How to Cook a Dragon
Fiction - by Caroline Misner
In this chapter, I would like to introduce a recipe for a delicacy known as Whole Roast Dragon, a rare treat for even the most powerful and noblest of kings. I must warn you first that the preparation of such a grand feast takes several days, plus several days more for the actual cooking process, but it is well worth the effort. As a fellow chef to a royal, you understand that Roast Dragon is not a meal to be prepared lightly. It takes great skill and patience and my instructions must be followed to the letter, else you risk poisoning your banquet guests, or worse, inciting the wrath of the dragons.
I first encountered this dish at a celebratory feast commemorating the Battle of Wazenfide after my sovereign, King Jesop, and his army returned victorious from a six-day battle fighting the Caul Tribes in the east. A victory celebration was in order. To mark the occasion, King Jesop decreed a banquet of Whole Roast Dragon to be shared with all the townsfolk and citizenry, a celebration that lasted several days and did not end until the dragon’s bones had been picked clean and the wine and ale had run out.
I was in my seventh year of apprenticeship to King Jesop’s head chef, the great Master Chef Goren Greneer. What an honor to have been personally chosen by him from a pool of over 100 applicants. I learned so much from Chef Greneer, such as how to prepare his famed hummingbird pie, unicorn liver pâté and pastries sweetened not with honey but the tears of a fairy. You will find recipes for these dishes and many more in subsequent chapters in this cookbook. I must take this opportunity to say how honored I am to share his recipes and techniques with you, dear chef, so that you may prepare them in the manner of the great master.
The entire procedure will take about a week. The dragon must be served as soon as it is taken off the fire in order for the guests to fully savor its richness and unique favor. You will need to assemble a team of servants beforehand: strong hearty souls willing to work day and night, perhaps fifty people altogether, but the number largely depends on the size and age of the dragon and the number of guests attending the banquet.
Complement of Staff
*One brave knight on horseback and his entourage
*20-30 strong men skilled at woodcutting
*10 butchers
*10 fishmongers
*10-18 scullery maids of virtue true
*One wizard
You may need to recruit additional staff from the townsfolk or a neighboring kingdom. If you do so, it is imperative to have your master invite the king and his entourage. Negligence to do so is an unpardonable breach of etiquette and could result in a declaration of war.
The ingredient list is straightforward as you probably have these items already in your larder, save for the dragon:
Ingredients
*One large dragon, freshly killed
*10 barrels of clarified butter
*The sweet evergreen boughs from the tree selected for skewering the dragon
*one large pumpkin
About one week before the banquet, have the skilled men dig a fire pit at least as deep as your root cellar and wide enough to accommodate a dragon, about the size of a large fishing barge. Line the pit with stones.
Have the men fell a fragrant evergreen tree of your choosing, depending on what flavor you want to impart into the meat. I prefer spruce, but you can use whatever your signature flavor may be. Trim off all bark and branches, saving the boughs for the fire. You will have a nice clean log to skewer the carcass, but make sure it is long enough to span the pit.
Start the fire in the fire pit, adding wood as necessary and layering the sweet evergreen boughs with regular hardwood. Keep the fire going for about three days, until glowing hot embers simmer in the pit and fragrant smoke billows across the courtyard. This will require exact vigilance. Your scullery maids and apprentices will have to work in shifts to ensure hot, even coals for the day of roasting.
While your staff attends the fire, you must procure a dragon. Thankfully, we chefs are rarely required to capture our own game. Have your master send his bravest knight and his retinue on a quest, preferably to the Mountains of Sorrow, where the tenderest and juiciest of dragons are known to live. There are dragons beyond the snow-capped Mlark Alps, but their meat is not as tasty and the carcass may begin to decay during the long transport home. The best dragons are fairly young, between 1,000 and 1,500 years old. Anything older than that tends to be stringy with a distinct and unpleasant sulfur aftertaste.
Once the knight has slain the dragon, he must get it to your kitchen as soon as possible for butchering, as dragons tend to decay rather quickly. Dragging the carcass with a rope tied around its neck is perfectly acceptable as the friction from the ground helps loosen the scales.
If you are lucky, a knight may bring you a dragon from a victorious campaign. Dragons who have died in battle have the sweetest meat, as they died blowing fire on their foes.
Once the dragon is brought to you, summon the butchers. The head is left intact for dramatic presentation, but the limbs are removed at the upper joints. The talons are indigestible, but once separately roasted, they provide a tasty, chewy treat for the hounds. The wings are removed and the webbing cut into small strips which can be preserved in wine and enjoyed later. I have several recipes for dragon wings in a subsequent chapter entitled “Cooking for the Fae Folk.”
Before the dragon is gutted, summon the fishmongers to remove all scales left on the body. They may need to employ the use of large saws, as the scales tend to be very stiff and unyielding. The scales can be saved for another use or given to the royal dressmaker to adorn Her Majesty’s gowns.
