“Merfolk cuisine probably ranks amongst some of the greatest and most varied in the world… assuming one could keep an open mind and was not averse to trying out new things.” - From the diary of Tin’uviel Loedlarin, Elven adventurer and traveler.
After they spent most of the morning and early noon hours in the sea, where they reaped a bounty of crustacean of all sorts - from small crabs no larger than Andromarche’s palm to spiny clawed things that resembled an oversized shrimp almost as large as her forearm - as well as some fish, clams, and a bunch of odd spiky balls that were clearly some kind of sea creature from the way they twitched.
Other than those, some of the orcs had also harvested mounds of slimy-looking seaweed that they then placed atop a net suspended between two of the larger boats. As one, the group of orcs, merfolks, and hybrids got themselves out of the water and into their boats with nimble and practiced movements of people who lived by the sea all their lives. Aideen and Andromarche followed suit, Aideen just as nimbly, while Andromarche with some difficulty.
The return was uneventful, the day being a clear and sunny one, the winds rather cold given that by that time they had entered the early winter months already. The climate of the prairie itself was mostly temperate, with snowfall usually only in the coldest months of winter, if any. Near the coast it was a touch colder, something Andromarche felt in particular, as she was almost naked and still soaked from the dip in the ocean.
“Nice refreshing air today, ain’t it?” asked their guide with a toothy smirk on his face when he noticed Andromarche clutching her hands against her sides and slightly shivering. He and Aideen traded a good laugh with each other before the unliving woman brought out a dry cloak from her storage and passed it on to Andromarche’s shivering form.
For her part, Andromarche ignored the laughter and just thankfully grabbed the warm fabric and covered herself with it in a tight huddle for warmth.
Once they arrived at the beach they found Celia along with many others from the Clan already awaiting them. The various products they harvested were quickly processed, some in curious ways that made Andromarche look on with curiosity. For example, the crabs they harvested, from the small palm-sized ones to others that were easily more than four times as large were gathered, cleaned in water, quickly killed with a jab of the knife, then placed in a large bowl which appeared to be a marinade of some sort.
Andromarche had no idea what the marinade was made from, but she smelled a strong sourness from it, so at a guess she thought it most likely involved juices from the citrus fruits that were commonly grown around the tribe. The strong spicy sensation that stung her nostrils were also easily explained, as while the Greyscales had not practiced as much agriculture as the Greentusks, they still kept fields and orchards where they grew various fruits and spices they loved to use.
Multiple sorts of spicy chili peppers - a spice that Andromarche had mostly seen as imports from the west of the continent - were grown both outside the settlements and on what would constitute the yards of the many hovels and huts. Apparently the locals greatly valued such spices, given the large amounts grown all over, as well as the piles of dried and otherwise preserved ones she saw being used by the Clan’s cooks.
She saw some of the cooks crush the chilies - both fresh and dried - along with some salt and oils in with a mortar and pestle carved out of stone, and ground the mixture until it formed a thick paste with such a strong smell that stung her nose. Then they added a dark and thick paste to the mixture, one that smelled strongly of rotten seafood on Andromarche’s nose. They then ground the paste together into the mixture until they melded as one.
A large stingray - one so wide it was easily wider than two orcs side by side - was dragged onto the shore and swiftly butchered. Andromarche saw how they skillfully gutted the fish and chopped its meat into many palm-sized chunks. The chunks were then pierced through with wooden skewers and set to broil by the fire, skin side facing the flames.
Then the cooks brushed the paste they made on the other side liberally before they flipped the pieces around carefully so as not to cause the brushed-on paste to fall. To Andromarche’s surprise, the strong rotten smell that disturbed her quickly transformed to a savory, mouth-watering one as the fish broiled by the fireside, and when a portion of the fish - the reddish sauce now burned to a brownish-black mixture - was served to her on a wooden plate, she found herself curiously tasting a bite.
Her tongue was almost immediately lit on fire.
At least, it felt like that to her when she chewed that first bite. Under the fiery sensation however, she discovered tender and crumbling flesh, which complemented the strongly sweetish, savory, and spicy sauce paired with it. Despite how she huffed over the heat - both literal and figurative - of the dish, she found herself going for another bite, then another until her plate was cleaned up.
Fortunately the orc next to her then offered her a mug of some sour-smelling murky drink, which Andromarche drank on the spot. The beverage was likely made out of some sort of fermented milk, given its rich and sourish flavor, and it quenched the flames on her tongue and made her sigh audibly in bliss after she drank it down.
Then the crabs that were marinated from earlier were brought out from the bowl and laid out before the diners, the larger ones chopped into halves or quarters. Andromarche saw half of a medium-sized one placed on her platter and was uncertain what to do with the raw crab. She looked beside her to see the orcs literally suck out the crab’s raw flesh from within their shells, a few of them even cracking the shells with their sturdy jaws.
Andromarche ended up shrugging her shoulders and brought the cut surface of the crab to her lips and sucked at the gooey flesh within.
It took her a moment to regain her thoughts after the intense flavors overwhelmed her tongue, and to her dismay, she found herself hankering for more of it.
Avitue
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“Merfolk cuisine probably ranks amongst some of the greatest and most varied in the world… assuming one could keep an open mind and was not averse to trying out new things.” - From the diary of Tin’uviel Loedlarin, Elven adventurer and traveler.
