She laughed. Not just laughed, she practically vibrated as I told her what I had planned for the meat from the sloth. Her guffaws echoed in the makeshift courtyard between the buildings as dust began billowing up from where her feet stomped a few times. “Good luck with that,” came out of her almost as one word. She shook her head and began her walk back towards the main home still chuckling to herself.
I watched her leave and kinda felt insulted. The way I looked at it, even if I failed with my dish, I was still planning to make as much of the “Queen’s Cob” as I could, though I may give it a rebranding when I serve it up. I’m hoping I can get the flavor closer to the Mexican street corn I’ve had at the best Taquerias across NYC.
As I took the walk of shame to the shower house, I heard Momma yell, “Lemmin, whatever knocked you upside your head’s got you daft if you think that pot scrubber's gonna get anything worth eatin’ of that overgrown rat.” The laugh and mocking lasted throughout her walk to her house and was barely contained by the slamming screen door behind her.
My mind ignores the noise and instead focuses on the methods I would use for cooking the sloth. The tough flesh that Smeed described means probably treating it like a shank or some stew. Maybe get a good broth going and braise the meat in an oven. I’m positive that would make a good dent in the innate toughness of the meat.
This isn’t a perfect plan, but I’m sure it’ll give me the best chance to get the meat tender. While I’m not sure what seasoning I’ll use, that’s a problem for post-shower Dev. Looking down at my red-strewn body, it’s time for a nice long shower.
After a few steps into the building, the sound of water comes from the back right side of the run of shower stalls. It gives me pause and a few moments pass before a deep voice calls from the side with the running water. “You must be that shy bloke from the forest Lem and Priss was talking ‘bout. Pull up a stream and go at it, mate.” As I take a few steps the voice calls out again, “Scrub those bits n’ bobs.” The guffawing that hit my ears felt like it was for a joke I wasn’t in on.
The awkwardness makes me quicken my step and I try to get through my shower before they’re done. I peel off my clothing and hang it on the provided hooks before stepping into the open shower stall. Grabbing the sweet corn-smelling bar of soap from the ledge on the shower, I fiddle with the runes on the pipes leading up to the shower head. Each glows with the water getting colder when the blue rune is touched and warmer with the red one. It wasn’t the easiest thing to figure out the first time and was hard to get right this time.
It feels amazing. The type of shower that has you closing your eyes and wanting to sing. Maybe that was just me, but it was pretty damn tempting right now. It was my way of grounding myself when things were at their most stressful. The thought has me realizing how I feel right now. Tilting my head towards each shoulder then forward and back has me unconsciously let out a high-pitched moan as a few cracks occur.
"You over there having a bit of a tug, mate?" the guy called over from the other side.
Water fills my mouth and threatens to choke me as I sputter to think up an answer and only come out with, “What? Sorry, uhm, what’s your name?”
“Mate, I’m here to get me nethers clean, not make friends. Damn ashen Travelers.” The voice calls over to me making me grumble as I work to finish up my wash as quickly as I can.
As I reach up to turn and fiddle around with the runes until the water ceases, the paleness of my wound catches my eye and I stop to look at it. It wasn’t looking any more healed, but I’d say maybe there was less paleness to the sick-looking thing. Repeating my earlier mistakes, I prod my arm with a finger and my whole arm stings with the touch. Yes, I’m that dumb.
Grabbing one of the many towels piled up on a couple of shelves on the wall opposite the showers, I wrap it around my waist. I have to grasp at the towel twice to keep it from falling as I look over my now-soiled uniform. Grabbing it into a bundle I toss it into the convenient hamper sitting further down the wall and listen for any sounds of the other showerer. Once satisfied I was alone, I headed into the locker room to grab a clean uniform.
I slowly make my way into the room and I’m glad to see it’s empty. Making my way to the uniform stacks, I grab the pieces I need and start to turn with my pile.
"What you doing there, boyo?" comes from behind me in that same deep voice that makes me jump, dropping my towel. Instantly, it’s back up as I see who the owner of the voice was.
“Priss, what the hell?” Comes out of me in a that I’m not proud of making.
She continues in the same deep voice, “What the hell are you doing with our uniforms? Didn’t Mama already give you your one?” She eyes me with a look that couldn’t have been pulled off any better by someone twice her age. Her arms even get crossed as she leans in towards me with the last bit.
