Chapter Text
Glace Noir: A Compendium of Thedosian Cuisine
by Chef Morean Pieter Black
2nd Edition
Edited by Varric Tethras
Forwards by Chef Augusto Sallada and Madame Vivienne de Fer
Preface by Varric Tethras
Published on the 9th, Firstfall, 9:45 Dragon
Originally publiched on the 7th, Bloomingtide, 9:39 Dragon
by Maison d'édition de Dumas, Cumberland, Nevarra
Forward
by Chef Augusto Sallada
The year was 8:94 Blessed. Very early on a monday morning, there was a quiet but desperate knock upon the door of my restaurant, La Petite Fille. In those days, we had a large wooden door on the back of the kitchen, which always resounded with a loud thunk anytime someone rapped upon it. In more recent years, we have since replaced it with an elegant mahogany door, which now requires a large brass knocker for us to hear the knocks of would-be visitors. The sun had barely rose, and I was in the middle of peeling a large bag of carrots, that had just arrived the night before. Upon the prep table, my sous chef was deboning a large pile of rabbits, and we were getting ready to start work one a dish that would become a cornerstone of my restaurant: Lapin des Verts.
I opened the wooden door, my mind wondering what kind of visitor would be calling at such an early hour. My eyes were met with a small fragile boy, his knuckles bloody, and his face smeared with dirt and blood. There was a large, fresh cut above his eye, and his nose looked like it had been recently broken. As my mind raced for an answer of what to do with this injured pre-teen upon my door, a strong but slight voice escaped his mouth.
"Please, sir. Can I have a job?"
I asked him what his name was.
"Morean, sir. But my father calls me Pieter."
I told him that I had no openings in my kitchen for a young boy. He replied that he would do any job. When I replied that I didn't currently have the money to hire anyone, he calmly stated that he would work for free. I asked him why he wanted to work so bad. He explained that his father thought it was important to have a work ethic. To this day, I believe that he simply wanted shelter from whatever had bloodied him - even if it meant working his knuckles to the bone for little to no pay.
I put him to work peeling carrots. He cut his fingers three times, but refused to quit. By the end of the day, four fingers were bandaged, and half of the carrots were unusable - but he had done the job with no complaints. He asked what time he could return tomorrow. I said 8 o'clock in the morning.
The next morning, he was waiting at the door when I arrived at 5.
"Why are you here so early, boy?"
"I wish to cook, sir."
I wish to cook, sir. It was his mantra for the next six years - no matter what I threw at him. If I had him peel potatoes for seven days straight, down to the point where he had scraped the last of the skin off of his knuckles, he would still return the next morning with the same reply: "I wish to cook, sir."
I came to find out that the young boy and I had similar backgrounds. Like myself, he was born in Antiva, and came to Orlais with his father when he was very young. Like me, he lost his mother when he was a young child. And like me, his father was a strict task-master who demanded that Morean never do anything without giving one-hundred percent.
His no-nonsense attitude and fiery temper were apparent from the start. My sous chef, Claudio, once scolded him for 'burning' the rabbit (to this day, Morean insist's that my sous chef merely didn't know how to sear properly). When Claudio included a comment in his rant about Morean being a "half-breed," the young boy responded by hitting him in the face with a hot frying pan.
By the time he was 15, I had officially employed him, and by 17 he was the second to my sous chef. When he was 18, he expressed his desire to leave - to learn and experience the world - as I had done at his age. His mantra had changed. No longer was his reason, I wish to cook. Instead, when I asked his reasoning, he promptly replied, "I wish to learn, sir."
He returned 4 years later, possessing a breadth of knowledge that rivaled my own. He presented nearly two dozen recipes to me, all of which came from cuisines that I had only heard about. He then asked for a loan, saying that he wished to open a restaurant as I had done. I replied that if he worked for me for another 3 years, I would loan him the amount he asked. He agreed without complaint or delay.
I must, of course, confess that my reasoning for this was selfish. Morean had left my restaurant as a protegee, and had returned as a chef. Just as he had wanted to learn from me, I now wished to learn from him. I shamefully admit that I stole a few of his recipes for my now famous cookbook: Le Guide Culinaire. Morean responded by writing me a letter stating that I had done it wrong, and that he wished for me to stop by so that he could show me the correct way. Morean is not, and never was, one to mince words.
In 9:09 Dragon, Morean succeeded in opening his first restaurant, Ludovico Sahl'in, with Pierre Montclair, a business partner of mine. By 9:13, he was already making waves - becoming both infamous and famous for his masterful grasp of the culinary arts, and his fiery temper. In 9:16, he famously kicked Emperor Florian out of his restaurant when he asked for salt. From 9:16 until 9:19, Morean spent time in prison for his "gross offence to the crown," until he was pardoned by Empress Celene in 9:19. During this time, Ludovico Sahl'in went out of business without Morean's tight grip on the helm.
In 9:20, he opened up Roi de Canard (a now infamous play on words, and a very obvious jab at the now deceased florian. As more astute readers might realize, canard is only a few letters away from connard). Serving the same world class as his previous Ludovico Sahl'in, it quickly gained a similar reputation and following. In 9:23, I visited his restaurant and had his now famous Coniglio e Finocchio. It was served with a masterful fennel and mushroom reduction that I have since not been able to replicate. It was then that I realized that Morean had truly become a chef in his own right, even if he still refused to lose his famous fiery temper and lack of tact.
Morean is now famous for including different menu items from different cultures, each listed in the native language of the culture they come from. His waitstaff are expertly trained to explain every single dish, down to the tiniest detail. When he was with me, I instilled in him a passion for fresh ingredients, sourced locally - and he has followed this. Everything he cannot find locally, he grows himself. Everything else he spares no expense in paying for the finest magical preservation methods to ensure that even ingredients that come from as far away as Par Vollen are as fresh as the day they were harvested.
Unlike many of his contemporaries, however, Morean does not specialize in noble food. Instead, he specialized in peasant food - elevating simple dishes to levels that even the nobility must take notice. Two years ago, he opened his third restaurant, Tavolo - a restaurant dedicated to serving cheap food to any who are available. The restaurant features only one single large table, and noble and peasant alike must all sit together if they wish to enjoy a meal there.
With this cookbook, Morean endeavors to bring his recipes and knowledge of Thedosian Cuisine to the tables of all of us - peasant, noble and everyone in-between. After all, as he may be fond of saying: Food is a universal language, meant to be spoken and heard by all.