He picked up the food in front of him.
Oh, not bad. That's a pretty distinctive plate.
It wasn't a fine porcelain plate, but a shallow earthenware bowl fired from red clay, with rugged patterns and a rather distinctive shape.
A handmade work of art? Looks like one of those odd little things sold at street stalls in my previous life.
The food in the bowl looked surprisingly appetizing.
At first glance, it looked remarkably like fried rice, with dark red bits of dried meat, bright green cubes of some unknown vegetable, and black spice grains toasted to fragrant perfection mixed into the golden main ingredient.
In the firelight, it glistened with oil and gave off a rich aroma.
Cui Ciyou knew it couldn't be rice.
As far as he knew, rice was only grown on a large scale in the Dragon King Kingdom, with its humid climate and abundant resources.
Besides, the climate of the Begaritt Continent wasn't suitable for growing rice.
The main ingredient in this bowl was an extremely drought-resistant crop unique to Begaritt.
Perhaps it could be called something like "sand millet" or "rock wheat."
Once dried and ground, its texture probably fell somewhere between millet and corn grits.
The stall owner had stir-fried this sand millet and the chopped ingredients over high heat on that enormous iron griddle, giving it this fried-rice-like appearance.
Cooked another way, such as boiled in water, the stuff would turn into an indistinct bowl of mush.
The food was tempting, but there was a problem.
Cui Ciyou looked at the earthenware bowl, then at his empty hands.
"Boss, where are the utensils?"
The middle-aged stall owner was busy serving another table. At the question, he called back without even turning around, as though the answer were obvious:
"Utensils? What utensils?