.
‘I’m not that scary am I?’ Alexander remarked as he heard the head hit the solid stone floor. ｂｎ𝚘ｖ𝚕．𝚘𝚛𝚐
“All of you, what are you doing gawking? Return to work you lazy assholes!” Mean swung her tiny fists and barked her order.
Though she very much wanted to mock Alexander, Mean used all her strength to hold it back so as to not humiliate Alexander publicly.
‘Wait till mistress hears about this,’ Mean’s eyes twinkled as she stared down Alexander like a hawk eyes it’s prey, causing Alexander to easily understand the meaning.
‘Oh, god!’ Alexander could only lampoon.
Mean’s scream seemed to un-pause time in the kitchen as its workers immediately lowered their heads and returned to their work, fearful of drawing their boss’s wrath.
Or at least pretended to as the same thoughts ran through all their minds, ‘Why is the pasha here? Did we do something wrong? Are we gonna get punished? What did we do?’
None could concentrate on their work until such questions could be answered.
“Juminus, think nothing of it. Now, go back to your post.” Alexander too gave his command as he waved his hands as a ‘you are excused gesture,’.
And added, “Oh, and take this lady with you and sprinkle water on her face.”
The guards didn’t need any more encouragement to escape their faux pa and after saluting and wishing Alexander well, the guards endeavored to make themselves incognito as soon as possible, eager to forget the time they raised their swords against their own lords.
‘Thankfully Ale…the pasha is magnanimous,’ The leader of the guards Juminus said in his heart, relieved that Alexander didn’t even say anything to him for blurting out his name, which was almost a capital offense against the nobility.
And with all this done, Mean gestured for Alexander to follow her to a quiet part of the kitchen.
“So, why are you here?’ Once there, the tiny girl imperiously asked him, with her nostrils flaring and chins pointed up.
‘How do I feel like she’s gazing down at me, when in reality she’s looking up?’ Alexander asked himself.
“I wanted to make a new dish,” Came Alexander’s simple answer.
“New dish? What is it?” This was not the first time Alexander created a new cuisine and so Mean didn’t discredit the man.
Instead, she was actually quite intrigued.
Alexander’s dishes were either very useful like smoked sausages, or very tasty like the beetroot juices.
“It’s made with flour, eggs, bacon, cheese, and water,” Alexander gave a very rough and a bit wrong description.
“Okay, come with me. I have all those,” Mean signaled Alexander to follow her,
And so under the watchful eyes of the curious and frightened servants, who lowered their heads the moment Alexander laid eyes upon them, Alexander was escorted to a bit of clean, small table with two earthen stoves next to it.
“What do you need first?” Mean inquired.
And after hearing Alexander’s answer, presented him with some ground floor, eggs, olive oil, and a small wooden spoon.
“Watch. The dish I’m about to make is called carbonara,” Chef Alexander instructed Mean, who was very curiously standing beside him.
“First, we will make something called pasta,” Alexander started.
“We will take the flour, make a little hill out of it and then make a little well in the center.” Because there were no measuring tools, Alexander decided to go by feel on the amount of flour.
“Then we add three eggs into the well and add a dash of olive oil, and then we beat it real well,” Alexander then used the small wooden spoon, though he would have liked a fork, to thoroughly mix the yolk and whites together,
“And then we knead for a solid ten-fifteen minutes,” Alexander said as he then proceeded to squeeze the two ingredients thoroughly, using his hands to evenly coat the flour with the eggs.
“And once the dough has become smooth and elastic, we let it rest for about thirty minutes,” FInished kneading he placed the large dough aside.
Usually, Alexander would plastic wrap the dough to prevent any contact with air, but he had no such luck here.
Instead, he decided to wrap it in a clean piece of cloth which was better than nothing.
“While the dough rests, we can move to make the other stuff. Get me some ham and cheese, and lots of ground pepper please” Alexander asked and after some time, Mean personally procured them for him.
“The dish usually uses cured poked jowl (Guanciale) but the belly (Pancetta) can also be used. I like both,” Alexander informed Mean as he cut both pieces of meat, in a fifty-fifty ratio into tiny, bite-sized chunks.
Cured meat was a bit hard to find in Alexandre’s time, but here, in this time period, such meat was a penny a dozen.
“Then we make the sauce.” Alexander then grabbed some cheese and started grating it with a wooden grate.
Usually, pecorino or Parmigiano was used in carbonara, but Alexander used whatever cheese he had on hand.
“And once we have enough grated cheese, we add four egg yolks and three egg whites to the cheese. This will make our sauce richer,” Alexander cracked and dumped the eggs into the cheese mound while taking the time to separate the white from one of the eggs.
“And then we mix the whole thing together, remembering to add the black pepper. Lots of black pepper, like a lot!” Alexander said it thrice to emphasize just how much pepper he was gonna add as he added a copious amount of the powder.
Alexander then put a pot of water on the stove, saying to Mean, ” The water should be as salty as the sea,” as he added almost a fistful of salt.
The dough by then had enough time to rest so it was just a matter of rolling it into thin sheets using the rolling pin and then using a knife to cut it into thin, vertical pieces, thus making the world’s first pasta.
“We will cook our pasta and the pork at the same time,” Alexander said as he put the pasta into the boiling, rolling water while he placed the pork on another stove next to it, advising Mean, “We cook until the meat is fully cooked, letting the fat out, but not making it too crispy,”
Once the pork was cooked, it was taken off the heat and then the cooked pasta was added to it, as Alexander added, “You will want to work quickly now. Vigorously stir everything so the pasta soaks all the nice porky fat.”
“And add a bit of pasta water if you think it’s too dry,” Alexander said as he added half a cup of hot water.
“And then quickly add the sauce and stir even more quickly. It will be the residual heat of the pasta and the pork that will cook the egg and cheese slurry so it’s vital to work quickly,” Alexander again emphasized on speed as he worked the wooden spoon, mixing everything together.
“And then, after tasting for salt, we add even more black pepper, to top it all off,” Alexander finished his dish by transferring it to a large bowl.
“Have a taste,” Alexander gestured and handed Mean a spoon, while he himself spun the pasta noodles around his spoon and took a large helping.
It was good..ish.
Because he didn’t use the right cheese, it felt a bit weird, and the charcoal fire gave it a smoky, barbeque feeling that seemed to clash with the cheesy, eggy flavor.
But it only didn’t taste good to Alexander because he had a different flavor in mind.
Mean on the other hand had yet to make her comment as she was too busy going to seconds and thirds.
She liked this new dish.
No, she loved it.
The rich saltiness of the pasta perfectly balanced the spiciness of the black pepper, while the creamy richness of the egg and cheese and the chewy, meaty flavor of the guanciale and pancetta made her tongue dance in joy.
‘Alex does have some good points,’ Mean said to herself, as she wolfed down huge portions of the meal.