Beers and Beards

Chapter 16: Coddled



Chapter 16: Coddled

“I’m goin in to check on her.” said Wreck. She opened the door and stepped inside. The rest of us moved to go in as well but Wreck spun around and firmly shut the door in our faces. “Alone!” she hissed as the door closed. “Opal doesn’t need a bunch of gawkers!”

The rest of us stood around bereft for a moment.

“How bad is it?” Sam broke the silence.

“A slight fever, but nothin really bad.” Bran replied.

Phew! I had been worried about her since Bran looked so down. I guess in a world with magical healing and God given Doctors, illness isn’t as scary. Of course, being sick sucked no matter what. There was something I was curious about though. I posed the question to Sam, since he seemed to be most likely to know.

“Couldn’t she just get the Healer to fix her? What was his name, Bastion?”

“Aye, she could.” Sam nodded. “It would be expensive though. Not worth it for a common cold. Healers are always busy. She’ll be better before he even has time to see her.”

That made sense. Even in our world you wouldn’t go to the doctor for the common cold. Well, unless it got really bad, or your 2-year-old was up all night with hacking coughs. I felt a little melancholy at that. I haven’t really thought of Caroline and Samantha recently. I guess that’s why I got the Blessing for my “spirit adapting fully” or whatever. I do still miss my family, but I just don’t have time to dwell on it. I have a new family, new goals, and I had no real regrets from my last life.

“So, what’ll she do? Is there anyone watchin over her?” Sam asked. “No need to leave her alone, eh?”

“She said that she’d be fine. I tried goin in, but I know nothin about helpin sick folk.” Bran said, a note of depression in his voice. “She said ‘I’m the Doctor here Bran, I’ll be fine.’ I just wish there was somethin’ I could do.”

While I was distracted with thoughts of my old family, the rest of the group finished up their discussion and started to head back to the mess hall. It seems that Wreck was going to stay behind with Opal. Honestly, it was kind of sad that there wasn’t anything we could do for Opal. She always worked so hard taking care of us. Then something tugged at my memory; my wife sick in bed and her smile when I made her favourite medicine.

“Ya comin, Pete?” Balin asked, as he tapped me on the shoulder.

“Oh, sorry Balin. I was just thinking.”

“Uh oh.”

“Hey! It’s not that bad! My ideas are all great!”

“My moustache would disagree?” Balin scowled, and he twirled the scorched strands of his moustache as he glowered at me.

“Hey, no matter what, all the time we spent on the saltpeter trough was kind of great.”

“What? How.”

“Because it was grating.” Sam laughed and Balin grinned, but Bran just groaned.

“I pray daily that the Gods strike you down.” He grumped.

“Well excuse me, Bran! Here I was thinking about sharing an old recipe that I thought might help Opal.” I scoffed. “I guess you won’t be wanting it then!”

Bran suddenly grew a bit more contrite. “Did I say strike you down? I meant that I pray daily for your good health and happiness! Do you really have a new recipe for me Pete? Somethin that’ll help Opal feel better?”

“Yeah, it’s something I made for my wi- for a friend.” I was thinking of an old recipe that I used to make for Caroline. I’d made it for the first time while we were still engaged, and ever since then it was something she asked for whenever she was sick. It was an old British drink called a Caudle. “Well, let’s go to the kitchen.”

“What are we making?”

“I’m going to ruin some beer!”

“Not again!” Balin sobbed.

“What do you mean again?” Sam asked.

“You’ll see! Follow me!” I pointed in the direction of the mess hall and headed towards it, a skip in my step.

---

“I have nightmares of the last time this happened….” Balin muttered.

The four of us were wearing aprons and standing in the kitchen, with a pot on the stove and a keg of beer on the counter beside us.

“Oh hush, it went perfectly!” I said as I poured some beer into the pot.

“Tim lost his beard, and half the camp got injured!” Balin protested.

“Tim’s fine.” I replied.

“Nothin about that dwarf is fine…” Sam muttered.

I ignored the three of them, I had Caudle to cook! There were a couple variations on the drink, and I figured I would start with the one that was the heartiest.

“Alright Bran, I’m going to get started.”

“Aye Pete, what do ya need first?” Bran had a little recipe book and began to take some notes as I gave instruction.

