User:Artyom.pavlov/Characters/Juniper Churlgo/Juniper's Companion to Venturesome Cookery

Fryplate
Good tidings, dear reader. Today I present you with a delectable and nourishing fare from the Savage Frontier. As I traveled past the village of Mornbryn's Shield several seasons past, a dumpy caravan hand, who's passed the village many-a-times, told me about a local curiosity – the oh-so-creatively called "Shield moss." I had to investigate. Locals recommended a beautifully named eatery called Maid of the Moors, noting that a halfling of my stature would find her belly happily filed with the Maid's generously piled-up dishes. I will talk about some of the foods of note I found at the restaurant (and no, regrettably, no "Shield moss" was served to me that day).

One of Maid's staples, recommended by the eatery's delightful staff, was something called a "Fryplate." A morningfeast of vegetables and eggs. Below, I am reporting an attempt to recreate the dish in my humble burrow. Take a handful of plump tomatoes and slice them lengthwise. For the best result, find the most oblong fruits. I recommend sweet tomatoes from Mistledale. Take your favorite skillet and generously lard it up. However, drizzling it with flavorful olive oil from the Blade Kingdoms brings out grassy notes and adds complexity to the dish. Place your sliced tomatoes, cut-side up, onto the skillet. Sprinkle them with salt, minced garlic, and herbs like parsley, chives, and rosemary. You can purchase most of them from Aurora's Emporium if you are in a pinch or need to feed an entire household. Drizzle more oil over the seasoned tomatoes, turn up the heat and cook covered for about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, throw another skillet on the flame and fill it with bacon (I personally prefer cubbed ham) and a handful of wild mushrooms. Fry it all together on high flames with a sprinkle of salt and pepper, until mushrooms are delicately golden-hued like Lathander 's "holy symbol" at dawn. Not what it's been 10 minutes, uncover the tomatoes and inhale the mouthwatering aroma. Take a utensil, a gnomish fork would do, and press down on tomatoes to flatten them and release the juices. Keep the skillet uncovered and cook until the liquid is almost completely gone and tomato skin starts getting caramelized. Now that you have 2 of 3 parts of the so-called Fryplate, you can start working on the star of the show. Take a handful of black peppercorns and crush them with a pot or a skillet. Asking a barbarian friend to help would be a bad idea, believe me. Toss the crushed peppercorns into a sauce pot, toast it on high flame for a minute or two and add a 1/4th of a tankard filled with your favorite stock. You can make your own or find an inn with an open kitchen window early in the day and scoop some stock while the cooks are distracted. Add a drizzle of brandy. My personal favorite is Sembian brandy, but you can follow your muse. Cook the ingredients together until reduced, then add fresh cream, just a bit to flavor, and thicken it sauce. Taste, season, reduce, and keep warm. (If you are looking to impress easily amused simpleton humans, add brandy first, then tilt the skillet to light it aflame. Us hin are not prone to such faff.)

Prepare yet another skillet; yes, you need many skillets! I do not envy Maid of the Moors' dishwashers! Crack three or four eggs into a bowl, season, mix well with a spoonful of cream, then deposit it onto a buttered-up skillet. On low, start moving the egg mix. You will see cooking soon, so pay attention! As the eggs start to thicken, add the peppercorn and brandy sauce, making sure not to add too much. We need eggs to be gooey, not soupy! Continue cooking the eggs while moving it around with a spatula as you jerk the skillet on the fire back and forth. When the eggs are coagulated and cooked but are still soft and creamy, take off the heat and get ready to assemble the whole Fryplate. Now your tomatoes will be ready. Carefully scoop them out and place them carefully on a serving dish. For a more rustic experience, serve it all right in the skillet! Atop the tomatoes, pile up your cooked bacon and mushrooms. Generously sprinkle them with thinly sliced almonds. Carefully transfer the eggs from one skillet to the serving dish atop the fragrant assembly. Now all you need is to make it pretty and sprinkle it with some sliced almonds, drizzle peppercorn sauce if you have any left, and strategically place fresh herbs and/or chives on the mound. And here you go—the Fryplate from Maid of the Moors of Mornbryn's Shield. Granted, my version took some liberty with the presentation, as the good folk of the Maid piled the fried goodies on a plate for you, but to people from the City of Splendors, or the Forest Kingdom, my plating, I am sure, would appeal better.

