Jeremy opened up the dry-ager, and he found the
“Hey, Dorale, that box you’re standing in front of is a dry-ager for meat,” Jeremy said, pointing toward the impressive machine. “There should be a bunch of meat in there, including a whole duck, a whole chicken, a whole hog, and four Cornish game hens.”
Just then, Quark came in. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” Jeremy replied.
“You found the piece of Wagyu beef you were looking for?” Quark asked, glancing at Ducat.
“Good,” Jeremy confirmed. “Quark, this beef would be the equivalent of 16 bars of gold-pressed Latinum.”
“What? No way! Why is Wagyu so expensive?” Quark asked, his eyes widening with disbelief.
“It’s the most tender, marbled, and expensive beef on Earth,” Ducat answered.
“You’re kidding! And what’s that white gold-colored stuff in the pot?” Quark inquired, tilting his head curiously.
“That, my friend, is Wagyu beef tallow,” Jeremy explained.
“Tallow? That’s… that’s rendered fat?” Quark asked a mix of surprise and skepticism on his face.
“Yes, it is,” Jeremy confirmed with a grin.
“Also known as the butter of the freakin’ gods!” Ducat added enthusiastically.
“The rendered fat or tallow from this beef is called the butter of the gods, but there’s no dairy?” Quark asked, scratching his head in confusion.
“No, but the fat is so creamy; that’s why it has that name,” Jeremy explained, pouring some of the fat into a bowl.
Brother, brother! Get in here!” Quark shouted, his excitement palpable.
Romrushed in, curiosity written all over his face. “Brother? What are they cooking?”
“Well, I don’t know yet, but take a taste of this,” Quark said, scooping a spoonful of the Wagyu beef tallow. “This is beef fat from Wagyu beef, a fat from a Japanese beef cow. They call this beef the butter of the gods.”
“But butter is made with milk and cream, not fat,” Rom pointed out, puzzled.
“Yeah, yeah, but the fat is so creamy,” Quark explained. “Once rendered, it looks like melted butter. See?” He held out the spoon for Romto to try.
They each took a spoonful, and both of their eyes went wide.
“That…” Quark said, his voice full of awe.
“Is damn good!” Finished, his smile matching Quark’s.
Both of them beamed with satisfaction, little bits of fat glistening on their lips as they savored the rich flavor.
Jeremy opened up the dry-ager, and he found the
“Hey, Dorale, that box you’re standing in front of is a dry-ager for meat,” Jeremy said, pointing toward the impressive machine. “There should be a bunch of meat in there, including a whole duck, a whole chicken, a whole hog, and four Cornish game hens.”
Just then, Quark came in. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” Jeremy replied.
“You found the piece of Wagyu beef you were looking for?” Quark asked, glancing at Ducat.
“Good,” Jeremy confirmed. “Quark, this beef would be the equivalent of 16 bars of gold-pressed Latinum.”
“What? No way! Why is Wagyu so expensive?” Quark asked, his eyes widening with disbelief.
“It’s the most tender, the most marbled, and the most expensive beef on Earth,” Ducat answered.
“You’re kidding! And what’s that white gold-colored stuff in the pot?” Quark inquired, tilting his head curiously.
“That, my friend, is Wagyu beef tallow,” Jeremy explained.
“Tallow? That’s… that’s rendered fat?” Quark asked a mix of surprise and skepticism on his face.
“Yes, it is,” Jeremy confirmed with a grin.
“Also known as the butter of the freakin’ gods!” Ducat added enthusiastically.
“The rendered fat or tallow from this beef is called the butter of the gods, but there’s no dairy?” Quark asked, scratching his head in confusion.
“No, but the fat is so creamy; that’s why it has that name,” Jeremy explained, pouring a bit of the fat into a bowl.
Brother, brother! Get in here!” Quark shouted, his excitement palpable.
Romrushed in, curiosity written all over his face. “Brother? What are they cooking?”
