Chapter 302: The Great Swamp Crab Boil

Ren aggressively slapped both of her hands against her flushed cheeks. The sharp, stinging sensation forcefully dragged her mind straight out of the gutter back into reality. She had a kitchen to run.

She tied her hair up into a tight, messy bun with the hairpin to hold it, rolled back the invisible sleeves of her emerald silk dress, and marched purposefully back into the scullery. Her arms were laden with the fresh, aromatic bounties she had just meticulously selected from the garden using the magical log book.

The moment she stepped through the grand archway, her two eager culinary apprentices practically vibrated with excitement.

“Mistress!” the coral snake female hissed happily, her scaled tail swishing rapidly against the stone floor. “We have finished the work exactly as you asked!”

Ren walked over to the wide, smooth stone tables and genuinely gasped. The two snake females had done an immaculate, professional-grade job. The mountain of starchy lotus roots had been flawlessly peeled and sliced into perfectly uniform, incredibly thin, translucent discs that looked like delicate wagon wheels.

And the massive, dog-sized swamp crabs? They had been scrubbed so thoroughly with the stiff marsh-brushes that their thick, dark, algae-covered shells literally squeaked and shined under the ambient lighting of the kitchen.

“Ladies, this is flawless prep work,” Ren praised, her green eyes gleaming with pride. “You both easily earn an A-plus. Now, wash your hands and pay very close attention to everything I do. I want you to memorize the techniques.”

Both females vigorously nodded their heads as they slithered closer to the massive stone table.

“First up, the fried chicken,” Ren announced, getting her cleaver from inventory. “The secret to the perfect crunch is all in the dredge and the temperature of the oil.”

With expert, rapid precision, Ren brought the cleaver down. Thwack! Thwack! She quickly broke down the plump waterfowls Viper had provided, flawlessly separating the thick thighs, the meaty wings, and the massive breasts, leaving the skin perfectly intact.

She took a massive stone bowl and filled it to the brim with a fine, powdery flour.

“To make the crunchy dust,” Ren narrated, “we are seasoning our base flour with freshly ground garlic-root, finely crushed wild thyme, and a very generous pinch of our dried, fiery red swamp-peppers. You have to season the flour so aggressively that it almost makes you want to sneeze. If your raw flour looks plain and pale, your fried meat will taste plain and boring.”

She got out a whisk next and whipped the dry ingredients together until the pale powder was speckled with gorgeous, vibrant red and green flakes. Taking a thick, juicy piece of the raw fowl, she dipped it entirely into a bowl of thick, beaten bird eggs. The golden, rich yolks clung heavily to the meat. Ren let the excess drip off for a brief second, then firmly pressed the wet fowl directly into the seasoned flour mountain.

“The double-dredge is absolutely non-negotiable,” Ren instructed, tossing the coated meat back into the golden egg wash, and then right back into the seasoned flour, using her palms to pack the crust tightly around the flesh. “This specific technique creates those beautiful, craggy, uneven flakes that hold onto the grease and give us maximum crunch.”

Ren moved gracefully over to the stone hearth. An iron cauldron filled with rendered animal fat was already bubbling over a roaring, open wood fire. She carefully dropped the thickly coated pieces of fowl into the boiling oil, dropping them away from her body so it wouldn’t splash.

Sizzle! Crackle! Pop!

A beautiful hiss instantly erupted from the cauldron. The second the battered meat hit the hot fat, an overwhelmingly intoxicating, deeply savory aroma exploded into the air. The rich smell of frying fat, roasted garlic, and toasting, spicy peppers filled every single corner of the scullery, thick and desperately mouth-watering.

While the fowl fried to a perfect, deep golden-brown crust, Ren smoothly pivoted to her next meal.

“While our meat bathes, we make the sweet-and-sour wild berry dipping sauce,” Ren continued, her hands moving in a blur. She dumped dark, plump forest berries directly into a hot, shallow saucepan. As the berries hit the hot metal, they instantly began to blister and pop.

She added a generous splash of highly acidic citrus juice to cut the natural sweetness, followed by a massive, dripping dollop of thick, golden wild honey.

She let the beautiful concoction simmer rapidly over the roaring flames. The intense heat completely burst the berries, releasing their natural pectins and a thick, glossy, ruby-red syrup that bubbled sluggishly. It reduced beautifully into a sticky, fragrant, glowing glaze. The scent was absolutely divine. It smelled like pure, concentrated summer—sweet, tangy, and addictive, cutting flawlessly right through the savory smell of the frying fat.

Next came the mountain of lotus root chips. Ren took handfuls of the translucent, starchy slices the snake girls had so meticulously prepared and dropped them directly into a fresh cauldron of clean, boiling oil.

They sizzled beautifully upon impact. The starchy wheels rapidly curled slightly at the edges, the pale flesh turning a flawless, crispy, golden-brown hue in mere seconds. Ren scooped them out with a large woven wire strainer, shaking off the excess grease before immediately tossing them in a generous shower of coarse sea salt while they were still hot and glistening.

