“Now then, we will start by demonstrating how shaska is processed,” Varkas stated, and Tatumai and Shilly Rou got to work.
The two of them added shaska grains and water to a large pot in equal quantities and put it on a strong flame, stirring it once it reached a boil. Apparently, if they just let the shaska sit, it would burn.
“Now we wait for the shaska to absorb the water and for any excess to boil off. It’s fine to use the strongest flame you can maintain in order to shorten this process,” Tatumai—an older man with Sym blood—calmly explained as Shilly Rou took over the stirring. Sweat quickly started forming on her brow. Apparently, she was allowed to not wear a white mask when performing this task.
“Once the shaska has finished absorbing moisture, it will be noticeably sticky and a fair bit heavier than before,” Tatumai continued. “That means the grains are ready for mashing.”
Once enough time had passed, Shilly Rou swapped out the wooden spatula-like utensil that she’d been stirring with for a tool that looked more like a pestle, using it to roughly pound down the contents of the pot. It definitely looked like tough work.
“Remove the pot from the flame after the last of the excess moisture has completely boiled off. If you wish to flavor the shaska directly, this is when you should do so. But for today, our aim is to show all of you the taste of the shaska itself, so we will be leaving it as it is.”
All of the thirty chefs in the audience were watching Shilly Rou work with great curiosity. Among them was Yang, the head chef of the house of Daleim, who leaned over and whispered to me, “I’ve heard that shaska is used like fuwano in Sym, but the way it’s prepared seems to be quite different.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I replied, feeling elated inside. The mellow smell wafting from the pot was incredibly similar to that of freshly cooked rice. Shilly Rou almost looked like she was pounding mochi as she mashed up the shaska.
“Crushing the shaska grains like this increases their stickiness. Once the grains are fully pulped, you should begin kneading the shaska,” Tatumai explained as the sticky shaska started clinging to the pestle in a way that really reminded me of glutenous rice clinging to a mochi mallet. “One person should be sufficient to process this amount, but if you wish to prepare more, it would be best to have multiple people mashing it up. It’s essential to move on to the next step before the shaska cools and solidifies, so make sure to be mindful of how long you’re taking.”
Since the shaska was sitting in a heated pot, it would probably take quite a while for it to cool down. As Shilly Rou continued to mash up the shaska, it was easy to tell that the pulp was getting stickier and stickier over time. When she raised her pestle, a thick line of shaska clung to it without tearing until it had stretched out quite a bit, earning surprised reactions from much of the crowd.
“Its viscosity is incredible. It’s almost like mashed gigo.”
“Can you really use that to make the kinds of things you’d make with fuwano? I’m finding it hard to imagine that, at least right now.”
Shilly Rou didn’t seem to be paying any attention to those whispers, though, as she just kept on silently mashing and kneading the shaska.
Several minutes later, Tatumai declared, “That should be plenty. Now we move on to the next step. Sir Bozl, please bring that over here.”
The object he was referring to looked like some sort of large metallic bowl. Shilly Rou was a sweaty mess at this point, so she accepted a hand towel from Roy, wiped down her face, and picked up a bottle of red mamaria vinegar, which she poured a bit of into the bowl along with a good amount of water.
“The ratio of water to vinegar should be ten to one. You can also use sheel juice rather than vinegar, but here in Genos, the latter is more readily available,” Tatumai explained, stepping forward with a strange device in his hand. It looked like a long, narrow metal box, around thirty centimeters in length with a square open end that was about ten centimeters wide, while the opposite side had countless small holes in it. “By placing the shaska in here, you are able to shape it.”
He then proceeded to fill the inside of the box with gooey shaska before placing a wooden plunger into the wide opening. It was a perfect fit, and when he pushed on it firmly, white strands of shaska started snaking out of the holes on the other end into the liquid-filled bowl.
“Doing this coats the shaska in a film of mamaria vinegar so the strands remain separate rather than sticking together. After a little while, you can wash them with water to remove the taste and smell of the vinegar. They won’t become sticky again when you do.”
I had never heard anything about using acid to reduce the stickiness of starch, so that must have been due to something specific to either the shaska or the mamaria. But if sheel juice could be used as a substitute, then it had to be related to some unique quality of the shaska.
“Hmm. How unusual. Why is it necessary to make it so stringy?” Timalo asked, sounding doubtful.
Tatumai continued working with machinelike precision as he replied, “If shaska cools in a large mass, it becomes tough like wood. You can heat it up to soften it, but then the stickiness will come back. This is the process that the easterners devised in order to make the best possible meals out of shaska, which can be fairly difficult to work with. Though from what I’m told, in Sym they wrap an oil-soaked cloth with holes in it around the shaska, and then squeeze it to force the shaska through the holes to shape the noodles.”
As he spoke, the long strips of shaska continued to flow into the bowl. With precise skill and an expressionless face that was typical of an easterner, Tatumai looked like he had become a shaska-making machine.
“In the Sym grasslands, they place pots of shaska steeped in vinegar water over a flame and add meat, vegetables, and herbs to make soup. The people who live in that area prefer to do things that way because it’s convenient to be able to cook everything together in a single pot. And in the capital of Sym, adding shaska on top of other ingredients after the excess moisture has evaporated is a popular way of serving it.”
Timalo still looked dubious. “It seems to require a great deal more work to prepare than fuwano regardless of which method or recipe you use. Is it truly worth all the effort?”
“I believe the only way for anyone to answer that is to eat some themselves.”
The bowl was soon filled with shaska, so Bozl prepared a second. The contents of the first were then dumped into a wooden strainer and washed clean with water.
“Please go ahead and try this shaska without any sort of additional flavoring.”
Tatumai kept on working as Bozl and Shilly Rou started dishing out the initial portion onto a set of small plates. The watching chefs accepted the plates and began sampling the shaska with looks of great curiosity on their faces. Those of us from the forest’s edge stood back and waited to try it last.