“Well, I don’t know yet, but take a taste of this,” Quark said, scooping a spoonful of the Wagyu beef tallow. “This is beef fat from Wagyu beef, a fat from a Japanese beef cow. They call this beef the butter of the gods.”
“But butter is made with milk and cream, not fat,” Rom pointed out, puzzled.
“Yeah, yeah, but the fat is so creamy,” Quark explained. “Once rendered, it looks like melted butter. See?” He held out the spoon for Rom to try.
They each took a spoonful, and both of their eyes went wide.
“That…” Quark said, his voice full of awe.
“Is damn good!” Finished, his smile matching Quark’s.
Both of them beamed with satisfaction, little bits of fat glistening on their lips as they savored the rich flavor.
“Brother, all we have for sale are some stale, and that’s it! We need some more alcohol!” Quark exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice.
“Yeah, I know,” Rom replied, his brow furrowed.
“Well, why don’t we help out?” Rom suggested. “We could learn more about human food.”
“You’re right! This could be a day off,” Quark said, a glimmer of hope returning. “I mean, it’s a loss for the bar, but wait a minute… Do you mean we’re freaking out of liquor? All we have is stale and what we can make from the replicators. Damn, I’m ruined!”
“Maybe not,” Jeremy chimed in. “If you leave here to help us, I can get you some old stuff. I mean, not just this modern interplanetary stuff. I’m talking about things from my time—Johnny Walker, both red and black, Jack Daniels, some bourbon, some Scotch, some absinthe, and a European beverage called the Green Fairy, known for causing hallucinations. I also found a crate at a warehouse sale full of old alcoholic beverages that you can have, Quark.”
“No way! You’ll let me have them if I let Rom help you guys?” Quark asked, astonished.
“Deal! I am screwed otherwise,” Quark said, relieved.
“Come with me,” Jeremy instructed. “I had meant to give it to you when we got on board, but I forgot. There’s even a mixology book where you can make different cocktails and mocktails.”
“Let me guess—mocktails are non-alcoholic cocktails?” Quark replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Yep. I was wrong—there are five crates. Everything from European, and American, to Chinese, Japanese, and more. There’s even a watermelon-flavored liqueur in there called Midori, which is Japanese for ‘green,’ and a coffee-flavored liqueur called Amaretto. And if you have the replicator make an iced coffee, and you add Bailey’s Irish Cream, it turns coffee into a liqueur,” Jeremy explained.
“No way? I always wondered why you don’t drink alcohol, Jeremy, you know so much about it,” Quark said, intrigued.
“I can’t; my medication won’t allow it,” Jeremy replied.
“Dude, that sucks! So that’s why you stick with your usual cranberry ginger ale or Vernors with a piece of candied ginger floating on top,” Quark remarked.
“Yep,” Jeremy confirmed, opening up all the crates.
“Oh my! I have hit the motherlode! This will keep me in booze for months! Some of the bloodline shipments and Cardassian wine shipments have dried up,” Quark exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement.
“Well, now you can show folks what real booze is like,” Jeremy said with a grin.
“Damn right!” Quark replied, his spirits lifted.
Jeremy... thank you... thank you... you have no idea what this means to me,” Quark said, his voice full of gratitude.
“Mmm, maybe, but I can tell you’re happy,” Jeremy replied, smiling. “There are even non-alcoholic beverages for children, like kiddie cocktails—non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiris, non-alcoholic piña coladas, and I could show you some of my mocktail creations.”
“Really? Ooh!” Quark exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.
Jeremy helped him put the booze in the back.
“Brother, we are saved!” Quark declared, grinning widely.
“Uh, Jeremy, the guys need you in the kitchen. They want to know what to start working on first,” Rom said, glancing at the bustling crew.
“Well, let’s all go, and you can help me until opening time,” Jeremy said, leading the way. He texted Rose to see if she would like to help, and she replied, “Sure, be right there!”
When she arrived, they all got down to business. Jeremy smiled and said, “Alright, y’all, we’ve been piddlefarting around too long. We are behind schedule.”
