Tag: Fictions

IT BEGAN, AS SO MANY good tales do, at Pelvhi’s Chopping-House. But it didn’t end there.

That bustling asylum for epicurean Pormaris’ vast and varied army of hospitality workers was especially busy for a night in the stormy Season of Huddling. The sounds of lively conversation accented by clinking glasses and tableware were audible even before Prosatio Silban opened the stucco tavern’s brass-hinged oaken door. A rush of warm, smoky air enveloped him as he entered, as did a dozen loud helloes from familiar voices.

“Good evening, everyone!” he called, shaking rainwater off his clothes and making his way to the crowded long bar at the capacious room’s rear. He took the lone vacant seat and lifted one hand toward the tavern’s namesake, who – as usual – was conducting a handful of discrete and discreet conversations. She courteously disengaged herself and sauntered over to the beefy cook, a meaningful expression on her half-wizened face. Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and The Public Discourse“

WE ALL HAVE THOSE DAYS when everything goes wrong – but not always do we have someone looking over our shoulder while it does.

Prosatio Silban stifled an exasperated sigh. Mustn’t show my impatience, either with her or my circumstances, he thought. After all, it’s my long-practiced livelihood being decided here.

“Why did you turn off that stove-burner?” Nira Llirb asked, arching a disapproving eyebrow. “The beans are still cooking. And what’s this in the blue-rice pot?” Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Avid Inspector”

SOMETIMES, A SMALL MALADY CAN be a big problem.

Prosatio Silban groaned, sat up in his sleeping-berth, and put his head in his hands. If these hiccoughs don’t (hic) end soon, he thought, I will. Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Minor Plague”

AS THE OLD SAYING GOES, “No one here gets out alive” – or unmarred.

“Where did you get that scar?” asked the woman with the flirtatious smile, indicating Prosatio Silban’s right hand.

The cook-errant raised one eyebrow and a mouth-corner. “D’you mean the calluses on my thumb and forefinger?” he asked. “That’s from holding a chop-knife all and every day for more than a quarter-century.” Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Maker’s Mark”

AS THE WISE SAY: “Some aspirations should remain so.”

Prosatio Silban put the finishing touches on a plate of fidget-hen confit and pureed artichokes, and stood back to admire it. I don’t know how I do it, but I’m glad and grateful that I can, he thought in expectation of his longtime customer’s expression. Blessings to you, O Julchi, Goddess of Autodidactic Gastronomy!

With the steaming plate balanced on one raised hand, he descended his galleywagon’s three wooden steps, then sauntered over to a table-and-chairs where sat a pleasant-faced and stylish woman of his own middling years. He placed the dish before her with a flourish, and she sighed in anticipatory delight.

“I don’t know how you do it, Master Prosatio,” she said. “You never disappoint.” Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Assembly Eclectic”

“WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF garnishes?” asked one of Prosatio Silban’s regular customers as he set down a healthy portion of sauced beef-loin with accordion potatoes.

“That is a complicated question, and one which inspires many different answers,” The Cook For Any Price replied with a thank-you-for-asking grin. “My own understanding is that they visually accent the dishes they accompany, making them appear more appetizing.”

“Then why do you not use them in your own cuisine?” came the riposte.

The cook-errant’s grin widened. “Because I believe that’s the plate’s function,” he said. “Anything else is mere indulgence.”

(If you’re new to these tales, here are the preface and introduction. And if you want more of them, in two easy-to-read packages, here are the first and second e-books!)

BY GREAT POPULAR DEMAND, AND barring any unforeseen circumstances, forthcoming editions of The Cook For Any Price — both Across the Rimless Sea and More Commonwell Tales — are planned to include a smattering of appended recipes. Until then, here are four to tempt your mental tastebuds:

—

From Prosatio Silban and the Centuried Stew: “Stew”

This recipe has undergone modification by generations of one family, as the original ingredients became unavailable. It is said that the original flavor remains unchanged, which makes sense as the original ingredients are still lurking comfortably in the background.

To cook: Begin by sautéing a mixture of onion, carrot, and celery in an enormous cauldron. When those have cooked down into pliability, add sufficient quantities of preserved apple, spiced vanth, twile, jugged harrian, and potent moon-wine. Simmer for eight hundred years, adding such substitutes and seasonings as are dictated by the cooks’ faithful and experienced palates.

To serve: Ladle into unglazed earthenware cup or bowl and eat with a small wooden spoon. Mind that your knees don’t buckle. Continue reading “From Commonwell Cookery“

THERE IS A REASON THAT the expression “take care with your wishes” is such a widespread cliché.

It was a fine spring day, mixing an unbroken vault of blue, the alluring scent of sun-warmed fragrantia, and magah-birds crooning sprightly refrains from the branches of occasional latticewood trees. Prosatio Silban tugged at the plaited yak-hair reins, brought his dray-beast and galleywagon to a gentle halt, and whistled in wonder.

They had emerged from the trees into a broad lawn encircling a tall white dome set atop a gentle rise. The dome seemed to be missing a vertical section, but from his perspective, the cook-errant couldn’t see what lay within the darkened cavity. Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Consequential Light”