The one who brought the bowl of noodles was a large, rough-handed woman wearing a spotless white apron.
Despite her tidy appearance, it was obvious she was a commoner who'd spent most of her life working in the fields.
Bichir Tavern was the largest tavern in Lannisport, catering exclusively to powerful merchants, wealthy nobles, landed knights, and aristocrats.
Lord Auren was a frequent customer and knew the head chefs well, he even had a designated cook who typically prepared his meals.
But this woman who'd made the noodles? Lord Auren had never seen her before.
The noodles were steaming hot and gave off a delightful aroma, one he had never smelled before.
"Who are you?" Lord Auren asked.
"My lord." the tavern owner quickly stepped forward with a fawning smile, "she's a noodle master sent from Clegane's Keep. Her name is Alik. Her husband, Blackstone, is a standard-bearer in Ser Gregor's cavalry."
"Oh?" Lord Auren raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Alik?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Ser Gregor sent someone to Bichir just to make noodles?"
"Only for two days, my lord." Alik replied calmly, showing none of the nervous deference typical of peasants in the presence of nobility.
Lord Auren found the woman unexpectedly bold, but then again, it made sense. To serve under the Mountain, one couldn't afford to be timid.
Though Alik was plain-looking, she had a sturdy build, broad hips, large hands, and strong feet. He couldn't help but wonder how many times the Mountain had taken her after a few too many drinks. Gregor Clegane was the kind of brute who'd bed any woman when drunk, regardless of looks.
"Two days?" Lord Auren looked at her. "Why?"
"My lord, Clegane-style noodles are completely different from what we're used to. The tavern chefs didn't know how to cook them properly, so we came to teach them. The first day we cook while they watch, and the second day they cook while we supervise."
"I see." Lord Auren picked up the chopsticks, and noticed the emblem of House Clegane engraved on them. "These chopsticks, are they yours too?"
"Yes, my lord. Although Lord Tywin has issued an edict across the Westerlands to replace forks and knives with chopsticks, there's a six-month grace period to allow people to adapt. Nobles are used to forks, so to make it easier for them to enjoy the noodles, we brought some Clegane chopsticks along. They work much better with thin noodles, my lord."
Lord Auren narrowed his eyes.
Gregor Clegane had become… meticulous? Methodical? That was new. He was beginning to seem far more capable than Aurenhad once thought.
Lord Auren was reminded of the famed Bloodraven, the Lord with "a thousand and one eyes."
"Was this arrangement Ser Gregor's idea?"
"It was suggested by Lady Jeyne at the council meeting. Ser Gregor approved and sent us here."
Jeyne Westerling, famous throughout the Westerlands for her intelligence and refinement.
Carefully raised by House Westerling as a lady of both talent and grace, her reputation only soared after she was adopted by Lord Tywin.
It didn't surprise Lord Auren in the slightest that someone like her would think of such a plan.
What a waste, he thought with a pang of regret.
That a woman like Jeyne had married Gregor Clegane was a tragedy.
Her only flaw was her mother's background, she was the daughter of a spice merchant.
Otherwise, with her beauty and intellect, Jeyne could've married into one of the great Westerlands houses, perhaps even into the Lannisters of Casterly Rock, maybe Kevan Lannister's household.
Auren sighed quietly for her.
"How many of you came, Alik?"
"Ten, my lord. Our first batch of noodles is being sold exclusively to ten selected taverns."
Oh!
They were thorough, clearly another one of Jeyne's calculated ideas.
"Do all Clegane women know how to make these noodles?"
"Yes, my lord."
"How do you cook them?"
"First, heat oil in the pot. Add sea salt, spices, and seasonings and fry them for aroma. Then pour in boiling water. Once it comes back to a boil, add the noodles. Let it come to a simmer on medium heat. Once the noodles start rolling, toss in fresh greens for fragrance. Then serve immediately, my lord."
Lord Auren raised his eyebrows.
Boiling water for noodles? That was a new one.
They'd always used cold water, never waiting for it to boil before adding the noodles.
This method from Clegane's Keep was something none of his household cooks had ever tried.
Greens to enhance the aroma? He'd always assumed flavor came entirely from spices.
