Delicacy Novels & Stories

Her smirk fell quickly from her face as she gave him the finger, the very mark of a smart person. "Jerk!" The woman made a point of loudly resorting to name calling, which he found rather funny considering no one could hear it above the music which was her obvious intention to ward off any potential woman within ear shot. He chuckled, he was always grateful for one such willing dinner piece. The shift in the atmosphere alerted him to the fact that his piece was on the move. He sensed a new presence around hers, even from where he was sitting it was a strong one. The time to move was now, he realized he could wait no longer to closely scope things out, observing, he was threatened by the

the magically appearing waiter said as he refilled my water glass. "Thank you." As we stood, Mother reached for my hand and squeezed. "Dear, when I decided to visit you, I decided to share more than that story with you. Please give me time." I squeezed her hand back and nodded. The volume of the room increased as we made our way toward the buffet. Live entertainment crooned as chefs manned the many tables. Artesian breads, bagels, and rolls were just the beginning. There was a raw bar with tuna tartare and sushi, as well as an assortment of oysters, mussels, and crab. Traditional breakfast foods such as waffles, grits, potatoes, and eggs were also present. The dessert bar was too decadent to

Tessa took hers wordlessly. Jamie scanned the list and grinned. “Ooh! Duck à l’Orange. Is that like an actual delicacy? Sounds fancy. I’m getting that.” Camila raised a brow. “You can’t even pronounce it. Say it again?” “Duck… ahh… loranj,” Jamie said, trying and failing to sound sophisticated. “Please,” Camila scoffed. “Every time we eat out, you want to always try something fancy, then end up begging for plain rice and sauce when the food doesn’t align with your tastebud. Stop pretending to be bougie.”

Delicious food steamed on the plates and the goblets filled with purple wine as rich as nectar. There was a civet of hare, a quarter of lamb which had been a night in salt, a stuffed goose with garlic, and a loin of veal with red onions and honey. Psyche looked on in amazement as another myriad of dishes came to fill the table. Dessert was brought in; gilt sugar-plums, and pomegranate seeds, then an enormous pie, surmounted with smaller pies, which formed a crown. The crust of the large pies was gold-gilded all round and frosted at the top. The serving-maids were invisible, and she could merely hear their words emerging from thin air.

After some hesitation, she said, "I see. We'll set it aside for now, then. This is a local delicacy in Grand City. You can't even buy this with money." "Thanks; I appreciate it," replied Harvey, feeling the pressure. He had no choice but to get himself a bowl of oats with milk and slowly eat it. Harvey was worried Vaida might add something special to the oats or milk, but after eating, he realized there was nothing weird in it. It was just delicious. If food also had realms, while this was not at the level of a True Warrior, it was definitely at the level of a King of Arms. That was something that Harvey found surprising.

“Is there a problem, guest?” “A problem?” My voice was ice. “I paid a fortune for this ‘retreat.’ And you’re serving me… this?” I gestured at the platters, my fingers itching to flip them into the sand. His expression tightened, the smile becoming a grimace. “This is our island’s premier delicacy. Reserved for our most valued guests. All the other guests seem to be enjoying it.” I looked.

Pear in red wine. Each word is traced with calligraphic precision. Each dish chosen to please, to impress, to celebrate. No one will know that the hand that wrote it trembled internally with hatred. No one will see that behind the hostess's smile hides the cold rictus of a general who has just declared war.

During dessert, Leo caught her looking and got a smug grin as they worked on their chocolate souffles. “I did pretty well if I do say so myself. I picked it up all by my lonesome too. The pushy jeweler kept trying to entice me to buy some gawdy monstrosity. But there is a beauty and elegance in its simplicity.” Amber giggled in between a forced bite of her dessert. She felt as though she would burst now, though not from happiness. The scallops, ravioli, cod, and deer meat sat heavily in her bloated paunch. But here in France, leaving food on a plate was seen in bad taste. And leaving chocolate behind was like a cardinal sin in her books.

She declared solemnly, “She requests a dish… ah yes, the ‘Honeyed Moon Delight.’” The Master blinked, repeating it slowly, “Honeyed… Moon Delight?” “Exactly,” Elia said with a serious nod. He frowned, muttering, “Honey Moon Delight… Never heard of such a thing, but wait here, I’ll check the recipe shelf.” As he turned his back, Anana watching from the window had to bite her knuckles to stop her laughter as Elia fought to keep a straight face. The moment the Master disappeared behind a pantry door, Elia darted forward, snatched a steaming loaf from the counter, and slipped it under her cloak. She looked up at the window, eyes gleaming in triumph, and mouthed, “Told you I could do it.”

Collins cut in, his eyes fixed on his meal, “I'd do that for my wife if it makes her happy.” My wife, my wife, my wife. Tammie couldn't understand why that word alone made her heart tingle. She bit her lower lips, “Mr Blackwood, you're something.” Her eyes were fixed on him now, scrutinizing all the minute details. The way he held his spoon, his posture, and the way his jaw moved. “God, I'm so drunk.” she blurted out, her heart beating erratically. She couldn't stop staring, appreciating the Greek god sitting a few meters away.