Inn Soup - Ríon

Now, Ríon’s favourite food was typically a nice, spicy ramen - whether it was soup or noodles. That being said, during Frost Season… it was hard to avoid the call of inn soups. As soon as that chill began to permeate the air, she craved it. There were so many different varieties, and sometimes more than one to choose from at one inn! Not in the small town that was near Ríon’s cozy little cave home, though. The inn was too small for multiple soups, it would have been horribly wasteful. 

She had awoken within her blanket fort terribly hungry. Had she even remembered to eat dinner the previous night? She didn’t think so. That had been a horrible mistake. Now… now her stomach was gurgling and rumbling, insisting on making its displeasure known. Okay, that was fine… She could deal with this, simply because it was soup season! She wouldn’t need to forage, hunt, or fish for her breakfast, she’d simply have to trot into town and order a bowl of hot, fragrant soup. Easy enough, right? Ríon certainly thought so - but she was unaware of the trials and tribulations that were going to stand in the way of her acquiring her delicious, delicious soup.

Blissfully ignorant, Ríon fastened her scarf around her neck, her hat atop her head. She could feel the chill in the air that lingered outside even within the coziness of her cave. It was going to be brisk out there, and she needed to be prepared.

Ríon was almost surprised with herself. She didn’t normally go into town two days in a row. Was Frost Season getting to her? Was it making her more sociable, less likely to avoid areas of civilization? She pondered over the question as she made her way through the tunnel to the entrance of her cave, but she couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer. She’d have to tuck it away for now, and return to it when she had the time and energy to give it a little more intensive thought.

For once, Ríon was relieved that the walk to town was reasonably short. It would have been nicer on a day like this, she thought, for there to have been an actual path from her cave, but… she knew that was just the cold temperature talking. She preferred it pathless, she preferred her lack of visitors. Mostly, anyway. 

She kept her head tucked down as she entered the little town, hoping to avoid any interaction that wasn’t necessary to her quest for soup. It was a tactic that normally worked - the town was small enough that though the townsfolk didn’t know her well (on purpose on her art, of course, and not for lack of trying on theirs), they did know her enough by now to know that she preferred to avoid small talk and chatting where possible. They didn’t really understand her, but they respected her choice, and that was enough for Ríon - it was enough for her to feel a little warmer towards them, as well.

The inn was easy to find - it was the biggest building in the town. While it was a small town, it was located on an important trade route, so plenty of travellers found themselves in need of a place to stay in the town, usually within the warmer seasons. Though Frost Season had its own draw, of course - the soup at the inn was undeniably delicious. Many inns and taverns across Faia could boost delicious soup, but if you asked Ríon, there was something special about the soup here. Maybe that was because she rarely ventured further than the town’s distance away from her cave, so she hadn’t had many opportunities to try other soups. But, then again, she didn’t need to try every soup to know a delicious one when she ate it!

She pushed the door to the inn open, smiling slightly at the rush of warm, soup-scented air. Wait. It wasn’t soup scented at all. It smelled like… tea, not soup. It was Frost Season, where was the mouth watering scent of a simmering soup? Her smile quickly shifted to a frown as she looked about the inn. There were only two patrons at the moment, sitting at the corner table with a pot of tea between them. That… that wasn’t right at all. It was supposed to be uncomfortably (for her) bustling with people, vying for a bowl of soup. 

Unsure, Ríon approached the bar counter. It was made of a deep, dark wood that she didn’t recognise, with scratches and rings from wet drinks embedded into the surface. It was clean, though, always clean - never left sticky. The barkeep and innkeepers made sure the place was always nice and welcoming, and Ríon appreciated their efforts, even if she rarely said more than two words to whomever was working at the time. 

“Ríon!” The barkeep, a rather chunky, but small, lumendra, said. She was still unsure how everyone had learned her name, but it was a small town. Information spread quickly and easily in places like this. “After yer usual bowl of soup?” He asked. Before Ríon could so much as nod, however, he was continuing on: “I’m ‘fraid I have some bad news for ya on that front… cook’s out sick today, there’s no soup on. There’s not much of anything on, unless ya want a cup of hot tea?”

