Cookbook Calamity: (S)quid est nomen?

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NOT SAFE FOR CONSUMPTION

This story contains the horrible tale of someone defying all the rules of a cookbook. If you are a cook, please avert your eyes and nose.

**This page is foolish and silly. Press Crtl+W and cease this unacceptable behaviour immediately.**

## Introduction

It's a story, written by Fire. Funny, innit? REGARDLESS. This has absolutely no relation to Sanford Quid, Squidward, or any actual cephalopods. Nor does it relate to cuttlefish, even if they are noble animals.

## One - Birthday Gifting

Lyka smiled with a mischievous grin on her face. Delinius' birthday was fast approaching, and she would surprise him with something he could never expect, especially not from her: a dish from an old cookbook that was one of many pieces of family heritage gathering dustbunnies on a shelf.

Lyka: Heehee, let's see what I can create out of this, hm?

...the cookbook is entirely in that weird archaic language those Dwinians keep using. What's it called again, Latin? No, that's not a language. He's said that a few more times than should be necessary. It's Archaic. That's just what it's called. You can't speak out its true name, apparently it disturbs some ancient force that would be a big problem.

Lyka: This looks like... bread, I guess? Hmm. So it starts with... sauce bread. No wonder nobody knows these recipes.

She drenched a loaf of bread in hot sauce. Lots of it. Fortunately there was no shortage of the stuff; it was a staple condiment for Delinius. Oh, this word looks like... garden? So are they talking about garden salads, maybe? Yes, that seemed about right to her. After rummaging through the fridge's contents, Lyka began cutting up a variety of vegetables that belonged in a garden salad as far as she was concerned. We're not going to go over what defines a garden salad or god forbid what defines a sandwich. At least sandwitches aren't involved in any of this.

Lyka: Aha! They're asking me to make a mixed... a mixed what? Hmm. Might be to mix the bread in there in little bits. Almost like croutons, I guess, just drowned in hot sauce. Alright then!

Lyka chopped up the sauce-drenched bread and dropped the pieces into the salad with an unceremonious sweep, right off the cutting board. She then mixed it through the salad.

Lyka: That looks like the first part of the dish, then. Alright, what's next?

## Two - Volatile Substances

What's next? Next, the salad began boiling of its own accord. Then it caught fire.

Lyka: Oh. Hang on, let's see...

Lyka began flipping pages frantically, searching for something that might talk about this. There it was, an illustration of a flame.

Lyka: This is... 'ventus', which sounds like vent. Let it blow off some steam then!

She sent a blast of wind over the burning mess, which fortunately extinguished the flames. At least, they stayed out for a few moments before they flared up again. Lyka crossed her arms and watched it for a while. Then she grabbed the kettle and set it to heat some water, which she subsequently used to douse the flames. This time, they stayed down.

Lyka: And put. So where was I?

She paged back to read on. Right, the meat. The illustration seemed to indicate something with wings. Probably bats. Very abundant around here, what with the desert. While the combustible bread-sauce-salad stew bubbled and popped, she walked down into the cellar. Orange bat, tan bat, white bat, blue bat? Decisions, decisions. Though arguably, the blue bat was bound to be a bad choice, considering their inherent properties. Orange bat would be overkill with all the hot sauce flying around, but tan bats were rather basic and bland. But white bats smelled a little funny.

No, she would go with white bat. The sauce would drown out what little smell issues existed. She pulled out just the one wing. These things were kind of big to eat in one go. Funny how Delinius had no issues with using refrigerators and freezers to preserve food yet passionately pursued ice cream vendors for selling dangerous wares.

## Three - Sisterly Advice

The sound of meat being cut up and prepared attracted a visitor to the kitchen. For a brief moment, Lyka jumped, thinking it was Delinius, but it was just his sister Ina.

Ina: Ooh, what's cooking today?

Lyka: Don't tell him, it's a surprise.

She giggled, and Ina approached to inspect.

Ina: Oh boy. Smells good, sis. Wait... you're trying to read from this dusty old thing? Neat.

Lyka: I'm not sure I'm getting the words right, but this looks like it's about bats to me.

Ina looked at the passage marked by Lyka's finger.

Ina: Hmm... yeah. Yeah, bats. I think the original recipe was written for red forest bat, but white desert bat should work just fine. Related critters. You should probably season it with a bit more salt to compensate, though. Red bat is dryer, oddly enough.

Lyka: Thanks! I knew I was on the right track.

She smiled, and Ina smiled back.

