i'm pure at heart, it repels the dirt

One of the things Isabelle liked best about the Institute – apart from the general fact that it was home – was the kitchen. It was enormous, and unlike the rest of the Institute, it was all modern, with steel counters and glassed-in shelves holding rows of crockery. While Jace was out with Clary visiting her home and attempting to find out more about whatever was going on with her, Isabelle was currently spending her afternoon right here, next to a red cast-iron stove, a round spoon in her hand. Steam was rising from the pot, and ingredients were strewn everywhere – tomatoes, chopped garlic and onions, strings of herbs, grated piles of cheese, some shelled peanuts, a handful of olives, and a whole fish, its eye staring glassily upward.

( She was having a lot of fun. And she didn't even care how much Hannibal would have disapproved. )

[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Taken (again, with lots and lots of editing) from City of Bones.]