IT BEGAN, AS DO SO many seriously frivolous matters, with an impassioned tavern-boast.
“Outside of present company, the best cookery in the Uulian Commonwell is found not in epicurean Pormaris but in its provinces,” burly, wise-eyed Apista Thurtok said. “And the best meal is roasted fidget-hen basted in honeywine, made at The Bouncing Wench in Yellow Meadows. And that is the final word.”
“The Soup Demons it isn’t!” rejoined the wiry and emphatic Olto Grex. “It’s One in Silver’s inwards-stew in Crows’ Path.” Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Gourmet Gallivant”