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. 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.

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