The Five Rules of Cooking by GamgeeFest, Part 2

[dreamflower]

The Five Rules of Cooking
(As Learned by Peregrin Took at the Free Fair of 1396 SR) Part 2


“It’s time, Merry! It’s time to begin! We need to start! We need to start!” Pippin exclaimed, bouncing excitedly and brandishing the piece of kindling with reckless abandon.

Frodo ducked just in time to avoid being smacked across the face. He gently took the kindling away and returned it to the wood pile. Then he waited, as he wasn’t allowed to do anything until Merry instructed him now that the contest had officially begun.

Merry rubbed his hands together and studied his receipt card carefully. There were two receipts he and Pippin would be making, the broth for the stew and then the stew itself. The broth would take the longest, so they would begin with that first. He rubbed his hands together, the only indication he gave of the nerves he felt inside. “All right,” he said. “First off, we need to start the fire and warm the water to a simmer. We’ll need to put the bones in the water to make the broth, so while we wait for the water to warm, we can bone the chicken and separate as much of the fat from the meat and bones as we can.”

“Can I start the fire?” Pippin asked.

“No,” Merry and Frodo firmly negated. Pippin’s eager face deflated slightly but he didn’t protest when Merry instructed Frodo to start the fire. Instead, he watched as Frodo took a striker from his pocket and quickly set the kindling ablaze. Soon the flames licked at the bottom of the pot and caressed its sides.

Merry placed the first of two hens on his chopping block. They were already prepared for cooking, the feathers, innards and heads removed. Now he made Pippin stand back as he took up the meat cleaver and cut the meat into more manageable pieces, setting aside one piece for Pippin for every two of his own. Pippin stood up on his tiptoes to watch him over the table, his nose scrunched up but fascinated all the same.

From his vantage point behind them, Frodo realized belatedly that Pippin would need something to stand on. Unfortunately, they had nothing with them that could act as a stool. The bucket they would need for throwing their discards, and the pull cart was simply too unstable. Frodo looked around at the nearby booths and tents and spotted what appeared to be an extra pail in the tent behind them. He told Merry he’d be right back and went to ask if he could borrow the pail. He returned a minute later, pail in hand, to hear Pippin’s leery questioning.

“I’ve never had stew with bones in it, Merry,” he said. “I don’t think we’re supposed to use the bones.”

“The bones have all the marrow and nutrients that make the broth so hearty,” Merry explained as he began chopping the second hen. “We need to remove all the meat from the bones so we can cook the meat. We need to get as much of the fat off the bones before putting them into the water. The remaining fat will come off the bones and float at the top of the water as it simmers, and we can skim the fat off that way. We don’t want to mix the fat into the water though or it will get greasy and won’t taste as good. Once the broth is finished, we’ll strain out the fat, bones and vegetables and keep only the liquid, which we will then use to make our stew. The rest of the broth we’ll store in these jars for use later.”

“Oh. Then what do we do with the bones?” Pippin asked, suddenly wondering what happened to all the bones of the beasts he had ever eaten. That seemed like a lot of bones and yet he couldn’t recall ever seeing a big pile of discarded bones anywhere.

“Here, Pip,” Frodo said then, putting the pail upside down at his feet and helping the lad to climb on top of it. Now Pippin could reach the table without having to strain his toes.

“Thank you Frodo!” Pippin exclaimed, rewarding Frodo with a toothy grin. “Do you know what happens to all the bones?”

“Well, some people make buttons or combs from them, or fashion them into handles for garden tools or whatnot. This pestle here which you will use for crushing the peppercorns is made of bone,” Frodo informed. “Dogs rather love to chew on bones and bury them. Bones can also be ground up for the compost, and I think the Gaffer once told me that you can make a special fertilizer with them also.”

“I didn’t know you could do so many things with bones,” Pippin stated, impressed with this new knowledge.

Merry then proceeded to show Pippin how to trim the fat from the meat and cut the meat from the bones. He had given Pippin mostly the wings and thighs, leaving the more difficult chest cavities for himself. He advised Pippin to be especially careful to remove the smaller bones and gristle. “Discard the gristle, but even the smallest bones can be used for the broth. Discard the fat also and put the meat in the pan when you’re finished. Pile the bones on the top corner of your cutting board, out of the way.”

He demonstrated what he wanted Pippin to do and then watched as the lad tentatively attempted his first piece, correcting his grip on the knife and meat as necessary. He and Frodo watched closely, giving encouragement as needed, and Pippin’s confidence quickly grew. When Merry was certain Pippin was comfortable with his task, he turned to his own parts, leaving Frodo to continue watch over Pippin, whose little pink tongue peeked out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on not cutting off his fingers. He worked slowly, sometimes putting the fat with the bones or the bones in the bucket with the discards, having to fish them back out. A little frown began to develop on his impish face and by the time he was nearly finished, the frown had grown to a grimace.

“This is very messy, Merry,” he complained as he looked at his greasy, fat-covered hands, little flecks of meat sticking to them from feeling for the small bones and gristle. “I don’t know why you made me clean my hands when they were just going to get dirty again.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust and tried to wipe the grime from his hands, succeeding only in spreading it around more. While he didn’t mind getting dirty, this was a different sort of dirty and he wasn’t at all sure he liked it. Mud eventually dried and flaked off. This stuff didn’t seem to want to go anywhere.

“We’ll wash our hands again once we’re finished with the chicken and have it cooking,” Merry assured. “Let me check your meat and make sure all the small bones are out. They’re hard to find sometimes. Even I still mess them every now and again.”

Only Pippin wasn’t listening. He was too busy flapping his hands about, distracted by the mess on them. “Is the fat supposed to cling like this?” he asked, shaking his hands more violently and eventually succeeding in sending little flecks of grime flying through the air.

