Liquin Saltte

UP : Britain (Lake Superior)

    'Twas a fine day for cooking in the eyes of Stubbs the cook the other day, so the Britain chef put out some tables and had himself something that he called a barbecue. "I wished to introduce the fine art of the barbecue to the folks of Britannia," said Stubbs, "I find that often so many people are in such a hurry to be fighting monsters or, heaven-forbid, each other, that they miss some of the finer things about Britannia. I consider cooking a good meal to rank right up there with slaying the meanest dragon around."

    The barbecue was held outside Britain's butcher shop, The Cleaver. The feast included all types of meats including bacon, chicken legs, whole barbecued birds and the ever-popular ribs. "It is impossible to hold a good barbecue without ribs," said Stubbs the cook, "and, of course, ale, which we also had plenty of."

    Stubbs the cook alerted the town criers of the event and apparently paid for the feast from his own pocket. The Town Cryer food reviewing staff thinks this might have been a carefully planned investment, though, as the food was so mouthwateringly good, that many of the Town Cryer staffers have gone back to the butcher's shop again and again for more of the meats. We have noticed that the food is not free anymore, but are hooked on the succulent meats at this point, and can do nothing about it.

    The most interesting part of this so-called barbecue is an orangish-brown sauce that Stubbs the cook first presented at the public feast. He would say nothing of its origins or the recipe that made up the tasty sauce, but insisted it was a closely held family secret that has been passed down through his guild for generations. The Town Cryer foods section would certainly like to find out the makings of this tasty sauce and hopes to negotiate the publication rights so that all Britannians may try their luck at this barbecuing.

    The public barbecue, however, appeared to be a stunning success. Many fine citizens dropped by to participate, and nary a stomach left the tables without being full. This reporter had to leave without sampling all of the fine meats, as some sort of inner voice spoke to me and said, "You are simply too full to eat anymore." Curse my stomach! If I can only somehow become known as a grandmaster eater, my days will be forever content.

From the Town Cryer - The Journal of Ultima Online, Saturday, April 18th 1998