Cooking Up Trouble

[Beutha]

Select the choicest cuts of meat and wash thoroughly with cool spring water. Pat dry.

Beutha nodded to herself and sorted through the stack of bear meat she had carved off of the many animals she had hunted down for their tongues. "Waste not want not," she said to herself. A life of living on the edge of society had taught her that lesson. After a few moments she has a couple nice pieces on the table, succulent and well marbled with fat. She rinsed them over a basin with some water and dried them off with a clean linen cloth.

Dust the meat with spices, working it in with your hands until well seasoned. Let stand for 30 minutes.

Beutha rubbed the bear meat with the spices she had bought locally and set each piece aside. As she counted off the minutes she stirred the coals on the copper brazier until she was rewarded with a deep cherry red glow and a steady wave of heat, without any flames.

Drop a generous dollop of butter into a cast iron pan and melt over high heat until bubbling. If no butter is available oil may be substituted.

Beutha cursed under her breath. "Blood and Thunder! Where am I going to find butter in Ratchet?" Dashing down the stairs of the loft she rented from a pair of goblin merchants she inquired about butter. They both shrugged as one and recommended that she check the inn. However a quick jog a few buildings over proved futile and she returned to her loft butterless. She went over to the recipe and read it again. "Oil! I can use oil. That I do have!"

She rummaged through her backpack and came up with the vials of fish oil that had dropped from the naga she slew along the Hillsbrad coastline. Taking the cast iron pan she emptied an entire vial into the bottom and placed it on the copper brazier. Within minutes the oil was smoking hot. A slight briny smell drifted up from the pan but Beutha shrugged it off. "It's not too bad. The spices should mask any fishy taste."

Place the seasoned meat into the pan and saute until well browned on both sides. Reduce the heat and cover, letting the meat cook for another 15 minutes.

"Saute? What is a saute?" She decided that was a fancy shmancy way of saying fry and plopped the meat into the hot oil. As soon as the meat hit the pan she had to back up as the hot oil splattered in a small area affect around the brazier. The smell of hot fish oil was suddenly accented by the aroma of burning bear flesh. After several minutes Beutha picked up a set of tongs and flipped the meat over. The blackened crust of the meat sizzled with hot oil. She waited the same amount of time again (more or less) and then covered the pan with her linen cloth.

Whistling an orcish folk song she went over to her table and started to peel some earthroot. She was on her third root when she heard the sound of boots swiftly mounting the stairs to her loft. A pointy eared goblin head poked up from the stairwell, his face scrunched up in disgust.

"Hey toots! What in the name of the Sundering Seas are you doing up here? The whole place reeks like rotten tuna. We can't have our custom...GAH!!"

The goblin was gesturing frantically behind her, words trying to escape his beak and failing miserably. Beutha turned around casually to see an impressive pillar of orange flame leaping up from the iron pan and licking the wooden boards of her ceiling.

"GAH!" said Beutha.

Dropping a half peeled earthroot, Beutha dashed over to the brazier and tried to fan the flames down, but all she managed to accomplish was cause it to flare up even brighter. She grasped the handle of the pan, not realizing until too late that it was scorching hot. She turned about in the room at a loss on what to do, her mind filled with the panicked screams of hysterical goblin. In desperation she ran out to the little balcony and tossed the flaming pan over the railing. It arced out like a mage's fireball and dropped down to the shop front like a small meteor, to land directly into the arms of a goblin cloth merchant carrying bolts of linen. A burst of flame engulfed the hapless fellow, who's shriek split the calm afternoon air. He dropped the flaming bolts of cloth and ran about the town square, a comet tail of fire trailing behind him. After two circuits of the large tree in the center of the town he made a straight line for the warf, running as fast as his little legs could take him. He did not stop at the end but launched himself straight off and into the cool blue waters of the harbor.

After several moments of silence spent staring off at the tiny speck of the goblin bobbing on the surface of the ocean Beutha turned to face her landlord, who's face was a puffy grey/green and was sputtering gibberish at her.