“Piddlefarting?” Quark asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, Quark, piddlefarting,” Jeremy confirmed, chuckling. “Okay, Rose, here are the potatoes. Just cut the bumps off and keep the skins on; we are making mashed potatoes.”
“Got it!” Rose replied, rolling up her sleeves.
“Ducat, I need you to shred the beef into strips and get out the crockpot from the door by your thigh,” Jeremy instructed.
“On it!” Ducat replied eagerly.
“Dorale, you take some of those meats and cut off the pellicle—the bark stuff—and start grilling them,” Jeremy continued, directing the team.
“What sauce?” Ducat asked, curious about the next step.
“Why, a mix of garlic, Tabasco, and powdered Italian dressing, of course,” Jeremy said with a silly smirk.
“Psst. Hey Dorale, put some of this beef on your grill and let me have it. I’ll make sure everyone gets to try some,” Ducat whispered, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Doral took a piece of meat, grilled it, and cut it into sections. “I know how good wagyu beef is,” Jeremy said, watching eagerly as the aroma filled the air. “You all enjoy!”
Ducat handed a bite-sized morsel to Rose. “Oh damn! Hey, now that’s pretty good!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Yeah, Rom!” Quark chimed in. “Oh man, that is such a satisfyingly tender cut.”
“Hey guys, I’m going to tell Zack and the others to take the ponies to the replicate,” Jeremy announced. “I’ll whip up a little lunch for us from some of the meat and veggie.
“Hey Dorale, can I have one of the chickens you’ve taken the pellicle off?” Jeremy asked, glancing over at his friend.
Doral tossed him a chicken. “And hand me one of those Cornish game hens too, please?” he added, and Dorale complied, handing him the game hen.
Jeremy expertly broke both the regular chicken and the Cornish game hen into individual pieces: legs, wings, thighs, and breasts. “Ducat, what pray tell are you fixing over there, Jeremy?” Ducat inquired, watching with interest.
Jeremy smiled. “Bob Evans-style honey butter chicken—a fried chicken with a honey butter glaze.” Ducat’s mouth began to salivate. “Whoa!”
“Rose, I know you don’t care for okra—or you say you don’t—but I gave you some two years ago, and you loved it because it wasn’t slimy.”
“Wait, I did?” Rose replied, her brow furrowing in thought.
“Yes. Prince had given me that extra bag full of okra.”
“Oh yeah!” Rose recalled a hint of excitement in her voice.
“Quark, what the hell is okra?” Quark asked, looking confused.
“It’s a Southern dish,” Jeremy explained.
“What’s in it?” Quark pressed.
“Okra is a vegetable.” Jeremy handed Ducat the mixture of garlic, Tabasco, and Italian dressing, with just enough water mixed in to keep the flavor strong without burning the beef.
Jeremy glanced over to see Rose finishing up the mashed potatoes and noticed Quark had completed his task as well. “I’m going to teach you how to make savory corn pudding, Quark.”
“Savory corn pudding? Sounds interesting!” Quark replied, intrigued.
“First, cook some corn in a pot. Then, make cornbread batter according to the instructions, and mix the corn into the batter. Don’t let the batter set completely until it’s firm while cooking.”
Jeremy interjected, “You can take these. These are short ribs; the pellicle is off them. You’ll put these ribs in the oven at 350°F for 45 minutes, and then take a fork and tear the meat off, spreading it to make pulled pork.”
“Oh, I have never had that!” Rom exclaimed.
“Then you can grab a crockpot and mix water and barbecue sauce with a quarter cup of grape jam to make pulled pork barbecue.”
Jeremy tossed him the bottle of Sweet Baby Ray’s barbecue sauce, watching as Rom’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm.
Jeremy added flour and eggs into a bowl and then rolled the pieces of chicken until they were completely covered. “Whoa, man, those are going to be good. I can just tell—it’s going to be amazing,” Ducat said, watching with enthusiasm.
“Oh yeah,” Jeremy replied with a grin.
