Chapter 336: Chapter 302 – Judge not a Book by its Cover

“The trend of Merfolk Cuisine was one that had seen massive changes as the various merfolk tribes engaged in trade more and more actively with the land-dwellers. In the past, our highest culinary delicacies were merely raw flesh, sliced off the freshest of prey to be eaten as it was.

 

These days, we had adopted so many methods of *cooking* from the land-dwellers that dry eateries had started to become a common scene in merfolk cities, while those that lived near the shores often went to the land to find themselves food that stimulated their taste buds more.

 

Naturally, some older hardliners decried these changes as against our nature, and called for a return to the old, traditional ways. They were mostly unheeded. For most of the current merfolks, the stimulation and joy from the sensations of tastes they couldn’t replicate underwater trumps mere tradition by a longshot.” - Gv’orragh Reiss’hk, Merfolk Sociologist, circa 622 FP.

“All right, since you all came to visit this old man, I would be remiss as a host if I don’t at least treat you to something good,” said Anduinus after a few more rounds of drinking - he had brought some more normal drinks for Cal and Kyara later on - as he stood up and walked out of the hut. Cal saw the old merfolk put his mask back on, as he brought out a massive harpoon twice as long as he was tall and dove into the waters gracefully.

 

Out of curiosity, Cal and Kyara peeked over the cliffside he dove in from - the island was sloped, with a cliff on one side and a shallow shoreline on the other - only to spot a larger silhouette in the crystal-clear waters below, as what seemed to be murky mud took the form of great fins on Anduinus’ sides and limbs and propelled him through the water faster than most things Cal had seen before.

 

“Oh, we’re in for a treat all right if ol’ Andy’s going hunting,” said Kino as she caught up to Cal and Kyara by the cliffside, sipping from a mug lined with condensation. The drink Anduinus had later brought was made from some sort of fruit-like thing that supposedly grew underwater, and had a salty-sour taste that was strangely pleasant nevertheless. “The lagoon is where these folks breed the expensive seafood to keep them plentiful for eating, you see. Most anything he caught is bound to be the good stuff.”

 

“Oh? I didn’t notice that they did any ranching down there on the way,” admitted Cal. She had spent the boat trip mostly taking in the underwater scenery but had not spotted anything resembling the underwater ranches she saw in other merfolk cities before.

 

“They don’t exactly ranch them here as much as give the critters free roam of the lagoon, other than the inhabited areas,” said Kino with a shrug of her shoulders. “Something about how they just don’t taste the same unless you let them roam freely.”

 

“These chowhounds actually came close to eating several kinds of the critters to extinction before, believe it or not. At least, until they realized that they had to keep a lid on things before they ran out of the good stuff to eat,” she added. “These days they got strict quotas on how many of the critters are huntable for any period of time, though ol’ Andy’s pretty much an exception anyway.”

 

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In the end, Anduinus was only gone for maybe half an hour or so before he returned from his little hunt, walking up the shore with a large fish - at least a meter long and maybe half as wide - speared on his harpoon. The fish was one of the ugliest things Cal had seen, with a flat, slimy body and a huge maw full of sharp teeth, its eyes set on the topside of its flat form. Anduinus’ harpoon had pierced right between the thing’s eyes and likely killed it instantly.

 

He casually brought the decidedly unappetizing looking critter to the hut, and hung it by the mouth from a hook set on a tripod that he usually used to cook with. Then the old merfolk brought out his large machete and skillfully started to dismantle the fish.

 

The outermost layer of slimy skin was scraped off and discarded, before he slit the fish’s belly open and pulled out its organs with a deft hand. Cal noticed that there was very little meat on the fish, as its body was mostly a sack of skin and bones around its large organs. Even so, Anduinus proceeded to clean the skin and organs, removing every bit of edible matter from the fish until only its large maw and spine remained hanging from the hook.

 

First, he boiled the bones of the fish - after he chopped them up roughly - with some herbs in clean water while he worked on cleaning and chopping up the rest of the offal and meats he harvested. After an hour or so of vigorous boiling, the water had turned into a milky shade, and he had already skimmed the scum off the broth several times.

 

Then he poured the broth into a new pot, filtering the bones and herbs and discarding them. In the new pot, he brought the broth to a boil once more and added in the fish’s oversized liver, sliced into chunks, while he stirred carefully. The liver slowly dissolved in the broth and turned it into a very thick soup with a creamy brown shade and a rich aroma, to which he added the rest of the fish.

 

Thin slices of skin were cut into strips, and mixed with cleaned chunks of intestines and stomach, while what little meat was harvested from the fish was minced and formed into balls as they were all boiled together with some roughly chopped stalks of green onions in the stew. After another quarter hour or so of cooking, Anduinus was done, and served the stew he made to his guests in some handmade clay bowls.

 

Cal was surprised to find that such an ugly thing had produced such a delicious meal, the soup thick and velvety on the tongue, with a rich, earthy flavor characteristic of livers, which formed the base for the stew. The pieces of skin had turned crisp and chewy, mostly there for texture, while the various offal added a dash of bitterness and savoriness to the stew, which was mostly unseasoned other than the herbs and onions used. The balls of minced fish meat turned chewy after being cooked, making the stew a true admixture of disparate textures and mouthfeel.

 

Everyone of them had seconds, and then thirds, and only stopped when the last drop of the stew was gone and all that remained was the empty pot.

 

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