"Anya, watch carefully," Gustave demonstrated patiently, tossing a tennis ball into the air with practiced ease. "Throw the ball up gently like this, then swing the racket to hit it. Nice and simple, right?"
"Yes! Anya understands perfectly!" she declared with absolute confidence, nodding vigorously.
She mimicked his motion, throwing the ball up with reasonable accuracy. Everything looked promising until she swung the racket. Her first attempt missed the ball entirely, while her second sent the racket flying from her loosened grip like a wayward projectile.
Is her athletic coordination really this poor? Gustave wondered, dodging the spinning racket. Maybe I'm expecting too much too quickly.
"Don't worry, Anya. Let's try again," he encouraged, retrieving the racket. "This time, keep a firm grip on the handle. Watch the ball with your eyes, predict where it's going, then swing to meet it. You've got this!"
"Uh-huh!" Anya's expression radiated determination and confidence. Now it's Anya's time to shine!
The second attempt showed marginal improvement - at least the racket stayed in her hands. But she still missed the ball completely, and her overly enthusiastic swing created so much momentum that she spun in a complete circle and tumbled onto the soft grass.
For a moment, she lay there looking stunned. Then her lower lip began to tremble, her eyes grew wide with wounded pride, and the telltale signs of impending tears appeared.
"Hey, it's okay! You're doing great!" Gustave quickly helped her up, brushing grass from her clothes with gentle care. "That was much better than the first try."
"Really, Big Brother Gustave?" she asked with a quavering voice.
"Absolutely. Learning tennis takes lots of practice. You'll get the hang of it," he assured her warmly.
But privately, his thoughts were less optimistic: Poor kid doesn't seem to have much natural athletic ability. This is going to be a long process. We'll have to take it one small step at a time.
Hearing his inner doubts through her telepathic abilities, Anya felt her heart sink. Big Brother Gustave is lying to make me feel better, she realized with a mixture of hurt and determination. But Anya will show him! Anya isn't stupid and will become amazing at tennis!
With renewed resolve, she grabbed the racket and marched back to her practice area. "Anya won't give up!"
Well, at least her attitude is excellent, Gustave thought approvingly. Persistence counts for a lot.
Time flowed by as Anya threw herself into learning with stubborn dedication. By five o'clock, she could finally make occasional contact with the ball - a genuine improvement that filled her with pride.
"Anya, why don't we take a break?" Gustave suggested gently. "You've been practicing for hours without rest. I need to start preparing dinner anyway."
"No way! Anya needs to practice more!" she declared defiantly, sweat beading on her forehead but determination burning in her eyes.
Gustave sighed, recognizing the futility of arguing with a determined five-year-old. He spotted Tom lounging in the shade and had an inspiration.
"Tom! Come here and help Anya with her tennis, would you?" he called out, rousing the cat from his afternoon nap.
For tonight's feast, Gustave's main responsibility was elegantly simple: two whole roasted lambs. He'd been planning this centerpiece since they'd arrived, knowing that nothing brought people together quite like the communal experience of sharing perfectly prepared meat.
He secured both lambs on sturdy rotating spits over the fire pit, then began the first critical step: brushing them with honey water. This initial coating would caramelize beautifully during cooking, creating the golden color and crispy texture that made roasted lamb irresistible.
Most chefs preferred low, slow roasting for whole animals to prevent burning, but Gustave had complete confidence in his technique. He used high heat throughout the process, turning the spits frequently to ensure even cooking on all sides.
The honey glaze required multiple applications as the meat cooked. Each time the surface began to set, he'd brush on another layer, building up complex flavors and that signature glossy finish.
When the skin reached the perfect point - slightly charred and crackling - he used a sharp knife to make strategic scores across the surface. These cuts served multiple purposes: they allowed heat to penetrate deeper into the meat, ensured more even cooking, and created attractive patterns that would showcase the contrast between the dark exterior and tender interior.
After each round of scoring, another honey water application evened out the coloring and added additional layers of flavor.
For seasoning, Gustave kept things family-friendly. Instead of the fiery spice blends he might use for an adult crowd, he opted for aromatic cumin, sea salt, and five-spice powder - complex enough to be interesting but mild enough for young palates. Adults who wanted heat could always add their own chili sauce later.
The high-heat method paid off. In just over an hour, both lambs were perfectly cooked - a process that normally required twice as long. The finished products were magnificent: golden-bronze skin crackling with rendered fat, seasoning creating aromatic crusts, and the entire camp filled with mouthwatering aromas.
But the lamb was only the beginning.
While the meat rested, Gustave gathered several copper pots and filled them with glowing charcoal from the roasting fire. Into each pot went the milky white pork belly broth that Po had been simmering all afternoon - rich, creamy stock made from slowly cooking large pieces of pork belly with salt and spices until the collagen melted into liquid silk.
The cooked pork belly itself had been sliced paper-thin and arranged on platters - it could be eaten directly with dipping sauces (creating the famous Sichuan dish Li Zhuang white meat) or added to the hot pot for extra richness.
Into the bubbling broth went the morning's mushroom harvest - wild varieties that would infuse the soup with earthy, complex flavors impossible to replicate with store-bought ingredients.
The hot pot accompaniments were equally impressive: paper-thin beef and lamb slices, handmade beef balls with perfect texture, silky tofu skins, crisp lettuce, tender bok choy, bouncy konjac noodles, and dozens of other ingredients arranged on platters around each copper pot.
"Dinner is ready!" Gustave called out, clapping his hands to gather the scattered groups. "Come and feast!"
"Look at this spread!" Hiroshi marveled as everyone gathered around the multiple cooking stations. "It's like a restaurant banquet!"
"Oh, the things we brought this morning!" Misae suddenly remembered, hurrying toward their tent.
This reminder sparked a flurry of activity as all the Kasukabe families retrieved their contributions - perfectly shaped rice balls, elegant sushi arrangements, homemade pickled vegetables, and various braised dishes prepared with loving care early that morning.
"Anya wants to contribute too!" Shin-chan announced, dragging out the massive fish he'd accidentally caught with his "unconventional fishing method."
Gustave had completely forgotten about Shin-chan's piscine victim. But seeing the impressive specimen - easily large enough to feed several people - inspiration struck.
"Shin-chan, how about I prepare your fish as grilled fillets? We can set up a barbecue station alongside the hot pot!"
With the roasting fire still burning strong, it seemed wasteful not to utilize all that perfect cooking heat.
"Sounds great!" Shin-chan agreed enthusiastically. "As long as it tastes good, Anya doesn't care how you cook it!"
And with that, the true celebration began.
Multiple copper pots bubbled cheerfully around the central fire, their rich broths perfuming the evening air. The golden roasted lambs dominated the serving area, their crackling skin glistening in the firelight. Grilled fish fillets sizzled on improvised grates while an incredible array of side dishes covered every available surface.
Friends from multiple worlds gathered around the communal feast, dipping vegetables and meats into the aromatic hot pot, tearing off pieces of perfectly roasted lamb, and sampling each other's homemade specialties.
Under the darkening sky, with stars beginning to appear overhead and the fire casting dancing shadows on happy faces, the interdimensional picnic reached its perfect crescendo.
There was something magical about sharing food prepared with care, eaten in beautiful surroundings, surrounded by people you cared about. It didn't matter which world you came from - some experiences were truly universal.
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