This was going extremely well! Chef usually expected something odd to happen whenever he set out with one of these plans, but apparently not this time. Just a good meal given to some people who’ve never had something so delicious before.

But he had to admit, the crying was a little creepy. He wished less of them would do that.

Mirri and the father were approaching at this point, and most everyone else that was willing to eat a stranger’s food had done so. Now came the hard part. He moved the cauldron off the fire and set up the pan instead. He didn’t have any oil on him, but the master chef had mentioned making it from animal fat before.

Worth a try at least.

He pulled out some of the fattiest cuts from the bears which he had saved in the sack as well, throwing them into the pan. Magically stirring the fat to maximize the oil spread, he began to sprinkle in just a bit of flour. Then he summoned just a tiny bit of honey for sweetening.

As time went on, he began to appreciate the Stir spell more and more. It seemed like a joke at first, because of course he could just do it himself, but the magic seemed to do more than it implied. Obviously it stirred, but it also seemed to ensure a perfect spread and mixing which was very handy.

Also look, no hands!

Chef crossed his arms as the dish appeared to cook itself. He had done the same thing with the cauldron, but it appeared that these people hadn’t really noticed before. That or doing it with a pan was much more demonstrative. Didn’t matter either way, Chef was just enjoying the process of making good food.

Once his mixture was a nice golden brown, he grabbed the best cuts of meat from his salt sack and threw them on. The sizzling sound and smell immediately filled the town square, causing mouths to water. Mirri and the father had approached a while ago but had been speechless at the sight of cooking magic.

That or they were simply waiting to see and score the result. Chef began to sweat slightly, truly this would be his first real test as a cook. If this meal turned out poorly, could he even continue to call himself Chef? If not, he’d just be Goblin previously known as Goblin Chef.

How am I supposed to pretend to be human if my name is Goblin?!

Chef nervously pulled the first two cuts out of the pan, handing them to Mirri and the father while preparing himself for the next batch. But they didn’t take them. The father just looked at Chef sternly for a while which made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.

What did I do? Is this some unspoken rule in human society that all humans know and I don’t? Is there a food giving ritual I didn’t know about?

Of course there was, but Chef had never really paid attention to how other humans ate. In other words, he’d never noticed that plates and bowls were commonly used rather than, you know, just picking up a steaming piece of meat with your bare hands. No one ever claimed that Chef was terribly observant.

Eventually, Mirri reached out for the meat which seemed to pull the father out of his trance.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Stay here and don’t grab that or anything else.”

An order was given and then the father was off. An incredibly awkward minute passed by as people began to debate just taking the meat for themselves. After all, most of the people here had some of the sticky meat. It was only natural that they’d want more given how high quality it was. And given how powerful the handsome man’s reaction had been at the time, none of them had felt inclined to leave for plates rather than just scarfing down whatever was being handed out. At least, none that had ended up getting any.

Just as a brave soul began to make their way forward, the father returned holding ceramic circles with forks and knives on top. Handing a plate to Mirri, he walked up to Chef with his plate held out.

“Ah. Right, yes. I forget that heat bothers most.”

Chef decided to tell a truth in order to skirt around the fact that he had no idea what they were doing. Normally, goblins would cook their food and drink out of the ladle or pot directly. For meat they’d just pick it up and endure the burns.

That was how you got stronger after all. At least that’s what the older goblins said to trick the younger ones into eating first. Oh, how they screamed, Chef reminisced with a smile.

And now Chef could just ignore how hot his food was for the most part. He figured that his resistance to kitchen heat would be more acceptable given his apparent class than it would be to admit he actually didn’t know what those circles were called.

Pretending to be human is hard.

The father and Mirri both cut up the meat with their knives and took a bite. Their reactions were more subdued than the others’ had been, but they still began to cry as they shoveled food into their mouths. Chef just went back to the cauldron to make another big batch of sticky meat, saving the rest of his flour for himself now that he’d proven his value to these people.

“This is incredible. How did you make it?”

Chef nodded along with the father of Mirri as he continued to cook up more bear.

“Sticky gold, flour, fat oil, salt, meat.”

The man looked at him, transparently puzzled at the brilliant cook before him. It seemed that Chef had overestimated the man; perhaps he could destroy and eat this whole village after all. Well, after he got a bunch of flour at least.

“Sticky gold?”

Chef nodded and summoned up some of the substance into the pan he was no longer using, handing it to the questioning father. The man just used his fork to grab some, blew on it, and then tasted it. He perked up immediately.

“You make honey?”

So that’s what it was called. Chef much preferred the name sticky gold. Besides, sticky meat was a much more catching name than something stupid like “honey bear.” Ridiculous human names.

He nodded in response as he used his tried-and-true method to cook the last of the bear for his faithful minions. He was quite looking forward to the mill being finished, not that he really understood what it was. What he did know was that a finished mill meant more flour, and what else really mattered?

Nothing, obviously.

“That would work. We could trade for your honey, aside from the flour I mean since we don’t have any more. But if you could make that or anything else we could trade with you for it. What do you say?”

Chef could see the excitement in the man’s eyes which could only mean one thing: Chef had him. So long as they could give it, he’d be able to demand it. And Chef had a very active imagination, allowing him to devise some truly one-sided deals. Of course, it couldn’t be too one sided though. He’d have to come up with something that would help him long term, especially since making the honey was so exhausting for him.

“Honey making is hard. One empty jug for one jug of honey.”

“Done. We’ll take as much as you’ll give.”

Oops, that had been a bit too eager. He could have certainly asked for more. Well he could always raise the price later.

“I give two for two now. Consider given more in future.”

The man nodded as he ran back towards his home. Chef could hear him talking under his breath.

“Wait ‘til Larese hears about this!”

Of course, the clearing wasn’t quiet either. But as steam rose from his cauldron, Chef knew one sure fire way to shut them up.

“Who wants more?”

The crowd screamed.