Learn from a Local Master

The next morning, I went to the market at Rosenhart Harbor.

Just because it was a harbor in a noble domain didn't mean the market was elegant.

Fish caught at dawn came tumbling out in their wooden crates, ice and seaweed wet the ground, and fishermen shouted out prices at the tops of their lungs.

Clams spurted water inside large baskets, while crustaceans clattered their shells with their legs tangled together.

It was wonderful.

There were things here I could never learn from the neatly arranged delivery crates in the capital.

How fish were handled on the way to market, which ones were good or bad, and which ones still had vigor despite looking ugly.

Those were things you had to see on-site.

Marco looked a little excited beside me.

“Chef, this way. That old woman knows this area best when it comes to crustaceans and seafood. She knows my family elders, so I’ve come to see her a few times before.”...