sharp_as_knives | Hannibal's house (where Jono probably despairs of the flower arrangements), Wednesday evening

After Kanan had left the community center cooking class, he decided now was as good a time as any to stop by Hannibal's place. There was a standing invitation, after all, and while he was finally getting money from the school for things like living, going to one of the bars in town for some socialization was still a little bit on the 'fiscally irresponsible' side.

Not that that would stop him if Doctor Lecter was busy tonight, mind. But he did remember reading something about caf on the radio on Monday, and he had to make sure that was a weird... hazy... weekend thing, and not an 'in actuality, right now' thing.

Hence the knocking. And the side-eyeing the pink birds on the lawn.

They were glittery! So glittery. And side-eyeing him right back.

Hannibal set his book aside and went to answer the door, smiling when he saw who it was. "Mr. Jarrus. Please, come in. Have you decided to take me up on my offer of dinner?"

"Well, I won't turn down dinner if I'm not imposing," Kanan replied, because... it was true, okay? Kanan still really couldn't afford to say no to food if it was offered, yet. "But if I'm being completely honest, I came here to ask about caf." A beat. "Coffee."

At least he had the decency to look sheepish about it.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not at all," Hannibal assured him. "I haven't yet started dinner, but that means you can help me decide what to make. What questions did you have about coffee? Or caf? Are they the same thing?"

He vaguely recalled something from the picnic about them both, but he wasn't entirely certain ~~because neither is canon~~.

Caf was a tricky topic that way, apparently.

"They're very similar," Kanan noted, pursing his lips a little in thought. "Not much beats a good cup of Spiran caf when you want to wind down and wake up at the same time. But the coffee around here..." He made little so-so gestures with one hand. "It isn't bad. But it definitely isn't the same."

Kanan Jarrus, caf addict.

"There are many different types of coffee," Hannibal pointed out. He led Kanan into the kitchen. "Let me get down different beans," he said as he started to, "and you can smell the differences."

See, Kanan had no idea how many different kinds of coffee there were. They were all from the same planet.

"I appreciate it," he replied, smiling wryly. "Apparently on the weekend, you had it figured out. But I don't remember much about that. I'm still not completely certain what was going on, there."

Because some planets did actually have more than one climate.

Hannibal nodded. "I remember having it, but unfortunately not how it got there." He smiled and set down bags of Peruvian, Arabian Mocha Sanani, Madagascar robusta, and some small-batch Yirgacheffe.

"These are beans from several different growing areas and different sorts of trees; which of them comes closest to your caf?"

Kanan whistled a little at the selection, genuinely impressed. There were multiple kinds of caf in the galaxy he came from, of course, but again... One planet. And he had yet to actually see Earth.

So.

"Alright, here goes nothing, I guess."

Did he feel a little silly, leaning in to sniff at some bags of beans? Sure. But they did smell good, and by the time he'd run through the selection, he went back to smell again.

"Actually, this is closer than the rest of them," he noted, pointing out the robusta. "At least, to the caf I prefer."

Again, big galaxy.

Hannibal chuckled. "A caffeine addict, I see. That sort has more than the others."

He put the rest of the bags away. "Do you know much about how your caf is made?" He waved at his coffee machine. "Does it drip from a filter, or is it pressed through with steam?"

Hey, sometimes a man needed his caffeine. Kanan grinned and shrugged his shoulders, as if saying, 'hey, what can you do?'

"It can be done either way," he replied. "I've heard people talk about brewing it cold, too, but I've never really given that one a try. What I'm looking for is the drip kind, though."

It was straightforward. Kanan liked his caf straightforward.

Hannibal nodded. "Cold brew is good if you're looking for cold coffee. The sort made with steam here will be called 'espresso', if you're looking to try that. For now -"

He didn't actually have a simple drip-brewer, but he started boiling water for his vacuum machine. "Let's see how close we can get, and then you can tell me what the differences are. There are many other varieties to try."

Hooboy. Kanan was going to be vibrating before this mad hunt for caf was through.

"I appreciate it." He gave a little nod of his head. "I mean, this is going above and beyond the call. I'd only intended to ask if you were familiar with it."

Hannibal grinned. "I consider all foods I am unfamiliar with to be a challenge." If he couldn't figure it out with Earth beans, he would simply have to ask Sparkle to bring him some from Atton's world.

"Speaking of which, while that brews, what shall I make for dinner?"

"Uhh... something... Earth," Kanan replied, a little bit helplessly, before he broke into a laugh. "Sorry, I'm still getting familiarized with a lot of things that this place has to offer. I understand broad strokes, like sandwiches, soups, cakes... But specifics are still going to take me some time to figure out, I think."

There had been an incident with strawberries and mustard. It hadn't been pretty.

If Jono knew, he would be so sad for the strawberries!

"All you can do is take your time and try whatever comes your way," Hannibal said. "What sort of meats do you enjoy?" He got out a tablet to show pictures of the animals involved. "I currently have cow, pig, lamb, rabbit, several fish, chicken, and quail to begin with." Or human; did Kanan want to try that?

Kanan would probably pass on the human. He'd had a salad at Milliways instead of eating the talking cow, after all.

"Good question," he mused, looking through the pictures that Hannibal was showing him. "I've had salmon... a couple of times, actually. And hamburgers and steaks come from the cow, right? The rabbit looks similar to a creature with the same name on Sullust, but I've never actually eaten it before. Maybe something different from the salmon or the cow, though. I'm trying to expand my horizons, here."

But sentients tasted so good!

Still, Hannibal approved of expanding food horizons.

He got out his recipe box and thumbed through it. "What are your feelings on spicier foods?"

Meat was meat. Sentients couldn't possibly taste much different from creatures that lacked a certain level of basic self-awareness, Hannibal.

"I have nothing against a bit of spiciness," Kanan replied with a shrug. "I've had a little bit of almost anything, back where I'm from. Just so long as it won't kill a human, if it's considered food, I've probably eaten it."

Beggars couldn't be choosers. Except in the case of that previous 'sentients' argument.

Which Hannibal was smirking about, just a little. And Sentients tasted wonderful because they were seasoned with superiority and schadenfreude.

He nodded and pulled out a recipe for spicy honey and garlic quail. Then he paused to pull Kanan a cup of coffee. "What do you think of this?"

Kanan accepted the coffee, pausing to just breathe it in before taking a sip.

He closed his eyes.

He needed this moment, just him and the coffee, to just hang in there a little longer so that he could commit it to memory for always and never let it go.

"Still not quite caf," he reported, "but closer. I could probably crawl into this mug and drown in it, and I'd die happy."

Hannibal chuckled. "Please try not to; I hate to think of the mess and the paperwork. I'll try to get more types of beans in, for comparison."

He glanced at the recipe once more. "I'll be one moment; that meat is in the freezer downstairs. Please make yourself at home. Mind Beethoven; he's rather put out at the moment."

Not because Hannibal had brushed him, but because he'd stopped.

"Oh, I don't mind Beethoven at all," Kanan chuckled, and almost immediately started looking around for the old cat. Look, they'd made friends the last time he'd been over. Even if he had been pretty damn hung over.

Just watch, Hannibal. The old cat would be in Kanan's lap by the time you got back.

In which case, Kanan could be the one petting him until his arm fell off; that suited Hannibal fine.

Hannibal just smiled as he went downstairs to get the quail.

And Kanan was quite content to work through his coffee, keeping an eye out for the cats, should they wander into the room. Beethoven was cranky at Hannibal, perhaps, but he had no such compunctions about Kanan.

So, yeah. Cat in lap. Kanan's arms were perfectly suited to sustained bouts of petting.

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