97 Hot Season 716
While it might have been quite the annoying request from the customers, F'mos did not seem adverse to what they wanted. When he had found out about the Razorfins which were in Etzori waters and their value to someone of his vocation, he made it his priority to catch some of his own. Both to taste and experiment on. He may not be an expert at turning those fishes into the best dish anyone would ever taste, but his experience in making it into a somewhat respectable dish was good enough. Good enough that he was able to take advantage of his post as a cook for the Blacks for some benefits on the side.The Razorfins are quite easy to prepare in his opinion. Like any other fish it did not take the expertise of someone, like Maylan, to first prepare the fish in a form which can be cooked. Otherwise any attempt by F'mos would have been an exercise in futility, much like every other game meat normally brought to the Kettle. While the Blacks were responsible for creating some of the best soup available to those in the outer perimeter of the city, the Aukari was of the opinion those able enough only wanted to employ Maylan's expertise in skinning their kills. And to prepare something they can have cooked and shared with their fellows.
But the fish of the Misty Miasma required a different set of skills. One which F'mos had been initiated into by his mother back in Sirothelle as he helped with the foods and sometimes poisons. It was when the lunch crowd had diminished and the stragglers could be served with anything left over in the pot, that F'mos was working with yet another fish someone had brought in. He had made sure he had only approached those with their own Razorfins, even if outside the Kettle. He found this preferable, not wanting the knowledge of his ability to work with them to spread. A lot of times he was ignored, their owners preferring to use the services of those which have been more tried and tested in the culinary arts.
Of course there were those not financially able enough to employ the services of those who established themselves in the more recognized kitchens in Etzos which made the Kettle, and by extension, its new Aukari cook their next best choice. These were the people F'mos wanted when he offered to cook their Razorfins, for nothing except a share of the fish and full control of any that reached the kitchen. He did not care much for the meat itself, instead, being able to do as he liked with the fish. Including keeping whatever was left which could not be served.
Those which did not know the true value of the fish, did not need to be convinced by the Aukari as they saw no problem with his conditions. Those which did not care, the Aukari believed had no use for the other purpose of the Razorfins. Not himself though. He knew what he needed the Razorfins for, if he had them in his kitchen. F'mos did not consider himself to have cheated these people as they were still getting what they wanted. If they were harvesting the oil of any Razorfins, they would have made use of someone other than a chef. In addition to making sure the oil is what they had asked for.
Although a chef is exactly what someone would need if they were going to cook a Razorfin. The difficulty, as F'mos had found out in his first few fishes, even someone as practiced as him was any Razorfin's own...razored fin. Not only would someone wanting to cook the Razorfin have to be careful with his own knife, he had to take care of the fish's own natural blade which was just as sharp. Of course it was entirely possible for a cook which did not want to take the risk of slicing into himself to take some time. To wait until the second dorsal fin softened, but there was a trade off.
There was always a trade off and any cook which had worked with fish, any fish, for even a little bit would know it. To the Aukari, the precaution to lessen that risk of cutting himself was not worth it. To compromise the freshness of any fish any further than after he had already gotten his hands on it, when he had no reason to delay in its preparations, was an inexcusable wrong in itself. Which was why the fish was already with him in the kitchen as soon as it had reached his hands at the Kettle.
Of course the Kettle had a whole selection of tools he could have used, but F'mos only trusted such delicate work with his own. The set he had brought with him from Sirothelle. Despite his beliefs on time when it came to the fish, he still left the fish on the board in front of him for some thrills. Enough that it could even have been bits as the Razorfin lost its freshness. It was not fear, like it had been in the attempt after he first bled because of the fish. It was caution, as he did not want to allow his burning blood to ruin the integrity of the meat.
He needed that time to compose himself. To focus himself on the task before him. As he did, the slab of meat which lay on the board in front of his eyes soon had images about it. The images of how he imagined his attempt would go, as he saw the mistakes which may happen, how he could avoid them. Then, a deep breath. Slowly the Aukari traced the images he had seen. His motions smooth and mechanical. Only stopping when the shivering in his hands prevented him from being able to continue, unless he ignored the risk of damaging the hard to obtain meat he was working on.
A cut along the stomach, from the front to the first fin, a slab of flesh was removed. Stuck on the top of a jar where the oil would slowly drip into. A result of various trials over the season, for what F'mos assumed was the source of the desired substance. And then after he made sure none of the oil remained on his hands, he cut out the second fin in an even slower and more cautious manner. As it would not be fit for anything else except as a memento to the person who brought in the fish, it was tossed to the side unless it was requested for.
And once his work with the Razorfin was complete, it was just like any other fish. Gutted, cleaned and sliced up, the Aukari unceremoniously dumped it into a pot where it will be steamed with some spices and vegetables. The wafting aroma caused impatient shouts for the fish from its owner out front. The cook gave the man what he wanted, his own share being thrown into the Kettle's pot. It was quite amusing that over the past few trials, there were customers which wanted these leftovers more than the stew prepared for lunch. While F'mos had boasted he was responsible for the new taste, he was going to keep the details of its preparation his own secret. Even from his employers.
