Roast Mutton

What is a feast without roasted mutton? A woman's meal, that's what. A man requires meat to give strength. He cannot subsist on roots and broth alone. No, meat gives the thews that make a man a man. Milk for suckling babes. Tea for the old and sick. Meat for a man.

And mutton; juicy, greasy, succulent mutton. Is there any food on this earth more elegant in its simplicity? The chefs of the 49th Feast would have agreed with me. The stories I've heard all say that it was roasted mutton, prepared in the traditional Atari fashion, that was the first meat course of the Feast, served on the seventh day. It wasn't a pretentious concontion like honeycrumbled heron or Somnambulant Beef. It was a simple haunch of mutton, rubbed with salt and herbs and turned on a spit. A man's dish. A dish a solider would relish for his last.

By all accounts, it's no wonder that the 49th feast ended badly. If I had to wait seven days to get to the meat, I would have run sombody through by the end of day three. Lord Brannon Blackstone must have been a much more patient man that I, since he made it all the way to day nine before he started killing people.

- Marcello Josse

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