Ríon frowned again. No soup? No food at all? That simply wouldn’t do. She had come all this way, braved the social interactions… she wasn’t going to leave without a delicious bowl of soup. She just needed to come up with a plan.

Not phased by her lack of reply, the lumendra spoke again: “Are ya plannin’ something, then?” he asked, “I s’pose if ya really wanted to, I could let ya back here to cook something… ya jus’ have ta promise not ta burn the whole place down, if’n I do.”

Aha! He had solved the problem for her. She could cook a pot of soup! It wouldn’t be the same as their chef doing it, of course. He was incredible, the soup’s were always hearty, fragrant, and full of interesting flavours. She was no cook herself, save for a few simple things, so she knew she wouldn’t be able to achieve that depth of flavour… but perhaps she could craft something simple that would scratch the soup itch? Surely she could! It didn’t matter that she had never done it before.

“Okay,” she said, once she had managed to break herself free of her thoughts. The lumendra laughed, a big belly laugh, at her single word - it was more, after all, than what she usually said while she was here. 

“Kitchen’s all yers, then!” he said, gesturing to the double, Western-style doors to his left. Almost hesitantly, Ríon moved towards them, gingerly pushing them open. The kitchen was nice and spacious, with plenty of equipment to choose from. Some of it she had no idea what it even did! But, luckily enough, for her goal, she just needed a rudimentary pot, and maybe some utensils. It didn’t take a scientist of any sort to figure out how to use those - a pot she had experience with, even if her own were much smaller. Most of her meals she cooked over the fire pit in her cave, grateful that the cave had its own natural vents to carry away the smoke from the fire, allowing her to be cozy at night, or to cook a hot meal for herself. 

First thing was first. Time to light a fire under the big kitchen pot. That was an easy enough task for Ríon, with plenty of experience lighting fires. She could still remember the first time she had tried, though… it hadn’t gone particularly well at all. The flint simply hadn’t wanted to work with her, she was certain, and it had taken her almost an hour to get a fire going, by which time she had been thoroughly freezing. This time, though, it was a simple strike and the tinder caught, a small fire beginning to send up heat and smoke.

Step one? Done.

Now, to gather up her ingredients. It was easy enough to figure out where the dry storage was, as well as the icebox for ingredients that needed to be kept chilled. This, of course, was the most integral part of it all. What flavours did she want in her own inn soup? What she picked here would determine how the rest of the process went, and the last thing she wanted was to mess this part up. 

Onions, certainly. A good base for any soup, she thought. Maybe some carrots and potatoes from the dry storage, as well. A bit of barley for good measure and extra heartiness… Okay, that was a good start. She set her onions, carrots, potatoes, and barley on the big kitchen counter, then turned to the icebox. Another important question for this part of her process… did she want meat? And if she did, what kind? Ruptours had always been skilled hunters, hunting for their food over farming, due to their migratory nature, back before they had been locked away in amulets. Which was to say… of course she was going to add some meat to her soup! 

Ríon dug through the icebox, humming softly to herself as she did. Celery, that was perfect, completing the trifecta with onions and carrots. Oh, and there! The centerpiece to her soup - a big chunk of beef! Red meat would really make this a filling and hearty soup, she thought. Oh, this was going to be absolutely perfect!

Now, the final thing on her ingredient list… herbs. There was a huge spice rack on one of the walls of the kitchen, and after setting her last ingredients next to the others, Ríon found her way over there. What to pick, what to pick… Well, she knew rosemary would be a perfect accompaniment to beef, so that was a no brainer. Next… maybe some parsley, and a little black pepper? She didn’t want to overdo it with herbs and spices, she thought. She wanted the ingredients themselves to shine in her soup! Of course, the last dry ingredient was an easy pick - she was going to need a little beef bouillon to make sure that flavour stood out, and to make sure her broth was nice and full. 