When the carcass is fully scaled, the butchers are ready to split the belly. It is not necessary to summon the wizard. He will know, instinctively or by magic, when to come. You will notice there is very little blood, and the little blood that is present is quicksilver. The dragon is easily gutted as there are few entrails and no other major organs. You will notice that the heart is still beating. If it is not, discard the carcass immediately, preferably down a gorge, and await the wrath of the dragons.
Only the wizard can remove the beating heart. First, he will bless the dragon with incantations and psalms of thanks. Then he will reach into the hollow of its body and carry the beating heart back to the Mountains of Sorrow. The dragon cannot be eaten or even cooked until the wizard places the heart in a cave and leaves it there for a new fledgling dragon to emerge. This is a vital part of the butchering process. To skip this step may resurrect the dragon during the feast and cause uncontrolled havoc among the party guests.
The tinderbox at the base of the throat is the last organ to be removed. It is inedible and should be discarded immediately. To cook the dragon with its tinderbox in place will impart that unpleasant sulfur flavor, no matter what age of the dragon, and you risk causing a fiery explosion during the cooking process.
Skewer the dragon on the log from tail to throat. You may need to secure the body with ropes to keep it from flopping around. Place the skewered dragon on a spit over the coals and commence cooking. Allow the dragon to roast for three days, all the while basting it with the clarified butter. Again, you will need to utilize the services of your kitchen staff to feed the fire and crank the spit. I have found that that scullery maids are very adept at basting the dragon, using clean mops as brushes to ensure even cooking and crispiness. (Note: If you baste the dragon in this manner, be sure to use only clean, fresh mops—not the ones you use to swab your kitchen floors.)
The day before the banquet, place the large pumpkin in the dragon’s mouth. If the teeth are still intact, they should hold the pumpkin in place, otherwise use wooden stakes pinned into the jaws. Slather some of the clarified butter on the pumpkin and continue cooking for another day.
By the third day, you will notice the skin has crisped into a shiny dark honey-like sheen and the courtyard is filled with the unique, rich aroma of a properly cooked dragon. Prepare the banquet hall and summon the king and his guests. Since finding a properly sized platter is all but impossible, you may place the roast dragon directly on a large table decorated with gold and silver foil.
The service of roast dragon is always accompanied by great fanfare. Trumpeters blow their horns, banners and flags are waved, the lamps are lowered to the dimmest light as the roast is carried into the hall and laid across the table directly before of the king. You cannot imagine what a sight it is. Smoke curls from the dragon’s nostrils and the pumpkin is glowing red, mimicking the fire a dragon breathes. If you are lucky, the moisture inside the pumpkin spontaneously erupts, spewing hot orange fluid, further feeding the illusion that a live dragon is in the room. This is met with gasps and exclamations of surprise from the guests.
It is the chef’s honor to be the one to carve the dragon. Depending on its size, you may need to use some sort of long sharp instrument, but I find that a common saber works very well. The skin is crispy, with a thin layer of fat beneath it. The meat is pale pink, though fully cooked, and very juicy. Begin by shearing slices off the side of the belly, where the most succulent meat resides, slicing against the grain to ensure maximum tenderness. The king will probably have a special jewel-encrusted platter that he has saved for such an occasion. Place the dragon slices on it and present it to His Majesty, bending to one knee with your head bowed as is protocol for serving royalty in this kingdom.
If you have followed my instructions precisely, His Majesty will be pleased and you will still have your head attached when you rise.
Once the king eats the first bite, the banquet guests are allowed to partake. The lamps are relit and the orchestra begins playing. This would be a good opportunity for your apprentice to practice his carving skills. Serve the dragon with a crusty, hearty bread and stewed greens, some honey cakes and perhaps a sour condiment such as pickled beets to help cut through the richness of the meat.
I recommend a robust red wine, such as those found in the southern provinces, particularly from the vineyards of our sister kingdom, Nador. The dryer the wine the better, although I have known some kings who prefer a sweeter vintage to accompany their meal. A dry white wine is also acceptable but it doesn’t enhance the flavor the same way a red wine can. If you must serve white wine, I recommend a nice Chablis from the eastern provinces where the cooler, rainier evenings impart a special flavor to the grapes.
The banquet could last for several days, depending on the celebration. Leftovers can be served cold as a quick luncheon the next day, layered on dark brown bread with a nice grainy mustard. Remove the bones and save them, as they can be used to make an excellent stock for soup. A recipe for my delicious dragon bisque can be found in the next chapter “Soups, Stews and Other Things You Can Boil in a Cauldron.”
Note: Of late, there have been several reports of hucksters selling dragon at the markets in the outlying provinces to the west. They are reportedly sold already butchered, gutted and scaled and some are already skewered and ready for the spit. I must warn you, these are not real dragons. They are sold already dressed to camouflage the fact that they are actually the giant crocodiles that inhabit the marshlands of the western provinces. These charlatans are very convincing in their approach and even a seasoned chef, like my good friend the late Chef Jubal, can be duped. Do not buy them (roast dragon can only be prepared freshly slain) and certainly do not prepare them for the king. If found out, you risk losing your head.