After they spent most of the morning and early noon hours in the sea, where they reaped a bounty of crustacean of all sorts - from small crabs no larger than Andromarche’s palm to spiny clawed things that resembled an oversized shrimp almost as large as her forearm - as well as some fish, clams, and a bunch of odd spiky balls that were clearly some kind of sea creature from the way they twitched.
Other than those, some of the orcs had also harvested mounds of slimy-looking seaweed that they then placed atop a net suspended between two of the larger boats. As one, the group of orcs, merfolks, and hybrids got themselves out of the water and into their boats with nimble and practiced movements of people who lived by the sea all their lives. Aideen and Andromarche followed suit, Aideen just as nimbly, while Andromarche with some difficulty.
The return was uneventful, the day being a clear and sunny one, the winds rather cold given that by that time they had entered the early winter months already. The climate of the prairie itself was mostly temperate, with snowfall usually only in the coldest months of winter, if any. Near the coast it was a touch colder, something Andromarche felt in particular, as she was almost naked and still soaked from the dip in the ocean.
“Nice refreshing air today, ain’t it?” asked their guide with a toothy smirk on his face when he noticed Andromarche clutching her hands against her sides and slightly shivering. He and Aideen traded a good laugh with each other before the unliving woman brought out a dry cloak from her storage and passed it on to Andromarche’s shivering form.
For her part, Andromarche ignored the laughter and just thankfully grabbed the warm fabric and covered herself with it in a tight huddle for warmth.
Once they arrived at the beach they found Celia along with many others from the Clan already awaiting them. The various products they harvested were quickly processed, some in curious ways that made Andromarche look on with curiosity. For example, the crabs they harvested, from the small palm-sized ones to others that were easily more than four times as large were gathered, cleaned in water, quickly killed with a jab of the knife, then placed in a large bowl which appeared to be a marinade of some sort.
Andromarche had no idea what the marinade was made from, but she smelled a strong sourness from it, so at a guess she thought it most likely involved juices from the citrus fruits that were commonly grown around the tribe. The strong spicy sensation that stung her nostrils were also easily explained, as while the Greyscales had not practiced as much agriculture as the Greentusks, they still kept fields and orchards where they grew various fruits and spices they loved to use.
Multiple sorts of spicy chili peppers - a spice that Andromarche had mostly seen as imports from the west of the continent - were grown both outside the settlements and on what would constitute the yards of the many hovels and huts. Apparently the locals greatly valued such spices, given the large amounts grown all over, as well as the piles of dried and otherwise preserved ones she saw being used by the Clan’s cooks.
She saw some of the cooks crush the chilies - both fresh and dried - along with some salt and oils in with a mortar and pestle carved out of stone, and ground the mixture until it formed a thick paste with such a strong smell that stung her nose. Then they added a dark and thick paste to the mixture, one that smelled strongly of rotten seafood on Andromarche’s nose. They then ground the paste together into the mixture until they melded as one.
A large stingray - one so wide it was easily wider than two orcs side by side - was dragged onto the shore and swiftly butchered. Andromarche saw how they skillfully gutted the fish and chopped its meat into many palm-sized chunks. The chunks were then pierced through with wooden skewers and set to broil by the fire, skin side facing the flames.
Then the cooks brushed the paste they made on the other side liberally before they flipped the pieces around carefully so as not to cause the brushed-on paste to fall. To Andromarche’s surprise, the strong rotten smell that disturbed her quickly transformed to a savory, mouth-watering one as the fish broiled by the fireside, and when a portion of the fish - the reddish sauce now burned to a brownish-black mixture - was served to her on a wooden plate, she found herself curiously tasting a bite.
Her tongue was almost immediately lit on fire.
At least, it felt like that to her when she chewed that first bite. Under the fiery sensation however, she discovered tender and crumbling flesh, which complemented the strongly sweetish, savory, and spicy sauce paired with it. Despite how she huffed over the heat - both literal and figurative - of the dish, she found herself going for another bite, then another until her plate was cleaned up.
Fortunately the orc next to her then offered her a mug of some sour-smelling murky drink, which Andromarche drank on the spot. The beverage was likely made out of some sort of fermented milk, given its rich and sourish flavor, and it quenched the flames on her tongue and made her sigh audibly in bliss after she drank it down.
Then the crabs that were marinated from earlier were brought out from the bowl and laid out before the diners, the larger ones chopped into halves or quarters. Andromarche saw half of a medium-sized one placed on her platter and was uncertain what to do with the raw crab. She looked beside her to see the orcs literally suck out the crab’s raw flesh from within their shells, a few of them even cracking the shells with their sturdy jaws.
Andromarche ended up shrugging her shoulders and brought the cut surface of the crab to her lips and sucked at the gooey flesh within.
It took her a moment to regain her thoughts after the intense flavors overwhelmed her tongue, and to her dismay, she found herself hankering for more of it.
Avitue
If you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a rating or review to help it gain more exposure (and help counter the haters), thank you!
Read ahead on my Patreon! For 5$ a month patrons will gain early access of up to 25 chapters ahead, or for 10$ a month, gain early access of up to 55 (10% bonus) chapters ahead!
Or you can subscribe to both my stories and get a 10% discount on the price!
Join the Discord for silly stuff and chat with us!