“Okay, now what?” Rose asked, looking at Jeremy expectantly.
“I saw Jeremy's meal list. If I remember right, he wants them made into potato pancakes,” Ducat interjected.
“Yep,” Jeremy confirmed. “Or as Jewish people call them, latkes. Ducat, ask Alexa over there to give you the recipe for Izzy's potato cakes.”
“Got it,” Ducat replied, turning to the device. He read off the ingredients:
Ingredients:
- 2 eggs
- 3 cups grated potatoes
- 1/3 cup grated onion
- 3 tablespoons flour
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1/2 teaspoon parsley
- 1/2 teaspoon pepper
- Cooking oil
Directions:
- Beat eggs until light and foamy.
- Stir in potatoes, onion, flour, and seasonings until thoroughly blended.
- Heat 1/4 inch of oil in a large, heavy skillet.
- For each pancake, drop 1/4 cup of potato mixture into the oil.
- Fry on each side until golden brown.
- Drain on paper towels and serve hot with butter.
Number of Servings: 12 pancakes
Personal Notes: Izzy's was a restaurant located downtown in Cincinnati, close to Shillito's. They were known for their corned beef sandwiches and potato pancakes. Potato pancakes are a typical German dish and were something my mother fixed often.
“Wow, Rose has enough here for 48,” Ducat smiled.
“Jeremy, I don't think we have enough eggs; there are only 3 left in this egg container?” Quark noted, looking concerned.
“Yeah, we do. In the deep freeze right by the door, there are eggs by the gross. Bring one gross in,” Jeremy instructed.
“A gross of eggs? How many is that?” Ducat asked, puzzled.
“A gross is a dozen squared, so 144,” Jeremy explained.
“Shit, that's a lot of eggs,” Rose replied, eyes wide.
Quark put the eggs in the bottom of the smaller fridge while Jeremy grabbed the frozen fried okra and heated it up in the microwave. “Hold on to your taste buds; I am preparing a four-course meal for everyone!”
“I will make sure you get smaller portions, honey,” Jeremy said with a smile to Rose.
Jeremy put the fried okra in a bowl and set it on the table. Meanwhile, he finished covering the chicken and started cooking it. He took about four ladles full of wagyu fat and mixed it with honey, stirring it together. Jeremy then made cookies—oatmeal jelly thumbprint cookies with raspberry jelly. For the appetizers, he prepared a salad and a plate of pizza rolls.
“Come on y'all, dinner is served!” Jeremy announced, a wide grin on his face.
“I am starving!” Ducat replied, practically bouncing in his seat.
“I know, right?” Dorale chimed in, eyeing the spread.
“Brother, stop fidgeting around with that spatula and get over here! I’m hungry!” Quark shouted, clearly impatient.
“Geez, Quark! Give me a freaking minute! I’m finishing up the test on the pudding to make sure it’s not too done. And we are good!” Rom shot back, focused on his task.
“Alright, everyone hold hands,” Jeremy said, his tone turning solemn. “I’m gonna teach you a tradition from my family: praying before a meal.” He closed his eyes and began to pray. “Heavenly Father, we thank you for this time of fellowship, camaraderie, and fun, and for doing something important. We thank you for helping everything go smoothly. In Jesus' name, Amen.” Everyone echoed, “Amen,” and then dove into the feast.
As they began to dig into the food, Jeremy watched their expressions transform with each bite. “How is everything?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“This chicken is incredible!” Ducat exclaimed, licking his fingers. “The honey butter glaze is out of this world!”
Dorale, with his mouth half-full, chimed in, “I never thought I’d enjoy okra, but this fried version is fantastic! It’s so crispy!” He looked at Jeremy with newfound appreciation, clearly impressed by the meal.
“What do you think of the fried chicken?” Jeremy asked Rose, who was savoring a generous portion. “Are you enjoying it?”
“Oh, it’s amazing! The glaze makes it so flavorful!” Rose replied, chuckling. “I can’t believe I ever said I didn’t like okra!” She took another bite, savoring the crispy texture.