“Hey now!” Frodo protested, as some of the flecks landed on his cheek and neck.

“Sorry Frodo,” Pippin apologized and went back to flapping his hands.

“Frodo, do you think you could track down some rags to wipe our hands with until we can wash them?” Merry requested in a too-patient tone. “I thought I had brought some, but I don’t see them now.”

“I’m sure someone will have extras,” Frodo said, glad for the excuse to escape further assault. He went in pursuit of spare rags and managed to borrow some from a table of Clayhangers and Hornblowers. He returned with his bounty to find Merry attempting to shake his head and remove the chicken fat from his carefully primped hair. The staid Brandybuck was beginning to look a little frayed.

“Here, Pip,” Frodo said. “Let’s wipe your hands clean.” He dipped a clean rag into the warming pot water and made quick work of cleaning Pippin’s hands.

Merry also wiped his hands clean before passing them through his curls, looking for stray bits of lingering chicken parts. Once satisfied, he thanked Frodo for his help then commenced with his lesson, keeping a rag nearby for Pippin to wipe his hands whenever he wanted. By the time the meat and bones were ready, the water was beginning to steam. Merry instructed Frodo to carefully place the bones into the water and to remove some of the wood from the pot to the pan once the water began to bubble.

“We only want it to simmer,” he reminded Pippin. “That’s less than one bubble at a time. While Frodo’s rearranging the wood, we can put the meat in the pan and I’ll put that on the fire to cook as well.”

When that was done, Merry waved down a judge to escort him and Pippin to the well for a proper washing. They soon returned, Pippin happily flapping his now pristine hands, and Merry rewarded him with another apple and a handful of nuts. Pippin clambered back onto his pail and looked at the remaining ingredients with zeal. Now that the dreaded chicken was out of the way, he was more eager to see what was coming next. While Pippin munched on his prize, Merry explained the next step in the cooking process.

“While the broth is brewing and the meat cooking, we’re going to prepare everything that goes into the broth and the stew,” Merry explained. “The ingredients for the broth will go into this bowl here. We want the broth vegetables to be cut into large chunks, since it will have to simmer for a long time and smaller pieces lose their flavor faster than big pieces.”

“Oh,” Pippin intoned and wondered how he was ever going to remember all of this information. He’d no idea cooking was such a complicated affair. “Does all of this go into the broth then?”

“No,” Merry said, glancing at his receipt. “Only fifteen of the peppercorn grounded, two stalks of celery, one medium onion, one large carrot and the half bay leaf. The rest is for the broth.”

“But there’s more than just one celery, onion and carrot,” Pippin pointed out, hoping that meant he would have extra to eat.

“That’s because those vegetables will also be needed for the stew, so we need more,” Merry explained. “So, first off, you’re going to take the leaves off the celery. The leaves are very bitter so we don’t want any of those getting into the broth or the stew. Once all the leaves are removed, put them back here between the cutting boards so I can chop them up. Then you’re going to take the peppercorns in that mortar and grind them with the pestle until it resembles a fine powder. While you’re doing that, I’ll chop the rest of the ingredients, and then we can work on the vegetables for the stew. But we must also remember to check the broth and skim the fat off the surface and to stir the chicken so it cooks evenly and doesn’t burn. I’ll take care of that as well, since you’re not allowed near the fire. By the time we have everything chopped up, the chicken should be cooked and ready to cut into cubes.”

“We’re not done with the chicken yet?” Pippin asked, his eager little face again deflating to a bemused frown. Frodo covered his smile with his hand.

“Not yet,” Merry confirmed. “But don’t worry Pip, it won’t be so messy once it’s cooked.”

“Couldn’t we have cooked it first then?” Pippin asked, pouting and looking extremely cross. He liked chickens well enough when they were clucking around the coop, or when his mother had already cut the meal into bite-sized pieces for him to eat. He decided he didn’t much care for the in-between part at all and he felt duped for having been subjected to such a sticky mess without need.

Frodo broke in now, shaking his head and keeping a straight face with practiced ease. “No, Pip, it doesn’t work that way. You have to prepare the chicken before you can cook it, no matter if you’re roasting, baking, cooking, frying or grilling it. At the least, you have to pluck the feathers and remove the innards, and you should feel grateful Merry has spared you that ordeal. But for a broth, you want all the nutrients of the bones to seep into the water. If you cook the chicken first, you’ll lose much of that flavor and the broth will turn out weak. Besides, once the meat’s cooked it will be hot and you’ll want to handle it as little as possible then.”

“If you say so,” Pippin agreed, but he clearly had his doubts.

“Now, what are you going to do?” Merry questioned Pippin.

“I’m going to remove the leaves from the celery and ground the peppercorn,” Pippin recited.

“Very good!” Merry praised.

Merry began peeling the carrots while Pippin made quick work of removing the leaves from the celery. Merry watched Pippin from the corner of his eye as his little cousin took up the mortar and pestle and began grinding the peppercorn. “Keep it up, Pip,” Merry encouraged. “Take your time, don’t spill.”

Pippin nodded, his little tongue peeking out again as he concentrated on beating the peppercorn to a pulp. Merry quickly diced a stalk of celery and stick of carrot into large chunks, then proceeded to peeling the onion and chopping off either end. He was slicing the onion in half when he heard Frodo softly clear his throat from his perch behind them next to the fire. A second later, Frodo cleared his throat again and Merry looked over to discover his bowl of ingredients held considerably less carrots than it had just a minute before. The corner of Pippin’s mouth showed evidence of where the missing carrots had ended up.

“Pip,” Merry said with a warning voice, “you’re not supposed to eat what you’re cooking.”

