#267
Café Suicide
Part Three
The story of cooking is as much of a twisted into knots
story as that of science. I personal see cooking as the first science being one-part
chemistry, and one-part biology. I like to put on my cowboy boots, my “Badass
over here” apron, and cook when I’m feeling low.
The oddest thing, well outside of that last bit, and outside
of me writing about historical cooking, is the untold until now story of
Matalan Cake.
Here’s a story about a certain cake recipe for the best cake
any human being has ever, will ever, from this world to other realities,
experienced.
Others cry thinking about the animals we don’t have around
today to watch in their living splendor. I think what would a dinosaur burger
taste like. Don’t blame me Veggie Nazis, blame The Flintstones.
About let’s say twenty thousand years ago a man was cooking
a meal for his family and also for sale to his neighbors in the little shop he
had setup to for barter because everyone loved his cooking. He might even have
been the first cook to do so. To set up a little shop and make things to eat to
sale to other people.
But of all his nice dishes the favorite by mounds as in by
lengths it was the favorite to the point he at a point stopped trading anything
else but cake so this is in fact the first cake shop.
The origin of the modern cake begins with the Vikings and
the word kaka.
Don’t.
I mean.
Don’t
Early cakes were simply bread and later fruits were added to
recipes and sugar was used and then really later stuff like icing entered the
picture but the cake recipe in this story is way in the past before the Vikings
ever sailed the seas or stupid people started thinking they had horns on their
helmets.
The first little shop cook he got his recipe from a Faire
because Faire’s invented sweets. I hope you know that. It’s a known well fact
so let’s move past how good and bad your early Faire education may be.
The recipe was a gift in return from an incident when the
cook rescued a male faire from a very angry mate after a quarrel broke out over
whether or not they should go to Jupiter for a quick getaway or just stay at
home and shot arrows and play flutes.
The cake recipe was of royal descent and was in fact just
bread but with added to the bread also a very special plant no longer around in
modern times, well except for a small garden behind a Miami café, it has been
wiped from the face of the Earth.
The plant was called Matalan. The word has survived to today
even if the plant was wiped out from overharvesting and not enough replanting.
The plant is named after an old Faire king who is said to
have taken the fruit from the Greek Gods in battle after Hercules insulted one
of his wives.
These weren’t any fragile Fairies.
Matalan tastes… tasted like coconut milk soaked pineapple
slices. The simple fact was it didn’t just go good with bread. You add Matalan
to just about anything and it would taste great. You add it to shit and shit
wouldn’t taste like shit anymore.
Keeping it classy.
The reason why you don’t have Matalan in every store today
is because it was one of the first plants to be abused as a drug by the masses.
Within a year from when the first cook set up his little shop people started
breaking into his shop when they couldn’t afford to trade him anything for a cake
or even a slice of cake.
The cook had gotten to the point he had to sale off one of
his daughters to a local blacksmith to have better bolts and stuffs installed.
The need for better security is a really old concept.
Addiction on the other hand is a relatively new concept but
that doesn’t mean it hasn’t always been a part of the human condition for a
really really long time.
What is completely new is someone being addicted to soda.
Guy with two thumbs that is me, is.
The local king got word of a cake which had a taste that
seemed to come from the Gods, word came from some of his men. He half thought
these men were just not use to tasting good things until they come to work for
the king and had gold placed in their hands but they insisted this was like no
other food on the planet.
They found out about the cake while out collecting taxes. On
their next trip out, which was the next week, the men brought back a slice for
their king.
The king ate the slice of cake and went to spasms of
delight. His silks were sodden and drool poured down from his mouth. His eyes
rolled and his court jester died of a heart attack thinking he was seeing his
king in the throes of Death himself.
Others in the throne room were along this line of thinking
also. They wondered if the cake had been poisoned. Had this all along been a
plot to get the king off the throne. Some of them pictured what it would be
like without their king, who could be the next king, would they be blamed
somehow for this??