Remember to serve some hot flatbreads with your dish. I hope you enjoy this exotic recipe from the fairway banks of the River Surbrin.

"Amarast" for now my friends.

Yours truly, Juniper Churlgo.

Blood sauce and Beer-Battered Fishfry
Today, like every self-respecting halfling, I am craving good ale, good fry, and good spice. So today’s dish is very familiar to anyone traveling the Sword Coast. What is more abundant than fish and fries in the eateries and pubs of Luskan, Baldur’s Gate, and Waterdeep? Well, freshly fried fish. Some get to be seasoned and fried whole to be munched on with spiced ales, while others get dunked and battered and sauced. I’ve passed the City of Splendors many months ago, and what I found peculiar is the sauces they serve with such fried marine grub. This particular meal comes from the famed Yawning Portal. If you’re an adventuring sort, a heroic trill-seeker, or a fortune-finder like my dear brother Porto, you’ve spent many-a-nights at the Portal and had the pleasure of meeting Durnan, the grumpy proprietor of the fine establishment. Its ever-changing menu had battered fish the night of my visit. Nothing special about the fish. Whitefish served with battered zucchinis, but a duo of bickering cooks, Frinli Hinkille and Merin Falle whipped up a batch of what they called blood sauce to be smudged atop the fishfry. My research uncovered that the sauce originated from the sweltering Calimshan where it was prepared with handfuls of hot peppers, but Waterdeep’s version used more commonly available horseradish. So let’s talk about how to make this easy sauce… and the fish too, I suppose. You can use any fish for this fry. Fatty fish goes better with horseradish, but flat and white fish such as cod or snapper is what they used at the Yawning Portal. First thing first: slice the fish and a vegetable of your choice (zucchini, in my case) into somewhat uniform flat slices to help with cooking times. Toss them with salt and pepper and leave them be. What we want is for the salt to draw excess liquid out of the things we are frying. We will dab them dry before battering, so be ready to make a bit of a mess.

While the salt is doing its magic, make ale batter. You want to use a cup of nice thick-bodied bready beer or ale. Mix it with a cup and a handful of flour, egg, salt, pepper, pepper, hot pepper flakes, and powdered garlic, and stir it all together until all clumps are gone. Prepare a plate with flour with a dash of salt and pepper for dusting. When you know your fish and vegetables and well-dried and dabbed, dust them with flour, dip them in batter and throw them into a pre-heated frying oil cauldron. If you are like me, pan-frying is an option, but instead of getting fluffy bits, you will be left with flattened pancake-like pieces. Both fish and zucchinis cook quickly, so keep an eye out and take out once the batter is dark golden and crispy. Let the freshly fried bits rest and drop oil on a wire rack and serve as soon as you can, maybe a minute after you take them out. Serve the blood sauce on the side and sprinkle with crispy fried garlic, onions, or leeks. Now, lets talk about the star of the event – the blood sauce. You can make it ahead of time, and the ladies at the Yawning Portal cooked it in a massive pot that was bigger than a well-fed halfling. You will need tomatoes, preferably from down south, hot peppers from the Vilhon or Maztica, bell peppers, garlic, horseradish, salt, a dash of sugar, and a drizzle of lemon juice. You can remove tomato skin by putting them into boiling water for a minute, but it’s not necessary. For horseradish, you will have to grate or purchase jarred preserves. Crudely chop all the ingredients and place them on medium heat, cover, and cook until all the vegetables are soft and can be mashed. Remember, the of peppers and horseradish reduces as you heat the sauce, so make sure to save some minced and mashed on the side to add at the end when the blood sauce is chilled. When everything is soft, remove the cover, mash, and cook until the liquid evaporates, leaving a thick sauce behind. For me, it took about 2 hours, but my pot was also snack-sized. When the sauce is thick and reduced, take it off the flame and let it chill. When cold, add in seasoning, acid, mashed peppers, and horseradish to taste. Serve the delicious, refreshing blood sauce cold. But one thing you need to remember if you are planning to jar it and preserve it, you need to make sure everything is heated up and sterile before you seal it for the future.

And here we go. Boring old fish fry with a lovely bowl of sauce. Feel free to use different ingredients! I’ve heard some made the blood sauce with carrots and apples to add it sweetness or smoked and red bell peppers from Maztica that are especially mouth-incinerating.

Speaking of Maztica, my dear reader. I have a hearthy recipe for a bean stew from Palul to share with you, as well as flaming-hot mayzcakes. Please remind me if I get distracted.

