When Brayden Larkspur left his home his mother had given him some advice. “Always face your challenges head on,” she said as she handed him a bag full of little things he would need. “Just look at the trouble dead in the eye and do your best. You can accomplish much when you do.”

At the moment however, Brayden wanted to do anything but look at the challenge straight on. Not many could look up at a visibly irate minotaur that towered over you and bristled with muscles. The huge figure shook his head and Brayden’s eyes were drawn to horns several feet long that came to a wicked point before he flinched from the howling. “I’m so sorry sir!” Brayden squeaked, cursing himself for his cracking voice. “I’ll get you another one-“

“Ya better!” The minotaur slammed a hand on the counter top. “I don’t come here to get wrong food. Ya better hurry or else-“

The door behind Brayden slammed open. A patter of steps and something else hit the countertop next to the minotaur’s hand. The curved head of a deep ladle slapped the wooden counter, the ironwood tool made a deep sound. The handle of the ladle was much longer than most and it seemed even longer held in the hand of its owner.

The wielder appeared, hopping onto a stool. Long raven black hair, braided and tied, topped deep forest green skin. Large pointed ears poked up from either side of a round head. Amber gold eyes peered from large sockets and normally smiling lips of reddish hue were twisted in a frown. The goblin woman slammed the ladle onto the counter again and she pointed at the minotaur. He quailed, shrinking visibly from the much smaller figure. “Or else what?” she asked, voice loaded with threat. “What’re you gonna to do, Thrax? Tell me.”

“No-Nothing Lou,” the minotaur replied sheepishly. Watchers began to chuckle, some jeering the horned man and others cheering on the goblin woman. “Been a tough few days and the ship’s running late. The food just don’t look right, and I’m really hungry, so I thought…”

Lowena Long-Ladle, proprietress of the Gobblin’ Goblin snorted, a rich sound that seemed too deep for her slight frame. “You thought to bully my new kid ‘cause you’re hungry…” she sneered and jabbed her ladle at the Minotaur’s expansive stomach. She looked at the bowl in question, peering at the contents.

Turning to the order window she poked her ladle through. A dab of rich brown paste was nabbed on the end of the ladle, followed by a scoop of golden broth. She added the mixture to the bowl and her ladle dipped again, a handful of chopped scallions returned with it. She flipped the tool, the other end of the ladle held two tines like a fork. She jabbed and brought through the window some sparkling feather ginger. Green fingers dipped into an apron pocket and she popped the top of a vial, delicately sprinkling some fiery red powder into the bowl.

Beckoning Brayden over, she pulled a clean spoon from his apron pocket and dipped it into the bowl, mixing the liquid together until the broth thickened. Flecks of the fiery red pepper floated in droplets of clear oil and she nodded with approval. She handed the spoon back to the human boy, motioning him to taste before she carried the bowl back to the front counter. She set it down before the minotaur, her eyes gazing levelly at the tall man. “How’s that?”

Thrax took the bowl gratefully, his fur curled with embarrassment. “Looks great Lou.”

She slapped the ladle on the table again. “You bet your horns it does! Just a simple mistake, don’t get your tail in a twist. Now whaddya say?” As the minotaur murmured an apology to Brayden and the boy nodded in reply, mouth full of the spicy savory broth, Lowena beamed. “There, nothin’ to be upset over. Now we’re all friends again.” She pointed the ladle to the patrons within the eatery. “Any other problems or concerns?” A chorus of No’s was her reply.

“Any compliments or praises then?” She threw her head back and laughed heartily as the patrons cheered and lavished praise upon her and the food. “And don’t y’all forget it!” She waved her ladle like a parade master’s baton. “Eat up now and return soon, ‘specially you Wheat-Ear. You’re lookin’ too skinny.” The dwarf in question laughed, slapping his rotund stomach and the room filled with the sounds of happy chatter and happier eating.

Lowena gestured with her ladle, bidding Brayden to follow her back into the kitchen. His shoulders curled with disappointment and he waited miserably for the yelling to come. When the door closed behind them no scolding appeared. Instead the goblin looked up at him expectantly. “You understand what you did wrong?”

The boy nodded. “I grabbed the wrong bowl and the broth didn’t have the miso mixed in yet. I just added the sesame oil and the oil and the broth was too weak, no richness.” He showed her the well licked spoon. “I could really taste the difference, plus it looked richer when everything was mixed right. I’m sorry ma’am.”

“And?”

He gulped. “It won’t happen again. I’ll be sure to read the tickets right and not just rush things out unprepared.” He grunted, all the air knocked from his lungs. Lowena slapped him on the back with her open hand, a hearty pat that felt just as hard as her ironwood ladle.

“Attaboy!” she exclaimed. “Mistakes were made but they were fixed. Learn your lesson and do better, that’s all anyone can ask. Now smile kid, your face is covered in clouds and can’t have any rain in here, will ruin the broth. Come on now, like this!” She pulled her lips up with her finger tips in an exaggerated smile.