Ina decided to go with the dish she saw before her eyes and work off of that rather than explain what was actually written here. It looked like Lyka had picked random pages from at least three different recipes, with some liberal guessing in between; there was no point trying to salvage this into anything that would remotely resemble a recipe in that cookbook's arsenal. The amount of hot sauce alone would likely incapacitate anyone outside this household.

Ina: Anytime. I'll get going and let you do your thing. If Delinius turns up, I'll distract him. I've got your back.

Winking, she waved goodbye, and she exited, giggling at all of this.

Meanwhile, Lyka was turning the bat wing into a luxurious course in the frying pan. Or rather, on a frying plate. That was how big these wings always were. Not quite the 'six person meal' sized plate, but they didn't own any frying pans large enough to hold a wing comfortably. She had to take care now; these things were more vulnerable to fire, whether alive or dead. Once it gained a bit of that crisp Delinius absolutely loved, she quickly lifted the plate from the stove. She then managed to launch the whole wing into the sink. Oops.

Lyka: Ah crap. That never gets old.

She picked it up, rinsed it with water just a bit, then arranged it on a plate. Serve cold with trace amounts of sink contents, right? Oh, this next page had some chopped fruits on it. And 'fructus', which sounded a bit like fruit too. So those had to go in too. Now where...

...they were out of fruit. Of course. That one early morning spree had not been the best of plans.

Lyka: Uh oh. Wait, there's still some dried fruits in here.

Dried fruits, for lack of anything better. This was fine.

## Four - Creativity Wins

It was almost done. Despite the vast amount of seasoning inherent to the hot sauce already, the meal needed a bit to offset the saltiness. Something sweet, perhaps?

Lyka: Crap, crap, it's almost time!

Literally anything sweet would do. In her panic, she grabbed the first thing she saw in the pantry, which was a few chewy sweets. They melted almost instantly as she threw them into the sauce-whatever mixture. Stir until none of the components of the stew are recognisable anymore, right? It looked edible... probably.

Lyka listened intently. She could hear Delinius speak with his sister, approaching quickly.

Delinius: As I was saying, they really ought to-

Ina: Oh, that reminds me, you need to check the kitchen just for a moment.

Gently pushed (shoved) into the kitchen by Ina with a smile (wide grin), Delinius gazed upon his beloved.

Delinius: Hello, my dear! What's all of this?

Lyka: I... cooked you something special! Have a look at this.

She revealed her culinary masterpiece: served on a large plate with a bowl in the middle, the stew was surrounded by the pieces of bat wings, garnished with dried fruits and a last-minute bit of greenery to balance everything out.

Delinius raised an eyebrow.

Delinius: What an unusual dish. What kind of recipe did you use?

Lyka: Oh, something I heard about. Are you hungry?

Delinius: Quite, actually. Shall we?

Ina stepped into the kitchen as well, and the three of them brought their servings out to the terrace to enjoy the last of the dimming sunlight. Delinius lit up the glass orbs outside with a flick of the wrist, and they all sat down.

Ina: Praise the cook!

Delinius: Praise to the cook.

Lyka: The honor is mine!

She watched the siblings dig into their meals. They both decided to try the stew first, probably because it was the unfamiliar part of the dish.

Ina coughed for a moment, then resumed eating. She had only taken half a spoon of it at first. Delinius, on the other hand...

Delinius: Now that...

Before he could finish his sentence, a deep, primal belch escaped his mouth, accompanied by some flames.

Delinius: ... is a properly spicy meal. Have you been studying magical cooking theories?

Ina leaned over the table and whispered something into his ear.

Delinius: Pardon?

Ina: Honestly? I do actually like it, though perhaps you could adjust the quantity of hot sauce for the next time.

Delinius raised his hand.

Delinius: This reminds me of an obscure "ritual cooking" class for which I was asked to staff the jury. The difference is that none of the students were able to produce a taste as intense as this.

He gently took Lyka's hand, bringing it to his lips.

Lyka: Oh, you flatter me!

Delinius: On the contrary, you braved a book that you couldn't understand a word of, and created a meal that nobody else could have created. I'd like to write the recipe down together with you tonight, and make it a tradition.

## End

Apparently, even if you don't know what the cookbook is saying, a bit of elbow grease, lateral thinking and creativity will offset that and create a dish unlike anything that was in the book.

[Please do not try this at home, at least the hot sauce part. This stunt (accident) was carried out (blundered through) by professionals (a laywoman and hapless magicians) in a controlled environment (literally just Delinius' desert home).]