A JASMINE-SCENTED NIGHT BREEEZE carried the distant buzz of an enthusiastic if slightly off-key hurdy-gurdy through the open half-door of Prosatio Silban’s galleywagon, ending and re-beginning amid a cloud of applause and children’s laughter. The small umber man – a…
Tag: Across the Rimless Sea (The Prosatio Silban Tales)
Culinary myths for the mystically inclined (with a few ancillaries).
Small Packages (A Prosatio Silban Tale)
HAD IT NOT BEEN FOR a layman’s questioning, Prosatio Silban might never have learned of the Hidden God. “What’s with all the filled fare?” he overheard someone say, on a day when the beefy cook was browsing cosmopolitan Soharis’ thronged…
Grammar (A Prosatio Silban Amuse-Bouche)
“WHO MAKES UP THE RULES for which goes with what?” asked m’Lady Phytan Gorrista’s eldest son. “Eating meat with a fork, soup with a large spoon, or drinking yava from a ceramic mug? What about combining oil of olives with…
Prosatio Silban and the Shunned Fragment
THERE ARE SOME RECIPES A cook was not meant to know. It had begun innocently enough, in epicurean Pormaris’ enormous Archive of Gastronomic Artifice. This beloved institution was holy to two of the six-hundred-thirteen Flickering Gods: Toth-Ar the Divine Scribe…
Prosatio Silban and the Holy Terror
An homage to the Cook For Any Price’s D&D roots. Enjoy. THE FIRST THING TO KNOW about getting along in basalt-wrought Zug Ululat is that you must never, under any circumstances, mention the howling. Prosatio Silban knew this. And yet,…
What Dreams (A Prosatio Silban Tale)
COOKING IS MORE THAN SIMPLY preparation: it is also a celebration of source, and hence a manifestation of living history. “Where did you find this recipe?” m’Lady Phytan Gorrista asked between well-laden forkfuls. “I have never tasted its like.” Prosatio…
Ancient History (A Prosatio Silban Tale)
A CHANCE ENCOUNTER CAN SOMETIMES be profitable – but the profit, though rich, needn’t necessarily be monetary. The sun was just kissing the golden-hilled western horizon when Prosatio Silban pulled up on the plaited yak-hair reins, signaling his dray-beast to…
Prosatio Silban and the Pernicious Wishes
PROSATIO SILBAN STOOD UP, WIPED his hands on his kneebreeches and cursed mildly in the name of a minor god. If only this wheel hadn’t broken, he thought, I’d now be in many-harbored Soharis cooking fresh-caught fish for wealthy or…
Prosatio Silban and the Keeper of Memories
“I AM THE KEEPER OF Memories,” said the man in the natty blue silk robe. “What do you offer?” “For your custom, or your breakfast?” replied Prosatio Silban. “Breakfast first!” cried the Keeper of Memories, and chuckled. “Always. Food before…
Prosatio Silban and the Disconsolate Wineherd
EVEN OVER THE CLANK OF his galleywagon, Prosatio Silban could hear the sobs. The weeper, a well-to-do farmer by his dress, was standing beside a smartly-appointed and -laden oxcart at the crossroads near Vineol, a town renowned throughout the Uulian…
Prosatio Silban and the Haunted Oyster
OF ALL THE THINGS THAT make the Three Cities and Thousand Villages of the Uulian Commonwell unique, perhaps none so typify that uniqueness as their calendar. Where other peoples marked time in a strictly numeric fashion, the Uulians used a…
A Prosatio Silban Amuse-Bouche: Meals
“WHAT MAKES A MEAL A meal?” asked one of Prosatio Silban‘s customers over a plate of pan-seared fidget-hen breast, green beans and blue rice. “Many have attempted to define that term,” answered the Cook For Any Price, wiping his hands…