The Legend of Sagey Pie

This is a Summer Camp article written AT GREAT SPEED! It has not yet been edited, so apologies for the copious typos and small text issues.

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Far and away, far and away, best beloved, there lived a great King in an underground kingdom, dwelling in a castle made entirely of colored gems. Yet the brightest jewel of all he had lost: his wife had passed away, leaving him a widower.


"Meat and potatoes, meat and potatoes. Why is it always meat and potatoes?" demanded the King, slamming his fork on the table in disgust.
Before him, his three royal cooks quivered in fear. Since the death of his wife, which the King refused to acknowledge, their monarch had grown increasingly dissatisfied with everything they had brought him. It seemed none but the Queen had been able to soothe the King, and she was gone.
"Make me something worthy of a King, or I will have you fed to the Miruhal," he growled, showing his teeth.


The three cooks scurried away, terrified, for the Miruhal was a giant squid that lived in the darkness of the underground lake outside the Crystal Palace, and it was known to take its time with its victims. Unwilling to succumb to a watery, tentacled fate, they set to work attempting to make a dish fit for a king.


The first cook was very fast and, first to the larder, she grabbed all the supplies of the King's three favourite foods - mushrooms, blue cheese, and bacon. You must remember, best beloved, that in this far and away time, most ingredients were eaten plain, and it was not common to combine them into the delicious dishes your mother feeds you today.


However, stumbling in her hurry, the first cook dropped the bacon and mushrooms into a nearby pot of boiling water. "I am doomed!" she said, setting the blue cheese on the side in dismay.


The second cook was crafty and, coming second into the larder, took all the elven ingredients that had been delivered by a recent delgation. If his king desired something different, he would use the vegetables of a different people to lure him with novelty... and perhaps stave off the Miruhal's tentacles from his future. But again, he stumbled, and his armfuls of fresh carrots and cabbage fell into a nearby vat of vinegar, maturing on the worktop.


By the time the third cook reached the larder, she was dismayed - all the best ingredients were gone from the palace larder, leaving only... meat and potatoes! The very thing the King had complained about.

With meat and potatoes in her arms, she looked around the kitchen to see the other cooks crying over their mixed up ingredients. But where the other two cooks saw adversity, the third cook saw an opportunity. She became inspired.
"What if we work together to all save ourselves from the Miruhal's tentacles. For is the whole not often greater than the sume of its parts?"
The other two cooks nodded, eager to learn how the third cook hoped to save them from this mixed up disaster. And then, working together for the first time, they began to cook...

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"I'm Hungry!"
It was a few hours later, and the King's voice echoed into the kitchen from the Throne Room.
Nervously, the three cooks looked at each other, and carried their dishes to the King.
"You," demanded the King, pointing to the first cook. "What have you brought me to save yourself from the Miruhal?"


Shuddering, the first cook almost slopped the soup she had made - the first ever soup made, best beloved - as she set it down before the king. "This is a soup of mushrooms and bacon, for you like them so much apart I thought I should combine them to something greater."
The King glowered at the dish, picked up the bowl, and took a sip. As the richness of bacon melded with the earthiness of the mushrooms, all set a-tingle by the sharpness and crunch of crispy, blue cheese croutons on the top, a smile brightened on the King's face.
"I supposed you have done well," the King said grudgingly, when he had finished the bowl. "And saved yourself from the Miruhal. But I am still hungry."


"That, sire, is because the three dishes are one meal together. As each ingredient is blended together, so each dish cannot do without the others," said the crafty second cook, winking at the wise third cook. "Here is your second dish," he said, presenting the pickled carrots and cabbages. "But it is to be eaten with the last," he added in a hurry, as the King took a mouthful with stern eyebrows.
The King chewed thoughtfully, for a full minute, and sweat dripped down the second cook's brow as he watched, already imagining the strong tentacles grasping his ankles.
"It is crunchy, and it is tangy, and it is fresh, and I find it pleasing to the tongue. But I am STILL HUNGRY!" the King finished, shouting.


"Indeed, sire, because you have not had your final dish of the meal," said the wise third cook, as she set the last dish on the table.
"What is this?" demanded the King, "This is... MEAT AND POTATOES! Take her to the Miruhal!"
"Wait, my wise sire," said the third cook, very quickly indeed, best beloved, as the guards walked towards her. "The meat is finest cave rabbit, which is fast and cunning. And it is seasoned and tempered with a Sage and Rosemary and a great many herbs and spices, as your many experiences have seasoned your wisdom. And the potato, well, it is the most hardy and adaptable vegetable of all. Crafted into a great white beard, of course, in honor of your own. I call it Sagey Pie, sire, because it is as sage as you are, my King.

The King held up his hand to still the guards, took his fork, and dug through the layers of mashed potato and meat, and took a bite. The third cook held her breath.
As the morsel hit his tongue, the King shut his eyes, and tears dripped down his moustached cheeks. And then he sobbed, best beloved, and then he bawled, and with each sob he took another bite until the sagey pie was gone.


For, as the wise third cook had known, the queen had worn a perfume of Sage and Rosemary. The King was not tired of food, best beloved. He was tired of grief.

When the dish was at last empty, the King nodded to each of the three cooks, and waved the guard away, and, for the very first time, went to visit the Queen's grave.


And from that day to this, my best beloved, the humble Sagey Pie has been the food of Dwarven Kings, and cooks have always been the wisest of us.

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Idioms

Several idioms have arisen from the legend, the most prominent being the following.

"It's the Miruhal, whatever I do": Meaning, "I'm doomed, regardless of the choices I make".

"Like cooks before a king": a group of terrified beings, perhaps similar to "like rabbits before the bow".

Sagey Pie, also known as Sage's Pie, is a popular dwarven dish. You can find the recipe here.