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‘ “I just can’t believe she’s being like this,” Clary said for the fourth time, chasing a stray bit of guacamole around her place with the tip of a nacho. They were at a neighbourhood Mexican joint, a hole in the wall called Nacho Mama. ‘

~

Coffee

Tabasco sauce

Tea- earl grey, bergamot

Cucumber Sandwiches

~

‘Sometimes Luke would bring them bags of sweet rolls from the Golden Carriage Bakery in Chinatown. At the thought of Luke, Clary’s stomach tightened, her appetite vanishing.’

~

‘Next to a red cast-iron stove stood Isabelle, a round spoon in her hand, her dark hair pinned on top of her head. Steam was rising from the pot, and ingredients were strewn everywhere –tomatoes, chopped garlic and onions, strings of dark-looking herbs, grated piles of cheese, some shelled peanuts, a handful of olives, and a whole fish, its eye staring glassily upward.

“I’m making soup,”Isabelle said, waving a spoon at Jace. ‘

~

‘The inside of the fridge was filled with milk cartons whose expiration dates reached back several weeks, and plastic Tupperware containers labels with masking tape lettered in red ink: HODGE’S. DO NOT EAT.

“Wow, he’s like a crazy roommate,” Clary observed, momentarily diverted.

“What, Hodge? He just likes things in order.” Jace took one of the containers out of the fridge and opened it. “Hmmm. Spaghetti.” ‘

~

‘ “Dinnertime!” It was Isabelle, standing framed in the door of the library. She still had the spoon in her hand, though her hair had escaped from its bun and was straggling down her neck.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” she added, as an afterthought.

“Dear God,” said Jace, “the dread hour is nigh.”

Hodge looked alarmed. “I-I-I had a very filling breakfast,” he stammerd. “I mean lunch. A filling lunch. I couldn’t possibly eat—“

“I threw out the soup,”Isabelle said. “And ordered Chinese from that place downtown.”
Jace unhitched himself from the desk and stretched.  “Great. I’m starved.”

“I might be able to eat a bite,”admitted Hodge meekly.

“You two are terrible liars,” said Isabelle darkly. “Look, I know you don’t like my cooking—“

“So stop doing it,” Jace advised her reasonably. “Did you order mu shu pork? You know I love mu shu pork.”

Isabelle cast her eyes skywards. “Yes. It’s in the kitchen.” ‘

~

Noodles

Champagne

Spaghetti fra diavolo

faerie food  & faerie plum

~

Locusts and honey were featured as a special, as were plates of raw meat, whole raw fish, and something called a toasted bat sandwich. A page of the beverage section was devoted to the different types of blood they had on tap—to Clary’s relief, there were different kinds of animal blood, rather than type A, type O, or type B-negative.

“Who eats whole raw fish?” she enquired aloud. ‘

~

‘ “There’s this apricot-plum smoothie with wildflower honey that’s simply divine,” said Isabelle, who had appeared with Simon at her side. ‘

~

coconut pancakes

~

‘ Clary regarded her pancakes consideringly. They looked fantastic: gold brown, drenched in honey. She took a bite as Kaelie wobbled off on her high heels. ‘

~

Fries

Juniper and leaves

~

‘ A lilac-skinned woman in a metallic bustier was ranging drinks along the bar in tall, harshly colored glasses that tinted the fluid inside them: blood red, cyanosis blue, poison green. 

“They’re probably drunk and passed out somewhere,” Magnus said, waving long white fingers in a bored manner. “You know how you lot tend to turn into bats and piles of dust when you’ve downed a few too many Bloody Marys.”

“They mix their vodka with real blood,” Jace said in Clary’s ear. ‘

~

He took a napkin-wrapped package out of the bag and offered it to her. “Also,” he added, “I make a mean cheese sandwich. Try one.”

Clary smiled reluctantly and sat down across from him. The stone floor of the greenhouse was cold against her bare legs, but it was pleasant after so many days of relentless heat. Out of the paper bag Jace drew some apples, a bar of fruit and nut chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Not a bad haul,” she said admiringly.

~

‘She sat on the window seat in the library, Hodge in his chair with Hugo on the armrest. The remains of breakfast- sticky jam, toast crumbs, and smears of butter- clung to a stack of plates on the low table that no one had seemed inclined to clear away.’

~

Dorito wrappers

pop tart crumbs

Steamed bao buns

Peanut butter

Milk

Cereal

Bread from Fortunato Brothers
[plinker]

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