Yet the bowl had no greens, just finely chopped meats and a glossy yellow oil. The fragrance was incredible, mouthwatering even before the first bite.
But Lord Auren was a noble, a noble Lord, raised with proper etiquette. He wouldn't lose composure just because of food.
"And the greens?"
"They're scooped out and served in a separate bowl. After finishing the noodles, my lord can eat the greens to cleanse the palate."
Lord Auren raised his brows again. Alik's explanation was eye-opening.
Who would've thought… after eating noodles for decades, that there was still so much to learn?
Time to try.
Though the conversation had been long in words, in reality it had only taken a short moment.
Closing his eyes, Lord Auren took in the aroma. Saliva gathered on his tongue.
He was already skilled with chopsticks. He picked up a mouthful of noodles,
"My lord may want to blow on it a little." Alik advised.
The oil retained heat well.
He blew gently, then took the first bite.
A brand-new texture, nothing like what he'd ever eaten before.
Delicate yet refreshing, smooth and flavorful, an extraordinary experience.
Under the watchful eyes of several soldiers, the tavern owner, the kitchen staff, and servants, Lord Auren finished the large bowl in no time.
Then he drank every last drop of the broth.
"Bring me the greens to try." he said, gracefully setting down his chopsticks.
A small half-bowl of greens was brought over, still steaming. They had been kept warm in a separate light broth, free of oil and meat, pure vegetable essence.
He ate them, and his eyes lit up. A few beads of sweat appeared on his nose.
"Another bowl of greens," he ordered.
The noodles, filled with meats and oils, followed by a half-bowl of crisp, clean greens, this was, quite simply, the finest taste he'd ever experienced.
"No more, my lord." said Alik. "Any more would ruin the flavor. The greens and soup taste best in small portions. Without the oily noodles beforehand, they wouldn't be as refreshing."
Lord Auren set his chopsticks down. The tavern owner immediately handed him a rinse bowl and a clean, white napkin.
He truly wanted another bowl, but his noble demeanor held him back.
Besides, he'd arrived at the tavern already full. Now, he was completely stuffed.
"How much for a bowl of these noodles?"
"Two copper stars, my lord."
Two copper stars, not copper pennies. That was expensive, roughly equivalent to 96 yuan.
Still, Bichir Tavern was the finest in the city, serving only the wealthiest of clients.
Lord Auren tossed down a silver stag and said:
"I'm buying this tavern. You'll manage it for me. Renovate it into 'Clegane Noodle House.'"
He didn't even glance at the tavern owner's stunned face.
When nobles got serious, they were a hundred times more ruthless than beasts.
"Ser Bard." he called out, "go inform all the tavern owners selling these noodles, they are to send every unsold bowl here. No one else is selling them."
"Yes, my lord!" Ser Bard left immediately.
Lord Auren turned to the equally stunned Alik.
"Alik, don't cook here anymore. Come back to Clegane with me, I need to discuss something important with Ser Gregor."
Alik gave a small gasp but didn't move.
Lord Auren smiled. "Alik, if I offered you a gold dragon per month, would you come to King's Landing as the head chef for Clegane Noodles?"
A gold dragon per month?!
To Alik, that was a dreamlike fortune. Her heart pounded.
"My lord… I would need to seek Ser Gregor's permission."
"Fair enough." Lord Auren nodded graciously.
"Alik, in King's Landing, a bowl like this could easily sell for a silver stag, and there still wouldn't be enough supply.
Those noble lords, governors, princes from across the Narrow Sea, the merchant kings and sea captains from every corner of the world, they don't see a difference between copper pennies and gold dragons.
If you agree to go, I'll personally speak to Ser Gregor for you."
A silver stag per bowl?
Thirty bowls would equal a gold dragon. Selling just thirty bowls was like mining gold.
Could it really be that easy to make money off the wealthy of King's Landing? Alik couldn't fathom it.
She was stunned.
But if she knew how those princes, governors, and merchant lords spent money in brothels and taverns, how they could blow ten gold dragons in a single night like it was nothing, she wouldn't have doubted it for a second.
Compared to the wild spending of the truly rich, one silver stag per bowl of noodles was barely worth mentioning.
Alik's imagination had been thoroughly limited by poverty.
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