“First I’ll need some eggs and sugar.”

“Sugar again…” Balin muttered.

“Help or get outta the way Balin.” Bran pushed Balin aside and got the eggs out of the cooler. He pointed Balin towards the sugar.

I poured a few cups of beer into the pot and set it to boiling. Then I cracked a few eggs into a bowl and started whisking. “I’ll need some breadcrumbs too.”

“Got it!” Sam grabbed a nearby loaf and began crumbling it into a bowl. “So, what are we makin?”

“It’s a drink called Caudle.” Caudle is an interesting drink that sounds vile when it’s first described but tastes quite nice. It has roots in England in the early 1300s where it was originally given to mothers suffering from post-partum pain. Over the centuries, it was made for anyone who got sick. It’s most likely where the word “coddled” came from, as you would bring Caudle to those who were suffering. I was going to make a slight variation on it that included a bit of bread for added texture and nutrients.

“Do we need fish? Fish oil is good fer the sick.” Bran scratched his head.

“What?” I paused in my mixing.

“Ya said it’s got Cod in it.” Sam pointed out.

“I heard that too.” Balin nodded.

“No, it’s just called Caudle. It doesn’t have fish in it.”

“Dunno why you’d call it that if it doesn’t have fish in it.” Bran said as he scribbled more notes.

“Aye, that’s weird.” Balin and Sam nodded in agreement.

I grumped, “Am I making this or not?”

“Not is better.” Balin quipped.

“Anything more Pete?” Bran and I ignored him as we continued working.

“Yeah, I need some cream, salt, and saffron if you have some.”

“What’s saffron?”

“It’s a spice.” Come to think of it, Saffron is sometimes called the most expensive spice. I seriously doubt they would have any in a prison camp. “Do you have nutmeg? That will work too.”

“Aye, got it.” Bran opened up the cupboard and pulled out some containers while Sam grabbed the cream. The three of us watched the pot as it came to a simmer and I poured the eggs and cream into the beer.

“The first stop in Caudle is to add some cream and eggs to warm beer or wine.”

“Oh, if it uses wine is this an elvish recipe then?” Bran asked.

“Makes sense.” Balin said. “Elves are weird.”

I ignored them, whisking until the beer mixture turned foamy.

“Next you add some breadcrumbs or oatmeal, and sugar. Something starchy and something sweet.” I mixed in the breadcrumbs and the sugar and whisked a while longer. “Finally, a sprinkle of salt and some spices!” I added a pinch of nutmeg and salt and give the mixture one final whisk. It was roughly the colour of caramel and had a milky, foamy texture.

“That doesn’t look half bad. I’m a fan of a milk and beer, and that’s milk WITH beer!” Sam actually smacked his lips.

“I’ll admit it does look tasty.” Balin said.

“It smells quite sweet. I think Opal will love it. Makes people feel better you say?”

“Absolutely. I made enough for everyone to try, so give me some tankards.” I poured out 5 mugs and everyone stared into the milky foam of their mugs with trepidation.

“It smells like nutmeg.” said Balin, after taking a sniff. Sam and Bran did the same.

“Alright, bottoms up! Cheers, eh!” Sam held up his tankard and we all clinked mugs. There was a brief moment of silence broken only by the faint sound of chugging. Then four dwarves took a satisfied gasp at the same time.

“It’s delicious!” Said Bran.

“I could get used ta this!”

“Opal will love it!”

“It has a light and fluffy texture that makes it easy to drink, but enough body that it feels like eating a meal.” Bran rubbed his beard, now with a slight patina of milk foam. “The sugar makes it sweet and easy to drink while the bitterness of the beer keeps it from bein too much like a dessert.”

“Aye, it feels nice and warm in the stomach, and the alcohol helps settle ya! It’s perfect for relaxin!”

“I need to get sick more often!”

“Alright! I’m glad you all like it.” I calmed them down and grabbed the remaining tankard as Sam’s hand reached for it. “The rest of it is for Doc Opal. Bran, do you want to take it to her?”

“Aye Pete, thanks!” Bran grabbed the tankard and made his way out of the kitchen.

Hopefully Opal would be better soon and things would go back to normal.


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