The Muffin Tin
The scents of freshly baked muffins and cakes, pies and breads, fill
the air of the Hobbiton bakery, one of the neighbourhood's newest businesses.
Baked goodies line every countertop and case in sight, running down both
side walls and the back: perhaps you'd like to SEE A MENU and purchase
a few treats to take home, or to enjoy on an afternoon stroll?
Contents:
Emerald
Pinky
Mrs. Roper
Obvious exits:
Out
Morning's a fine time for a hobbit with a good nose, especially around bakeries and shops that sell baked goods, for morning is when those sweet-smelling slices of heaven arrive or are made. At this moment, a large basket resting on the counter of the Muffin Tin, where its owner - one Pink Gamgee - is busy delivering some of her specialities. Presently that entails blueberry muffins, cinammon buns with a nut-laden, sticky topping, and raisin bread. When she lifts the cover from her basket to place the items where they belong on the shop shelves, a beguiling aroma spreads out, quickly filling the room. These things are still warm. And a spot of flour lingers on Pinky's nose.
Emerald looks about, wondering why it was so quiet as there were two other Hobbits already in the room.
Morning weighs heavy upon the eyes and minds of some hobbits in the morning hours. But not all. There are som who are accustomed to the morning routine, and are up much before the bustle of Hobbiton comes alive with shopkeepers and customers. One of these such people is Samwise Gamgee, the gardener of Bag End (who frequently doubles as anything from cook to doorman.
The fog outside is thick, so the windows are just about useless for viewing approaching customers. Sam appears out of no where, emerging through the front door of the Muffin Tin, eyes down and riveted to a piece of paper. He seems to be comtemplating whatever is written on it with utmost concentration. "Err..." he drones, then bites down on his tongue. He frowns slightly. "Says here..." (an incoherent mumble) "three o'those..." (a grunt) "I s'pose I'll just get what I can read. Looks like Mr. Frodo made this list awful hasty. Seems more like chicken scratches than letters, I'll warrant," Samwise sighs, and looks up at the counter. "Oh, hey Pinky. Morning! Whew... smells better'n anything in here!"
"Well, that's be as it should, Sam," answers Pinky with a broad smile to her cousin, then she winks at him, inviting, "Make yourself at home, there, dearie, and soon as I can, I'll get you something for that tum of yours." She continues ferrying buns, muffins, and bread from basket to tray, whistling happily. "What's Mr Frodo been wanting today, then, hrm? I'll be betting a batch of my mushroom pies, but he'll have to be waiting for them until's I get back to make them. Cherry tarts later too, for certain."
Sam's attention is swayed easily, especially at the mention of ... food for his tum! "That'd be might kind of you, Pink--my tum's been growling all morning since I got up, but I haven't got the time to get more than one breakfast in," laments Samwise, shaking his head sadly. But to his task! He holds up his list and waves it about, looking dismayed. "That's the trouble, though, with Mr. Frodo and all. Bless him, he's as great a master I could look for, but the thing... thing is, I can't read a bit of what he wrote here--all but 'seecakes'... and 'three of'... and 'cherry--' something..."
Laughing, Pinky takes care of priorities first and slices off some gingerbread, carting a small pan from behind her to drizzle over the plate. It will prove, on tasting, to be a sweet, buttery flavored sauce that has been warmed behind the counter. Here, it seems, Miss Gamgee is allowed to wander around as need be. "There, now, try that and let me know what you'd be thinking of it," she asks before squinting at the piece of paper Sam possesses. "I'll just be getting six o' this, four o' that. I knows what he likes."
Sam takes a deep breath, and takes the gingerbread as if it were made of pure gold. He sniffs it first, brows going up at the lovely smell. "Oh, but don't that smell good, now? Bet it's as good when you taste it, now, don't it?" Sam bites down on the dainty, and immediately his face relaxes into a state of pure bliss. Sam's eyes cloes, and his shoulders relax, and he's lost a moment in the sweet, aromatic, wonderful taste that is barraging his senses. "Oh, but don't that beat all?" he sighs happily, swallowing down the bite. "I'm sure Mr. Frodo'd take a fancy to these, too, y'know. Best add a few on to his order."
Bramblerose cheerfully enters the bakery, shes had a pretty good day. In fact, she's even got a couple of coins left over from last night since someone else refilled her ale. She feels veritably RICH, even with a few copper coins. "Pinky!" she calls around to see if her cousin is about.
She spots Samwise and smiles broadly as she comes over. "Well." she pokes him in the ribs. "If it isn't Mr.Amazing himself. You know Sam.." she begins in a chiding tone, though there is quite a twinkle in her eye. "If you're not careful, you're going to have every tweenaged hobbit and their mother following you around like lost puppies."