She sighed and went to the recipe on the table. Picking up a quill she made an amendment.

Drop a generous dollop of butter into a cast iron pan and melt over high heat until bubbling. If no butter is available fill the pan with the spring water and boil the meat until soft.

"Bear stew might be good. Everyone likes stew."

[Evanthe]

[This is hilarious. My favorite line was 'Blood and Thunder! Where am I going to find butter in Ratchet? ]

[Hellista]

(("I Can't Believe its Not Blood and Thunder" should be a brand name for butter.))

[Amoola]

((Loved the mental image of a flaming goblin launching himself off of the Ratchet dock! Priceless, absolutely priceless! I hope to see more cooking lessons. *grins*))

[Beutha]

(( next episode, "Beutha's Blood and Thunder Boiled Clamsl" ))

[Beutha]

Boiled Clams in Vegetable Broth

Gather a good supply of fresh clams from the beach. *tip, as a time saving measure you can often find fresh clams already harvested off the bloody corpses of naga and murlocs. Wash the clams and rinse out any sand. When clean take a sturdy knife or dagger and shuck them to remove the meat.

Beutha blinked at the recipe, then regarded her stack of fresh clams. She had taken the time saving advice and torn through the naga community north of Zoram’Gar, collecting a couple sacks of the hard shelled seafood. They stood in a large pile on her wooden table, glistening wet and clean.

“Shuck?”

Beutha shrugged and picked up a clam in one hand and her dagger in the other. She regarded them both for a few moments, perplexed as to how this is supposed to work. With a look of concentration on her face she drew back the arm holding the clam and with a grunt flung it with all her might towards the far wooden wall, simultaneously flicking the dagger through the air with the other hand aiming for the spot where she envisioned the clam striking the wall. The clam smacked into the wall with a loud “THWACK!” several inches below where the dagger imbedded itself into the wood, quivering.

“Well, this is gonna take some time I see,” she thought to herself. She retrieved the dagger and the clam. There was a crack in the shell, but otherwise the two halves remained tightly sealed.

After several more failed attempts she heard the tell-tale thump on her loft steps of her landlord ascending. A pointy eared goblin head poked up tentatively from the stairwell.

“Say toots! What in the name of Captain Thalo'thas’ panties are ya doing up here? You’re making my teeth rattle.”

Beutha winding up for another toss answered over her shoulder. “I’m chucking these clams, but its harder than it looks.”

“Chucking cl…. “ he slapped his wrinkled forehead. “ No no no no no. Yer supposed to ‘shuck’ them, not ‘chuck’ them. Here lemme show you.”

He ventured into the loft, glancing up briefly and sighing at the scorch marks on his formerly pristine wooden ceiling. He took a clam from the table and gingerly cautiously held his hand out for the dagger. Beutha nodded, reversed the blade with a little toss (which caused the goblin to flinch back involuntarily) and handed it to him hilt first. He inserted the point into the gap between the two half shells and with a deft twist of his wrist they parted with an audible snap. A swipe with the dagger later and a delicate pink glob of clam meat hung dripping on the tip.

“That’s how you ‘shuck’ a clam.” With a self satisfied grin he handed her the dagger and sauntered across the loft and down the stairs.

Beutha felt foolish. “Little know it all.. “ she whispered to the goblin’s retreating back. “My way was more fun at least, and challenging.”

Several minutes of ‘shucking’ later, ( with a few more mischievous ‘chucks’ tossed in, resulting in the thump of a broom handle from down below) and she had a sizable pile of moist clam meat on the table.

Prepare a large pot with fresh spring water on a hot brazier. Season the water with salt. If you wish to add some rich flavour to your clams, a splash of white wine can be added to the brine. Add the clams.

Beutha lifted her heavy cast iron stew pot and set in on the glowing hot copper brazier she had mounted in the corner of her loft, where the walls and floor had been lined with sheets of beaten tin. She emptied several skins of spring water into the pot then scooped up the clam meat and plopped it all in.

