#klingon chef kaga

[jaegermonstrous]

So I've got Thoughts on Worf. Disclaimer, these are all heavily informed by own experiences and background, ymmv. Also disclaimer, I haven't gotten around to watching PIC yet. It's on my list, but I'm not there yet. But anyway.

So, Worf in TNG is pretty much our biggest exposure to the Klingon culture so far, and he's pretty consistent with the other Klingons we see. He's a big and tough warrior guy with the Stoic Warrior Thing going on. He's constantly getting his ass handed to him to show the audience the bad guys of the week are Serious Business. He's a pretty awful father, but we have no reason to believe other Klingons are much better. He's apparently got enough of a soft/personable side that he dates Deanna Troi for a bit [no shade to the actors here, but the logic behind that pairing has never worked for me, or at least the writers never did enough legwork to make it believable to my ace and autistic self]. But mostly, he's a Big Stoic Warrior Man from a culture of Big Stoic Warrior Men.

But Worf in DS9 is much less isolated from other Klingons, and it's here where - to me - he becomes incredibly interesting as an example of someone trying to reconnect with their heritage as an adult, especially someone who's either felt pressured to perform their culture "correctly" to an outsider [Federation] standard, or who's never had significant contact with the huge diversity of their culture and kind of internalized the idea that "this is how you perform my culture correctly" from a very limited amount of sources, and therefore become kind of an asshole about it when people [other Klingons] don't do or be as you expect them to.

From the doylist perspective we can just say "well, the DS9 writers really diversified the Klingons," but I find the watsonian perspective far more interesting; here you have Worf, the first and [so far] only Klingon serving in Starfleet, who was removed from his culture as a young child and raised by Humans [no shade to the Rozhenkos here, I think they did their best to raise Worf with an awareness of his origins]. He's been aware most of his life of being the only Klingon in a room full of Humans and other Federation species, most of whom have Expectations of what Meeting A Real Klingon would be like. So Worf, with his mostly second-hand knowledge of Klingon culture and a huge wall of Expectations surrounding him at every turn, becomes what he thinks of as The Ideal Klingon. He's stoic, he's gruff, he barely ever cracks a smile, and when you put him in the room with a bunch of diverse DS9 Klingons, he comes across as a caricature.

Let's look at some of the DS9 Klingons, and I think you'll see what I mean.

First up - Kaga, the Klingon chef. I personally love Kaga, and I wish we had gotten to see more of him. He's our first real indicator that Klingons in DS9 are Built Different. He's cheerful, he doesn't dress in a warrior's armor, he plays that Klingon accordion thing and sings to his patrons. He's a glimpse of what Klingons outside the military are probably like. I love that the DS9 writers did this, showcasing that Klingons [like so many of the non-Humans we get in DS9] are just people.

Next, we have Kor, the Dahar Master. Again, I adore Kor. In some ways he's a throwback to TOS Klingons, who were conniving, and mocking, and just generally Untrustworthy and would 100% stab you in the back if they thought it would get them what they wanted. But he's also a fantastic example of a DS9 Klingon. Kor is old, and tired, and kind of a drunk, and beginning to lose touch with his abilities and reality. But he's also clever, and cunning, and you can really see the intelligence and the ferocity that made him so formidable to Kirk and the TOS crew back in the day. And he's also charming and kind of a sweetheart, and he genuinely loves Dax like family. He's well-rounded in a way we don't get to see Worf be for a while. And even when we contrast Kor with Kang and Koloth, two other Klingons from the same era who align more with the TNG Stoic Warrior Man stereotype, you can see where their characters are much fuller. They have a history and a familiarity with each other and with Dax that really shines through. I mean, they swore blood oaths with a Trill. Yeah, Dax had to work really hard to be accepted by the Klingons, but once Curzon crossed that line, Kang, Koloth, and Kor were ride or die for Dax.

