Celebration of the New Home with Food [4 Thory 4261]
Thery:"Sythyry, I hereby declare that you are obligated to fall madly in love with Ghirbis Vlaan."
Me:"From whence comes this new obligation? Her cooking, at least, does not inspire it."
Thery:"La, it is no new obligation!"
Me:"It is, at least, no obligation that I ever knew about before."
Thery:"Even that is not true. For you have said it yourself, that you fall in madly love with Orren again and again."
Me:"That is certainly true! However..."
Thery:"However? What sort of 'However' can you possibly be saying, Sythyry?"
Me:"Ghirbis is a Rassimel. The black rings around her eyes very much like your own, the fluffy ringed tail very much like your own, the tiny claws very much like your own, the fur in colors that are not brown very much like your own, the accent very much like your own -- these are all clues which one might notice and from them conclude that she is, in fact, no Orren, but a Rassimel, very much like yourself."
Thery:"This evidence is evident, and it might fool the naive and shallow of thought. However, there is evidence spread before us which I am certain takes precedence." She waved her hand at the table of foods which Ghirbis had cooked for everyone she had invited to the Celebration of the New Home with Food. "This cannot be the work of a Rassimel. Nobody but an Orren could get this devoted to beans and noodles all of a sudden. If she were truly Rassimel, she would have eaten nothing else for a year."
Indeed, Ghirbis had cooked a remarkable feast for us, and Thery was right to remark upon it. It consisted of:
- quissitica beans simmered in a salty anchovy sauce, in vast tremendous amounts. The beans had disintegrated somewhat, leaving the dish warm, salty, and pasty.
- ving beans and broken-up vermicelli, in a salty broth seasoned with shrimp, in vast extravagant quantity. The vermicelli had adsorbed most of the broth, leaving it thick, salty, and pasty.
- Crumbled thick noodles and diced bean curd, in a salty broth seasoned with dried oysters, in huge tremendous volumes. The starch of the noodles had thickened the broth, leaving it warm, salty, and thick.
- Tortellini stuffed with dried fish, in a salty sauce made from seaweed powder and fermented quissitica beans, in extravagant vast heaps. The tortellini and beans had thickened the sauce, leaving it thick, salty, and warm.
- A two-bean soup, of ving beans and small blue beans, adorned with tiny egg noodles, in a salty broth made from seaweed powder and -- alarmingly -- onion. The vings and small-blues had thickened the broth, leaving it salty, thick, and salty.
Me:"Ah ... slootly! An undeniable point. I shall fall in love with Ghirbis straightaways."
Which got me an exceedingly dirty look from Esory, who was perched on the counter. She had been glowering at a plate of beans, noodles, beans, noodles, noodles, beans, and noodles balanced on her left knee. Since the dirty look at me was entirely undeserved, the Law of Universal Fairness came into play (which it does every three centuries without fail) and she dropped her plate on her foot.
Ghirbis:"Oh, don't worry about that a bit, Esory. We've got plenty!"
Which, indeed, we did have. I daresay we'll be eating the leftover beans, noodles, beans, noodles, beans, noodles, beans, beans, and noodles until the next time the Law of Universal Fairness comes into play.