“Well yeah, but I returned those so I figured I could grab a replacement,” I replied trying to tie my towel a little better around my waist.
"You ain’t got nothing I ain’t already seen on a baby clotrat," she continues talking as she walks over to the nearest mirror and sink and looks directly at me using the reflection to do so. "Ya better get to scrubbing then, boyo, 'cause ya ain’t gonna be getting no more."
“Really? That’s some BS.” I say looking between the immaculate uniforms and the hamper where I tossed the dirty clothing into.
"What’s a BS?" Priss says with curiosity as she comes closer to me.
"It’s slang where I come from, but no matter. How’d your voice change like that so easily?" I reply.
“What, this?” She replies with a deep voice emphasis on the ‘this’. She finishes with, “It’s my intimidating voice ability,” in her normal voice.
“Interesting, does it do anything other than sound scary as all hell?” I ask eying the fresh clothes again. “Any chance of getting a second set just this? I did help your brother.”
"If my memory serves me correctly, it was your pan that made that sloth glob shite be thrown at him," she replies with her normal voice but somehow sounds more intimidating this way. "I have every right to seek at least some revenge for that." Her small knife is in her hand one second and backs away the next.
"Prissibel. It wasn’t his fault, we were in the middle of fightin’ and he did what he could," Lemmin said as he entered the room. He continued, "Besides, he’d have his pan in his hand before you landed the first hit." His laughter followed him out of the room and what I presumed were the showers.
I was corrected as his full forced use of the toilets filled the silence between Priss and me. Looking over at her, I grab one of the pairs of pants, and she crosses her arms with a knife gripped in each of her fists. She looks down at my legs, which makes me feel uncomfortable before she says, “I’m pretty sure I could cut a few tendons before you even got your pan out.” One knife is reluctantly put away as the other is flipped into the air and caught by her hand. “Tempt me, travel wanker. I dare ya.” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she walks away from me and swings her head towards the clothes. “Grab it, no one wants to see any of that.”
She doesn’t look back at me as I wait for her to leave before heading over to grab the clothes I need again. Trying to ignore the rest of Lemmin’s sounds I go about getting the clean uniform on. The bathroom noises change to a shower being turned as Lemmin begins whistling some tune as a rough scrubbing sound fills the air.
Once I’m done I get over to the center and begin pushing my hair back with my wet fingertips. While the curls were always hard to tame, the water at least helped some. As I’m finally happy with the results I begin to head out of the room and hit hard into Lemmin coming full force into the room. He doesn’t stop and heads straight to where is locker is.
As I try to continue my walk out he called over, “Mate, I was serious ‘bout what I said to Priss. You have some major skills there. I ain’t no stick waving type but I can tell you got you somethin’ there between that pan and other shite. I’m glad you were there to help. This coulda been lots worse.” He points towards his still gruesome-looking eye.
His first words had me turning my head, but the last compliments stopped me fully as he brought a smile to my face. “I wish I could've done more, to be honest.”
Lemmin pulls off his towel without warning as he continues, “I hate those ashenfell buggers but there ain’t shit to be done now, am I right?” As Lemmin stood stark nude in front of me, I turned away from the mesmerizing ‘swing’ that followed each of his words.
“Yep, you’re right. I think I’m going to see you outside.” I stutter my answer.
"Aye, That reminds me, Ma wants you up at the main house." He doesn’t look back at me as he walks past with everything still out in the air. Averting my eyes again, I focus on a bug perched in one of the corners. It only stands out from its surroundings by the grayish-white outline that covers its carapace. That outline bleeds to black toward its center where a dark red serves as a border between the two halves. Lemmin’s voice calls over, and I look to see his bare ass pointed at me. "Better make it quick, she ain’t one for waiting on someone summoned. Especially when they’re the help. Good luck, mate."
Ignoring Lemmin’s cheeky show I quickly head out the front of the wash house. I’m halfway to what Lemmin called the “main house” before I realize I had left Smeed by the showers. Summoning him to my hand, his tirade began, “That brute used me to scrub himself, Dev. You so thoughtlessly left me by the shower and he used me to scrub everywhere, do you hear me Dev? Everywhere!”
Looking down at Smeed, I say, “Oh buddy, I’m so sorry. What happened? It was only a few minutes.” I replied, slowly spinning him to inspect his surface as I made my way to the main house.
