Y'all know me - know how I plays my D&D. Y- you don't?
Oh.
Alright, my weltanschauung is to evoke in my players an emotional experience that matches what their characters would be feeling in-game. It's an art form and I'm the heavy metal Picasso of doing it. 
A big part of that is attention to sensory experience and empathy. And a lot of my effort goes toward mood & ambiance, tension, exhilaration, fear. These feelings come up a lot on a quest, in a dungeon, or fighting for your life. But there's a part of the game where I DON'T tie the game world to a sensory experience - World Building.
And that's a mistake, Hulkamaniacs.
Therefore I present Dungeons and Dinner. Dinner and Dragons. We play a lot at night and we brake for dinner, offering the perfect experience to explore the gustatory sensations of our campaigns' cultures.
Here's how it works:
1.) Pick a race, region or combo (like the dwarves of the Iron Hills) from your campaign or world.
2.) Find a typical dish those folks would eat & link to it.
3.) World build. Write a brief description of the dish, why it's popular, how it exemplifies the culture its from.
4.) Steal. Take other peoples' ideas and use them in your game.
5.) Cook for extra credit. Make the dish and serve it up as though you're presenting it as a member of that culture.
I'll kick it off with RATS ON A BUDGET, a staple of virtually every Goblin tribe.
A quick and easy dish made from subterranean mammal meat (by region, including moles, voles, rats, gophers & badgers), root vegetables, whatever's not looking too fresh, and spices scavenged or otherwise, Rats on a Budget is prepared by skewering everything onto a long knife and leaving it by a fire for later. The dish is so common, there's hardly a goblin fire to be found without these pungent meat-skewers roasting nearby. Maybe the goblins simply forget them, but it seems likely they're always making these and leaving them around for later - who knows when or where the next meal will be?
I was once on a delve with a Dwarf who took us on a detour into goblin territory just for these snacks. Apparently he was a veteran of many skirmishes with the Gobs and had grown fond of the dish as a sort of post-battle victory meal.
PULLED ORC
1. The formorians, ettins, and other giant-kin of the Oozing Bog of Ugh are quite fond of pulled orc.
2. Here it is in the pot:
"Eye" spy pulled orc, just like your ogress of a mother used to make.
3. The giant-kin of the Oozing Bog of Ugh were driven out of the mountains and into the marsh by the ferocious Host of the One Eye, a confederation of orcish tribes united under the banner of Grimgaunt, an orc-wight. Now, whenever they kill or capture orcs, they slow cook them over a pit of smoking wood until the skin and meat is fork-tender. They then shred them by pulling them apart and adding a tangy sauce made of dark sugar derived from wild cane, rice wine vinegar, and spicy swamp peppers. Once done, the giant-kin put one orc eye into the mix as an insult to Gruumsh and the Host that drove them from their homeland. It's considered good luck to get the eye when the meal is served (plus it's tasty).
4. Rats on a budget are generally served as hors d'oeuvre since it takes quite a long time for those stubborn orcs to smoke to melt-in-your-one-or-more-mouths perfection.
5. Pulled pork is one of the more common things my group has made around the gaming table. Crock pots for the win. Cheap and delicious, it's a real crowd-pleaser.
The elves of the great western forest.
The elves of the great western forest.have lived in the forest for generations. Over the generation they gained some resistance to the poisinous plants of the forest.
They make pesto from forest nettles and crushed acorns, they blanch the nettles in boiling water for a minute or 2, enjoing the added taste and sensation the nettles give and suffer no ill efect from the residual stings.
They can make a version palateble to other races by boiling the nettles for about 10 minutes, this version is also used as one of the first foods the elven infats get fed.
The elves sometimes make fun of other races that have to eat baby food,
The Halfling Waste-Not Hot Pot
The Stout Halflings of the Red River Delta cook this pot Sunday afternoons by scraping together whatever's left in the larder and letting it stew.
After a week of 4 course meals 3 times a day, the Stouts' larders run low. Not to be deterred, they throw whatever didn't become a meal into their largest pot, thus emptying the larder, and stewing it over the fire while they head out to the grocers, butchers, and gardens to restock. Stout families spend the rest of the day, bowls in hand, refilling when they get a chance.
If you're passing through the Red Rover Delta, make sure you eat a meal on a Sunday. You'll get the entire flavor profile of that week's meals for a copper piece, and the informality of the presentation means you get a Halfling-cooked meal that doesn't take 3 hours to eat (and nobody will be offended if you don't stay to chat - just say you're off shopping)!
