Tanjiin Ceaorc (tan-JEAN KYE-ork)
Way out in the depths of the Rhegev Desert, life is hard. Water is a scarcity, and food is sometimes impossible to come by, so it must be carried if one is forced to travel that far beyond civilized lands. It is vital, then, that this food last for a very long time in extreme weather conditions. It is also imperative that the rations be packed with calories.
The amount of energy it takes to keep oneself alive in the deep desert is simply astounding. Actively resting, under shade, during the datlight hours is a must if one is to survive. And slow, but steady, travel by the light of the two moons is by far the safest way to go about getting to one's destination for many reasons. The environment is not the least of which, by any means, because while life is scarce in the desert, it does exist in the desert. Life will, as life always does, find a way. There are, of course, times when predators will try to kill and eat an unwary traveler. Hungry is what it it is, and desperate animals are almost as dangerous as desperate sapients. Almost.
Tangentially, there are unwritten rules, out in the deep desert. Rules that teach a traveler how to discipline themselves with water use and prevent it's waste. Rules on why and how to shelter, and when. There is an old saying; "For every law of the land, there are three unwritten rules." The smart arses amongst them, of course, like to point out that since there is officially no ruler, or law of any kind, out in the desert, that means that there are truly no unwritten rules. Zero times anything is zero after all, they point out, usually just before the schoolyard bully at The Bardic College Campus gives them a really giant, rash-inducing wedgie. However much this tangent may digress from the original point, the narrative return is thus; many of these unwritten rules are recipes for travel food. Of these, by far the most popular is tanjiin cearc.
Creating a light, fluffy-crusted pie out of fowl, tuber vegetables and rendered fat, there is a specific set of actions taken to create it, in a specific order, and that is very rarely strayed from unless the cook is desperate. First, seeds from the hardscrabble grass of the verges of the sand are collected. Two handfuls of them are plenty, though many of the ancient rhymes call for three, so as to let a handful go in the wind and spread them anywhere the breeze will blow. The instructions then entreat the cook to take the two handfuls of seeds and scrape them between two rocks to grind them into flour. Add some water from your canteen, and a little bit of your salt stash, and cut in some rendered fat until the mixture resembles coarse pebbles. Pat it all together between your hands tomake a cap big enough to cover your camp mug. Kill and butcher a bird, being careful to avoid the bones and bile, and cook the carcass over the fire, sans extremeties, on an iron spit. Dry the white meat in the sun after cooking off any germs that may have taken root while the bird (most likely a scavenger of some sort) was alive. Take the wings and legs, and simmer them in a pot with some water, raisins, cardamom pods and an anise star. Add also chopped tuber vegetables from a convenient oasis. Reduce the stew by about a third, and transfer the contents to your camp mug. Cover the simmered bird and broth with the pastry, and cook it not too close to the fire, until the top becomes golden brown. Brush down with some more rendered fat, and top with salt and cracked white peppercorns. Other recipes there are, certainly, from savory to sweet. Figs are very poplular in them, as are rosemary and salt crusted goat, and mint glazed lamb. But the traditional version is still by far the most popular, and shared with strangers along the road in an age old rite of greeting and welcome. It is unwritten rule #303.
Creating a light, fluffy-crusted pie out of fowl, tuber vegetables and rendered fat, there is a specific set of actions taken to create it, in a specific order, and that is very rarely strayed from unless the cook is desperate. First, seeds from the hardscrabble grass of the verges of the sand are collected. Two handfuls of them are plenty, though many of the ancient rhymes call for three, so as to let a handful go in the wind and spread them anywhere the breeze will blow. The instructions then entreat the cook to take the two handfuls of seeds and scrape them between two rocks to grind them into flour. Add some water from your canteen, and a little bit of your salt stash, and cut in some rendered fat until the mixture resembles coarse pebbles. Pat it all together between your hands tomake a cap big enough to cover your camp mug. Kill and butcher a bird, being careful to avoid the bones and bile, and cook the carcass over the fire, sans extremeties, on an iron spit. Dry the white meat in the sun after cooking off any germs that may have taken root while the bird (most likely a scavenger of some sort) was alive. Take the wings and legs, and simmer them in a pot with some water, raisins, cardamom pods and an anise star. Add also chopped tuber vegetables from a convenient oasis. Reduce the stew by about a third, and transfer the contents to your camp mug. Cover the simmered bird and broth with the pastry, and cook it not too close to the fire, until the top becomes golden brown. Brush down with some more rendered fat, and top with salt and cracked white peppercorns. Other recipes there are, certainly, from savory to sweet. Figs are very poplular in them, as are rosemary and salt crusted goat, and mint glazed lamb. But the traditional version is still by far the most popular, and shared with strangers along the road in an age old rite of greeting and welcome. It is unwritten rule #303.
History
Rule 303, and serving Tanjiin Ceaorc, began as your basic "ships passing in the night" type of campers along the trails, greeting one another with water, or tea.
Execution
As they would pass one another, they stop and make camp right there and then, lighting a fire, and cooking the Tanjiin Ceaorc out of ingredients they each will share. Traditionally, they split the dried and preserved white meat of the fowl.
Components and tools
A bow and some arrows, or a birding net, are important for catching the fowl. A basic camp kit, including a large drinking mug, is the only real requirement as far as tools, however.
Participants
Each traveller will pull some of the necessary ingredients from their stashes of food.
Observance
The passage of two travelers in the Rhegev Desert is so rare, that it is observed every time it happens.
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