"It was enough, more than enough time for him to not only wash his body with me but also to fondle me for a good while doing that vile squatting you humans are so fond of. He had the audacity to prod my bottom while doing so. Have you had your bottom prodded? I liked it not one bit." Smeed replies in a tirade.
“That’s a personal question, but I’m sorry. You’re back safe in my arms,” I reply as I cradle Smeed using my finger to tickle a pretend chin. “Big ole mean farmboy won't ever get you again.”
"What did you say about my brother?" comes up from behind me and makes me jump a bit further than I'd like to admit. "Wow, I didn't even use my skill for that one," calls up from where she stood."
“Whatever, I just slipped,” I said before turning to cautiously walk up the steps onto the porch. As my hand reaches out for the front door’s handle, my hand freezes by its doorknob. I’m suddenly scared of what the eldest Proppa has in store for me. Before the emotion takes hold, in unison, the Proppa behind me and the Proppa from within the house called out, “Get your arse in already.”
Turning towards the younger of the two voices, I make a gesture towards Priss that I hope carries over from my world. She replies with a knife flourish and says, "Go on, get before I make you."
"No one likes a bully," I say as I grab hold of the doorknob, turn to open, and enter.
"Your ma’s a bully!" is called out towards me by Priss using her Intimidating Voice skill.
“Prissibel Proppa, are you fittin' to get that behind of yours scorched? You know the rules. Must I enforce them?” Mama Proppa said without using any kind of skill but sounding just as imposing as the power her daughter had used moments earlier.
Instantly Priss' hands are behind herself covering what most likely was her rear end. "Sorry, Ma, I was just messin'." She's somehow up the steps and closing the door as she whispers to me, "You're gonna get it."
Shaking my head at the unearned hostility, I turned back to what seemed to be the living room of this home. It was fairly large with several types of seating surrounding the center where a gourd-shaped, blackened metal stove-like thing sat. From it came a dark silver piping that crookedly made its way to the ceiling and probably through the roof. While the weather was spring-like outside, in here there was a coolness that seemed to cling to the air, which the low fire in the stove somewhat helped with.
The seating seemed like it could hold a dozen people between the odd mix of wooden chairs and benches. Taking a prominent spot in the corner was a large rocking chair. It was an impressive thing to behold that was made of a knarled green and brown intertwined wood that looked like it had grown more than been built. The only real sense of artificialness was the extremely glossy coating that covered its surface. Sitting in this piece of art was Mama herself with her arms casually gripping the corn-shaped armrests that lay on each side of the chair.
"So, what happened? I want details," Mama Proppa demands as she leans toward me and gestures at one of the chairs nearest her.
I cautiously sat down, knowing full well I was within her reach feeling extremely self-conscious of that fact. Starting with our walk towards the other side of the field, I spoke on the ambush and the parts each of us played in subduing them as quickly as we could. I ended with the last Alpha fight and the difficulties we had with his projectile attacks. The silence stretched between us as she just stared at me seeming to both weigh out my truths and seemingly calculate my worth.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
A sudden bout of deep coughs takes her over before she spits a red glob into a copper-colored container near the fire. The comical "ping" of her spitting brought an involuntary smile to my face, one I had the presence of mind to conceal with a hand. The clearing of her voice brought my attention back to the woman before me. “Whatever nosh you're planning to make better be the absolute best I’ve eaten, or there may be more talking yet to be had.” Her statement’s meaning was punctuated with a creaking from the corn adjourned armrests.
"Ma'am, my goal is to make up for any of this afternoon's mishaps as best I can. For whatever I can't make up for, I will try to do whatever I can around here." I begin to spew out, feeling bad about the whole situation.
“Weren’t your fault lad. If I went n blamed you, then I’d have to blame Lem for not getting out the ashen way when he saw that shite being shot at em. No boy, it was a nasty situation. While me sonny’s eye may need some fixin’, I’m glad you were able to do what ya did. We can speak more on this later but I may be asking you a bit of a favor in regards to his mending. Won’t be nothing you weren’t already on your way of doing mind yah but it’d be much appreciated if you’d take him with you. Esslem’s the only ashen city near here with the kind of hands to cure him fully.” A pipe is produced from one of the pockets in her long tunic. Grasping at another pocket she produces a bright orange and red damp-looking clump that she promptly stuck into the pipe’s bowl.