Quark, unable to contain his excitement, stood up slightly to reach for more fried okra. “I’m telling you, Jeremy, you’ve outdone yourself this time. I need this recipe! The way these flavors come together is magic.” He quickly piled his plate high, making sure he had a bit of everything.
Jeremy smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. “I’m just glad you all are enjoying it. Cooking for friends is one of my favorite things.” He leaned back in his chair, watching as everyone engaged in laughter and lively conversation, their spirits lifted by the meal he had prepared.
As the dinner continued, the sound of clinking silverware and cheerful chatter filled the room. Jeremy felt a sense of belonging wash over him; these were his people, gathered around the table, sharing not just food but memories and laughter. “Here’s to many more meals like this!” he raised his glass, prompting everyone to follow suit.
“Ducatt, I hate to eat and run,” Ducatt said, glancing at the clock. “I just remembered one of my family members is having an operation, and I need to be there for moral support.”
“Go,” Jeremy replied, his tone encouraging. “Go be that person’s hero. You’ve definitely helped out... a lot.” He smiled and added, “I’ve updated all the recipes we made today in your datapad.”
“You did? When?” Ducatt asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Right before we ate,” Jeremy said with a smirk.
“Wow, you do work fast!” Ducatt exclaimed as Jeremy took a small foam box and filled it with food. “Hey, take a to-go box and have a safe trip,” he said sincerely.
“Yeah, Ducatt, you be careful out there,” Rose added, her expression warm.
For the first time, Ducatt didn’t feel the need to be sarcastic or boastful. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I know I’m not well liked by a lot of people, and I should let my proverbial shields down.”
“Indeed you should; you’ll find your life is more fun that way,” Jeremy advised. “But it’s knowing when to put your shields up that’s important. When someone’s an annoyance or toxic, that’s when you should have your guard up.”
Ducatt laughed, “You’re right.” He took the box full of food, munching on okra and pizza rolls as he and Dorale walked out.
“Well, one-third of our workforce is gone. What are we gonna do now?” Quark grumbled, looking around the room.
“I think it’s time some of the ponies help out, don’t you, Rose?” Jeremy suggested.
“Yeah,” Rose agreed.
Jeremy called Pinkie Pie and Applejack’s quarters, asking them to come to Quark's and look for a sign reading Holosuite 4. He also asked if they would love to help out since Ducatt and Dorale were gone.
“Sure as shootin’!” Applejack replied enthusiastically.
“I’d be glad to!” Pinkie Pie added, her voice bubbling with excitement.
“Great! See you when you get here!” Jeremy said before hanging up.
They arrived moments later, and Jeremy greeted them. “Man, this bar is fancy, don’t you agree, Pinkie?”
“Yeh, and without the lights on, it’s a little scary!” Pinkie replied, looking around.
Applejack was inspecting the Dabo wheel when she accidentally brushed against it, causing it to spin. Then Pinkie Pie couldn’t resist and gave the wheel a good, rip-roaring spin.
“Hey, who’s spinning my Dabo wheel?” Quark called out, his tone incredulous.
“Hey, who’s spinning my Dabo wheel?” Quark called out, his tone incredulous. “It costs money to spin that wheel! It’s a casino game; it’s called Dabo!”
“Sorry?” Pinkie Pie blushed, her eyes wide. “I couldn’t help it!”
In mock anger, Jeremy gave Quark a playful noggie. “Hey, genius, you’re supposed to be watching the Morangue so it doesn’t burn, dingus!”
Quark, sorry, I forgot.
Jeremy joking, "You no sorry, you gonna be sorry!"
Quark laughed. “Woo?”
Pinkie Pie said, “Some meat dish, another meat dish, corn pudding, potato cakes.”
Jeremy, “Humans and other species eat a lot of meat. What’s that? Is that butter?”
Jeremy, “No, that is wagyu beef tallow.” He showed Applejack and Pinkie Pie how the fat on the wagyu steak is white, rich, and creamy.