Brayden smiled weakly, mind still stuck on his mistake and ears still rang from the bellowing minotaur. He felt better that things had resolved without more yelling. Yet he could not shift his mood as fast as she could, or as easy.

Lowena nodded. “Good. Keep up the good work. Now let’s hustle, lunch ain’t over yet. Chop chop!” She pointed at a tall chopping block and a pile of rainbow hued carrots that sat beside it. “Seriously, chop those corusca carrots. We’re running out and we need it. Hop to!”

Brayden rushed to the block and got to work, the peels of the carrots came flying off. They constantly changed color under his knife and as soon as they were peeled he began to slice them into long thin strips.

With another nod Lowena strode away, her ladle dipped into bubbling pots and she brought their steaming contents to her lips and nose, adding spices as needed and casting judgement on them. “Good! This stock is done. Strain and season with the broth spice mix and get it simmerin’, we’re about out.” She turned and poked through a pan of stone grouse thighs waiting for the grill. “Roland! More fireweed and salt crystals on these before they hit the fire. These grouse are from Iron Hills so they’re more gamey than what we usually get. The fireweed will help with that.”

“Yes chef,” the thin faced elf replied. Slender fingers found the packs of fireweed and he struck the stalks and leaves with the back of a knife before he scattered them over the waiting thighs. When the meat hit the grill the fire flared bright, the air smelled of smoke and pepper as the potent seasoning caught light.

Orders came in with frightening speed and food went out as fast they were made, many times the food barely settling on plate and bowl before taken up by the servers. Lowena stood in the center on her stool of stone and wood, reaching out with her ladle and directing the staff much like an orchestra master. Through the clatter of pans, the whoosh of fire and hiss of steam, her voice cut through the noise with ease.

The handle on the back door jiggled, someone trying to open it from outside. She frowned, unsure of who would try to force entry in the middle of the lunch rush. She gestured and Roland weaved his way through the kitchen, opening the door.

“About time,” a man grumbled, pushing his way past the elf and dropping a crate on the kitchen floor. It crashed down, a bag split at the side and a handful of hopping beans hit the ground. The force snapped their husks and they started to hop and jump around the floor, ricocheting off in all directions.

“Hey!” Lowena swung her ladle about, catching the beans in the scoop as they shot around. She dunked the ladle into a bowl of ice water. Immediately the beans stopped bouncing, the chilled temperature slowing them down. “Watch it! What’re you doin’?!”

The man looked down at her and sniffed. “Delivering obviously. Your order from Zysco shipping. Got more stuff in the wagon out back-.“ His eyes widened as Lowena swung the ladle back at him, splashing him with cold water.

“That order was supposed to come hours ago!” Lowena glared up at the man and he took a step back, startled by her vehement glare. “You show up hours late AND in the middle of the lunch rush?”

“The shipments came late!” he snarled. His face grew red as his indignation rose. “It took us time to get it and we had to go to other places first. You should be happy that you’re getting your stuff now. We’ll just pile it here and you can sign for the invoice.”

“Not happenin’,” the goblin snarled back. “We’re busy and no one has time to inspect the order and I ain’t signin’ an invoice that ain’t checked. You can just wait out back in the wagon until we slow down or you can cart it all back and come back later. It better be good, I can tell if you chuck it about.” She scooped out the wet hopping beans and wrapped them in a cloth before tossing them back into the crate. “And I’ll count every bean!”

“I’ll be damned if I listen to a goblin tell me what to do!” His shout cut through the kitchen and all stopped and stared at him. He looked about, face red from anger and sudden embarrassment. “I’m not talking to some lackey. I want to talk to the chef, Lou.” He turned to Roland. “That you?”

The elf smiled back without merriment. “You have no idea what you just did,” Roland replied with laughter full of mean spirit.

Despite being less than half the man’s height and many times less his weight, the goblin woman seemed to tower over him. Her spirit drove him back and he wilted as she pointed her ladle at him. “Do you know what this is?” She asked, running a hand lovingly over the implement. He opened his mouth to reply but she continued. “This is a ladle, made from ironwood cut from the ForeverGreen basin, the hardest wood in the world. It’s the toughest wood, stands any fire but dragon fire, and light in the hands. This ladle was made to my specifications, much longer than any other ladle you’re gonna come across.”

She waggled it back and forth and the man’s eyes followed it. “Since I’m using it then it must be mine. Now who runs this eatery?” Again, the man opened his mouth and again she cut him off. “Lowena, known as Lou to friends and family, Long-Ladle. This eatery, the Gobblin’ Goblin, one of the best places to eat in all of Nova Valora, is owned and ran by Lowena Long-Ladle. Me.” She pointed at her chest and the man’s red face went pale. “You ain’t talkin’ to some goblin lackey. You’re talkin’ to the head chef herself. So, you,” the man flinched as the ladle pointed at him again, “are gonna take the goods back, and someone else better bring them back later in prime condition or you can tell your father how you lost him the business of one of his oldest customers!”