"Yes, I’d gladly do anything I could to make up for what happened. The plan was to leave for there tomorrow, I’d be honored to have him. If anything, it’d ensure I get there safely," I offered as she crouched towards the fire to light a bit of stick she had produced from one of her pockets.
She held the stick and sucked on her pipe with a sizzle filling the air as the damp fibers began to dry. As they did I immediately smelled a citrus smell mixed with what I could only call pepper filling the air. Her inhaling seemed to last longer than I have ever held my breath with the smoke expelling from Mama Proppa’s nose and mouth once she released it. She almost looked comical with the dense cloud of smoke that clung to her head.
Any thoughts of comedy were sucked out of the room as she leaned forward gesturing with the long pipe that ended in what looked like the base of a corn cob. “My lad ain’t some hired thug for you to be using as muscle. I don’t need him getting in any more trouble.”
"No, Ma’am." With the way her eyes looked, I corrected myself, "I mean, Ma'am, I wasn't thinking of that. Just that whole safety-in-numbers thing, you know?"
"Sure, sure. Glad you’re amicable with this and all, we can talk more after whatever feast you’re planning. Between that meat from earlier and whatever you made to impress my boy, you may be one of the travelers worth a damn." She stops to inhale another long drag before getting out, "Get to it." Without a word more, she swivels her seat towards the large hearth built into the wall behind her and exhales her smoke towards the fire while humming to herself.
Knowing better than to say anything else, I headed into the room she had gestured to. In it was a wide stove with a chimney behind it that led to the roof, imitating the setup of the central one in the living room. Inspecting the room, I see some cabinets with rough wooden doors and handle pulls. Within one is a mixture of well-used pewter-looking dishes, mugs, and taller pewter glasses. Another held over a dozen small jars that were not labeled, but thankfully, my herbology skill kicked in to help me out.
Bypassing the names I wasn't quite sure of like Birchel, Sindella, Dashwar Gum, and Whindle Mint, I saw names that seemed to be based on herbs I already knew. For these, I sent a request to the system to provide me with descriptions as I opened each jar in turn to get a smell of the herbs and seasonings.
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You see some Sagebloom - a flowering plant whose leaves can be used to add a savory and floral flavor to any dish.
You see some Brayleaf - dried leaves of Brayson Lily, whose product is used for soups and other savory dishes to add body and flavor.
You see some Saffrond Tendrils - used in many dishes that aim to add a herbal flavor with a hint of bitter citrus.
You see some Paprikola - a smoky-flavored product created from the Paprikola vines and added to many marinades and spice-forward dishes.
You see some AshPepper - light-colored pepper found in the area near Esslem and known for its light peppery flavor mixed with additional savory undertones.
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The beginnings of what I could cook were already building in my head as I worked my way through the cabinet. I was happy to see that Sagebloom was close to what I’d expect when smelling some sage, and the same with the Brayleaf being pretty much Bayleaf-like in its subtle scent of herb that didn’t belay any flavors. But when I took some into my mouth and suckled it, I could taste a bit of the heavy savoriness found in the Earthen counterpart and was pleased with the flavor. The Paprikola and Ashpepper were a bit harder to place, as each had a base that tasted familiar but had undertones that threw me off. The Paprikola, in particular, had a mix of what I would call Paprika with an added almost caramel flavor that stuck to your tongue after tasting. With the Ashpepper, it was a bit more like White Pepper, but if you took in air through your nose while tasting it, there was a coffee flavor that could be detected.
Lastly were the Spiral Tendrils which were foreign to me; from their spiral shape with tiny yellow spikes coming out their side to their smell which was citrusy and almost mintlike. Taking one into my mouth I am shocked by the bitterness that invaded my tastebuds. While I’m sure it could help with cooking, it was way too drastic of a flavor for me to try to place any further. Poking at the other ones in the cabinet I decide to stay with the few I had already pulled out as I work through the rest of the lower cabinets in the kitchen.
Amongst a cabinet full of well-used pots and pans was one full of either drying plants or what seemed like root vegetables. I was glad to see some of the lemon kale from earlier as well as some garillions. Reaching in I grab a large sweet potato-sized vegetable that was labeled as Yamato. Sending to Smeed, “Ok, that one seems a little lazy, wouldn’t you say?”
Almost as if coming out of a trance, Smeed replies, “What, oh yes. That one was one of your brother’s dabblings. Pretty sure it was a mix of,” was all he got out as I finished for him.