Third - General Martok. Martok is IMO the best foil to Worf, and sort of an example of who Worf might be someday [again, I haven't seen Worf in PIC yet]. And I really love Martok as someone who's very like Worf in a lot of ways, but also highlights how Worf has really made himself into a caricature of what Being A Klingon is all about. Yeah, Martok is big and tough and stoic, but you also see in the prison camp and later how that's not all of what Martok is. He has faith in and respect for his fellow prisoners in the camp, even the Romulans [who you'd think would be the last people a Klingon would ever trust or respect]. He's a Wife Guy, which I just adore. He's got a sharp sense of humor, he's got trauma from being held as a prisoner of the Dominion for so long, he's friends with Local Twink Julian Bashir.

Martok is also the one who talks Worf down from being such a hardline asshole. When Alexander comes aboard the Rotarran, it's Martok who helps them start to build a better relationship. When it looks like the Worf-Dax wedding is off, it's Martok who encourages Worf to soften his stance [yes, it's also implied Dax is pressured into apologizing to Sirella, but that's another post for another day]. Martok is the example of being a Stoic Warrior Man while also being a rounded person.

This isn't to say Worf doesn't grow on his own, but a lot of his growth happens in DS9 in ways that [to me] read as someone who's really only engaged in their culture in a vacuum or in an abstract way, and now he's hanging out with other Klingons, he's Making Friends with other Klingons, and he has the space [and is actively encouraged by other Klingon characters] to soften his stance and be a little more rounded.

I could also talk about Dax here, and her interactions with Klingon culture and how those affect Worf, but I think I'm done for now.

[storymaker14]

The House (House of Worf Part II)

[This was originally posted by me on another site on 26 July 2019; it has been copied here without change.]

Okay, so maybe Star Trek, especially Worf's story, is really on my mind... my thanks to Memory Alpha, Memory Beta, and various Google searches starting with "Klingon word for...".

Ten days after the Hobus supernova

The destruction of Romulus meant that Chancellor Martok of the Klingon High Council was extremely busy. It also meant that Federation Ambassador to the Klingon Empire Alexander Rozhenko was extremely busy, as was his wife V'Lin, attache to Councillor T'Latrek of Vulcan.

Being gin'tak to the House of Martok meant that former Starfleet commander -- captain, technically though briefly -- Worf was always extremely busy. He would not have it any other way, if he were honest with himself. And if recent events led to the chancellor being far from the House almost constantly, and Worf's son and daughter-in-law being off-planet, so be it; he would remain to keep all things in order as they should be. Still, he decided that a brief respite to watch the news was understandable and proper. And the company was enjoyable as well.

"You see?" Worf said, pointing to the screen as the newsreader discussed the misfortune of the Empire's long-standing rival and occasional ally with untoward glee. "They speak of the glory and triumph of billions dead. As if a star could act intentionally and honorably." He growled his displeasure and turned his companion, seated beside him. "Absurd, don't you agree?'

The response was a thoughtful burble and a furrowed brow beneath a ridged bone crest that seemed barely formed but still resembled his own. The small Vulcan-Klingon-Human hybrid shook the wooden block clenched in her fist as if expressing an echo of her grandfather's frustration with the news. Then as if remembering there actually was a block in her fist, she popped one corner of it in her open mouth.

"I see you do," Worf said with satisfaction, returning his attention to the screen, even if it did increase his frustration to watch it. He lasted barely a minute longer before making a noise of determination and shutting the screen off; his granddaughter found the noise very accurate and copied it. "Will you rest?" he asked her. "Or will you join me?"

The small hand reached in his direction answered that question.

"Good," Worf smiled, picking her up and putting her in the carrier he wore. "Then come; we have a lot to do."