“Then how do we know if it’s any good?” Pippin asked. While it didn’t occur to him to deny the allegation, he had learned to always look for a valid excuse for his actions whenever possible. The excuses didn’t always work but they did succeed in getting him out of trouble enough that he figured it was always worth a try.

“We’ll sample the stew when it’s nearly done to see what adjustments need to be made to the seasonings, but we don’t eat the food or there won’t be any food to cook with,” Merry explained, ignoring Frodo’s barely suppressed giggles.

“But how do you know if the food is good enough to cook it?” Pippin asked, unperturbed. As far as he knew, the only way to tell if food was good for eating was to eat it and find out.

“By looking at it,” Merry said holding up his carrot. “See? There’s no uneven or excessive wrinkling anywhere. The color is even all the way around, it’s nice and orange just like it should be. There’s no soft spots that will warn you of bruising. That means it’s ripe and ready for cooking.”

“Oh,” Pippin said, understanding. “So we can’t eat any of this?”

A snicker escaped with a burst behind them. “Only if there is anything left over when we’re completely done,” Merry said, emphasizing the ‘only’ and ‘completely done’ part. “Cut that bay leaf in half when you’re done with the peppercorn.”

“Yes, Merry,” Pippin said and sheepishly went back to grinding the peppercorn as Merry chopped up another half carrot. When they were finished, they put the peppercorn and bay leaf into the bowl with the vegetables and covered the bowl with a white cloth to protect it from the heat and sun. For extra assurance, Merry stored the bowl in the pull cart under the table. Merry then checked the broth and skimmed the fat off the surface before stirring the chicken in the pan.

“Now for the stew ingredients,” Merry said, coming back to his station and consulting his receipt card again. “I’ll be in charge of the potatoes, celery, carrots, onions, garlic and squash. You are going to be responsible for peeling and dicing the tomatoes, shelling the peas and husking the corn. Start with the tomatoes first, as that will take the longest. Peel the skin back carefully, you don’t want to tear the flesh or lose any of the juice. If we need more juice, you can squeeze some the other tomatoes, but only do that if I tell you to.”

“Why do we have to peel the tomatoes?” Pippin asked. “What if the skin doesn’t want to come off. Do I get to eat it?”

Behind them, Frodo dissolved into giggles again. Far from being a disaster, this morning was proving to be quite entertaining, and he would have to commend Merry later for remaining calm and not displaying his competitive streak.

Merry sighed. “Tell you what, if we need more tomato juice and you have to strain one or two, you can eat those,” he promised and Pippin bounced and nearly fell off his pail. He caught himself on the table and grinned winningly.

Merry shook his head and showed Pippin how to peel the tomatoes and explained how to cut them into wedges. He then quickly explained the shelling and husking process for the peas and corn. He watched Pippin’s first attempts with the tomatoes and once Pippin was comfortable with his task, Merry turned his attention to peeling and dicing the potatoes.

Pippin didn’t mind the mess of peeling and dicing the tomatoes. This mess was more to his liking, wet but quick to dry. He took great zeal in straining another two tomatoes when Merry determined more juice was needed, even though Merry gently scolded him for splattering tomato juice everywhere. Pippin quickly calmed and took extra precaution to direct the tomato juice into the bowl, and afterward Merry kept his word and allowed Pippin to nibble on the abused tomatoes while he shelled the peas.

One by one, the vegetables were added to the other, larger bowl, and the remainder of the preparations passed without incident. Pippin didn’t much care for husking the corn either, but as corn husk was nowhere near as sticky or disgusting to deal with as chicken fat, no one minded much when Pippin flapped his hands or wiped them on his trousers to free them of the husk strands. Pippin didn’t have the strength to break the stems from the cobs, so Merry did that and cut the cobs into smaller slices as he closely watched Pippin measure out the spices and mix them into a small glass bowl: pepper, thyme and sage, all freshly ground.

Between each vegetable cut and added to the larger bowl, Merry attended to the broth, skimming the accumulating fat, and stirred the chicken in the pan. He had to work twice as fast to make up for his divided attention and Pippin’s slower pace, but it all got done with time to spare. They covered the two bowls with white cloths and Merry stored them in the pull cart next to the other. The remaining vegetables were set aside for elevenses.

“All right, Frodo-dear,” Merry said, “the chicken is finished, so if you can remove the pan from the fire and place the chicken on the cutting boards to cool, I will add the vegetables to the broth. It will need to continue simmering for another forty-five minutes,” he told Pippin. He removed the medium-sized bowl from the pull cart, double-checking it to make sure it was the right one, then waited for Frodo to clear the way before carefully spooning the vegetables into the broth.

Merry added the now-empty bowl to the pile of dirty dishes, then joined Pippin at the cutting boards again. Pippin was looking down at the chicken with disapproval. “Now, Pip, we are going to cut the meat into cubes and place it back into the pan as we go. As we cut, we can remove any excess fat or small bones that might have escaped our attention previously. You’re going to do the majority of the cutting, as I’m going to have to keep an extra close eye on the broth. The fat is starting to accumulate more quickly and we don’t want it soaking into the broth if we can help it.”

Pippin scrunched his face at this but gamely did as Merry instructed, cutting the meat into cubes and being careful not to burn his fingers on the hot meat. He was pleased to discover that Merry and Frodo had at least been correct about the meat being less messy once it was cooked and he only had to resist the urge to flap his hands once before remembering the discarded rag beside him. Merry even let Pippin have a pile of berries and nuts to munch on as he worked, and Pippin made of game for himself to see how many cubes he could cut with each bite of his snack food. He couldn’t count very high yet, but he figured the more times he counted to seven, the more he was cutting and the faster he was getting. Meanwhile, Merry’s arm was getting tired of skimming the broth and he had to switch the ladle back and forth every few scoops or so. He watched the sun closely, relieved to see that they still had plenty of time to cook the stew; it wasn’t even elevenses yet.