Another venture into the relaxing world of Torillian cookery is done. I hope you’ve enjoyed our time together. Amarast, as always, Juniper Churlgo

Boar Dumplings
Today's meal takes us to the Arnise Hold, one of the few friendly keeps in the lush Zehoarastria floodplains region of Amn. The small caste and its surrounding buildings are known for their friendliness, and the Hold's guest house has its doors always open to travelers and other guests. It's hard to believe the Arnise Hold was once taken over by monsters, and the lord of the hose was brutally murdered. I say Lady Nalia de'Arnise, the latest Lord of the keep, runs it well into prosperity. Among meals offered by the staff were simple and hearty dishes of game found in abundance around the keep. The wild boar dumplings are the dish we are talking about today. You will need a handful of wild mushrooms, wild boar meat (minced), flour, hot peppers, some stewing tubers, and vegetables, as well as herbs.

Boar is hunted in abundance, and you should not have a problem finding a hunter or a butcher with a freshly minced wild pig. You will need to make a dumpling mix using minced boar, salt, pepper, garlic, and soy sauce. To bind the filling together, use a small handful of starch, like dried potato mash, bread crumbs, or cooked rice, plus a single chicken egg. Roll up your sleeves and mash it all together well with your hands. Set aside. In the meantime, put two pots on the stove; one with clear vegetable stock (or any other stock you have), put in a handful of seasonings, finely diced ginger, several slices of hot peppers, chives, scallions, or leaks. Cook it all together on simmer for at least 30 minutes. In the second pot, cook two handfuls of finely chopped wild mushrooms in butter and stock or water until it's dark. Taste and adjust the seasoning, then cook until reduced to a dark brown thick liquid. Add chopped garlic, carrots, celery, potatoes, and a handful of thyme, parsley, and sage. If you’re feeling especially adventurous, use juniper berries that go well with game! This stew will need to cook for an hour at least until it's thick and creamy – perfect for dipping your dumplings into.

Now let's talk about the dumpling dough. A modern halfling might not have time to make her own dough so find yourself a good baker who would be willing to roll the wrappers out and cut them in uniform shapes. If you do feel so inclined, the dumpling dough I used here only needs flour, egg, cold water, and starch for rolling. Simple but time-consuming. The next step will be a labor-intensive one. Each of the wrappers will need to be filled with the boar mince you set aside earlier. Remember not to use more than a flange-sized scoop of meat. Place it in the center, then wet all the sides of the wrapper with water, using your fingers if you so desire. Bring the sides up, and press them firmly together to glue the dumpling sealed. There are several shapes you could make, but the presentation is not as important as the taste in such rustic dishes. When you’re finished, divide the dumplings into how you want them prepared. For the dumplings you will be serving in soup – place them in the clear soup you made earlier and cook on low heat until ready. Fifteen minutes should be enough. DO NOT BOIL, or the dumplings will fall apart – these wrappers are very delicate. As the main star of the show – melt some wild boar tallow in a skillet, then lay eight dumplings at a time in hot fat to fry them. Each side takes about 2 minutes to brown. The last step is what gives them a crunchy crust. Take a cup of water and dissolve half a tablespoon of flour in it, then pour it into the skillet. Cook covered for five minutes. Then take off the cover and continue cooking until the flour liquid turns into a crust.

Now it's ready. Flip the pan with a plate covering it, and here you have it. Break the crunchy crust and serve! The fried dumplings can be dipped in the mushroom stew you made earlier. Yum! (However, the Arnise Hold used game meat stew, not vegetable and mushroom). On the side, you have a bowl of dumpling soup with some refreshing heat – perfect for the autumn. And a plate piled high with dumplings. They were usually served with fried smoked fish and fried boar belly or bacon, but that is for another day.

I hope you enjoyed this dish as much as I did, my dear friends.

Until next time, Juniper Churlgo.

Bustards
Good tidings, dear friends. I have such a treat to share with you!

