WHAT DOES ONE DO WHEN a beloved tool breaks down in mid-use?
With a series of staccato clunks, Prosatio Silban’s rosewood grinding-pot ground to a loud halt. He shook it, slapped it, frowned at it, then set it on his preparation-counter and removed the lid.
Inside was a tangle of partly pulverized kobi-nuts and twisted metal.
Some people use the word ‘God’ the way white supremacists use the word ‘patriot.'”
— me
SOME PEOPLE WILL GO TO any lengths for a good story.
Prosatio Silban fetched down his scrapbook form the shelf in his sleeping berth, opened it to the middle, and whistled. Fourteen lovingly steamed and pasted labels, he thought with a grin. I can’t wait for the fifteenth!
He was referring to one of the Uulian Commonwell’s most endearing products and enduring mysteries. Plithel’s Finest was acknowledged by gastronomes far and wide as the pinnacle of the brewer’s art. Despite a quartet of imported hops, some hailing from across the Rimless Sea, the ale’s signature pucker was well-balanced by a soft fruitiness; the fragrance whispered of sun-splashed spring flowers, sugar-lemon, and deepleaf pine; and it delivered a mellow yet unmistakable kick.
This is a Print Shop
Crossroads of civilization. Refuge of all the arts against the ravages of time. Armory of fearless truth against whispering rumor. Incessant trumpet of trade. From this place words may fly abroad not to perish as waves of sound, but fixed in time. Not corrupted by hurrying hand but verified in proof.
Friend, you stand on sacred ground: This is a print shop.”
— Beatrice Warde
“WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TOAST?” asked the friendly inebriate supporting himself on the bar at Pelvhi’s Chopping-House.
“I have several,” replied Prosatio Silban with some delicacy, given the circumstance. “There is stone-rye with blackberry preserves, or sourdough with yak-butter, or …”
“No, no!” the man protested through tipple-thickened lips. “I mean, what is your favorite pledge to drink to?”
The Talmud is tough because it assumes holistic knowledge of the whole Talmud, referencing texts and rulings that come much earlier or much later without stopping to really explain what the rabbis are talking about. The Talmud was not meant for beginners.”
— Dr. Sara Ronis
ONE OF THE BEST WAYS to learn what you know is to teach it to someone else – and sometimes, to yourself.
Prosatio Silban swore under his breath and pondered what to do next. His latest intern convinced him that some people shouldn’t come near a kitchen, much less work in one.
That was the case with Vello Pirior, who had distinguished himself by spilling expensive ingredients, dropping fragile or injurious equipment, and almost burning down the cook-errant’s cozy galleywagon – comfortable for a party of one, but uninhabitable depending on the personality and habits of a second party.
The Cook For Any Price had gotten into this professional predicament through a good-faith request by his old friend and colleague, Crasso, the current Ranking Culinarian at Pormaris’ Archive of Gastronomic Artifice.
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