Evening, 18 Hamis, 2720
The Ibutation House, Dzum
Lively, Aurelie called it. Aremu could have grinned, for a moment; lively, he wanted to say. Just wait until we see Western Port – or Laus Oma – and even they’re nothing, next to Thul Ka. He swallowed it, instead. In his mind the words sounded teasing and kind; he had an awful feeling, thinking of Aurelie walking as close to him as she could in the midst of the crowd, that they would emerge cruel, when that was the last thing he wanted.
He didn’t know much of Brunnhold; surely the kitchens there were busy, Aremu thought. Every kitchen he’d ever been in was, though they weren’t many. He imagined, too, the house she’d described, big and empty and lonely. He thought of her, too, dwarfed by all the humans; even he was, though Aremu knew he could hold his own amongst the field hands – he did, often enough, in the midst of the harvest – and that gave him a certain confidence. He hoped she hadn’t felt afraid; he didn’t think so. For all she’d clung close to him, he’d seen her smile, once or twice, looking around.
Easier, Aurelie said. Easier than…? Aremu wanted to ask that, too. Easier than the galdori with their fields? Easier than Ahura…? Easier than the ship? He didn’t ask, though he wanted to, very badly, but nodded instead, and smiled at her, encouragingly, all the same.
They walked in silence for a little while. “Oh, uh,” Aremu shifted the basket on his arm; he held it on his right, propped carefully. His left dug through it. “It’s a type of whitefish from the Tincta Basta. The villagers who don’t work in Laus Oma or on the plantations fish, mostly; a man can feed his family that way, and sell extra himself or to another merchant to buy the rest.” He grinned at Aurelie.
“I like this fish a lot,” Aremu went on, glancing down at it. That started a brief conversation about the sorts of fish available here; Aremu told Aurelie about the small bite-sized fish which one fried and ate, and the larger sorts available too, and about the clams and mussels that were dug up from the bottom of the sea.
“On some of the other islands and on the other side of Dzum, they farm the shellfish,” Aremu found himself explaining to Aurelie’s wide eyes. “They’ve sorted out the type of, uh, environments where they grow well, and they make… ah… like a garden, in the sea, I suppose, which encourages them to grow.”
In time they passed back through the edges of the gate. The sun was sinking down over the horizon, spilling brilliant color through the sky as they made their way back up to the house on the cliffside. Aremu found himself watching Aurelie as much as the sunset; he’d seen plenty of them, but there was something pleasant about her small face bathed in the pink golden light, her eyes wide and a happy little smile on her face.
Inside, Aremu set to work. He chopped up the onion, first, dicing it into small pieces.
He went to the pantry, then, and emerged with rice; he added some oil to the stove, and dropped in about a quarter of the onion, stirring it about. To that he added rice, threads of saffron from a small container, a few fragrant dried leaves, and a scattering of cashew nuts and dried raisins from the pantry. As it came to a boil, he draped a cloth over the top, covered it, and left it to cook.
Then Aremu turned his attention to the cabbage, carrots, and potato next; he peeled the potato with the scrape of a knife, his right wrist holding it still as thin strips of skin came loose. He chopped up the cabbage, the carrots, and the peeled potato, and a bit of garlic from the ceiling; he added some of the onion he’d cut before and the garlic to a pan of hot oil first, and started it cooking. Once they had softened, he added ginger which he’d mashed in the mortar and pestle, along with chili powder, coriander, basil, caraway and fenugreek, all dried and ground. The smell rose up into the kitchen, and Aremu’s stomach grumbled, noisily. He grinned sheepishly at Aurelie.
He added the carrots, potato and cabbage then, with a sprinkle of salt; he covered that pan too, so it cooked alongside the rice. He checked on the rice, stirring at it gently, and left it to continue cooking.
Aremu unwrapped the fish from the banana leaf, then; he fileted it with a sharp knife, though he left the skin on both of the large filets. He ran sensitive fingertips along the inside after he’d teased the spine and the larger bones away, tweezing out the small pieces as he found them, one by one.
Finally, Aremu took the lime he’d bought, and scraped off the outside into a thin pile; he squeezed the juice out as well. The zest he mixed with flour, paprika, and more of the dried coriander. He dredged the pieces in it, carefully, and set them out to rest.
Aremu checked on the vegetable mixture, then, stirring it around; he moved it to a cooler part of the stove, and left it to cook through, covered once more. The rice he moved off, gently fluffing it, and leaving it to cool.
It was easy enough to talk while cooking; any questions Aurelie had, he found himself happy to answer. Otherwise, he was content enough to cook in comfortable silence, only occasionally grinning over at her, and mostly occupying himself with the busy absorption of the kitchen, the smells and the careful, precise work, all of it done with a firm but delicate touch.
The last step was cooking the fish; Aremu added oil to another pan, letting it heat, and added the flour-coated fillets. They sizzled, hot, steaming, the smell washing out into the room. He cooked them on one side, and then the other; when it smelled done to him, Aremu added the lime juice, and took the handle of the pan, swirling it carefully.
“All right,” Aremu said, then, happily. He grinned at Aurelie. Sometime in the midst of it, he’d fetched down plates and forks and knives, and cloths for their hands, filled cups with water and set them down also. He served the rice first, heaping some on to each plate, and then the vegetables, yellow-tinted and tender and sprinkled with the chopped cilantro. Last, carefully, he set one of the fish fillets onto each plate. He brought Aurelie’s to the table first, and set it before her, and then carried his own over, and eased down into a seat. Aremu shifted for a moment, looking down at the plate, and then back at Aurelie.
Welcome, he wanted to say; I’m glad to you're here. All he could manage was a smile. “I hope you like it,” Aremu said, instead.