Nut Ragout
Ingredients (For 4 People)
- 3 red onions
- 1 pound of red patotoes (4 big patatoes or 8 small ones)
- 4 carrots
- 2 medium-sized leeks
- 2 cups of rice
- 2 pounds of lard
- 8 nuts
- 4 cups of chicken brough
- 1 cup of pig blood
- 3 cloves
- Rosemary, thym and bay leaves
- Salt, pepper
Preperation
Pin the cloves to the red onions and put all the ingredients in a large sealed pot except the lard, nuts, pig blood, and rice. Veggies taste better with a little bit of dirt so don't clean them too much. Let everything simmer for about 3 hours. Add salt and pepper for flavor. After waiting, place the lard, nuts and pig blood in the pot and stir. Let it simmer for another hour or until the flavors mix. About 30 minutes before serving, place the rice in another pot and add 4 cups of water. Wait for the rice to absorb the water and stirr regularly. Add salt and pepper as desired. When everything is ready, serve the rice as a side dish and dig in the big pot. There should be enough food for 4 average male orcs or 3 strong males.
Choosing your Nuts
Your nuts need to be fresh. Less than a day. Ideally these nuts would be recently chopped off a dwarf of elf prisonner. Halfling nuts tend to be a poor substitute because of their small size. If nothing else is available, double the number of nuts in the recipe.
Origin
A few years back, the Black Tust orc clan from the Smocky Hills was led by an especially strong female warrior called Brash'ka. Brash'ka had the reputation of cutting off and eating her male companion's manhood when unsatisfied. During that time, some very supersticious orc warriors of the clan believed that this was the origin of her supernatural strength. After all, men are stronger than women so their strength has to come from somewhere. What Brash'ka did not now was that there was a growing rebellion amongst the orcs. Being led by a female was the ultimate disgrace for many of them, especially for a relatively week orc cook called Flork. In the spring of the year of the Hazel Nut, the orcs of the Black Tust clan launched a surprise attack against the neighbouring dwarves. Even though Flork was too weak to fight, he instructed a handfull of allied orcs to return with a few dwarven prisonners. And that is how the Nut Ragout was born. The story says that on the night the orcs returned with the dwarven prisonners, Flork prepared for the first time the ragout for his favored companions. The mightiest of these orcs, later known as Ushki Nuteater, felt a surge of strength and vitality after eating the ragout and challenged Brash'ka for a duel to become the new chief of the clan. Ushki prevailed ending Brash'ka's rein of terror. Since then, the clan has made a habbit of emasculating their prisonners and the nut ragout has become a near religious ritual that only the mightiest of warriors can participate in.
Caution
Don't try this recipe at home, even if you hate your little brother.
Rack of Mage
1. Bugbears consider rack of mage to be a delicacy.
2. Here it is has been tenderized with morningstars and served with colorful material components:
This is no illusion - it really does look magical, evoking a great pang of hunger and conjuring up thoughts of a feast of heroes.
3. Around the Ruins of Old School, a once great wizard's academy that fell to a magical calamity decades ago, lives a loosely-knit clan of bugbears. They were once part of the Great Goblin Horde of Bargrivyek that claimed the area prior to being destroyed by the rampage of the Host of the One Eye. A clan of bugbears - cautious lurkers that they are - lingered in the area after the slaughter, attracted by the great number of wizards that sought out the nodes of power at the academy.
You see wizards, soft creatures that they are, spend most of their time relaxing in leisure, eating fine foods, and reading books. They fatten up nicely and their muscles don't get lean and stringy like hard-working peasants or warriors. So they are prized fare indeed for hungry bugbears who learned that the secret to a proper rack of mage is to surprise the wizard and kill him in a single stroke. This keeps the wizard's panic from seeping into the meat, darkening it, and fouling the flavor. This is why bugbears always go after the wizard first.
There haven't been many mages in the area of the Ruins of Old School of late, except for the odd adventuring party that comes through. More than a few wizards traveling with them have found themselves hacked and roasted into a delicious rack of mage.
4. Excellent with forest nettle pesto.
5. We've done rack of lamb at a few sessions, but not many. We've roasted goat before as well. What an adventure!
Nice topic,
Amongst elves and some lucky human rangers, there is a travellers nut that is cultivated specifically for long journeys. The nut itself is very hard on the outide and about the size of a small ball about an inch and half in diameter. They are very portable and tend to last without going bad for very long periods of time.
The nuts are prepared by roasting them over a very hot fire. As the nut is almost cooked, it gives a loud hiss before cracking allowing a soft white potato like substance to explode out much like popcorn exploding out of the kernel. Various theories exist on what is best used to flavor the heart of the nut but it is used widely as a base. Even dwarves have been known to enjoy pouring a hearty stew over the substance. Elves will often pack a small water bottle containing a thick rich buttery sauce that they use on the nut. Due to their incredible shelf life, they often act as a reserve supply and sometimes are found underground years after their original owners succumbed to ambush.