Frodo occupied himself by returning to his earlier hobbit-watching. The Gamgees and their friends were happily working away, singing carelessly, a cooking song no doubt. Many of their neighbors were joining in but a few looked rather disgruntled as they hurried about with their own cooking and baking. On the other end of the field, disaster was looming for one team. Their fire had begun to smoke thick and grey and the three lasses seemed at a loss of how to stop it. A couple of the judges ran to their aid and demanded to know where their helper was; teams without a member older than sixteen were required to have a helper and none of those lasses looked over the age of thirteen. A few of the teams had dissolved into bickering, resulting in harried movements, wasting time and ingredients and no doubt skipping vital steps; Frodo guessed that those teams would not do so well in the end for their impatience.

“Frodo,” Merry said, interrupting his thoughts. “The broth is finished. Can you fetch the other pot and the colander? There should also be a cheesecloth to line the colander. If I hold the colander, can you pour the broth over it into the pot?”

“Certainly, Merry-lad, whatever you need,” Frodo said and stood to offer his assistance.

He found the required tools and lined the colander with the cheesecloth as Merry skimmed the last bits of fat from the surface of the broth. Then they traded places, Merry taking the colander and holding it steady over the stew pot as Frodo carefully lifted the broth pot and slowly poured it out over the colander. The vegetables quickly accumulated on top of the cheesecloth, slowing the straining process to a crawl. Frodo put the pot down and removed the debris, then started again. This time the bones came, along with more of the vegetables and a few remaining clumps of fat.

Merry next helped Pippin with the last of the chicken before instructing Pippin to ladle the broth into the awaiting glass jars. When all the jars were full and the pot empty, Merry had Pippin study the broth. “See, Pip, it should be a clear deep brown like this here. Now, one of these ladles equals a half-cup, and we need five cups of the broth for the stew. So, we would need to ladle ten scoops of the broth back into the pot, which is one of these jars exactly – I counted as you scooped out the broth for the first jar. So pour one of these jars back into the pot, that’s right, and then we’ll add the chicken, vegetables and seasonings, put it back on the fire and let it simmer for another half hour. Then it will be done!”

“Why didn’t you just leave one jar of broth in the pot, Merry?” Pippin asked, pouring one of the jars’ contents back into the pot as instructed.

“Because I didn’t know how much we had made Pip, and so I didn’t know how much would need to be removed so that five cups were left in the pot,” Merry explained. They added the remaining ingredients and Frodo hung the pot from the spit.

“Now what?” Pippin asked.

“Now we clean up,” Merry said. “We’ve dishes to wash. Let’s wave down a judge to take us to the well. Frodo, you’ll watch over the stew and make sure the fire doesn’t die down?”

“Will do,” Frodo agreed. “I’ll divide the rest of the food for elevenses also. Take this pail and fill it with some water to wash down the food. We can use the ladle to drink from. Clean these rags also, so we can return them to their owners.”

“Very well,” Merry agreed and took the rags and pail with them when a judge came by to escort them to the well.

They returned from the well just as Frodo finished dividing the leftover ingredients and snacks. Merry and Pippin dived into their food, eating eagerly, while Frodo munched thoughtfully on a carrot. He had to admit that he was impressed. Merry never once ruffled his feathers and Pippin had performed admirably for all his boundless energy. Eglantine and Paladin would be quite proud when they heard of their son’s accomplishments.

As though reading his older cousin’s thoughts, Merry patted Pippin on the shoulder and said, “You were a marvelous help today, Pip, just like I knew you would be.” He looked pointedly at Frodo here.

Frodo nodded. “I was just thinking the same,” he agreed wholeheartedly. “You are quite the exceptional novice.”

“Huh?” Pippin asked, confused by the unfamiliar word.

“Novice, it means beginner, someone who’s just learning how to do something,” Merry elaborated.

Pippin beamed proudly and puffed out his chest. “I know,” he said and they all laughed.

They finished their meal and lay out on the cool grass. The sun was now high overhead, the shade gone entirely, and they were sweating from the heat of the day and the fires surrounding them. The aromas drifting about the breeze were enticing and mouth-watering, making even full bellies grumbling for more. They settled on drinking the water with the ladle and when that was gone, Frodo went to retrieve more. The pail leaked only a little but it created a nice little puddle of cold water in the grass for them to bathe their feet as they played some more rounds of biscuits-and-scones.

Merry kept an eye on the sun’s arch through the sky and when a half-hour passed, he got up to check on the stew. He allowed Frodo and Pippin each a taste before he sampled the stew himself. Frodo nodded with approval, a wistful smile gracing his fair features; he had messed this stew since moving to Bag End. Pippin smacked his lips and licked them dry, wanting more.

“Nearly perfect,” Merry pronounced. “It’s just a bit runny. We’ll need to thicken it up with some flour.”

“Where’s the flour?” Pippin asked, springing to his feet.

“In that rucksack,” Merry answered, pointing to where the sack sat in the middle of the booth.

Pippin skipped to the table but without his pail to stand on he couldn’t quite reach the rucksack, so, before anyone could stop him, he settled for jumping up and making one desperate swipe for the rucksack. He managed to obtain it, but the sack snagged on the edge of the booth on his way down. The knot of the sack was secure, but the bag tore where it snagged on the booth, which Pippin failed to notice. He yanked at the sack a few times with little result.

