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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

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Chopped

Part Ten of If You Can't Take the Heat

You Got a Minute? | Masterlist | To Market

Pairing: Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto x Reader

Rating: M (though it may have explicit chapters in the future)

Notes: Welcome back! I hope y’all are having a nice week!❣️ Also no worries, there’s another chapter incoming, it just doesn’t have a name yet.

Also also we will return to the land of plot next chapter. This one is just for funsies.

Warnings: Fluff! Chopped! Not beta-read.

Summary: It seems more like something Carmy might make at the shop—a panini spilling over with bright vegetables, chicken, and oozing cheese. There’s a serving of fries there as well, and you know that they’re handcut and baked.

“First baskets are ready to go…Please open your first basket.”

“Babe, it’s starting,” You call out, eyes set on the television as the contestants open their baskets. “Do you want me to come help you?”

“Nah, you’re good. Turn it up!” Carmy calls back. You reach out, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up so that Carmy can hear it from your kitchen. Ted Allen’s voice rings out across your living room:

“Green tomatoes…”

“I’m looking at these tomatoes, and I’m just thinking uh, I hate these,” Groans one of the contestants.

“Venison,” Ted Allen goes on.

“Ooo,” You frown, brow furrowing. “What even is venison?”

“Deer meat,” Carmy says, setting two plates down on the coffee table in front of you. You glance down, and do a double-take at the sight of the food there as the scent of it catches your nose.

“Damn, babe. That looks good,” You reach out, taking your plate up. It seems more like something Carmy might make at the shop—a pannini spilling over with bright vegetables, chicken, and oozing cheese. There’s a serving of fries there as well, and you know that they’re handcut and baked. You reach out, taking your plate and leaning back in your seat, popping a fry into your mouth with a groan. When you look up again, you find that the chefs are already off and running.

“Wait, what else did they get?” You ask.

“Water chestnuts and wonton wrappers.”

“No.”

“Mhm.”

“Those wonton wrappers are so dangerous…What would you do?” You ask, glancing at Carmy.

“Bacon wrapped venison bite. Use the wonton as a little bowl, pan sear the venison ,” He answers without a second thought. “Throw the water chestnuts and the green tomatoes into a puree, add some shallots, garlic, some heavy cream. Give a brighter taste to the bite—cut through the salt, counter the crunch.”

You blink at Carmy, stunned, watching as he plucks up a couple of fries and pops them into his mouth.

“...How long did it take you to come up with that?” You ask. Carmy just shrugs nonchalantly, reaching out and taking his beer. You smile, shaking your head and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“Fricking genius chef.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Gordon Ramsey’s got nothin’ on you.”

“Eat your food,” Carmy presses. “It’s getting cold.”

You can see, though, that his cheeks are pinking with flattery. You’re perfectly content to lean back and watch Chopped, but Carmy mutters to himself every now and again—between bites, after sips—completely unprompted.

“Plating always makes me the most nervous,” You mutter as you watch the four chefs hurriedly put their food up. “Like, what if you drop something?”

“What do you do if you drop something when you’re bartending?” Carmy asks, glancing back toward you as the four chefs line up to

“Laugh it off in person but, like, scream on the inside.”

“But you keep going, right?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I have to.”

“So do they.”

You scoff, leaning back in your seat. “Alright—Michelin Miyagi.”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me!” You crow as one of the contestants leaves. “That’s insane!”

“No it is not—”

“The other guy left off a basket ingredient!”

“Yeah, but raw pork could kill someone.”

You consider Carmy's argument before you slouch back, grumbling.

“For your main course, we have…”

You half-shove the remainder of your panini into your mouth as Ted Allen begins to introduce the new ingredients.

“Swordfish…Fennel seeds…”

You glance toward Carmy as he gives a short nod, and lets out an appreciative hum.

“Maraschino cherries…And potato chips.”

“Breading for the swordfish?” You pipe up.

“Good,” Carmy nods, pointing at you without looking away from the television. “If you grilled it, that would be good. Drain and rinse the cherries, turn that into a salsa.”

“What about the fennel seeds?”

“Add it to the swordfish. Some paprika, garlic, lemon.”

“...Hell, I’d eat that.”

“Wow—”

“Saw that coming,” You mutter. “You can’t just shove something into a blender with cream and call it a hummus.”

“Amateur hour,” Carmy agrees. You watch, smiling as Carmy scooches down om the couch, resting his head on your lap. You reach down, tenderly combing your fingers through his hair as Ted Allen proclaims:

“And your dessert must feature…Granny Smith apples…Sweet vermouth…”

“Curveball,” You mutter.

“Gingerbread…And apricot paste.”

“Ice cream?” You ask.

“Mm…With what?” Carmy asks, tipping his head up to look at you.

“The apricot paste and vermouth? Turn the gingerbread crumbs into a crumble…”

“And the apples?”

“....Okay, I take it back, make a little, like…apple pie?”

Carmy considers for a moment.

“I’d make an apricot ice cream, use the vermouth to cook season the apples with, and use the gingerbread as a crumble.”

“...Yeah, you know what,” You nod. “That’s the move.”

“Uh-huh…Good jumping-off point, though.”

“You're too kind, Berzatto.”

Carmy huffs softly, amused.

“...You’re pretty good at this,” He comments.

“You’re a freaking rockstar at this, but like…Knew you would be…I'll do the dishes after this.”

"I got 'em."

"You cooked, it's only fair."

“...We'll do 'em after the next episode.”

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#Carmy Berzatto x Reader #Carmy Berzatto x You #Carmy Berzatto/Reader #Carmy Berzatto/You #Carmy Berzatto fic #Carmy Berzatto imagine #If You Can't Take the Heat

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