She stood there and watched the pot. She watched, watched and watched some more. The water was still as a pond in Mulgore in the early morning. Shrugging she eventually walked over to the table to read the recipe again.

“White wine. I didn’t even know it came in any other color than red. “ Beutha didn’t have any wine, white or red. What she did have however was several casks of cherry grog from Booty Bay. One of the perks of living in Ratchet was easy access to strong liquor from across the ocean. Taking a keg she plucked out the cork and returned to the pot, which of course was now at a violent boil. Upending the keg she poured a generous stream of grog into the broth. She looked around for the cork, but failing to remember where she put it she brought the keg to her lips and took a deep swig.

Take a bunch of soup vegetablesh. Gather then in a bunchsh and slice and dice them. Add to the broth.

Beutha took a swig of grog and set the keg down. She dropped a pile of carrots, beets, onion and parsnip onto the table, then took out her two swords. The slender offhand weapon she had nicknamed“The Gift” while her larger, cleaver like main hand blade she took to calling “Thrall’s Fid.” Taking careful aim she brought the two swords up to bear and in a flurry of flashing blades, flakes of tuber and splinters of wood she sliced and diced the vegetables. Satisfied she sheathed Gift and Fid and gathered up the pile of debris and dropped it into the pot. She then took up the keg and splashed more grog into the broth, taking another swig for herself. The level of the broth rose perilously close to the edge of the pot.

Beutha returned to the recipe.

Schimmer the br….until veggg.eeblsh shjhft , Apppr….twen….utesh . Shpoooon ..btglwslfle.arph

Beutha blinked, She shrugged and took a swig.

Some time later she was seated on her outdoor porch, keg in hand and watching the town below while bellowing out a folk song.

“My mither built a tiny houshhe,
A tiny houshhe, a tiny houshhe
My mither built a tiny houshhe
To keep me from the mensh Ohh.

How can I keep my maidenhead
My maidenhead, my maidenhead
How can I keep my maidenhead
Amang so many mensh, Ohh?

The wallshh fell in and I fell out,
And I fell out, and I fell out;
The wallshh fell in and I fell out
Amang the merry menshh Ohh….”

Inside the loft, a steady wave of hot boiling broth was surging over the brim of the pot hissing into the hot coals. A dense fog of steam filled the room as a pool of scalding liquid, mushy tubers and wrinkled clam meat collected on the wooden floor. Gradually the pool disappeared as the liquid strained through the floor boards to rain down on the floor below. A scream of agony echoed through the building behind her.

Beutha took a swig and sang on.

[Beutha]

Tonight’s dinner was going to be special so Beutha wanted everything to be perfect and fresh. She had returned from her foraging, having spent the better part of the morning in the Shimmering Flats where she had hunted down the large tortoises for fresh meat to include in the bisque. From there she flew to the high reaches of Sun Rock Retreat to gather the ingredients for the main course.

The bisque simmered in the large pot resting on her copper brazier, which in turn was mounted in the corner of her loft where the floor was freshly tiled and sealed with waterproof resin. Bite sized morsels of succulent turtle meat and celery swirled to the surface as she gave the soup a good stir. She was ecstatic at how well it had turned out, with not a single kitchen disaster or mishap. All it needed was a few hours to simmer and stew for the flavors to intensify and mingle. Already the delicious aroma filled her tiny loft. Plenty of time to do the preparation work for the main course, which she would cook at the last minute so it could be served fresh and hot.

“Yusegar is gonna love this, I just know it.” She thought happily.

She was giving the bisque one last stir when she heard the tell tale thump thump thump of booted goblin feet ascending the stairs to her loft. A pointy eared green goblin head popped up carefully from the stairwell.

“Say Toots! Whatcha cookin today? That actually smells pretty darn good, is it take out?”