“Here Pip,” Merry said, looking up and noticing his trouble. He approached his younger cousin just as Pippin gave the rucksack a pull so mighty that he fell over backward, tearing the sack entirely and sending a white cloud of flour cascading over the table and everything on it or near it. When the dust settled, a good pile of flour sat on the edge of the booth, quickly sliding through the cracks between the beams, and flour covered the table, the floor, the cooks and the newly cleaned dishes.

Pippin sneezed as flour dust tickled in his nose. “Whoops,” he whispered.

Frodo contained his laughter with great difficulty. Only by biting his lower lip and gripping his knees did he manage to stifle most of his giggles but he couldn’t prevent the tears from streaming down his face. He had been spared the flouring, having the sense to flee the vicinity while Merry had dashed into the fray. Now Frodo returned to the scene, hampered only by the tears in his eyes and the stitch forming in his side. He found an apologetic Pippin scrambling to his feet as a disgruntled Merry resolutely shook powder from his once perfect hair and formerly tidy clothes.

“I’m sorry, Merry,” Pippin said, sounding close to tears. Usually, Merry would be laughing right about now, not being so silent and refusing to look at him. “I didn’t think the bag would rip like that. I didn’t think there was that much flour in it. It’s such a small bag and it was so light.” He trailed off lamely and shuffled his feet, sending up little puffs of flour.

“It’s not your fault Pip,” Frodo soothed, placing himself between his cousins. “You were only trying to help.”

“But now the flour’s all gone and stew will be runny!” Pippin quailed.

“I’m sure there is someone here who will have some extra flour we can use,” Frodo assured. “Under the circumstances, I doubt the judges would mind. I’ll settle it with Mistress Crocker, then see Sam. If anyone has extra ingredients in case of a baking emergency, it will be him.”

“So then, I didn’t ruin anything?” Pippin asked, looking hopeful.

“Only your cousin’s good looks, but that’s not much lost if you ask me,” Frodo said and moved just in time to miss being whacked on the head from behind. Frodo fixed Merry with a stern look that said ‘remember, this was your idea,’ then patted Pippin’s dusty head and circled around the booth. “I’ll go speak with Mistress Crocker.”

“Thank you, Frodo,” Merry said, a note of strain in his voice. Then he looked down at Pippin, who blinked up at him looking every bit like a snow hobbit, and laughed. He couldn’t imagine he looked much better, and there were worse things that could have happened today than some spilled flour. “Oh, Pip, but you do keep things interesting.”

“That’s what Mum and Da always say,” Pippin replied.

“I’m sure they do,” Merry said with a fondness in his eyes.

He shook his head and looked around to notice that nearly everyone was watching them, many clearly in throes of hysterics. Unlike the previous disasters that had largely gone unnoticed by the other competitors, many of the teams were now finished with their preparations and, like them, merely waiting for their creations to cook, the result being that they had a large audience for their little mishap.

“I think we best take our bows, Pip,” he said and grabbed Pippin’s hand before he could ask what Merry meant. Merry led Pippin in a four-turn bow, receiving much applause and whoops at each turn.

“Why are they clapping, Merry?” Pippin asked, forgetting his earlier worry that Merry was upset with him as he tried to make sense of this unexpected turn.

“Oh, they just wish they had thought of it first,” Merry replied, then took one of the cleaner rags, dipped it in the chalky water and proceeded to wipe Pippin’s face clean. “Now, Pip, when Frodo returns with the flour, we will use that scoop sitting there on the table to scoop the flour into the stew. We’ll stir the stew after each scoop until the stew is to the thickness we desire. Understand.”

“Yes, Merry,” Pippin replied, turning his head so Merry could dig, rather roughly, into his ear. “I really am sorry Merry.”

“I know, Pip. It’s not a worry. Like Frodo said, nothing’s been ruined,” Merry said. “If we can’t get the flour, then we’ll just call our stew a soup.”

At the center of the field, Frodo finished explaining their dilemma to Mistress Tulip, who chuckled kindly and nodded. “Of course. I think we can make an exception this one time, so long as all that is borrowed is the ruined ingredient.”

“Thank you, Mistress Crocker,” Frodo said and made his way to Sam’s table.

He needn’t even open his mouth before Sam held up a bag of flour. “Here you are, Master Frodo,” Sam said, chuckling under his breath, his eyes still red from his earlier laughing fit. His sisters and friends were in similar states.

“I don’t think we’ll need this much,” Frodo said, taking the bag gratefully. “Only a half-cup should do.”

“That may be,” Robin said, “but it don’t look like it’ll be all as gets used, meaning no disrespect to your kin, Master Frodo.”

Frodo laughed ruefully. “None taken. I’ll bring back what’s left.”

“If there’s any left,” May whispered as Frodo turned to go.

“I told ‘ee they make a fine mess of themselves,” Tom said smugly, which earned him both laughter and shushes.

Frodo smiled to himself and continued on his way as though he hadn’t heard this last exchange. Only Sam would know better than to think themselves unheard but he wouldn’t say anything to his friends. He wouldn’t want to worry them unduly, knowing that Frodo could only have agreed with them.

Frodo returned to his cousins and found them with their faces, arms and hands wiped as clean as they would get without a proper shower, and their hair and clothes still covered in a thick layer of stubborn flour. They looked every bit like two little gaffers and Frodo wasted no time informing them of this.

“Just wait, Frodo, until you look a gaffer,” Merry said. “Don’t expect any mercy from us.”

“In that case, I think I’ll pour the flour,” Frodo said, clutching the bag close to himself. “We can’t be wasting this anyway. The Gamgees will be needing back whatever we don’t use.”

“We can reimburse them,” Merry said.