The Gnolls of the Howling Horde are always on the prowl. Unfortunately, they can't always get a nice Rack of Mage or Gnomes in a Blanket. Sometimes they've just gotta choke down whatever they happen to find. Fortunately, Yee'heeruogo the Poisoner stumbled across a seasoning that absolutely kills the taste of most poisons (and rot).
Since then, they put it on everything. They slice the meat into thin strips, spice it, singe it, and wrap it in unleavened bread to eat on the go.
Often accompanied by Dragon Ball Tea.
Some ideas;
Sahuagin Fin Soup
Dragon a l'Orange
Warg Stroganoff
McGoblin with Flies
Yuan Tea (sorry...)
and for the discerning demon's table;
Soul Consommé
Orc Pie
Inspired by the infamous Monte Cook's: The Orc and The Pie
I'm not much into cooking.
The problem with unicorns is when they die, their horn disappears, leaving you standing there with your crossbow next to a dead horse and having to explain yourself to the cops.
kill_the_wiz_first wrote:
iserith wrote:
iserith wrote:
bawylie wrote:
Hob-Goblin or Goblin-on-the-Hob
First, catch your goblin. Chop finely and marinade for five years in a cauldron of red wine spiced with garlic and cloves. Chateau Grieffe & Woah is recommended but any good vintage will do. The cauldron should preferably be kept in a cold, damp cellar kept free of rats and giant spiders.
When the meat is ready, drain off the marinade carefully, thicken it with a half pound of ichor and set it aside for later.
Shred the meat and fry quickly on the hob in a spoonful of oil. Do not use lamp oil or your lamp will go out and you won't be able to see what you are doing.
Serve on a non-metallic plate.
What? No ale? What kind of dinner is this?
Essence of Dwarf
No other beer has as much bite as the Grog Nerd's Essence of Dwarf, the master brewer's most famous recipe; the Bitter of Bitters.
Brewed by Hundrak the Alesmith, dwarven proprietor of the Grog Nerd tavern, the Essence of Dwarf is the favorite of many dwarves; some even say it is a blessed gift from Moradin. Non-dwarves, however, have a harder time with it. Most humans can barely stomach a pint and a half. Halfings will gladly share a pint, but usually are hit the hardest by the brew's potency, due to their diminutive size. Elves can't stand the smell of it.
A local tradition has been held for the last 117 years, from the day the Essence was first brought to ale mugs. Any non-dwarf who finishes their pint is immeditely brought a second one. Should the patron drink this second pint and manage to keep it in, Hundrak himself will deliver a third pint and announce it to everybody present. At this point, eyebrows will raise and betting and speculation start. How much more can he or she take? Is there maybe some dwarven blood in that person?
Should the third pint be emptied (by way of drinking, not knocking over, of course), a local artist will draw the person's portrait, which will be hung on the tavern's Wall of Fame. The brave soul who has managed the feat has now become an honorary member of Hundrak's clan and can drink for free for as long as he or she lives.
Only 23 non-dwarves have managed it in 117 years, including a single elf who hasn't returned since she accomplished the three-pint challenge almost 80 years ago. That elf has become somewhat of a legend, and to this day some still try to figure out how she did it. More often than not, magic which cancels the effects of alcohol is the explanation they come up with (usually followed by "But what would be the point then?"). Dwarven heritage is simply out of the question, to these people.
Few can stomach the Essence; fewer still can truly appreciate it. Tasters have come from far and wide to try and find out what makes it so unique. Others have tried to reproduce the recipe, but all attempts thus far have failed. There is one mysterious ingredient, one that nobody has come even close to finding out, although it feels familiar to dwarves (which is part of the reason they like it so much more than other races).
It's dwarven facial hair. Beard hair.
Hundrak discovered it by mistake, when he found some of his own in a batch of ale he had made. Much to his surprise, the taste was not ruined, but rather made better by it. He has since perfected his recipe, through trial and error. Now, he knows just what takes to make it perfectly everytime.
Hundrak's wife, Marinn, collects it from the patrons. She's always on the lookout for dwarves who are annoyed, spiteful, complaining, ticked off. In a bitter mood, one might say. When she spots her target, she'll offer a complementary grooming of the beard, under the pretense of helping the customer calm down. In fact, she makes sure that her mark stays just in the right emotional state as she brushes and trims the beard. If they get too angry, she'll simmer them down with kind words; if they're getting too relaxed, she'll rile them up a bit. Once she's done, she ends the conversation and leaves with her fresh ingredients.
And that's where the name Essence of Dwarf comes from.