Beutha scowled at her landlord and waved her wooden spoon at him for emphasis. “Gol’Kosh! I cooked this myself just so you know. If you came up here expecting to get a taste well you can turn yourself right around. This is for a special dinner. Maybe if there are leftovers you can have a bowl. Maybe.”

The goblin looked hurt. “So that’s the thanks I get for putting up with all your accidents and making the modifications and repairs to MY loft? Hmmph! You are lucky I don’t double your rent to pay for the expenses. In fact, that’s not a bad idea,” he said, tugging at his ear in thought.

Beutha sighed. She could ill afford a rent increase and it was true that the fellow along with his brother had been pretty accommodating and patient.

“ZUG ZUG. I will send a bowl or two down to you and your brother when it is ready. I made plenty. But it has to stew for a while.”

The goblin’s face lit up, replaced in a few moments with curiosity as he spied the large sack in the far corner of the room. It was considerable size and obviously stuffed almost to the point of splitting with large round objects. As he regarded the sack his attention was caught by the very subtle shiver it made as it rested on the floor.

“Whatcha got there?” he asked, goblin nosiness getting the better of him.
Beutha set her spoon down and walked over to the sack. “Well you are just in time in fact to see. This is my main course and I have to prepare it in advance.”

The goblin came all the way into the loft and followed Beutha towards the sack. She undid the ties and pulled the plain brown linen down to reveal several large, white, fuzzy oblongs. The goblin approached closer, fascinated in the way the objects seemed to shiver as if alive.

“Well I’ll be an oily blackmouth. Are those things alive?” he asked.

Beutha shrugged. “In a sense yes. The insides are alive in any case.”

The goblin blinked at her. “Really? Whats inside?”

Beutha took up a cleaver and hacked the top off one of the oblongs. A strange clicking sound emanated from the gooey green depths if the interior. The goblin’s eyes went wide.

“What in the name of Gazlowe’s arse is that?” Tentatively he leaned forward to peer inside the exposed top of the oblong.

“Ah, That might not be a good idea. In fact if I were you …..” Beutha’s warning was cut off by tremendous goblin scream as in a blink of an eye a green many legged creature launched itself out of the oblong opening with a violent hiss and attached itself to her landlord’s face.

"HOLY MOTHER...!! GET IT OFF! GET OFF!! "

He ran around the loft blind, smashing into walls and tables while frantically clawing at the creature that has a firm grasp of his head. Black mandibles worked open and shut, dripping a viscous fluid as they sought for a soft spot on the goblin’s head to bite. In his blind rush the goblin stepped off the landing of her loft and into the stairwell.

Beutha winced at the sound of goblin careening down the stairs, screaming bloody terror the whole way down.

“Yes, well if you want Spicy Spider Sausage in hot Ichor Sauce to be fresh and tender, its best to get them young.”

[Evanthe]

[Hilarious. ]

[Beutha]

Hot Lion Chops

Ingredients:

1 medium sized lion, cleaned and dressed.
Several packages of Hot Spice mix.
1 large skillet.
1 large onion.

Slice the prepared lion into skillet sized chops and steaks. Place the skillet on a hot brazier or coals, coating the bottom with a splash of cooking oil or butter. Dust the chops with spice mix and sear both sides in the hot oil. Reduce the heat and add diced onion and cook until medium rare. Serve on a bed of steamed Khadgar's whisker.

Serves 4

Beutha read over the recipe several times until she was satisfied. She went over to her wooden table and retrieved the wash basin of steaming water, a bar of soap and a towel.

She turned to regard the large mountain lion tethered by a chain in the corner of her loft. The beast snarled at her, baring large yellowed fangs.

"Alright kitty. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but regardless you are going to get cleaned up. If you are good we can skip the dressing part. Sounds pointless in any case and I don't have the clothes to fit you."

The cat roared its defiance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later a pair of goblins downstairs stared at each other with eyes wide at the sound of beastial rage emanating from the upstairs loft. One shrugged at his brother and nodded to the stairwell.

