Chương 61: Vol 1. The Long Quest For Brisket: Part 9

"I'm sorry, we need to do what?" Tavi, Rava, and Rida were all standing around a preparation table that rested inside the estate kitchen, its surface blighted with countless wounds. The brilliant yellowish and orange light of the morn was pouring over them through the narrow windows, revealing the dusty remnants of flour suspended in the air.

Breakfast had yet to be cleared away, with dirty plates sitting beside the washbasin, bundles of herbs hanging from the rafters, and yesterday's bread still occupying a corner of the table, hardened and inedible. Rida had a piece of parchment in her paws, eyeing it up and down.

"Our seneschal said that, since this is the last night Prince Tahir and Sir Christian will be staying with us, she wants us to prepare a meal of cultural significance from Sir Christian's homeland." Rida waved the piece of parchment paper in her paw.

"He apparently said, 'Let me think for a moment,' then came back with these instructions."

"Let me see," Rava said. She snatched the paper from Rida.

"What is'Texas Smoked Brisket'?"

"Beats me," Rida said with a slight shrug.

"I've never heard of brisket before."

"Then how are we supposed to make it?"

"You're the cook here," Rida said.

"You figure it out—those instructions are all basically Elvish to me." Rava put the paper close to her face and scanned it over, squinting her eyes. She snarled in an expression of disgust.

"Ugh, this looks so dry. There is no sauce, just salt and pepper. This is not a recipe! This is just—" She turned the parchment upside down and right side up again, as if that would change the contents.

"No rosemary. No onions. No garlic. No thyme. No wine. No stock. Not even a glaze. Just salt. Pepper. Cow. Smoke. If this is the height of the culinary tradition of this Texas place, I pray I never end up there."

"I mean, perhaps they are very poor," Tavi said.

"That is no excuse. This—""Just tell us how to make it," Rida said.

"Right, right." Rava looked over the paper again.

"So, it looks like we will need a special device that slowly cooks the breast of a cow, fresh off the bone, at a specific temperature, after we trim away the thickest exterior fat with a knife, then you need to… am I reading that right?"

"You have the paper," Rida said.

"You need to 'rub it like it's your partner's ass, slowly massaging a month's worth of salt and pepper into it.'""He could not possibly mean that literally," Tavi said. Tavi and Rida both looked towards the spice cabinet. They had a couple jars of pepper and a couple jars of salt, but certainly not a month's worth. Rava checked the parchment.

"Uh, he underlined month's worth and put little arrows around it, then underneath one of the arrows he wrote do not skip."

"It should be fine," Rida said.

"We can ask our seneschal to give us the coins to buy the salt and pepper."

"How much do you think that would cost?" Rava asked.

"When I was still at home in the Maraveth Realm, my parents would spend a good five silver just for a week of salt." Rida thought for a moment.

"Well, given how far we are from the Zereth Ocean… probably a good three gold."

"What?" Rava said, her tail going rigid.

"That is three months' worth of our salary."

"We work for a royal household," Rida said evenly.

"The Serans may not have Maraveth money, but it is not exactly like they are poor."

"Um, also, while we are at it," Tavi interjected, "… how exactly are we supposed to go about … finding a brisket machine?" If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"Oh!" Rava said.

"Looks like he drew a diagram." She turned the paper around so everyone could see. On the parchment was a crude ebony ink drawing of a contraption: three unintentionally disproportioned boxes, one containing flames (based on the little triangles), another containing what Tavi presumed was a cow, though it looked more like a gargantuan rat suffering from severe obesity. Above the fire Morton had written: FIRE GO HERE. Beneath the other box: MEAT GO OVER HERE.

And then next to the drawing, he had underlined five times: I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY, DO NOT, AND I REPEAT, DO NOT, PUT THE DAMN MEAT OVER THAT FIRE, OR I WILL HAUNT YOU WHEN I DIE. Tavi stared at the drawing.

"None of us are craftswomen."

"Looks like we will need to go into town."

"The lady expects us to build a machine for one recipe by tonight?"

"Looks like it," Rida said.

"Oh," Rava interjected, her ears slightly aback. Tavi and Rida didn't like the way she said that.

"What?" Tavi said slowly, snarling.

"Well…" Rava tilted her head side to side.

"Is this a bad time to say this takes… 12 hours?" The room went very quiet.

"What?" Tavi snarled.

"Yeah, it basically is just meat cooked for a very long time, then with some spices we apparently need to rub in like we are about to fuck it."

"So," Tavi said, counting on her claws, "we need to find a craftswoman, build a special machine to make the recipe we have never heard of, acquire an entire cow's breast, prepare it according to the instructions of a mad foreigner's ramblings, then cook it in that special machine for over twelve hours."

"Um… looks like it?" Rava said, tapping her claws innocently.

"By hour twenty TODAY?"

"Uh, yes." Tavi held up both paws.

"It is already hour seven." Rava nodded.

"Looks like it."

"I'm going to die," Tavi said.

"It was nice knowing you all." Tavi stared at the ceiling and lifted her arms up high.

"Oh, Dual-Gods," she shouted like a wannabe thespian, "if either of you are listening, now would be an absolutely wonderful time to strike me dead and bring me to paradise." Nothing happened.

"Oh, how cruel. Seroth, why do you do this to me?"

"Okay, okay, no need to be dramatic," Rida said.

"This just means we need to get a move on." She snatched the parchment from Rava and stuffed it into a tube beneath her arm. Rava tightened her apron.

"I know a smith in town," she said.

"How?" Rida asked.

"She's, um… a distant relative. Third cousin, I think."

"And she runs a smithing shop in Torren?"

"Yep! That side of my family actually has money."

"But can she build this drawing?" Rava shrugged.

"I have zero clue." They hurried out the kitchen door.

"Wonderful!" Tavi exclaimed.

"We need a blacksmith, a butcher, enough salt and pepper to bankrupt a peasant household, and twelve uninterrupted hours."

"Thirteen, technically." Rida stopped walking. Her tail went rigid. Slowly, she turned her head towards Rava with ire.

"What?"

"It needs to sit outside of the machine for an hour, to, uh, cool, I think."

"And you are telling us this now?"

"Sorry," Rava said with a slump in her posture.

"Tavi," Rida said, "are you wanting to go see that lovely ditch near here?"

"Why?" Tavi asked.

"I want to take out some trash." They continued walking outside.

"Oh!" Rava said.

"What about finishing the breakfast dishes?"

"Rava—Seroth, help me—if you don't stop talking…" Rida said. And so, the trio made their way into town to get a machine to make Texas Smoked Brisket, and while Tavi was sure Seroth was on her side, time definitely did not seem to be.