The aromas of the delicacies were almost visible. Kuvarakh's attempt to shield his nose with a smear of mint only added to the torture as a ram-glazed ham seemed to tease the mint into a garnish of culinary lust. All the memories of being alive were on a constant replay as flavors taunted him, sparked by each one. Sparked, seasoned, roasted, braised, basted...It was maddening!
What was he to do? There was one time he had gone to dinner with Wanda and a client from the shop, but that was just an ale and sausage break, and the word "compare" was a travesty of inefficiency. He was not sure he could stand it much longer, but he could NOT ruin Wanda's day off, her big day to splurge. Gods knew she got so very few of those. What was worse, he could see that it would probably be at least twenty chimes before the waitress took their order.
Wnada was, of course, animated in her indecision.
"Ooh, Ku, what shall I have?" With every delicacy she rattled off, Kuvarakh wanted to go shove his head in a sewer to counter the effects of the master chef at work. He looked up again, at Wanda, and could see a hint of empathy.
"This is really difficult for you isn't it. Oh, Ku, I'm so sorry, Do you think you can stand this? I didn't really think about how you would feel. Since you can't eat, I guess I just assumed you had no sense of smell.""Oh, I can eat, physically...It just won't digest, so eating is like poison, ultimately. Say in a couple of days, the food turns bad in my stomach and starts all sorts of problems. I suppose if I could just..." he stopped, not wanting to broach such an inappropriate topic of dinner conversation.
Wanda, though, looked thoughtful.
"Well, could you...? I mean, it wouldn't have to be right here, right now. I mean you've said you can drink water, that it's more like plant osmosis, absorbing the moisture. Does your...you know, gag reflex work? I mean I'd really like to share this meal with you. This is so special." Kuvarakh started to laugh. There was something so disgusting about it, that it was funny. Sitting down to dinner with the woman he loved, both of them knowing that within a day or two, he was going to have to go puke his guts out. Bring a gallon of water, guzzle a bunch and do it again...and again...and again...who
knew how many times?...
...And who cares?... "Yes...By Myri's Muzzle, I suppose I could!" He set aside the exact details of
that for now and began to do something he hadn't done in an hundred years, Thinking about what he wanted to eat. An idea began to grow. It was from an old memory, a childhood story that had stuck with him. A story of a simple chef that had found himself in a jam because he had to cook in place of the King's chef without anyone knowing. And the King had ordered something so bizarre that it had never been successfully prepared before. Fortunately, this also meant that the king didn't have any idea what to expect, so the chef just made a special dish that his grandmother used to make, and the king hailed it as
'The best thing he'd ever tasted' and the two friends lived in a manor house for the rest of their lives.
Sure it was just a kid's story, but he wondered now about the recipe. If anyone could do it, it would be Artur. The waitress finally got to them and Kuvarakh, realizing that it would also be in keeping with the 'brunch' motif of the moment, cleared his throat...
"I would like a Kanvi Squid feathered egg omelet. The feathering to be done with clove-dusted Cyphrus sun-wheat flour and pulverized Eyktolian Vesper peas. I'd like the fillings to alternate between shredded breast of lowland Talderan goose and slivered scallions in one layer, and shaved, garlic-marinated Merata Root with a generous sprinkling of grated Okomo brick cheese for the other. All set on a Kenashi rice pilaf with a 'Pico-de-Falyndar' herbal spice cream moat."He finished his request with the time-honored gesture of kissing his fingertips.