"Ahahaha! Oh no. Ha! No no no no no." said the other goblin. "Unhun. No way in a naga's hell am I going up there. Its your turn." He crossed his arms in stern resolve.

With a sigh his brother inched slowly towards the stairwell, shoulders slumped in defeat and uttering prayers to several obscure dieties.

[Malorii]

(( someone needs the deviate fish delight recipe_)

[Beutha]

(( someone needs the deviate fish delight recipe_)

(( Ooo! That would be wonderful. In fact, I am open to receiving any odd recipes folk don't need and want to be rid of. If I have them already I will return them ))

[Amoola]

((Noted! I want to see this keep going! This is a riot. I wonder what happened to the goblin? *chuckles*))

[Beutha]

Her arms laden with the new purchases Beutha walked out onto the Ratchet pier about midway before stopping to set the burden down. She stood up to regard her new treasures; a simple but functional fishing rod, a carton containing a wriggling brown balled mass of worms and some brilliant baubles.

“You’ll never progress your cooking skills much Bea unless you take up fishing. All the best and most creative recipes to challenge you are with fish.” Her cooking coach had told her. Beutha had feared those words ever since she began to experiment in the kitchen. Cooking she liked, fishing not so much so. She had tried in once in a little pond in Orgrimmar and quickly lost interest. That is to say she snapped the silly little bamboo pole she had bought for a silver and tossed the pieces as far as she could after a few failed attempts.

Well this was a wiser, stronger and more confident Beutha today, she had told herself. Maybe it was worth it to try again. Only this time she would be prepared.

She reached into her hip pouch and withdrew a small soft covered book she had bought at a junk shop in the Drag. She opened the cover to the first chapter and began to read;



The Spirituality of Fishing: Revised Edition. By Nate Pagle
Fishing is a spiritual art. There are many arts but few pause to think of fishing as one yet in every sense of the word the skill, keen hand and eye and most importantly the soul is needed to fish just as much as it is in music, painting and sculpture. “Nonsense” some might say, but take a closer look and the truth is plain.
The reality is that fishing is about the closest you can get to physically experiencing poetry. It is a pursuit based on contemplation and solitude that involves an appreciation of the elements. The fisher is a shaman of sorts, working as one with their surroundings and the fish. It is a game of chance, hope, escapism; a step into the murky waters of the unknown. It is the perfect symbiosis of the soul and nature and there is little difference between the angler setting forth on a misty dawn and the poet staring at the blank page. Both are hoping for greatness, but will settle for a brief silvery flash of the transcendental brilliance that lies beneath the surface.
When in the rapture of fishing, one can quiet the mind of all outside drama. A sense of supernatural serenity overcomes the fisher adept in the deep trance of their woven spell of line, bait and water. Practice this meditation and the fish will flow into your pail.


“Hmmph. Alright. I can do that.”

Beutha carefully closed the book and placed it back inside her pouch. She then stooped to take up the rod and separated a single fat worm from the tangled mass. With a suspicious eye she stared at the slimy creature as it writhed and struggled in her pinched fingers for a few moments before taking up the hook and piercing its flesh.

Immediately a gush of green/brown gunk expelled from the worm’s ruptured skin and oozed over her fingers. Beutha made a throaty sound and swallowed back the sour bile she felt rise involuntarily at the back of her throat. With determination she pierced the worm a few more times, stringing it on the hook like some grotesque yule decoration, then held the hook out at arms length to admire her work A glob of worm flesh covered the hook with the ends straining out thin in vain effort to escape its fate. She wiped the gunk on her pants and made ready to cast.

Holding the line loose against the pole she swung her arm back and then arced it forward. Before it reached its apex where she was going to release the line the pole almost tore from her grip as it came to an abrupt stop. This was accompanied simultaneously with a yelp of pain from behind her. Turning Beutha saw that the hook had snagged on the scalp of some human male who had wandered past on his way to the boats. The man reached up frantically towards his long blonde hair grasping wildly at the hook.

