Novel & Cerita Ancient Foodie Survival Guide

A moment later, Diana and Andrew have been used to their private chamber and have freshened up. The cave residents laid out quite an expanse before Andrew’s return. Though they lived in a belowground community, Cavin’s cavemen were adept at prospering fruits and vegetables in secret gardens in the foothills within walking range of their dwelling. They scatter an extravagant feast before the exhausted visitors. Competent hunters strengthened the production with mountain deer, goats, and cows. Anything with hair, they could grab and kill. Andrew smiled at the finding that even though they were separated from the rest of the Enlightenment, they still tended to make beer and wine. The drink of t

She looked at what was written and gave the doctor a small smile. Her ragged her was in front of her, she unzipped it and slid the paper inside. “Thank you. I memorized everything. I will use the paper to light fires. Thank you for more survival tools,” she said in a small but calm voice. Ed chuckled and patted her on the back. “So, you won’t take my advice,” he said. “Just make sure to drink water and have loads of protein. What do you usually eat?” he asked.

The grapes were a good start, but he knew that would not keep him alive for long. “I have to remember everything mother told me to do in the wild. Eat fiddlehead ferns, if I can find any. Maple sap and walnuts, if I can find those trees around here; wild cucumbers.” Yvayn kicked the ground and noticed some old paving stones under a layer of leaves and dirt. Now he knew the road was old and forgotten. “Well, Termâs, what would you do? What about you, Velsusi? Lyora? Father? Jullious?”

My fingers were covered in grease as I scooped up the mashed potatoes, barely pausing to swallow between bites. Having access to this much delicious food brought genuine tears to my eyes. My mind briefly flashed back to my past life during the apocalypse, where I had survived on moldy scraps and rotten garbage—items that people actively killed each other to obtain. Back then, survival meant choosing between being slaughtered by monsters or slowly starving to death in the dirt. I stuffed another piece of meat into my mouth, chewing aggressively.

The juices running across the plate. My mouth watered instantly. "Is that..." I started, my voice trailing off. "For you," Evander said simply. "I thought you might be hungry." Hungry did not even begin to cover it. I had been surviving on dry rations for months. Hard bread. Dried meat. Water. Nothing fresh. Nothing warm. Nothing like this. Without thinking, I moved to the table, sat down and reached for the knife and fork. My hands were shaking slightly as I cut into the steak.

“We’ll see. If he makes it through the next few weeks of Ancient Rome without fainting, he might be the one.” That made me grin even wider. The Ancient Roman menu had been my passion project for months, and now it was finally coming to life. Clay pots, brass goblets, roasted meats on wooden platters, honeyed ricotta pastries—the whole thing was rich, bold, and a little dangerous. Exactly the kind of story I loved telling through food.

Life on the battlefield didn’t leave much room for preferences. Most of their meals were built around ingredients that could survive for weeks or even months without going bad. Potatoes, flour, preserved meats, dried vegetables, and similar supplies made up the bulk of their diet. Since there wasn’t much variety to work with, the cooks were forced to get creative, preparing the same ingredients in different ways to stop the warriors from growing completely sick of their food.

My gaze fell to the chaos spread across my desk. Receipts. Market forecasts. Shipping manifests. Lists upon lists of survival necessities. Heirloom seeds. Freeze-resistant livestock. Industrial generators. Antibiotics. Water purification systems. Solar batteries. Fuel reserves. Medical-grade insulation. Underground ventilation systems. The numbers were horrifying. I rubbed my temple, exhaustion clawing at my skull. I had spent the entire night calculating costs and inventory projections, cross-referencing what humanity had run out of first during the first collapse. Food had failed in six days.

“I wasn’t aware that the surface dwellers still use plastic instead of seaweed packets that would dissolve in water. It was my mistake.” I chuckled, “Skyr, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” “I was supposed to make cook something, but given our lack of ingredients and time, I couldn’t make any.” I looked at him with a raised brow, “You know how to cook?” “Of course. When you’re out in the field or living alone, you should know how to cook for yourself. Giving yourself the right nutrition even when you’re out in the field can help with muscle growth and keep your body healthy.”

Before I could protest, he pulled the heavy wooden chair from the corner and dropped into it right beside me. "A predator cannot hunt on an empty stomach," he scolded, his voice a low rumble. "Look, I’ve combined ancient grains, dried venison, and river trout into these small travel-spheres. They are bite-sized. You can track your borders with one hand and feed yourself with the other. It won't stall your momentum."