"Yam and Tomato? Like I said, lazy," I answer, putting a few of the Yamatoes next to me. "You just sounded distant, did I interrupt you?”
“No, I was just testing out one of my abilities. I’m currently not excelling in properly initializing its properties," Smeed said in an almost saddened voice.
"Anything I can help with?" Gathering my chosen vegetables and herbs, I stand back up and place them on the counter beside Smeed. "I'm serious."
"It’s nothing, Dev. Please focus on creating the meal. By the looks of what she said, she’s counting on whatever you're cooking to impress her,” Smeed replies almost distractedly.
"Nope, we’re in this together. You help me enough with all this, I guess I should be returning the favor." The words make me conscious of how few times I look to apply teamwork in my day-to-day life.
"Well, thank you. That is quite nice. I appreciate it,” comes out in an almost flustered voice before Smeed continues, “As for my ability, it is my Main Pan skill. It allows me to change my shape, but currently, I cannot do so. Here’s the skill’s description."
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Main Pan (Passive): Your form can now be changed to any cookware shape that can be up to twice your current weight. The current runic metal material cannot be changed.
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After reading the entry, I take a few moments before trying to be pedantic with the wording. "With it saying your form can be changed, could it mean that someone else has to do it?"
"Why would my skill be triggered by you wielding me, oh bloody hell," Smeed stops. "Fine, try it. This system," Smeed says in a huff.
Picking Smeed up, I smile, “I’m here for you, buddy. What’s wrong with my theory?”
"Other than you probably being correct," to emphasize his words, Smeed becomes about the size of a medium saucepan from what I remember on Earth. The mixture of very natural metal mixed with the modern design was interesting. "As I was saying, other than being correct, I am not pleased that it’s under your control."
"Who says it's under my control?" Trying to spin Smeed in my hand as normal, the awkwardness of his weight throws me off, and I’m barely able to catch him midair. "Anyways, let's try this. Change to a pan."
“I already told you that I’ve tried this.” Smeed replies before his form suddenly changes to his initial pan form. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Can AI be damned?” I ask with a grin. “Now try to get heavier like in your skill description,” I say enthusiastically.
As his weight significantly increases in hand, I strain to keep him aloft and laugh, “I meant it more as an expletive,” Smeed said absentmindedly as his form changed back to a pan without warning in my hand.
“See, I think it’s almost like needing a recipe in some of the games I’ve played. Here, let me give you as many as I can remember to get us started.” Thinking back to my one-room shack I use the items in my small kitchen as a guide to go through the shapes of a baking sheet, and small saucepan, then attempted a wok and deeper larger pot but both seemed to stretch Smeed too thin. I also tried to make him into things like spoons or rolling pins with no luck. I guess when it meant cookware, it was fairly strict with that definition.
"Devin, thank you. This was quite the conundrum," Smeed replies as a blinking kaleidoscope of my kitchen items formed before me. I particularly liked him changing himself into smaller variations of each, only to significantly increase himself to 5 times the original size or create a heavier or odd-shaped base right after.
Smiling, I put him down on the counter and shrugged, “Like I said, nothing you haven’t done for me already. Glad I could help. We can repeat it for anything we think up or find along the way. It helps us both in the end.”
As a reply, he lifts himself off the counter a few inches before falling with a slight clang. “Sorry,” comes out of Smeed as I hear a shocked gasp behind me.
Looking towards the sound, I see Priss standing on a table in one of the corners of the room. “Did that thing just lift off the counter?” She'd look like a scared cat if it weren't for the small knife already in her hand. "You’re hiding something, ain’t cha? You've been sitting there for a good while just staring at that pan. That was even before you picked it up and started changing it into all sorts of wild shapes. What's that class of yours really about?" she asks as her confidence increases with every spoken word. She even steps down from the table, content to stand on a chair instead.
"It’s mostly about cooking and I guess smashing things," I replied before asking in return, "What’s your class?"
“Mama says it’s not classy to share your class with strangers and you’re as strange as they come. Now tell me why you stare into that thing so much,” she says as she gestures with her knife.
Smeed states the obvious, “Don’t tell her, Dev.”
"I’m already ahead of you, buddy," I send to Smeed. Saying aloud to Priss, "Just focusing on what I’m planning to make."
"With that thing flying about, you seem to be some kind of Panomancer than a Runic Chef or whatever ponce you were on about." Her mocking seems to have finally calmed her some.