Beutha stifled the urge to chuckle and walked towards the man. His eyes went wide in alarm at seeing the orc woman prowling towards him and reached one hand down towards his hip, searching frantically for the cheap mace she saw dangling there. Beutha considered a moment if she should just kill the fellow for spoiling her cast, but with a glance at the ratchet bruisers who were watching the affair unfold she chose to let this one catch go, for now. With an upraised hand she advanced with what she hoped was a calming smile on her face. The fellow either didn’t recognize an orc smile or was just too distressed to care, as the nervous look never left his face. However he did stop flailing about and settled down to allow Beutha to approach. With as delicate a hand as she could muster, (well almost), she extracted the hook from the man’s head.

As soon as he was free he took several steps back, rubbing his head while keeping Beutha in sight.

“I L O V E Y O U” He said. Or at least that is what it sounded like he was trying to say. He then took off at a run for the far end of the pier and the boat dock.

Beutha shrugged and returned to the side of the pier to try another cast, after checking to make sure her worm was still intact. It was, mostly.

She swept her arm back for another cast, pausing to look behind her this time before whipping the rod forward. This time the cast went true and a the line arced out over the waters to land into the surf with a delicate PLOP. She reeled it in slightly and then settled down to watch the tiny red bobber carefully. Taking a breath she thought back to the book and settled her mind to find that spirit.

Ok.. no thoughts. I’m just gonna take it all in. One with tha elements and all that. Yep. I can do this. …….hmmmhmmmhmm.. I’m thinking. No I’m not. No thoughts. Just breathe.. yea. Breathe. In.. and…………out. That cloud looks like Cessily, only with ears. Ha!. Stop it.. I’m watching the bobber. I’m breathing and watching the bobber. Its moving.. yep. I see it.. Breathe…

“AW FEL!” she exclaimed as the bobber went under and after a single jerk appeared again, with the line returning to float loosely on the surface of the water. With a sigh she reeled in the line and checked the hook. Half the worm was gone.

She decided there was enough to try again so she made another cast and settled down to wait.

THIS time no thinking. No breathing. No wait, I have to breathe. Yes, breathing is ok. Necessary in fact. Yep. Breathe…. So is this the spirit of fishing? I don’t feel any different yet……. In fact I’m getting irritated again. NO!.. erm.. no. I can do this.. just let it in. The spirit of the fish….. fish spirits…..spirits…cherry grog….mmmcherry………..
I like pie…

“Hey Toots! Whatcha doin?”

Beutha jumped in her boots at the loud sound right behind her, unfortunately just as another fish decided to take her bait. She watched mournfully as the bobber returned to the surface again. Reeling in the line she shot a poisonous glance at the familiar goblin head of her land lord who was leaning over the box of worm and prodding the mass with his index finger.

“I’m tryin ta fish! What the fel does it look like I’m doing ya…..mmph..” Beutha bit back her comments in an effort to soothe her now fully flashed temper, although she already felt her will wavering.

“Fishing? I guess that’s cool. I never figured you for the fishing type. What makes you want to try it now?” he asked, shifting his attention from the worms to the shiny baubles.

“Cooking. I need ta learn fishing ta get fish. So as I can learn ta cook them.” She said with a measured voice.

“Cooking? Aww. You don’t need to learn to fish for that. I hear there are some interesting new recipes up in some place north of here. Felwood I think its called. Yeah I saw the flyer in the paper. They claim to have some great new cooking secrets up there. You should go check it out.” With a grin he turned and left.

Moments later a school of fish swarmed together in a feeding frenzy at the water near the Ratchet pier as a sudden mass of wriggling worms appeared in the waters like a gift from the fish gods. They ignored the two broken pieces of floating bamboo that had followed the sudden influx of free food.

[Cabriel]

((This is the most entertaining piece I've read on this forum, so far. Well done!!))