The king’s advisor called for the courts wizard but the king
came out of his bliss state to wave off this request for help and ordered the
cook be brought to him right away. The kingdoms fastest horse would be ridden
by the best rider in the court and along with an escort they would bring this
marvel maker to them.
The cook was pulled from his kitchen and brought to stand
before the king. The village where the cooks little shop was breaking out into
a riot as he was whisked away.
Once thrown down at the king’s feet the king told the cook
his shop would be closed and he would live and cook only within the king’s
walls for only the king’s use and to prove his power to do such a thing he
ordered the beheading of the cook’s family.
There were riots in the territories of the king as truth
spread that the king would only allow the cook to make cake for him. The masses
had so much anger in their hearts over not having the cake they loved in some
instances they killed their own families in their sleep frustrated they
couldn’t do the same to the greedy king. It had been taken from them and they
wanted it back. They wanted to taste the gratification, the wish fulfillment,
the beauty once again.
Addiction isn’t a false feeling at all. The elation and
seventh heaven you can get from a drug or coming from any addiction is real but
at what toll and the price grows higher with each taste.
Hearing about these acts of rebellion and feeling threatened
at losing his cake the king closed off his walls to anyone entering or leaving.
His fortress stronghold that was a master head of his kingdom was now solely a
prison to his pleasures to continue to taste the cake.
Within a month everyone within the king’s walls was dead of
an overdose or had dead trying to get cake when it had been denied to them.
The masses broke through the kings walls in time, when they
were lacking in defense, to find the king and his entire circle dead. There was
no sight of the cook or any of his cake.
The masses charged out into the world looking for more
Matalan which after finding the first cooks recipe they found was the main
ingredient. They killed and burned everyone they believed were in their way of
finding the Matalan they craved.
Some say this is where the term mania comes from.
It’s not.
Just a little writer bullshit from me.
Mank brought Shane over another piece of cake and with him
trailing behind was a teenage girl dressed in a mixture of toga and geek girl
manner.
The teenage girl stood silent beside Mank but she was
looking at Shane with a mischief in thinking smile on her face.
‘You might want to hear this ladies story,’ Mank directed at
Shane as he placed the plate on the table in front of him.
The girl sat down with Shane. She found something
fascinating about him. It wasn’t on the surface, it was under his skin and
though most people couldn’t see it she could. No wonder Mank pointed him out to
her.
Shane looked up at the young woman and addressed her choice
of dress, ‘Did you know the reason futurnatees originally started to do toga
parties had little to do with Greek frat lines. It was because it made it
easier to rape drunken party guests.’
A female mer person, of the large group of mer people in the
table next to Shane’s, leaned into his table area and asked, ‘Is that true?’
‘No,’ Shane stated like a very flat delivered punch line.
The teenage girl pushed the mer female out of the way with a
pie faced hand maneuver and turned back to Shane, ‘My name is Helen.’
Shane found himself looking into Helen’s eyes.
‘You certainly are sure of yourself aren’t you?’ Shane said
knowing this to be the total of truth.
‘I can stand in my footsteps pretty firmly,’ Helen
‘Anything I can do for you besides staring into your eyes?’
Shane
‘I hear you recently came across some former property of
mine,’ Helen informed him.
Shane scratches the side of his neck. He’s thinking this
cake might contain something he is allergic to because his skins starting to
itch a little.
‘My job is being paid by a very rich man to obtain objects
that don’t belong to him. You will have to be more specific because I’m done a
lot of raiding.’
‘The Armor Of Achilles,’ Helen told him.
Shane leaned back in his chair a few inches and smiled, ‘Oh,
I get it, Helen plus Achilles. Cleaver.’
‘Not really, just there as fact,’ Helen
Shane leaned forward across the table and was met there by
Helen doing the same.
‘So you want the armor back?’ Shane asked.
‘Not really. I want you to use it. Don’t waste your life in
servitude and despair. You can become a part of the great mythology,’ Helen
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we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people
just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.
An Original Publication of System* Publishing,
a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a
division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events
or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much
so in the coincidental.
Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2015, Brian
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Written by Brian C. Williams
Edited by Brian C. Williams
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