“Let me just do my thing and you be a judge of what my skills can do?” I say with my best smile.
She puts away her knives away in a flourish that seems more magic trick than actual skill but even without the weapon her look gives me some pause. “But I’ll be watching you.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” with a mock bow I turn back to the counter.
Glad with the collection of ingredients, I began attempting to prep those items needing chopping. The first up was the Yamato which was a bit of a struggle to get past its outer hush that seemed to be the main part of the sweet potato properties that it had taken on. About an inch of deep orange flesh that matched that of the potato surrounded a deep red softer layer of flesh that faded to pink center. Through the pink was a light red gel with seeds suspended in each. Touching the pink flesh, it felt a lot like a softer sweet potato with the smell reminding me of a blend of the two namesakes for the vegetable. Not sure what to do with the vegetable I put it aside and move on to the rest of my ingredients.
As I’m about to start chopping some garillions, I see some vegetables that look like fairly normal carrots. Funny enough, that is exactly what they were labeled as within my herbology skill. Sending to Smeed, I ask, “OK, what’s up with those? Is it some trick and they’re gonna be banana-flavored instead?”
“Carrots are carrots. What’s wrong with that?” Smeed replies almost defensively.
“I don’t know, this seems like another stop of the lazy train,” I sent back to him before grabbing the carrots and beginning to chop them up to add to my dish.
Putting the now-chopped carrots into a pile, I grab the garillion cloves and give them a good mincing, the rhythmic sound of the blade hitting the chopping block fills my ears and I’m glad to have a good knife in my hands again. Once I’m satisfied, I place them into the pile with the carrots. I look at the Yamato again and shake my head before turning to the small elephant in the room.
The large sloth carcass was lying on a table against the far wall, looking like a limp, deflated lawn holiday decoration. While I've been fine up to this point dealing with all the various bits of animals I’ve had to take apart, this just feels different. Maybe it was how large the body was or the fact that the fur was now matted with blood and dust that I now had to get through somehow. Walking up to the animal I grip the knife in my hand and ready myself for the task.
“Mind if I take a go at that?” Priss replies next to me almost making me jump
"Wow, how are you so silent? Well, sure, if you want. Any chance I can watch?" I ask, looking over at her.
Her voice was infused with her skill as it deepened, “Bet ya like to watch ya, filthy bugger.”
"Stop that, Priss, and seriously, I appreciate the help," I say, ignoring her remarks.
Pushing up her sleeves, she pulls a chair over towards the center of the body and steps up onto it. With her hand positioned just below its neck, she looks back with an almost creepy grin as her hand deftly inserts the knife. “Now, I won't be giving you any free lessons, mind you, and I don’t take any barters before you try to offer me some meat or rat tails you've collected, but you’re welcome to watch.” She gives another grin before turning back to the gruesome job.
The sounds from Priss's slicing of the animal, as well as the subsequent squelching as she worked with its innards, had me tempted to cover my ears. But I knew the mocking that would come my way if I even attempted that. Instead, I tried to study her movements. Just like with her quick movements in the fields, Priss's hand moved with speed but care. After telling her I was looking for the shank and breast meat if I could get them, she went to work separating them. Whether it’s through skill or not, I’m impressed with how easily she uses her small knife to make the cuts needed.
Slamming her knife into the table looks up at me with her hands on her hips. “So, will that do?”
"Will they do? Priss, I couldn’t have gotten better slices of meat from a butcher shop on the Lower East Side." Realizing my slip-up, I look over at her perplexed face. "Sorry, just a part of my hometown. No, seriously, thanks. I appreciate it."
She just nods her head before heading back over to her spot in the corner as I stare down at the meat. After a few seconds, I ask Smeed to turn into a larger pan and place all the meat in. Putting it on the board, I go about cutting the breast into 1-2 inch pieces and go about scoring the shank some. Sending to Smeed, I ask, “Hey, what’s the name for salt?”
“Sodium Chloride,” Smeed replies unhelpfully.
"Dude, is that the chemical name? No, is salt just salt here? I want to make sure I have some.” comes out of me as I kneel to the cabinet where I found the herbs. Close to the front, I find two small wooden shakers that my skill highlights as Sel and AshPepper.
Double-fisting the rustic wooden shakers I grin over to Smeed. “Time to work a little kitchen magic.” I tried to ignore Priss’ laughter that came from behind me.