Masitda Restaurant, Baltimore, Wednesday Evening

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To tell the truth and shame the devil--a saying Kathy's mom had adored when she was alive--when Dante had suggested that they go out for Korean food, Kathy hadn't expected much. Dante didn't speak the language, didn't know the culture, and his only real introduction to the cuisine was what Kathy cooked at home and the hundred of weird bottle and jars of seasoning she kept in the door of the fridge, next to the more normal bottles of mayo and ketchup and relish. It wasn't that she was expecting it to be bad or anything, but she'd figured something middle-of-the-road, declaring its authenticity by blaring k-pop from the mid-2000s with two kinds of kimchi at most and a couple of sushi offerings to round out the 'Asianness' of the menu. All of which would have been perfectly fine and Kathy would have gone home, full and happy, and not given it another thought.

She realized she was wrong the moment they stepped into the restaurant. It smelled like home, evoking a sense of nostalgia and homesickness so sharp she rocked backwards on her heels for a moment. The table next to them had seven different banchan bowls on one side of it and over the shoulder of another patron, she could spot a menu page devoted entirely to different kinds of kimchi, several of which had seasonal warnings next to them. Apparently this place thought it wouldn't do to serve Yeolmu-kimchi in the middle of winter and you know what? They were goddamn right.

Kathy reached for Dante's hand, squeezing it tightly, letting her grip speak louder than she could right then about how pleased she was with his choice of restaurant for the evening.

[Not for broadcast and for that guy she's with!]

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Kathy pouted at him for a second, then stole a chunk of beef off his plate in retaliation, chopsticks flashing in her hand. She wasn't even sure she could eat it, but it was hers now and so there.

She sat back down, giving him a smile. "So, back to serious topics," she said, in a tone of voice that suggested they would be going back to that story in a bit, just maybe not here, "you still interested in trying my kimchi?"

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"Yeah, totally," Dante said, making a frowny face at the stealing of the beef.

"Isn't that like, a family thing in some way too?"

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"A family thing?" Kathy asked. She snagged a bit of kimchi in her chopsticks and held them out for him to eat. "What do you mean?"

It wasn't that he was wrong, more like there were so many ways he was right she needed to narrow it down to properly answer.

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"Like every family has their own kimchi or something?" Dante said. He shrugged helplessly. "Saw something on a show once."

He took the offered chopsticks after a short internal debate about whether or not to just eat the kimchi off of 'em while she was holding them.

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There was an instant of tug of war as Kathy held onto her chopsticks, confused about what he was doing. She'd intended for him to just eat it, yeah. But once it registered, she let go, sliding the sticks into his fingers. "Oh! Yeah, I see what you mean!" she said. "Yeah, like a lot of families make their own kimchi. Mom did sometimes, and old Mrs. Park from upstairs used to make a bunch and share with us, too. It's not quite a recipe, though? More like every old lady has an idea of the right way to do it, the correct proportions, the best mix of ingredients."

[rebelseekspizza]

Look, he was just trying to avoid them rolling back into topics that'd get them kicked out.

He popped the kimchi into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully while she talked, offering her the chopsticks back.

"So, you think you're ready to start training to be an old lady?"

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"I'm pretty sure I've been training to be a little old lady my whole life," Kathy snorted. "If it hadn't been for you and Ez and Anders, I probably would have gone from fifteen to sixty-three."

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"So get us some family kimchi," Dante said, grinning.

He chewed on it.

"'s not bad."

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"Get me a kimchi fridge and I will," Kathy retorted. "Kimchi has to sit in the fridge for a week or two to let all of the flavors blend, so it's really easy to run out of room for other things if you don't have a proper kimchi fridge." She beamed at him. "Glad you like it. There are so many different kinds of kimchi it's like pizza. At the base it's fairly similar, but the different seasonings and veggies can make it taste entirely different."

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"Fine, we'll get you a fridge," Dante said. "No big."

He reached to pick up another piece of meat. "So what's the one you like most?"

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"Which kimchi fridge?" Kathy asked blankly, brain still stuttering over how easily he'd just volunteered to get her an appliance. "I don't--I'd have to research--oh!"

There it was.

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"Oh?" Dante said, blinking.

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"You were asking if I had a favorite kimchi, not a favorite kimchi fridge...right?" Kathy checked.

Or maybe he really had been asking about her favorite kimchi fridge. At this point, she wasn't even sure.

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"Right," Dante said.

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"Sorry," Kathy said, ducking her head. "I was still kinda surprised at the idea of getting a kimchi fridge."

For all that she'd had a lot of money to spend back in high school with the money she'd gotten from Barry, she'd reverted pretty hard to more frugal habits upon coming back.

"Hmm...I'd have to say either baek or oi sobagi kimchi," she said, thinking about it. "Baek is white kimchi, light and kind fruity; not spicy at all. And then the oi sobagi is a stuffed cucumber kimchi. It's a light, summer kimchi, they don't keep for very long, but they're stuper-tasty. I think I lived on them for a few weeks in May."

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Dante grinned. "So California kimchi," he teased. "Got it."

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"Summery, sweet, a delicious?" Kathy asked archly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Sounds like California to me."

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"And now I miss you in miniskirts," Dante said, after a beat.

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"And I miss the way you look at me in miniskirts," Kathy agreed. "And what happens when I bend over in them in front of you."

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"It's time for summer," Dante said. "Sooo time for summer."

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"Miniskirts and bikini top," Kathy promised. "And bike rides that go for miles and end somewhere deserted."

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"Haven't done that in a while either," Dante said, reaching over to snag some of her kimchi. "Fuckin' winter."

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Kathy pushed forward another bowl so he could try a different variety this time, one with a heavier, smoky flavor, thick and savory. "I know," she said, with a slight shake of her head. "I'm so ready for spring. And warmth. And miniskirts."

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Dante chewed on the kimchi he'd pilfered first. He let out a sigh after he swallowed.

"And we're not even going anywhere tropical on the trip."

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"Maybe I'll just skip out on the island entirely while you're gone," Kathy threatened. "Just jet down to the Caribbean that week instead and lie out on the beach."