On the matter of naming their daughter, Alexander and V'Lin had decided they wanted something neither definitively Klingon nor Vulcan, but random phonemes would be unacceptable. An investigation of their ancestor's names had determined that the child had great-grandmothers named Kaasin (his side) and T'Kandra (her side). Add to this the fact that both had Human ancestry -- he two generations ago, she two centuries ago -- and a small modification to a Human name had been suggested by V'Lin; after trying it out for a day, Alexander had agreed.

As they walked into the kitchen together, they were greeted warmly by Kaga, the chef for the House, whose chest could be charitably described as immense and barrel-shaped. "Gin'tak Worf! And the young Kaasandra! What can I do for you both?"

"The chancellor has decided to dine at home tonight," Worf said, while Kaasandra continued to thoughtfully suck on the end of the block, the Klingon letter on each of its sides of less interest to her at her age than the taste and feel of the material.

"Ah... did you have something in mind?"

That prompted another smile from Worf; for him to even dare suggest anything to Kaga would have felt ridiculous, if not inappropriate. Both Martok and Worf had dined at Kaga's Klingon café on the old Deep Space Nine, at a frequency that had more to do with the quality of his food than the fact that his was the only Klingon cuisine on the station that didn't come from a replicator. Kaga had been more idle than he cared to be after the station's destruction, even after the new station was completed, so being head chef for the chancellor's House had been an opportunity at which he jumped. "I am sure whatever you decide would be superior to anything I might."

That immense barrel chest lurched as he gave a hearty laugh. "I'm sure as well." Turning to the child at Worf's chest, he asked, "And you, young one. I have prepared a fine grapok sauce; do you suppose you would be allowed a taste?"

Kaasandra gave him a look that fit more with her pointed ears than her crested forehead, as if deciding whethereating grapok sauce was truly logical.

"If you will not," Worf said to her, "I certainly will." With a nod, Kaga brought forth a bowl filled with the brown liquid and a spoon; Worf dipped the latter into the former and tasted, well-pleased. "I recommend it," he continued, offering the tip of the spoon to her.

A sniff and a cautious opening of the mouth, and a moment later Kaasandra showed her obvious agreement with her grandfather with whole-body lurches of pleasure at the taste.

"Now if only she might try something to put it on," Kaga chuckled. "Maybe I should speak with V'Lin again, to see if I might give the young one gagh or racht… perhaps just the one worm."

Whether by necessity of living on a multi-species space station for years, or simply by a desire to feed all beings of all species, Kaga had shown himself quite willing to be creative when it came to satisfying a Vulcan's preferences -- though Worf still wondered exactly how she managed to maintain, and Kaga support, a vegetarian diet on the Klingon homeworld. Knowing the difficulty, V'Lin had made it clear she did not expect her daughter to participate in the same restrictions... though even she could not hide just a hint of distaste at her daughter eating live food. On the other hand, though, not even a full Klingon child would necessarily eat live food at Kaasandra's age. "It will be discussed," Worf said simply.

Kaga nodded agreement, then turned to shout for his assistant. "Birktal! Come; we need to prepare a feast!" Turning back to the gin'tak and child, he bowed as low as his belly would allow. "We will be ready for the Chancellor."

"I have no doubt," Worf said, and without further preamble turned to go. There was still much to do, not the least of which was his next duty. His granddaughter still at his chest, he made sure that the handful of other workers know the head of the House would be home shortly, and that all must be in order for his arrival. Once this was done, however, there was one place that Martok would surely visit that Worf felt was only worthy of his attention, none other.

The room had once, long ago, been shared by sisters Lazhna and Shen, daughters of Martok and Lady Sirella. Since their deaths, and their mother's soon after, it had become a place of remembrance for the great women that Martok had lost. Five years later, Martok's son and last surviving child Drex had joined them in Sto'Vo'Kor, and his remembrance was added. Martok would unquestionably come to pay his respects, though he would not linger to dwell upon the past. And so it fell to Worf to ensure it was in order.

But to the surprise of his gin'tak, Martok was already there. "Chancellor," Worf said, straightening up involuntarily. "I was not told you had arrived."