And on to the next step: prepping everything. Ríon set out several bowls, ranging from large to tiny, which she could put her ingredients in. Then, onto the chopping and measuring! Ingredients washed and ready, she started prepping them with gusto. She was still hungry, after all, and though she knew a good soup took time… she could certainly speed up the process wherever possible. Carrots and potatoes peeled, chopped, thrown into their respective bowls. Onions peeled, diced, into a bowl. Celery chopped, barley measured out, herbs diced and measured. Finally, the beef. Roughly chopped into bite sized cubes, she settled it in its own big bowl. 

She was finally ready to begin cooking!

Onions first into the now hot pot, with butter, and a little bit of oil to ensure the butter didn’t burn. She’d soften those up, then throw in the beef to brown. Add her herbs and spices, pause for a moment to take in just how fragrant her soup already was. Oh, her mouth was already watering! Next, the celery and carrots. Get them softened just enough… and onto some measured out water and the beef bouillon. Once that had hit a boil, it was time for her potatoes and her barley. She gave it a little time, waiting as patiently as she could, then brought out her spoon for taste testing. Hm… she frowned. It was missing something. Of course! Salt! And maybe a little more herbs and spices, too, to fully bring everything together…

She added her missing ingredients, then a little bit of flour whisked in in order to thicken the broth. A nice, thick beef stew… now that was the ultimate inn soup if you were asking Ríon. 

She let it simmer for some time, trying her best to ignore the rumblings of her stomach. It really just wouldn’t stop! But she couldn’t rush the soup… it wouldn’t be what she was craving if she did!

“It’s smellin’ great in here,” the lumendra barkeep said, pushing open the doors to the kitchen. “Did ya make a lot of it? We’ve already got folks askin’ about the soup today…”

For some reason, that made Ríon smile. Her soup smelled good enough that other people wanted some…? It was a good thing she had made a lot! That big soup pot’s size was deceiving… it felt silly to only cook a little bit of soup in such a large pot, so Ríon had made a full, bubbling pot of stew. There was more than enough to go around if other people wanted some! “I did,” she said softly, glancing from her pot of soup to the lumendra barkeep. “Others are welcome to it, if they want some…”

Really, that had to be a record for how many words she had spoken in this establishment. Something about Frost Season, something about inn soup season… it seemed to soften Ríon slightly to social interaction. Normally she shied away from it at every turn (did she not like other people? Was she afraid of talking to them? The townsfolk themselves weren’t overly sure, and, in all honesty, neither was Ríon. It just… made her nervous), but today… today she was speaking in whole sentences, apparently. That was new for her. 

The lumendra barkeep smiled a wide, happy smile. Despite her knack for avoiding conversation, Ríon was rather dear to the townspeople. She came and spent her money, she participated in the local economy, and she was a staple around the inn during Frost Season, whether she knew that about herself or not. “Perfect,” he said with a nod. “I’ll let the others know that the soup’ll be ready soon.”

And it would be ready soon, Ríon thought. It was smelling incredible, and she had been oh so patient in waiting for it to cook and thicken… It would be even better, she thought, if she let it simmer for longer (soup was always better the longer you cooked it), but it had hit an acceptable level, now, and she was so hungry.

She grabbed a few sizeable bowls, spoons, and went back for a loaf of crusty bread, fresh from the local bakery that morning. She started dishing up bowls of soup and cutting up chunks of the bread, passing them through the kitchen window to the barkeep, who distributed them amongst the patrons. Once everyone was happy and situated with their soup, it was her and the barkeep’s turn. By the time Ríon sat down at the bar with her bowl of soup and bread, her stomach wouldn’t stop rumbling. But it was okay, now, because it was time to dig in!

She took a spoonful of the soup, blew on it to cool it some, and then ate it.

It wasn’t the best inn soup she had ever had… but she thought that it might just be deserving of the inn soup name.