The morning sun beamed through the wooden windows of Noura's eatery, casting warm rays on the tables neatly arranged by Lira before the dawn rush. The aroma of fried shallots, lemongrass, and simmering broth danced in the air. Mika, already up and running, greeted a pair of travelers with a shy smile as they entered the stall.
"Two servings of Karile Fried Chicken, please!" one of them said, plopping into a chair, already salivating.
Noura smiled from behind the counter, her spatula moving in practiced rhythm over the fire. Her kitchen had become an orchestra of spices, heat, and laughter. She glanced toward the back, where a fresh batch of ginsara roots and kari leaves waited to be chopped.
The small eatery was bustling, not with chaos, but with joy. Villagers now brought their visiting relatives here first. Traders, adventurers, and even a few traveling bards had made it a point to dine at Noura's table. The once-silent square near the well was alive.
But good things, Noura had learned, often attracted shadows.
It began with laughter. Not the kind that warmed the heart, but sharp, mocking cackles that cut through the comfort of the morning crowd.
Five teenagers strutted into the eatery, dressed in mismatched armor and dusty boots. Their leader, a lanky boy with a sneer permanently etched on his face, eyed the chalkboard menu.
"So this is the famous stall?" he said, voice loud enough to silence the room. "Doesn't look like much."
Mika shrank behind the counter.
Lira approached them with her usual grace. "Welcome. Would you like to try our special today?"
The lanky boy grabbed a wooden spoon from the table and sniffed it theatrically. "Smells like overcooked roots and boiled socks."
His friends howled with laughter.
"Please," Lira said, voice strained but steady, "you're free to leave if this isn't to your taste."
One of the boys tipped over a small plate of pickled radishes.
Noura stepped out from behind the kitchen, wiping her hands. "Is there a problem?"
The leader shrugged. "Just wondering how this little shack stole all the customers from our village's inn. Maybe it's the herbs. Or maybe just a magic trick."
His eyes lingered on the glowing kitchen knife beside Noura's stove. Her enchanted blade, a gift from the divine, shimmered faintly.
They left soon after, leaving behind laughter and broken pottery.
That night, the scent of smoke clung to the air. Noura woke to the sound of something crashing.
She ran to the back kitchen. The door was ajar.
Inside, chaos.
The jar of pickled acairis lay shattered on the floor. Ginsara roots were strewn everywhere, crushed beneath boot prints. Her precious stash of kari leaves, carefully dried and stored in paper, was gone.
Pots had been kicked over. A basin of semur stock had been poured out onto the floor.
Lira arrived seconds later, gasping. "Noura... it's all—they destroyed it."
Mika peeked from the doorway, eyes wide.
Noura knelt among the mess, her fingers tracing the wet floor. Anger and sorrow rose in her chest, threatening to boil over.
Word spread quickly. By morning, half the village had gathered at her stall.
A wrinkled farmer placed a hand on Noura's shoulder. "I've seen their kind. The boys come from Hillshade. Their inn hasn't had a full table in weeks."
"So they're trying to scare her away?" another man asked.
Lira crossed her arms. "They broke our pots. They crossed the line."
Noura stood quietly, her apron still stained from last night's disaster.
Memories flickered—the long hours she spent cleaning scraps, the trials of her early failures, and the warm faces of villagers who embraced her meals.
She almost said, Maybe I should stop.
But then Mika ran up, dragging a bag. "We brought this!"
Inside were fresh eggs, lemongrass, two squashes, and a small bundle of ginsara roots.
"Mother said you can borrow our herbs," said a little girl, clutching a clump of ginger like a treasure.
Others joined in. A carpenter offered to fix the kitchen door. The miller's wife brought flour. A traveling hunter placed a smoked fish on the counter.
Noura blinked away tears. "Alright. Let's cook."
Using the remnants and the gifts, Noura devised something new. She called it Rempah-Stuffed Rice Cakes with Kari Sauce.
Each rice cake, soft and fragrant, was stuffed with shredded chicken spiced with ginsara and acairis. The kari sauce was velvety and golden, made from coconut milk, turmeric, and a generous helping of kari leaves salvaged from the morning market.