The chancellor stood, removing his robe of office and simply becoming Worf's old friend and adopted brother. "No one was told, Worf," Martok said. "But when the chancellor wishes to be transported somewhere directly and for no one to be told, that is what happens." He smiled seeing the child escorting Worf. "Hello, Kaasandra; bringing glory to the House of Worf already, are you?"

Martok laughed even as Worf responded. "This is not the House of Worf, brother. It is still your House."

"In name, yes," Martok agreed, even as he looked around at pictures of his daughters, his son, his magnificent wife. A low eloquent grumble rattled in his chest. "Too much loss," he said, and Worf could see that both the recent death of faceless billions, and that of four dearly loved in the past, weighed upon him. "But you," he said, turning back to Worf. "You and your son, his wife, your grandchild--"

"Grandchildren," Worf interrupted softly, and at Martok's confusion, he added, "V'Lin has found she is due again."

"Grandchildren!" Martok laughed, and even the normally-serious Kaasandra waved her block in happiness. "And you still say this is not the House of Worf?"

Worf, for his part, did not laugh or smile. "I would not presume--"

"I know you would not," Martok said, waving away his objection with his hand. "But even if my cousin inherits the House when I am gone, this will still be your House in reality." He looked at Kaasandra, then at his gin'tak. "May I..?"

That finally elicited a smile. "Of course," said Worf, extracting the child from her carrier and passing her to Martok, reflecting as he did that he found himself smiling far more these days than he had in too many years.

He took her in his hands, the joy at simply being a man holding a child seeming to undo years of age and turmoil in his face. "A proud young girl, of a proud family," he declared. "I doubt anyone could stand in the way of whatever she decides." He sat on what had been Shen's bed, lightly bouncing her on a knee.

At this, however, Kaasandra grew a bit restless and concerned. She reached a hand up toward Martok's face, unfortunately choosing the side of his missing eye, which meant he didn't catch her movement. Worf, however, did, taking a long step and intercepting her tiny hand. Her lip quivered in frustration even as he admonished her. "Kaasandra… puqnI'be'oy… only with me and your parents."

"What is it?" Martok said, turning his eye toward them.

"She has proven... precocious at certain Vulcan talents," he replied, taking her back, to her mild displeasure.

A pause as Martok processed this, then he roared with laughter. "Unless she intends to give military secrets to the Kinshaya, I don't mind if she does as she wishes!"

"Still," Worf said, his apprehension fading even as he tried to remain gently stern toward his granddaughter, who was now reaching for his face. "Only us, for now."

As Kaasandra lightly touched his temple, he felt the gentle stirring of his mind as her own brushed against it. He pushed forward the strong impression that Martok meant safety, and there was no danger; she accepted it, adding the abstract association to her own thoughts. A quick addendum that Martok's mind was not to be touched, and he gently pulled his head away from her hand, then gave the child back to Martok. This time, she clearly enjoyed the bouncing on his knee, to the degree where she even offered him her precious wooden block.

Martok laughed again and pushed the block back toward her. "Please, keep it. I have many other things to hold onto." His eye flickered around the room once more, and Worf knew to what his friend was referring. "But thank you." The tip of the block returned to her mouth.

As he watched them, Worf returned to the touch of Kaasandra's mind to his own. Of course, he had not been the only one that Kaasandra had touched; her mother's impression was strong and lingered, and her father had clearly shared his mind with her too. Kaasandra clearly saw her grandfather as to be loved and trusted; her mother respected and admired him. As for her father...

Whenever Worf's mind touched hers, the lingering remnant of Alexander's mind sensed his, and there was an almost reflexive bitterness toward him. But as time went on, the feeling that followed after the reflex had grown warmer in stages. The last ten to twelve years had begun to mend Worf's relationship with his son, and the last year had accelerated the process greatly. The wounds still existed, but were healing; his actions were not forgotten, but they were gradually being forgiven, with restitution being silently offered and gratefully accepted.

