Funny you brought this up. Because you see, there is this shop in Sorcerer's Deep...
Adventurous Eats
Eight Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC
Shula called the Unhinged, is one of the few who have the right to say he's a true native of the Deep. Born and raised on the Grey Gallows, not that many still calls the island by that name these days, he lived all his life under the shadow of the Blood Crag Fortress and survived five Pirate Lords who all availed of his craft save one. The accursed Damphair. So when he was offered a position with the fancy sounding as Royal Taxidermist, what's a failed pirate aught to do? Not to mention, a freaking dragon asks you to do it.
It proved to be the biggest mistake and boon of his life.
"I swear the dead thing in amber was looking at me. It's eyes are blue, Nudia! It kept following me everywhere!" he pulled up the fat rat by tail. "It almost stopped me from stuffing the dog-thing they got from Valyria. Almost being the word! I'm a professional after all!" He dropped the fat rat among its squeaking fellows and brought the basket over to the awaiting serpentfolk.
Polite folk, these unblinking ones. They don't even call him out when he's rambling... unlike that foul mouthed horse-boy and his dour friend sitting beside them.
"You're speaking out loud again, Shula." said the horse-boy. "Is that really a way to greet your loyal customers?"
"Bah, speak aloud or in my head, dem snakiness can hear me the same. Don't you Vrazildri? Not that you want to look inside my head do you? Or did my spleen brain told you some lies about me again?" the owner (and only employee) of Deathly Bites rambled on.
The serpentfolk, ever polite ignored him.
Thesse look like a fine meal, what do you recommend for ssauce?
The mad proprietor of the most intriguing cookhouse of The Deep grabbed a jar from a nearby shelf, a pot from the table before him, and a vial from his robes. "Tonic of fly agaric, makes a man lose his wits. Powdered hemlock, poisons his body, and mix it with hot peppers from Dorne steeped in oil!" His hands gloved in leather, pour, smear and mix the substances together. "I recommend you dip Mandu first. He's the squemish one with a white tail."
The snake-man ignored him as usual and picked a different rat. Vormos... or is it Netto? The black ones always give him trouble telling apart.
"He's still at it, Django. Still naming his rats!" The dour boy spoke, which Shula ignored of course, while watching as Vrazildri bled the rat into his mixture, dip it fur and all, then
gobbled it in one go.
"Well?" Shula, mad cook and part time taxidermist nervously asked as the serpentfolk stood there as if stunned.
Vrazildri took a gulp as the amulet she wore flashed bright for a moment.
Itss good. Tangy and earthy and furry... Now I am envissioning I am growing fur... the mushroom?
"Interesting! So fly agaric works on reptiles to, huh?" Shula eagerly noted while pulling out other odds and ends from around his shop. When he finally sent his snakey patrons their way with full stomachs, he ran out of arsenic and milk of the poppy. So light on his steps he approached his human clients stating, "No milk for today. No restful bliss for you both."
The two shrugged while wearing the complementary amulets required for any to partake his wares. "Well, what do you have that's great with steak then?" The dour boy replied.
Shula pondered, then remembered what happened a month back. He went to the back of his shop and found the pot of chopped rye ergots steeped in wine, then brought it back to his clients. "I don't know what this is, but it made me taste the rainbow for a whole afternoon. Let's roast your steak, then pour this in and see what happens!"
And after that repast, that day started to become known in The Deep, as the Day of the Three Jolly Horsemen.
Notes: Remember that joke about Viserys doing a taste test with poisons? Well, for folk with money to throw away, Deathly Bites offers you tastes to die for (which of course you won't, as you're wearing amulets against poisoning), provided you can stand it's proprietor's madness and tendency to experiment. Our emerging epicureans didn't expect quite the trip.
)