Today we are continuing our tour across the limited yet curious menu from the Maid of the Moors of Mornbryn's Shield. Even though the cook continued to shoo me away from the kitchens, I saw enough to put my findings to parchment for you, friends. This so-called “Bustards” platter is made using a specific breed of quail that inhabited the swamps of Evermoors immediately to the northeast of the village. Furthermore, all vegetables and herbs used in this recipe are swamp-growing species of plants found only there. But fear not my adventurous readers, I will attempt to find the best substitution and adapt the concoction so even a “vegetarian” ogre could make it. Let’s start with the bird. A single quail would be enough for a person, and two will make a good meal for a loving couple. I saw the cooks chopping quail heads and feet off but skipping plucking the feathers; instead, the birds were smothered and plastered in the swamp clay of notably grey color. These clay-covered birds were then tossed in a blazing oven until the crust hardened. Then, an impressive culinary feat took place when a large woman, possibly with some troll blood in her veins, cracked the clay shell with a single punch. This was my queue not to get caught trespassing again, but I digress… The clay method is a way to pluck the bird in one go. If you are like me, you have access to birds that have already been prepared to be cooked. Be sure to tip your butcher well, as my mother always used to say. Words to live by. From here, my version of the recipe deviates from the Maid's. I implore you to remember to pepper the outside and inside of the bird. In the cavity, put a handful of swamp herbs to flavor the beast - parsley, peppercorns, ginger, celery, thyme, rosemary, bay, or even fennel could work. Take the twine and tie up the bird’s wings close to the body and legs crossed to seal its filled cavity. Pat the animal dry. Turn a greased pan or skillet to high heat and quickly brown the quail all around until a gently appetizing golden color appears. Now you need to make a mixture of salt and eggwhite with the consistency of wet sand. Save the yolk for later! Plaster the fried bird with the mix as tight as you can and place it on a cooking dish, and roast it in a very hot oven for 20-25 minutes (it usually is much quicker, but the salt crust needs time to harden and seal all the juices). While the birds are being cooked, trim your greenneedles (asparagus) and cabbage. If you are not in the Savage Frontier, you can source your swamp shoots from elven communities as they adore herb-steamed greenneedles. You can also find them in Cormyr or brought from the village of Anga Vled in the Western Heartlands. Throw greenneedle trimmings and cabbage core into a pot of water or stock you’ve prepared ahead of time or “borrowed” from an inn. Be generous with the stock-making. Feel free to add garlic, ginger, other vegetables, browncap stems, or leftover trimmings you have. Cook it all together on medium flame. Make sure it is not in a rolling boil, or you’ll end up with a murky stock. Thirty minutes later, strain the stock and toss the cooking vegetables. Now it’s a good time to take out your birds and let the crust cook before handling. Boil the strained stock, reducing it to focus its flavor. In a separate pan, brown greenneedle stalks and shredded cabbage. You can use beef tallow, but I prefer sticking to poultry flavors, unlike what cooks at the Maid do. Now pat and drain fat from the cooked vegetables with paper or cloth. Use the same skillet (you might want to add a bit more fat and melt it), season with salt and pepper, add flour to make a sand-like thickener, and cook the taste of flour out until it turns golden. Now you need to be careful; control the heat of the saucepan by taking off and returning it to head as you slowly ladle in some of the stock and mix it well with the thickener. Do not forget to taste! TASTE! TASTE! Slowly start beating the egg yolks you had from earlier into the concoction. Mix vigorously, and make sure you don’t make scrambled eggs instead of sauce. Continue adding the stock in until the sauce is a pale color and silky smooth.

Now that the bird is cool, take out your best mace, a mallet, or a goliath friend, and crack the salt shell open. Dust the bird off leftover salt and put it in the quail into the stock. Add greenneedle and whatever else you are serving and heat the dish through, keep the bird in the liquid in a low-heat oven if you need to keep it warm for later serving. Now, as to how to serve the dish. Take the quail out of the pot and place it into a tall but flat-bottomed serving dish. Pour the stock about halfway up the dish. Surround the soup with cooked swamp greenneedles and cabbage, and pour the silky gravy atop the dead beast. And sprinkle chopped herbs on it. And there it is, my version of “Bustards” from Mornbryn's Shield.

Alternatively, you can slowly cook the bird in the soup or make a sauce first and cook the meat in its silky goodness. However, that dish would be a bit lacking in presentation but still delicious. And as always, taste everything every step of the way and balance the flavor with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of lemon juice.

And here we are, friends. I will need to dig through my notes and see what other dishes of note there were in the village of Mornbryn's Shield. But we might take a trip to the hot and humid Vilhon Reach for a popular sweet dish.

As always, amarast, and until we meet again. Yours truly, Juniper Churlgo