Applejack, “I’ll be! That is a more solid version of what’s in that pan?”
Jeremy, “Yes, it is. This is wagyu beef fat. That steak you are looking at came out of the Dry Ager this morning.”
Pinkie Pie, “What’s a dry ager?”
Jeremy, “It takes meat and sucks the water out of it, giving it this black stuff called a pellicle. This is inedible, but the steak itself is.”
Jeremy, “Never mind, I am wrong. I just looked it up, and some people like the taste of the pellicle over the meat itself, which is interesting.” He grabbed a piece of shaved pellicle from some of the meat Dorale cut up this morning. Jeremy, “Oh my goodness. That is good! It does have a smoky, savory flavor.”
Jeremy, “Pinkie, you know what you’re doing when it comes to cakes, but we're also making pies and other desserts.”
Pinkie, “Ooh, did you guys have lunch in here?”
Jeremy, “Yes, we had honey butter chicken, salad, okra, pizza rolls, and cookies for dessert.”
Applejack looked at the pizza roll. Jeremy, “Don't worry, it’s cheese.” He said, knowing she was hesitant. She bit into it, the sauce dripping out of her mouth. She chewed it, unsure what to think. “Wow, that’s not bad.”
Pinkie, “Here, let me try... Ooh, you’re right, it’s rather goo
Jeremy, “Starting next month, frozen foods like these fried okra vegetables and these Totino's pizza rolls will be on sale at your local grocery store. If you guys like that, then you might like this.”
Applejack’s stomach started grumbling. Applejack, “I didn’t eat a lot of lunch from the replimat. It wasn't that good.”
Jeremy, “What did you have?”
Applejack, “Some kind of soup... matzo-balls.”
Jeremy, “Matzo ball soup? Yeah, I didn’t care for that either. Too freakin' salty for my taste.” He added both of them a Hot Pocket. “These are Hot Pockets—cheese pizza.”
Jeremy, “In the replicator, we have every kind of snack food imaginable, such as Hot Pockets, pizza rolls, taquitos, egg rolls, which is not what you might think it is based on the name. We even have microwavable burgers like a White Castle slider, which is a mini hamburger. There's even fun fruit drinks like my personal favorite—cherry limeade.”28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvyozeSVwYD
28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡevaO9ywEPc
eremy, “You guys have access to a whole doggone culinary library, from steamed azna to gock. (No, trust me, don’t eat gock unless you want to hurl.) Vulcan food isn’t big on flavor; some of them just eat supplement meals. The people from Betazed are called Betazoids.”
Pinkie Pie, “That’s no fun!”
Jeremy, “Well, they’re all about logic. Fun isn’t really in their vocabulary. If you try to show them, they’ll say fun is illogical.”
Pinkie Pie, “Party poopers.”
Jeremy, “I know, right? Then there are the Ferengi, the Bajorans, and the Trill. Watch out for the Breen, though. And then there’s the party animal of the station—you wouldn’t know it as quiet as he is, but Morn… well, Morn is just Morn. The Klingons, their parties are crazy, but not in the way you might think. They drink something called Klingon blood wine. They’re the ones who like gock.”
Jeremy, "And then there are the Betazoids, the people of the planet Betazed. You may have met one of their ambassadors, Lwaxana Troi—she’s a cool woman. And her daughter, Deanna, is the one you guys met from the Enterprise. Then there are the Romulans, who split off from the Vulcans."
Pinkie Pie, "OK, OK, stop! I can’t remember all these names."
Jeremy, "Sorry if I gave you info overload."
They finished up just in time, and Jeremy, along with everyone else, helped clean up the kitchen.
Jeremy, "Computer, open Holosuite program Paramount Pizza Palace."
Jeremy walked into Holosuite 3, closing the doors behind him. The pipe organ was already playing a song and was taking requests.
Jeremy requested "Don't Stop Believin'" followed by "Baby, I Love Your Way" by Peter Frampton.
28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU0CfZ8cWkV