“Just tell me how much you want in the stew,” Frodo insisted and easily kept the bag out of Merry’s reach. So Frodo poured the flour into the empty broth pot and Merry instructed Pippin to add a dash of water and stir it well before Merry poured it into the broth.

“This will keep the flour from clumping in the hot stew,” Merry explained as he stirred in the flour mixture. They repeated the process until the stew was to the preferred thickness; Frodo wasted no time in returning the flour to Sam, who looked mildly surprised to receive any of it back.

“Thank you, sir,” Sam said. “That was quick.”

“It’s a pleasant day for cooking accidents, no need to spoil it with cousinly pranks,” Frodo replied with a wink.

“Right you are, Master Frodo,” Sam agreed and tucked the bag away out of sight just to be safe.

Frodo made his way across the grounds one more time and found his cousins in the vain process of wiping clean their cooking station. There was little they could do about the grass, but they could at least attempt to clean off the table. Without a word, Frodo took the dishes and rags for another quick wash and returned the rags to their rightful owners before any more harm could come to them. By the time he came back to his cousins, they were sitting on the green, the table scrubbed to a milky white, which they had apparently decided was good enough. Frodo emptied the pail over the table and went to return that to its owner as well, before returning one last time to settle next to his friends. He pulled Pippin into his lap, sneezing from a little cloud of flour that rose up from Pippin’s hair.

“So, Pip, let’s go over what you’ve learned so far about cooking,” Frodo suggested. “There are five general rules for any cooking or baking project. Can you guess what they are?”

“Don’t rip open the flour bag?” Pippin ventured.

“That would be more of a warning,” Merry corrected. “Think of the rules more as steps. What would the first step be? What’s the first thing we did when we got here?”

“We stood in line,” Pippin answered promptly, looking confused. Would they always have to stand in line when they wanted to cook something? That didn’t seem right.

“No, when we got here to this station,” Frodo specified.

Pippin put a finger to his lips and thought back. “We got water and set up the fire pit,” he said after a moment’s thought.

“And then?” Merry prompted.

“Then you showed me how to set up the station for cooking,” Pippin finished.

“Exactly!” Frodo exclaimed with a rewarding squeeze, sending up another flour cloud. “The first rule of cooking is to always be prepared. You need to make sure you have everything that the receipt requires and that everything is within reach.”

“I wasn’t entirely prepared,” Merry admitted and grinned impishly. “Next time, I’ll have to bring rags.”

“So step one is to be prepared, and you also guessed step two, which is to be organized,” Frodo continued. “Can you tell us what step three is?”

“Don’t make a mess?” Pippin said.

Merry laughed. “Messes are inevitable when you’re cooking,” he replied. “That is why step four is so important: clean as you go. It reduces the amount of washing you have to do later if you wash up as you go along or while you’re waiting for the food to cook.”

Pippin thought hard again, trying to figure out what the third rule might be. Then he remembered Merry’s earlier lecture and perked up. “Don’t eat the food!” he exclaimed.

Now it was Frodo’s turn to chuckle. “It does make it easier to cook if you have something to cook with, but that wouldn’t be a step. How did Merry know what to use for the broth and how much of each ingredient to put in the stew?”

“He read the receipt!” Pippin answered, bouncing excitedly in Frodo’s lap, sending up more clouds of flour. “Step three is read the receipt! But I can’t read yet.”

“You’ll learn soon enough,” Merry assured. “You must always read the receipt thoroughly and consult it often while cooking. You want to be sure you don’t skip any steps and that you follow the directions precisely, especially as you’re learning. Once you have some experience under your belly, you can experiment with the receipts or create your own, but you’re still a few years away from that.”

“Because I’m a novice,” Pippin stated.

“That’s right,” Frodo said. “Step five we haven’t got to yet, but I bet you can guess that one well enough. You’re already an expert at it.”

“Eat?” Pippin guessed.

“Serve your guests and enjoy,” Merry confirmed, “and remember, a proper host never boasts. If you did your job well, the food will speak for you.”

The lesson and cooking over, Frodo and Merry tidied up and Pippin set out the bowls and spoons for the judges. All over the field, the other teams were doing the same except for a few who were still adding their final touches. Slowly, the judges made their way to the center of the field, and Mistress Tulip rang the warning bell, sending the few teams still cooking into a scrambled fury to finish on time.

Frodo, Merry and Pippin sat near their steaming pot of stew, the fire having been left to die out on its own. They played some more biscuits-and-scones, trying to keep their minds off the fragrant aromas surrounding them and the judges standing at centerfield. Yet the last fifteen minutes passed quickly and before they knew it, the final bell was sounded. Mistress Tulip stepped forward and waited for everyone’s attention; she didn’t have to wait long, as most were already watching her and the other judges with bated breath.

“Everyone, please, stop cooking and prepare to present your creations,” she said. “The judges have been split into teams of four, and each team will be responsible for one category.” She quickly introduced the judges, having them stand forth as their names were called. “I have seen some wonderfully appealing entries today, and I know the judges will have their work cut out for them – not that they’re complaining, are they?” Nervous laughter tittered across the grounds. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I even get to taste some tie-breakers. Judges, you have an hour.”

The judges divided and began making their final round. At each station, they were each given a sample of the food and the contestants gave a brief description of their creations as the judges ate and made notes. Though they spent no more than a couple of minutes at each station, it was nearly a half-hour before they reached Merry and Pippin.

Though all the judges had witnessed the mishap with the flour, they still needed a moment to digest what they saw. Merry and Pippin did indeed look like two little gaffers, as Frodo had said, their curls dusted white and lines of flour caked onto their skin from the sun where Merry hadn’t quite been able to wash it all away. Unperturbed by their silent reception, Merry spooned out a small portion of the stew for each judge and Pippin handed them their bowls and spoons.

