Barak of Haros: A Slice of (Well-Seasoned) Life
A scene from Siroc, sometime in the middle of this season. Barak cooks to relax - although sometimes even that reminds him of his work.
Shaved down to two drabbles, because it was that or let it run away with me.
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“Scevola’s Special Sarvossian Seasoning?” Joshua gives me a look laden with additional questions.
“It’s a blend. Mostly basil and oregano, some parsley, garlic… other things.”
He looks at the list. He looks back at me. The list contains basil, oregano, some parsley, garlic… other things. I hadn’t thought of how it must look.
“Look, I’ve been trying for years to pin it down,” I confess, “years, and I have never reproduced it. It’s said she’s the only one who knows the recipe, and she’s in her eighties…”
He asks no additional questions. But I’m not at all sure he understands.
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I know this is plaintive, pathetic even, but if it isn’t written, even her next life couldn’t find it out. That is knowledge truly lost. And not trivia, either: here is the culmination of years of skill, fed by Pride and watered by Ambition, and-
No horse forgets her rider;
A slate, at a whim, is cleaned.
Were there Virtue in herbs, perhaps she might re-learn it. Instead, what’s lost to her is lost to the world. Like little Hugh, lost for another lifetime.
When he returns, I am still brooding. And for all my efforts, I cannot articulate why.
Shaved down to two drabbles, because it was that or let it run away with me.
-----
“Scevola’s Special Sarvossian Seasoning?” Joshua gives me a look laden with additional questions.
“It’s a blend. Mostly basil and oregano, some parsley, garlic… other things.”
He looks at the list. He looks back at me. The list contains basil, oregano, some parsley, garlic… other things. I hadn’t thought of how it must look.
“Look, I’ve been trying for years to pin it down,” I confess, “years, and I have never reproduced it. It’s said she’s the only one who knows the recipe, and she’s in her eighties…”
He asks no additional questions. But I’m not at all sure he understands.
-----
I know this is plaintive, pathetic even, but if it isn’t written, even her next life couldn’t find it out. That is knowledge truly lost. And not trivia, either: here is the culmination of years of skill, fed by Pride and watered by Ambition, and-
No horse forgets her rider;
A slate, at a whim, is cleaned.
Were there Virtue in herbs, perhaps she might re-learn it. Instead, what’s lost to her is lost to the world. Like little Hugh, lost for another lifetime.
When he returns, I am still brooding. And for all my efforts, I cannot articulate why.