Rempah-Stuffed Rice Cakes (Kuah Kari)
Serves: 4-6
Prep Time: 30 mins
Cook Time: 45 mins
Ingredients:
For the Rice Cakes (Lemper / Ketupat Palas):
400g glutinous rice (soaked for 2 hours, then steamed until half-cooked)
200ml coconut milk
1 tsp salt
2 pandan leaves (knotted)
Banana leaves (for wrapping, lightly wilted over flame)
For the Spiced Filling (Rempah):
150g chicken breast (shredded, cooked) or jackfruit for vegetarian
3 shallots
2 cloves garlic
1 lemongrass (white part only)
1 tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp coriander powder
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp fennel seeds
1/2 tsp white pepper
1 tbsp oil
Salt & sugar to taste
For the Kari (Curry) Sauce:
400ml coconut milk
2 tbsp curry powder (Malay/Indian-style)
1 stalk lemongrass (bruised)
3 kaffir lime leaves
1 inch galangal (sliced)
1 tbsp tamarind paste (mixed with 50ml water)
1 potato (cubed, boiled until tender)
1/2 cup fried tofu (optional)
Salt & sugar to taste
Spice Paste (Blended):
5 shallots
3 cloves garlic
1 inch ginger
2 red chilies (adjust to taste)
1 tsp shrimp paste (belacan, toasted)
Instructions:
Prepare the Rice Cakes:
Steam soaked glutinous rice for 15 mins until half-cooked. In a pot, heat coconut milk, salt, and pandan leaves until warm. Mix into the rice.Steam again for 20 mins until fully cooked. Set aside.
Make the Spiced Filling (Rempah):
Blend shallots, garlic, lemongrass, and dry spices into a paste.Heat oil, sauté paste until fragrant. Add shredded chicken (or jackfruit), season with salt & sugar. Cook until dry. Set aside.
Assemble Stuffed Rice Cakes:
Flatten a portion of rice (~2 tbsp) on banana leaf.Add 1 tsp filling in the center, wrap into a rectangular parcel.Grill or steam briefly to set the shape (~5 mins).
Prepare Kari Sauce:
Blend spice paste ingredients until smooth.Heat oil, sauté paste until fragrant. Add curry powder, lemongrass, galangal, and kaffir lime leaves.Pour in coconut milk, tamarind water, and potatoes. Simmer until thickened.Adjust seasoning with salt & sugar. Add fried tofu if using.
Serve:
Unwrap rice cakes and place on a plate.Pour warm kari sauce over or serve on the side.Garnish with fried shallots & cilantro.
Tips:
For extra richness, add coconut cream to the curry.
Substitute chicken with beef or mushrooms for variation.
If banana leaves are unavailable, shape rice cakes into cylinders and pan-fry for a crispy version.
As they served it, the dish became a symbol.
"Made from broken pieces," Noura told a customer, "but held together with flavor."
By afternoon, customers returned. Not just the regulars, but strangers too—drawn by the rumors of what had happened.
"We heard about the break-in," said a traveling merchant. "Had to come see if the food still stood tall."
It did.
And it burned brighter.
Near sunset, a man arrived in a cloak bearing the emblem of Hillshade. He introduced himself as the assistant to the village council.
"We regret the actions of certain unsupervised youths," he said, clearly rehearsed. "But perhaps it would be better for peace if your eatery restricted service to local residents only."
Noura met his eyes. Calm, but firm.
"My kitchen is open to everyone. But if someone wants to compete," she said, gesturing to the steaming trays behind her, "let them do it with food, not fear."
The man left, unsmiling.
That night, the last customer trickled out under the flicker of lantern light.
Lira leaned on the counter. "You know what I learned today?"
"What?"
"You can't burn flavor. You can try, but it rises like steam."
Mika giggled. "And you can't break a kitchen that has friends."
Noura laughed, her heart full.
Then she noticed something tucked under the sugar jar.
A note.
It read:
You're not the only outsider who cooks with fire from another world.
She froze.
A thrill ran down her spine.
Was it a joke? Or a message? Who left it?
She looked to the window, to the shadows outside, and for a moment—just a flicker—she thought she saw someone in a worn traveling cloak watching from the woods.
Then he was gone.
But the fire in her kitchen burned brighter than ever.
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