“Good day, Sirs and Misses,” Merry greeted politely, though one of their judges was a gammer. A comely young maid and two middle-aged chaps comprised the other three. “I am Meriadoc Brandybuck and this is Peregrin Took, and we made chicken stew with vegetables. This stew was created by my grandmother, Menegilda Goold Brandybuck, nearly fifty years ago and has been a staple of Buckland festivities ever since,” he explained, repeating much the same thing as he had told the hobbitess who checked them in.

“I got to peel and squish tomatoes, and I had to peel the fat off the chicken and it was very sticky,” Pippin chimed in.

“Is that right?” one of the fellows said. “Well, then, I must say, your extra effort has paid off. You’ve an exceptional stew.”

“Thank you!” Pippin said.

“This is quite marvelous,” the gammer agreed. “It just warms you right up!”

“The blend of ingredients is perfect,” the other fellow praised next.

“It’s wonderful indeed, a perfectly hearty meal,” the young maid said.

“Thank you,” both Merry and Pippin said with delight.

The judges each took one more sample, made some notes, then moved on to the next table, wishing Merry and Pippin good luck before they left.

“Did you hear that, Frodo!” Merry said, bouncing himself now. “They liked my stew!”

“Don’t get too excited Merry,” Frodo warned. “They say such things to everyone.”

“That may be, but I think they meant it in my case,” Merry said with confidence, his competitive streak now emerging.

“I’m sure they were sincere enough, but you have tough competition,” Frodo reasoned. “No matter what happens with the judging, do try to be gracious.”

“How much longer?” Pippin asked then. He was growing fidgety again. The morning has been enjoyable and he was happy to help Merry and spend time with his favorite cousins. He had been thrilled to have his first cooking lesson, sticky messes and mishaps besides, but now that the lesson and cooking was over, he was ready to move onto the next event. He was also hot and thirsty from the sun, and his stomach was grumbling for food again. “Can we eat the stew now?”

“You can finish what the judges didn’t eat,” Frodo offered and, pouring the samples into one bowl, handed it to Pippin.

“They didn’t finish their samples,” Merry noted with a hint of surprise. He had failed to notice earlier, so wrapped up in visions of First Place victory, and now his confidence wavered. “Maybe they really didn’t like my stew.”

“They never finish the sample,” Frodo assured. “If they finished everything everyone heaped upon them, they’d collapse before they reached the last table.”

“So, if they compliment my cooking they don’t necessarily like it, but if they don’t finish their sample they don’t necessarily dislike it either,” Merry surmised.

“Like that time you apologized to Pimmie for using her new ribbon as a collar for Mr. Gumpie,” Pippin chimed in, talking about his pet toad. “You weren’t really sorry though, because you thought Mr. Gumpie looked better in it than Pimmie did.”

“Sort of like that,” Merry agreed and paced nervously as Pippin ate his stew.

Pippin finished his meal and smacked his lips and licked the bowl. “Your stew is delicious, Mer,” he praised.

“Our stew,” Merry corrected. “We made it together, remember?”

“Can I have more?” Pippin asked.

“We need to save some in case of a tie,” Frodo informed him, “and others will want to sample it also. It’s unlikely we’ll get to enjoy any more of it.”

“But we made it,” Pippin objected.

“For a cooking contest, and the chefs rarely get to enjoy their creations during such events,” Merry explained. “The purpose of the contest is for others to enjoy what you’ve made.”

“That’s not very fair. We did all this work!” Pippin cried.

“How about we make some more when we get back to Whitwell,” Merry suggested. “We already have the broth, so it will be easier next time.”

“All right,” Pippin agreed, quelled by this compromise. “Now what do we do?”

“Now, we wait,” Frodo said.

Too nervous to play any more games, Merry sat in silence as Frodo and Pippin traded riddles. Merry watched the judges’ progression around the grounds back to centerfield. When all the judges were gathered, they compared notes and tallied their final scores, which Mistress Crocker double- and triple-checked. There were quite a few categories that required tie-breakers, and Mistress Crocker visited a number of booths, mostly among the baked goods. She then took a few more minutes to make her decisions. At long last, she stepped forward and raised her hands for attention.

“Congratulations, junior-hobbits, for some truly spectacular entries this year,” Mistress Tulip began. “Your dedication and talents are to be highly praised. Well done!” She paused as the contestants all applauded each others’ efforts. “I was right indeed to think you would put the judges to task. It was extremely difficult to choose who among you created the most delicious, scrumptious dish, and you should all know that no matter who walks away with a ribbon and who doesn’t, you are all winners.

“We will now announce the first, second and third prize winners. Step forward as I call your names and line up here beside me. Everyone who places this morning will receive their ribbons at the commencement ceremony this evening, which will take place just before the Fair’s End Feast.”

She started with the baked goods first, announcing the winners of the Breads, Scones and Muffins, Biscuits, and Puddings. Then came Cakes and Pies, and Merry, Frodo and Pippin waited anxiously to see if their friends would place.

“In the category of Cakes and Pies, the third place ribbon goes to Primrose and Lark Broadback of Little Delving for their delicious upside strawberry cake,” Mistress Tulip announced. The winners jumped up and down with whoops and dashed to centerfield to much applause. “The second place ribbon goes to Tolman and Wilcome Cotton, and Robin Smallburrow and Samwise Gamgee of Bywater and Hobbiton, for their inventive four-layer cake.” More applause and cheers accompanied Sam and his friends as they raced to join the others next to Mistress Tulip. “And finally, the first place ribbon goes to May and Marigold Gamgee and Rose Cotton of Hobbiton and Bywater, for their scrumptious apple pie with custard. Congratulations all of you!” The lasses joined their brothers and friend and they hugged ecstatically. The winners then bowed and curtsied before returning to their booths.

