“Karen, what are you doing just staring off into space?” asked Wendel. “We can head downstairs to the dining room if you’re hungry.”
“Yes, I am feeling a bit peckish. I think I’ll do just that.”
Everybody was curious as to what would be served, and they followed me to the dining room, where our cook, Rio, met us with a huge grin.
“Good morning, Lady Karen. Come in, please, take a seat. There’s enough for everybody, so you can all partake of the wonders sent to us by none other than Lord Bahre!”
And let me tell you—for the moments during which that meal was served, I was able to float away on waves of bliss and forget all else. Everything else—and I mean everything—came in a distant second. That included everybody happy for my return to consciousness. Emil sat by my side, poking absently at my black bird friend, while Wendel held Blacky back from pouncing on it.
It was admittedly odd to be served rice in soup bowls, but that’s exactly what was served up. Stewed rice porridge. And better yet, the rice was polished, a fact that was evident in how beautifully white it gleamed. When I dug in with my spoon, I found it to be of a delightfully soft consistency.
“It’s called rice,” explained Rio. “Nothing in the way of strong flavors or aromas, and all the easier to consume because of it.”
Yes!
It was rice!
Made into porridge!
And I’m not talking about the bread porridges made by soaking bread into simmering milk, this was rice porridge with actual, honest-to-goodness white rice. I had long dreamed of the day I might one day finally encounter rice, and I even would have been satisfied with a simple, unpolished brown rice. The fact that I was eating white rice was, to be blunt, rather astonishing.
I sighed contentedly. So many times I had eaten the intense flavors of the cuisine in this world and longed for white rice.
Oh dear, keep it together, Karen. Hold back the tears.
“I never thought I’d ever work with rice again!” exclaimed Rio. “I added a dash of salt to the porridge, but just a dash. I’ve also supplied some pickled vegetables on small plates, which you can eat to add a little more flavor.”
“Ulp,” I blurted out, unable to control myself.
“Oh, I... Uh, if you don’t like it, we can always have the usual prepared.”
“No! No, that won’t be necessary, Martina.”
I was thankful to her, because I knew now that she’d prepared the usual bread porridge just on the off chance that I didn’t enjoy the rice Rio served. But my “ulp” hadn’t at all been one of fear or trepidation—rather it was a slight crack in the internal dam that was holding back my tears of joy.
Thank you, rice! Thank you, Gerhard! Thank you, foreign rice polishing techniques!
And thank you, Rio! I’m so glad we hired you.
I was joined by Wendel, Emil, and Elena, all of whom were curious about the new foodstuff. Their reactions to the rice porridge, however, were nothing to write home about.
“Did you say that this is a staple overseas...?” asked Wendel.
He was taking to his bowl like a researcher or scholar might, examining it as he went.
“I added quite a bit more water today to make it easier to eat, but ordinarily it has a thicker consistency and a stronger sweetness,” replied the cook.
“But even then, every grain is so thin... Doesn’t that make it hard to eat? And on that note, how do you even know how to cook foreign ingredients? You seemed to know what rice was already, and it’s been like that with other ingredients in the past.”
“Well, you know how it is, young master,” replied Rio. “You travel the world, and you learn as you go. I’m able to put all my experience on display here because you’re all happy to let me cook as I like. And just recently I learned how to arrange things palace style!”
“I don’t hate it,” commented Emil. “There’s a slight sweetness to it when you bite down. It’s not like bread, though...”
My younger brother seemed to find the flavor profile lacking, as did Elena, who sighed as she silently finished her bowl. Me? I closed my eyes with each spoonful and drifted away on the flavor flowing around in my mouth and sliding down my throat. It was the very flavor I had been dreaming of.
It was like my brain went numb when it met with the gentle sweetness unique to rice. The light touch of salt only further enhanced the delicious flavor of the rice, and with each spoonful, I felt myself warming from the very core of my being. It was like waves of admiration and delight washing over my person.
“The water I used for the rice has been filtered a number of times,” said Rio. “It’s not easy getting it in a good place to play nicely with the rice, but I really think that’s how you bring out the more subtle flavor of it.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Yes. Yes. Oh, yes. It’s just delicious. So very, very delicious.”
The bliss reverberated through me. Nobody could understand why such a simple meal was having such an effect on me, but I didn’t care in the slightest. Rio’s masterful hand had prepared a dish that melted my heart.
“Rio, I can prepare the necessary contacts, so would you mind stocking this and preparing it on a regular basis?”
“Not at all. But just rice? I recommend arranging for condiments too.”
“If it’s something that goes well with rice, then I want it. All of it.”
“There’s a lot, from what I’ve gathered. It’s a pretty wide range of flavors.”
“I’ll handle the cost; you handle making sure we have enough of it all. But put a priority on the brownish-black salty liquid. The one made from beans.”
“Whateley, Karen’s weird obsession is starting again,” said Wendel.