The House was Martok's… but perhaps this world, this dwelling, with his family, truly was Worf's home.

[dilfsisko]

Kaga the Klingon Chef I would love to throw furniture at you while you recited love poetry

[oleandy]

fuck it my favourite character in ds9 is kaga the klingon chef. i am swayed by his accordion playing and his beautiful voice

[c-rowlesdraws]

not letting a little thing like not having finished DS9 yet stop me from making up a post-canon OC! Live free, chase your dreams.

Ghezal Chagak is a professional baker born and raised on Cardassia Prime. After the bombardment of her homeworld destroys her workplace along with the economy, she moves to Deep Space 9 to open a new little bakery of her own and send money back to her family. The mix of cultures and flavor preferences on the station (how could she have known shellfish and fresh fruit breakfast pastries wouldn’t take off?) are daunting at first, along with lingering anti-Cardassian sentiment among the locals, but she’s determined to make things work.

[protectspock]

In the 2370s y/n is sold to this guy

[startrekscribbles]

Perhaps today IS a good day to dine!

Come for the racht and stay for the opera! Chef Kaga shirts now available:

https://leedrawsstuff.threadless.com/designs/perhaps-today-is-a-good-day-to-dine

[ambassadorquark]

i still think a ds9 episode we were robbed of was one specifically about all the wacky characters who own businesses on the promenade bc the ones who AREN’T quark and garak are like, kaga the singing klingon chef. you know there’s like one exceedingly normal bajoran who sells used replicators and is like this is a fucking nightmare.

[klingon-positivity]

ID: An edit of a DS9 screenshot from the Klingon restaurant. Klingon chef Kaga is singing to Julian Bashir and his date. The neon blue text says, “Can I offer you a Klingon Chef in this trying time?” There are musical notes and glitter as decoration. End ID.

[cemetrygatess]

Does Klingon chef have a fanon name? Seems like his beta Canon name is Kaga but I am curious if folks have decided otherwise at any point.

[darkiecat]

The Klingon restaurant?

Is Chef Kaga back!? o.o

[weyounbathwater]

Kaga/Klingon Chef, Yelgrun, and Kimara Cretak

Okay now here we go

Kin yelgrun, kiss the Klingon chef because I love him I think he should get kiss. Sorry Cretak you’re a traitor I’m going to have my Klingon chef boyfriend sit on you to death bye

[dilfsisko]

(Image ID: A picture of Kaga the Klingon Chef from Deep Space Nine. He is a large klingon man wearing a white outfit playing a traditional klingon instrument. The text reads “Need to Smoke weed with this bitch”./End ID)

[jazzypizzaz]

“The Klingons had stacked Dr. Bashir's heap of bodies in a small room off the Promenade that once was, he recalled, a bistro serving bad Klingon food. How gruesomely appropriate, he thought bitterly. The Klingon cook--whom Worf never patronized, saying he preferred replicated human food to badly prepared Klingon  food--had left with the first wave of emigrants, probably because he could only survive as a restauranteur with  a population density high enough that some were forced to patronize his eatery by necessity. But the place still smelled like rotting flesh.”

--Vengeance

you shut your mouth about Kaga the Klingon chef!!!!  he’s a culinary artist and I won’t hear differently!

[c-rowlesdraws]

Did you love the Klingon Chef on DS9 as much as me and my roommate did? He needed to be in more episodes, he was awesome.

I do love him!! I also wish we’d seen more of him. He’s so multitalented, too: he plays two musical instruments (that we know of), he sings, he can cook... what a guy. ❤️ He doesn’t have an official name in the show, but apparently some beta canon/other materials call him Kaga after Chairman Kaga from the original Japanese Iron Chef, and I love that a lot.

[cindermetalheadgw2]

I wonder if chef kaga in arborstone is a reference to the singing klingon chef kaga from star trek deep space 9