"Back here, dear!" Cheerful as ever, Pinky is putting together some things in a parcel for Sam. Or, one would imagine, Mr Frodo by extension. The entire shop smells lusciously of the baked goods she has just placed on the shelves, and the scents of butter, bread, and cinammon are headily heavy in the air. "Right, then, Sam, a few slices of gingerbread. Bramb, love, are you wanting a wee snack as well, then? This raisin bread is grand with a smidge of butter atop it."
Sam's look of perplexity is beyond all comprehension. He regards Bramblerose with complete and utter bewilderment--his brows furrowed, one brow raises a bit, mouth slightly ajar, and and hazel eyes wide. "Wha?" he asks, shaking his head as if dispelling a bad vision. "What're you going on about, Bramblerose Gamgee?" He waves his other cousin off with his hand, somewhat impatiently--but there is a creeping redness that seems to make its way up and over his cheeks from his ears. Changing the subject quickly, he brings his attention back to Pinky. "Yeah, and your raisin bread is worth its weight in copper, y'know."
Bramblerose claps her hands, "Aye, Raisen bread, if you please, Pinky. Got a couple of coins left from yesterday. Mr. Finigrin felt up to refilling ale an' all." she drops the coins on the counter after fishing them out of her pocket. "Seems you went an' got yourself into a sort of celebrity position there, cousin. Working at Bag-end and all. Some silly hobbits will take anything as an excuse to put someone up above the other. They might soon be talking about -your- deep pockets, knowing the gossips." she's quite amused by it all, and winks at Samwise. "What do you think, Pinky?"
Pinky thbbts at that thought, chortling, "Now, Bramb, don't you be giving our Sam any muff about some silly tweenager what's found him attractive. Why, he's as good a hobbit as anyone else in the Shire, he is, and there's no mistaking it." She puts two thin slices of raisin bread on a plate with butter still melting its way across each slice; this is placed in front of Bramblerose before the baker waddles back to work. "Besides, Samwise, some might say 'tis high time and all that you found yourself someone."
Poor Samwise. He's caught between two chatty hobbits--even worse, two chatty hobbits of the female persuasion--and even *worse*, two who are related to him! He's got to take it. He sighs, despondently, and shoves his hands into his pockets. "It ain't like that, really, Bram. I don't know who or what you're going on about. And it ain't high time for nothing," says the suddenly shy Samwise, turning redder by the moment. He kicks at the floor with his foot, and bites his lower lip with quite a bit of ferocity. "'Sides, maybe I got my mind on someone else, eh? I like folks, plenty, and... well, anyone who knows me know I... I'm just Sam. Anyone who says otherwise is a ninnyhammer, I say."
Bramblerose's merry laugh echos through the bakery as she digs into the bread with her customary relish. Between mouthfulls, she seems to agree with Pinky. "A fine one, sure. And I don't know about -you-, Pinky, but I'm sure as certain that our Sam isn't going to settle for just anyone."...she pauses, as she picks out a remark in his answer. "Ahhh. I knew it!" she does not elaborate, deciding her poor cousin has taken enough torment for the moment. "Just keep in mind Sam, make sure -she- ain't a ninnyhammer and we'll all be right and happy for you."
To that Pinky nods vigorously as she bustles to bundle up the goodies that Sam has requested on behalf of his Bag End employer. The basket is carried to the seated gardener and presented with a smile and something of pride. "Now, you just make certain Mr Frodo knows that I have some special pies waiting for him!" she demands laughingly before adding, "There's a wee jar o' that sauce for the gingerbread in there too, Sam, just warm it." Then she scraches her nose and remarks wearily, "The day's wasting for me, and I'm sorry to tell ye both I've gots ta get back to work, I do."
Relief floods over Sam's features as he takes the basket from Pinky, and he smiles gratefully. "Yes, yes, same with me, Pink. The day's a moving on swift already, and I've got plenty of work to be doing in the garden--if I can see through the fog, that is. Tends that the fog lifts a bit up top of Bag End, though. Gotta plant some vegetables today--cabbages and carrots and all," says Samwise, bobbing his head up and down. He nods to his cousins, and winks to them--then turns toward the door. But he doesn't leave yet. He smiles a little, and says to Bramblerose. "Rest assured--she ain't no ninnyhammer, Bram."
Bramblerose grins widely. "I've got to get back to the Row and help out Aunt, myself. Mind if I tag along? No one's going to fall at your feet while I'm around, believe you an' me." She puts the second piece in a bag. "Excellent as usual Pinky! You are a wonder!" she runs her fingers against a piece of cloth from her pocket wiping off excess butter.
"Happy for the company, love," Pinky responds gleefully, empty delivery basket on her arm again. "All right, then, off we go. Cheers, Samwise. And come by later for those pies!"