Dango 101

Keay had been wary when approaching the Dango shop. He’d never been a good cook to say the least. In fact he used to terrify his favorite littermate quite on accident with his accidents. But he’d fallen in love with Dan’s Dango after Akaito’s lessons.. And he couldn’t find a reliable way to bribe the albino Greed-Bun into making him his favorites. So, he found himself outside the shop tittering on his hooves, trying not to bolt back to his own little hole. 

Taking a deep breath, then pushed past the curtain door, and called out, “Hello?” He paused, looking around and not seeing a soul. “I’m here for the class?” His voice nearly cracked on the word ‘class’. 

Immediately the greyed out Pride-Bun, came out of the back of the shop to look Keay up and down. “You’re late then.” 

“Sorry..” The eye covered bun replied, chuckling a bit in discomfort.

“Apology accepted. Follow me.” Dan was brisk, probably pressed to get back to his lesson. “There.” He said shortly after both himself and Keay had come through to the back of the workshop, pointing to one of the few empty stations in the room. It was marked with a small marker that held only one word, “Mitarashi”. One of his favorites for sure, but with the glaze.. Oh no. What if he had to use a burner for it. All he could smell in his mind was the reek of burnt sugar. 

Keay’s eyes widened, almost ready to ask if there was another booth. But, Dan’s hard gaze made him hush and quickly take his position. 

What he had missed was easy enough for Dan to catch him up on since he was working with the Mitarashi recipe. The actual dango were the most simple, just the base recipe with nothing added. So he carefully mixed the rice flour with cool water and kneaded and rolled them into perfect little dumplings. It was satisfying, fun really. He could see himself doing this often to calm down from a rough day instead of heading to The Rabbit Hole.

“Now place your dango in the pots I’ve set up for you. Once they rise to the surface, wait two more minutes, then remove them.” When none of the pupils moved, Dan huffed, “Now.” 

Everyone but Keay scrambled to follow the instructions. He instead tried to carefully place each little ball into the boiling water, nearly burning the fur around his hooves with each splash. He was the last to finish, but the dango looked perfect. “Place three onto each of the sticks I have provided. Then for most of you, you’re done. One by one you may bring a stick to me and I will judge them for you.” 

Keay held his breath watching each person bring them up, approved of or disapproved of. As the last person approached, the began to skewer his own - ignoring the final congratulations and hand out of “prizes” to the few who had passed. 

After everyone but himself and one other had filed out, Dan returned his attention to the work stations. “Now… Mitarashi is simple with its dango, but the glaze makes all the difference between a good set and a horrible one. You must also grill them, or at least char them with some sort of flame source. Do either of you think you would prefer your own flame source?” His eyes seemed challenging, obviously a man of tradition.

Keay raised a single hoof. “While… I would love to learn your traditional ways, Dan, I don’t believe my home has the resources at home to grill them properly; and-” He gulped. The way Dan pondered his statement made his tail twitch in nerves. 

“That is acceptable. You may whatever in the workshop most closely resembles your home's utilities or make do with what you have on you. The guide to the glaze is in the book on your station. I have some dango dough to prepare for a special order; but I will be back after.” 

Keay struggled with the instructions. They were well written for sure, but the glaze was so simple that it was complicated. It took him three tries - luckily he managed to clear the air of the smell of burnt sugar from the first two attempts, despite the bitter look his learning companion shot his way - but eventually it was good enough. Biting his lip, he pulled out the spider engraved Zippo that he had found next to his Phantomile and reminded him so much of his favorite littermate that he’d lost contact with long ago. Flipping it open and flicking it to light, he carefully charred each of the dango. 

Not long after, Dan returned. He sniffed the air but didn’t seem to find anything noxious in it. “Now drizzle the glaze over all but one of your dango. I’d like to try your charred dango separately to see if skill is only lacking in the glaze.” Keay did as instructed and held his breath, closing his eyes as Dan judged his companion. He tried not to listen to the praise and gift giving. And only moments later Dan stood before his station while the last other bun left the room.

The dango-master took one whole ball off the skewer (which had no glaze)with his teeth and chewed. “Your charr is quite good. I’m surprised you managed without the traditional fire.” Then he moved onto the glaze one, a small crinkle of his nose at the taste. “Your… glaze certainly needs work.” He murmured looking over at the pot and noticing the burnt pieces inside it. “Ah, you had trouble cleaning the pot between your burnt batches didn’t you.” There was sympathy in his face. “Well.. Usually with this outcome I wouldn’t give you the ‘prize’ that I promise to those who pass my class. However,” he thought for a moment, “your dango is magnificent. If you agree to practice the glaze on its own before you make another batch even if it’s just for yourself, I’ll send you home with the supplies.”

Keay nodded wordlessly, his heart pounding wondering if he’d actually passed the class.

“Alright then.” Dan hummed and moved back toward his own station coming back with a small bag of his perfectly mixed rice flour and a single skewer. “Congratulations on your conclusion of my Dango-101 class. If you would like further lessons, I can make no promises on when they’ll be open; but I’ve thought about creating a more advanced class. Check back later if that interests you.”

Keay couldn’t speak. So instead he bowed his respect carefully and scrambled from the shop, still clutching the goods.