She waved her namesake and Roland grabbed the man, turning him around and pushed him out the door. As he shut the door Brayden yelled, “Wait!” With a grunt the boy hefted the heavy crate and shoved it into the arms of the bewildered shaking man. Then the boy and elf slammed the door shut to the cheering of the kitchen.

Lowena grinned at them. “Good on ya kid. Alright!” The ladle rang off a pan like a bell. “Back to work! Lunch is almost done and then it’s time to stuff our gobs before dinner.”

Finally, the lunch rush was over, the crowds of sated customers left and the eatery quieted down. The staff left the kitchen holding plates of their own, glad to be free from the heat and steam. Brayden stood at the sink, washing the last of the dishes. He worked without seeing, his mind mulling over the near miss with the soup earlier.

He felt the curve of the ladle on his arm and let it pull him away from the sink. He looked down, wiping away at a tear of frustration, and he felt some comfort at Lowena’s smiling face. “Alright kid, you did good today.” She ignored his snort. “You did, mistakes don’t mean you did bad. Come on, have somethin’ to eat.” She pushed a brimming bowl in front of him. He winced a little, recognizing the dish but the goblin motioned at him. “Made it special for you. Hurry while it’s hot.”

He picked up a spoon half heartedly, plunging the utensil into the fragrant broth. Golden brown sesame oil gave way to the spoon, drops of it sitting on the deep brown grouse stock beneath. He raised it to his lips, blew away some of the steam before he sipped. The fiery liquid rolled over his tongue and he almost spat it out from the intense spiciness. He coughed, forcing himself to swallow, and he felt the fiery liquid slide slowly down his throat. It seemed to heat him up from within, every inch it passed woke up from its touch. His stomach filled with warmth and he smiled broadly, looking down at the soup.

“There’s the sunshine,” Lowena said with a smile that matched his own. “Tastes good doesn’t it?”

He nodded happily, eating hungrily now. He scooped up grains of black sand rice, the fragrant grains breaking apart between his teeth. Pieces of stone grouse fell apart in his mouth, the heat from the fireweed completed the sweet corsuca carrots. As soon as the bowl emptied another portion was poured into it.

Brayden watched her as he ate. She walked up and down the kitchen with the same energy, inspecting simmering pots and ingredients. She had stood up to people far bigger than her, made them back down, and yet was as happy as she always seemed to be while being calm and caring with the staff. Before he could stop himself, he heard himself speak. “How do you do it?”

“Do what? Cook?”

He blushed. “No, I mean, how are you so…happy still. I almost ruined the lunch rush but you calmed down Thrax and fixed things, and you showed that jerk while keeping everything going.” The boy shook his head with wonder. “I don’t understand how you can do it. It never ends, it just starts over and keeps going. How do you do it?”

She sipped from the ladle thoughtfully. “You learn. You take everythin’ that happens, the good and the bad and you learn from them. How to cook, deal with folks, run a restaurant, to teach. You think I was always this tough?” She grinned and dimples appeared. “I mean, I was, but bein’ a chef made me tougher. Others in the past tried to keep me down just cause I’m smaller, just a goblin. But I got back up every day cause it never ended, and I swore it wouldn’t end me. I learned to scrap and cook better every day, and here I am.”

She patted the boy’s arm, face sincere. “You’ll get there too kid. You made a mistake earlier, but you learned. The rest of the day you thought about what you were doin’. I could tell. I know you won’t make that mistake again. You’ll keep learnin’ like I do and one day you’ll be the one teachin’ and cookin’.”

Her smile returned and it was her brightest yet. “My master, an orc from the Iron Fangs, would say everyone needs to eat to survive. Anyone can cook to survive. When folk come to your restaurant and they pay money to eat your food, they’re eatin’ to live. It’s a chef’s responsibility to ensure they eat well, live well, and come back. I’ve always taken that to heart, my Chef’s Pledge.”

She filled his bowl again and started to make something for herself. As she worked, she began to recite. Brayden felt the soup warm his body as the goblin chef’s words warmed his heart.

From skies above and earth below,
Food we take to make and grow.
I thank the land for its bountiful gift,
And the spirits of the Gods I uplift.

I take the bounty and do my part,
To cook and serve with all my heart.
With every sip and every bite,
I offer you my restaurant’s respite.

I will work merry and bright,
Your enjoyment is my heart’s delight.
To see your smile I would be blessed,
And cook with every skill possessed.

When you return my heart will sing,
Bursting from the joy you bring.
With a smile I will say,
What would you like to eat today?