“Always, always salt your fried food the exact second it comes out of the fat,” Ren commanded her students, tossing the crispy chips high into the air in a massive wooden bowl to coat them evenly. “The residual hot oil acts as a natural glue, ensuring every single bite is perfectly seasoned.”

Ren couldn’t resist. She picked up one golden chip and took a bite. The loud, satisfying CRUNCH echoed over the bubbling cauldrons. It was salty, earthy perfection.

The coral and albino females were utterly mesmerized. Their forked tongues flicked the humid air, tasting the incredible, layered symphony of scents that was completely overtaking the kitchen.

And they certainly weren’t the only ones.

The intoxicating aromas of savory, spicy fried meat, sweet reducing berries, and toasted garlic were actively drifting out of the open archways of the scullery. The smell wound its way seductively through the dark, cold, damp corridors of the massive obsidian castle.

Slowly but surely, a crowd of snake beastmen and females began to gather directly at the wide entrance of the kitchen. They stood packed shoulder-to-shoulder, completely spellbound. Their reptilian eyes were completely dilated, their mouths literally watering and drooling onto the pristine stone floor as they watched their King’s mate work her magic.

“Now,” Ren grinned, her bright eyes flashing with passion as she looked over her shoulder at her drooling audience. “For the main event. The Spicy Garlic-Butter Swamp Crab boil.”

Ren hauled an impossibly large, heavy iron pot directly onto the hottest part of the fire, filling it halfway with fresh, clean water. As the water reached a rolling boil, she dumped in her aromatics to build the flavor base.

She tossed in bruised, halved swamp-lemons, massive, unpeeled handfuls of pungent garlic-roots, entire leafy stalks of wild celery, and an eye-watering amount of the fiery red swamp-peppers. The clear boiling water instantly turned into a rich, murky, deeply seasoned broth, sending a cloud of spicy, citrusy steam straight up to the ceiling. It stung the eyes in the best, most appetizing way possible.

“Into the jacuzzi you go,” Ren announced cheerfully.

Using a pair of large wooden tongs, she carefully lowered the swamp crabs directly into the boiling, heavily seasoned broth.

The moment the shells hit the rolling boil, they instantly began to cook, morphing rapidly into a brilliant, striking, fiery crimson red.

While the colossal crabs boiled, absorbing the spicy, lemony broth into their thick meat, Ren prepared the true star of the dish: the garlic-butter sauce.

In her cast-iron skillet, Ren melted down three pounds of rich, creamy, perfectly rendered fat that flawlessly mimicked the sweet decadence of cow’s butter. The golden liquid bubbled, popped, and foamed aggressively over the fire.

“We are not being shy with this,” Ren narrated, scooping up a mountain of finely minced garlic-root and dumping it directly into the hot, foaming butter.

The roasted scent of frying garlic hit the air. The crowd of beastmen at the door collectively groaned, completely hypnotized by the smell.

Ren aggressively whisked in handfuls of spicy red chili powder, dried thyme, a dash of salt, and a bright, acidic splash of citrus juice. The golden butter completely transformed before their eyes, emulsifying into a thick, red, glossy, flavor-packed sauce.

When the giant crabs were perfectly tender and fully cooked, Ren hauled them out of the boiling broth, letting the fragrant water drain from their bright red shells. She placed them onto a massive, flat, ill-shaped obsidian platter.

Using a heavy stone mallet, she expertly cracked the massive, thick red shells of the colossal pincers and the long, spindly legs. The shells gave way with a satisfying CRACK, exposing the plump, steaming, sweet white meat hidden safely inside. The meat was so tender it practically flaked apart just looking at it.

“Finally,” Ren purred, grabbing the cast-iron skillet by its handle, the boiling, spicy garlic butter hissing and popping. “We drown them.”

She tilted the skillet and dramatically poured the cascading waterfall of glossy, fiery red garlic butter directly over the cracked crab legs.

The hot, spiced butter seeped beautifully into every single cracked crevice of the shells, soaking the sweet, steaming white meat in a savory, spicy, rich glaze. The excess butter dripped decadently off the bright red shells, pooling in a shimmering, spicy golden puddle at the bottom of the serving platter.

The collective, ragged gasp and the wet, desperate sounds of frantic swallowing from the crowd of snake beastmen at the doorway was almost deafening.

Ren wiped a stray bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist, stepping back to admire her sprawling, glorious feast.

The golden, craggy, extra-crispy fried waterfowl sat perfectly on a wooden board beside a bowl of the sticky, ruby-red wild berry dipping sauce. The salty, lacy lotus root chips were piled incredibly high like a mountain of edible gold coins. And sitting squarely in the center of the table was the colossal, fiery red swamp crabs, the sweet white flesh dripping and swimming in the thick, aromatic, spicy garlic butter.

Ren looked at the desperately drooling crowd with a bright grin.

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