Three more categories were announced before Mistress Crocker came to the Stews and Soups. Merry and Pippin clasped hands and held their breaths.

“In the category of Stews and Soups, the third place ribbon goes to Lily and Daffodil Roundhouse of Tookbank, for their mouth-watering bean and bacon soup,” Mistress Tulip announced, and the lasses skipped and hopped to the center of the field, squealing excitedly. “The second place ribbon goes to Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took for their hearty chicken stew.”

Pippin sprang to his feet and started bouncing up and down. “We won! Merry, we won!” he cheered as his Took relations applauded him and Merry. He hugged Merry and Frodo both, then bounced some more.

Merry was a little slower to begin celebrating. He was disappointed at not placing first, but he knew also that Frodo was right. Their competition had been fierce, as most of the other contestants in their category were far older and more experienced. Second place was an achievement worth being proud of. “That we did, Pipsqueak!” Merry exclaimed, grinning wholeheartedly. He hugged Pippin again and hugged and kissed Frodo.

“I knew you two could do it!” Frodo congratulated them, pride shining on his face.

“Let’s go and congratulate the others,” Merry said. He took Pippin’s hand and they dashed down to centerfield, where they shook hands with the third place winners.

“And lastly, the first place ribbon goes to Calla Delvegood of Michel Delving for her delightful venison stew.”

A young maid of about eighteen years joined the others and they all congratulated each other before taking their bows and curtsies and returning to their booths.

“I don’t understand why we can’t get our ribbons now, Merry,” Pippin was saying when he and Merry came back to their station.

“Because they need time to write your names on your ribbon, Pip,” Frodo explained. He knew his Aunt Dora and Aunt Daffodil would be among the helpers writing the names on the ribbons and he could just picture their surprise when they realized that Merry and Pippin had placed. He grinned at the very thought of it, and hugged his cousins again.

“So, you knew we could do it, did you?” Merry asked with a laugh.

“Of course I did,” Frodo replied, “so long as you remained calm.”

“So then the challenge was remaining calm,” Merry said.

“With you two, always,” Frodo confirmed.

“Shh!” Pippin hissed. “They’re announcing the other winners.”

They sat quietly while the last two categories were announced. Once all the winners had been named and were back at their stations, Mistress Crocker held up her hands one last time. “That concludes the Juniors’ Cooking Contest,” she said. “Thank you all for participating. Enjoy the delightful creations of your fellow chefs and bakers, and remember, if anyone wishes for advice, I will be here all through lunch.”

“Come on,” Merry said, heading across the field at a fast clip. “I want some of the pie and cake that Sam and his sisters made.”

“That’s not exactly a proper lunch,” Frodo called after them but it was no use. They were already halfway across the field. Frodo quickly arranged the stew pot, bowls and spoons on the table, then dashed after his cousins. If he couldn’t stop Pippin from eating sugar, at least he could minimize the damage.

They made their rounds of the various entries, eating a little of this and a little of that, so by the time luncheon was over, they were all bursting at the seams. They came across the Gamgees and their friends as they made their rounds and shared warm congratulations all around, complementing each other on their efforts. Sam and the others had all managed to get a sample of Merry’s and Pippin’s stew and had nothing but good things to say about it.

When they were finished eating, they gathered up their things to make room for the next set of contestants already lining up to check in, and set out to go. All the stew was gone, but Merry had luckily stashed away the remaining broth in the pull cart for safekeeping. They set out for the campgrounds first so Pippin could grab a change of clothes, then they returned to the Soaring Falcon Inn where the lads could bathe and change into fresh clothes. Frodo volunteered to wash the dishes while they were at their baths and saw them deposited into the bathing room before going to the kitchen.

As he passed through the common room, he spied his Aunt Daffodil outside near the stables, presumably on her way to the sewing tents to help with the prize ribbons. Frodo then spotted his Uncle Ponto, his arms folded and chin lifted in vain defiance. Daffodil looked none too pleased with her husband.

“This was Bilbo’s idea, wasn’t it?” she demanded. “I don’t care what you had planned or how much money you think you’re going to make, but you are not keeping those swine, Ponto!”

Frodo laughed to himself and continued on his way, as down the hall his cousins broke out in a bathing song, accompanied by much splashing. He remembered again why he enjoyed the Free Fair so much: you never knew just what might happen.
The End

GF 4/20/08

* - See “In a Flash”

** - Tulip Crocker was Grey Wonderer’s invention. GW created her when she was first attempting this story and I quite enjoyed her meddlesome character. Tulip’s quite a different hobbitess here, nothing like the conniving or opportunistic character that GW had envisioned, but they both have legendary baking skills in common. I hope you enjoy my interpretation of her, GW.

Harvested Chicken Stew

Prep time: 15 min
Cook Time: 30 min
Serves 10

INGREDIENTS

2 cups chopped onion
2 cups cubed, cooked boneless chicken breast meat
1 cup chopped celery
2 cups whole peeled tomatoes, with liquid
2 cups sliced carrots
5 cups chicken broth
1 cup sweet corn
1 cup peas
1 cup sliced zucchini

In a large soup pot combine the onion, chicken, celery, tomatoes with liquid, carrots, broth, corn, peas and zucchini. Stir together and simmer over medium low heat for 1/2 hour, or until vegetables are cooked and tender.

(A/N: The potatoes and flour were added to Merry’s recipe from suggestions found in reviews of this recipe. As for the corn, I figured if Tolkien gave the hobbits tomatoes, potatoes, and tobacco, I could give them corn.)