The food was slightly above average, by this world's standards. It was a typical thick beef stew with hard crusty rolls to dip into it. The stew was still bubbling and scalding hot, since it was fresh from the soup pot. Some stewed beets to the side and a mug of beer completed the meal.

Robin stared pointedly at the beer. She had seen her brother guzzled down a cold can or two every so often. She also used it to make beer-battered fried fish. But it never occured to her to try and drink it after her first experience of bitterness.

Next to her, Christian was already lifting the mug up to his mouth. He had tried a spoonful of the stew, and scalded his tongue, so now he was drinking the beer to cool it. Robin watched his adam's apple bob as he gulped down half the mug at the start. Then she turned and looked enviously at Jasmine's apple cider.

Jasmine, noticing her stare, smiled apologetically. Robin sighed, and glared bitterly at her own drink. Beer: it was a mug filled with room temperature, fermented bread water. According to Robin's history cla.s.s, beer had been invented by monks in the 3rd century to replace food, so that the monks could try going 40 days without food. The failing result of that was beer.

And now Robin had to drink it.

She picked up a spoon and, blowing carefully on each spoonful, began slowly eating her food. But- even as she hoped it would not- it ended up catching Christian's attention.

"Are you not going to drink that? I tried it, myself. It's better than most local brews." Christian pointed out.

Robin paused and looked at Christian. While her brain was scrambling to think of a good excuse, Robin's face was completely deadpan. After a few moments, loaded with silence as she slowly chewed her bread, she finally finished and replied.

"Do you not have the custom of saving the best for last?"

It was a bunch of bull. Robin knew that it was a bunch of bull. But, did Christian know that?

Christian thought about it, then shrugged as he once more lifted his mug to his lips.

"Suit yourself." He answered, as he also tucked into the food before him, careful to blow upon it to cool it. Robin silently sighed with relief before also returning to eating her food. For the time being, she did not need to worry about drinking the beer.

Although modern chefs would shudder to serve it due to its unappealing appearance, Robin felt it tasted good, like home-cooking. It was much thicker than usual, but it was also much tastier than the dog-food like canned stews that she had bought occasionally.

'It could use a dash more of salt, and some wine might help give it a more savory flavour.' Robin noted as she dipped the hard bread into the soup, trying to soften it up. 'If only it was less viscous.' Robin frowned. Then she had an idea.

She stuck the whole piece of bread into the soup, and let it sit there as she poured half of the beer on top of it, into her hot bowl of stew, taking care not to spill any of it.

Keith, Christian, and the whole company stared at her in disbelief as she stirred the stew, combining the two together.

"What are you doing?" Christian asked, clearly confused.

"I changed my mind. I can't wait that long." Robin spoke another piece of BS. "Back where I am from, this is a popular dish. And I suddenly felt like eating it." Robin wasn't actually too sure of whether that was true, but she had a feeling the results wouldn't be too shabby.

Already, the warm yeasty scent of beer was rising up from her bowl. Robin took a spoonful. It was as she had thought, the dish tasted so much better. It had also cooled to an appropriate temperature that wouldn't burn her tongue. Robin tucked into the stew with gusto.

Christian and Keith looked at Robin doubtfully. How could adding beer to a stew make it taste any better? But the smell of the beer tangled with the stew, and drifted temptingly out towards the rest of the party.

Ponzu was the first of the others to try it, his eyes opened wide, and he began eating like he was a starved man. Soon Christian, Keith, and the knights couldn't help their curiosity and also poured part of their beer into their stew. The look on their faces was all it took for observers to know the addition was a good one.

Jasmine stared, dolefully at her apple cider, wis.h.i.+ng it was a half-mug of beer instead, while Gerard had swiped some beer from one of the knight's mugs, when he wasn't looking, to add it into the stew. Soon enough, the combined scent of the improved stew drifted out towards rest of the room.

Gulp. A nearby drinker, the oldest man among them all, swallowed his saliva down as he watched. Earlier, he had been dismissive of the youth that wasted his beer into his stew, but now the old man couldn't stand the appetizing smell tickling at his nose any longer.

"Hey, Old Kip! I'll have me a stew, and another mug of beer, here!" the old man called out. The locals in the room chortled.

"What? Old Angus is having himself some stew?" One asked, incredulous.

"What's the matter, old man? Is the beer not substantial enough for ye?" Another chortled as he teased.

"I dunno about you blokes..." Old Angus sniffed. "But if'n ye cant tell how good a food is by how it smells, then yer noses are as useless as a wooden dolls!"

"Hahhah, oh sure! An it only took adding a beer into the stew to make it edible, huh?" came the retorting jeer.

Straight away, a hot bowl of stew was placed before Old Angus, who dutifully poured half his beer into the brew, despite his aching heart at the sight. Although he had acted so confident before the men, he could only imagine what kind of flavor the stew would acquire.

'If this doesn't taste good, then I'll only drink cider fer the rest of me life.' He thought, and placed a spoonful straight into his mouth.

The bar room was quiet. While Old Angus ruminated upon the soup, a tear fell from his eyes, as they blurred before him.

"Well? What's the verdict, old man?" One of the men called out. "Is it good? Is it bad!? We're all dying to know!"

"...Good doesn't describe this." Angus began. "Instead-"

"So it's bad?" one of the men interrupted.

"Hush, you! Let old Angus speak, why don't you?" Another berated the interruptor.

Angus cleared his throat, and gave the interruptor a mean glare to shut him up.

"Instead, I think I need to praise the lad who brought such a delicious way of enjoying both beer, and stew." Angus said, as he nodded his head at Robin, and lifted up his mug.

"Three Cheers for our benefactor, now!" Angus called out, and the other men, laughingly agreed as they raised their beers.

"Hip Hip?"

"Hooray!"

"Hip Hip?"

"Hooray!"

"Hip Hip?"

"Hooray!"

Robin, under pressure, now had to drink up the rest of her beer, or else look ungrateful.

She raised her mug, and tipped her head back, as she finished it in one sitting. To her, instead of drawing out the suffering, it was better to get it over with in one go. After that, she refused another one.

"Sorry, I still need to be lucid later, so I can't." She told a man who offered to buy her a beer. Soon the entire room was busy indulging in the new spin on the old meal.

"Hey, young man, can we use your recipe for this inn?" The innkeeper asked.

"I don't see why not-." Robin was about to say, when Jasmine grabbed her arm.

"There are strict laws about the giving away recipes, Robin. This is to make sure that people don't steal recipes from restaraunts and leave to begin their own restaraunt without the owner's permission."

Robin looked at Jasmine. Then she turned to the innkeeper and smiled.

"I can't let you have it normally, it seems. Treat it as an accident. I carelessly spilled my beer into my soup, and discovered how good they taste together. You tried it out, too,and found that it was good. There. no loose ends. you were a co-discoverer, so feel free to serve this recipe as often as you'd like."

"You-you mean it?!" The innkeeper asked.

"Robin, you should at least recieve money for it. After all, it is your recipe." Jasmine pointed out.

"Fine. I will sell you the recipe for one silver." Robin stopped herself from rolling her eyes, as she held up a single finger.

The Innkeeper's eyes widened. "But, S-Sir Robin, you could easily sell this recipe for at least a gold coin!" He stammered.

Robin smiled wryly. "Consider it as me being generous for your honesty."

"No, no, I can't accept such a huge discount!" the inkeeper shook his head. Robin frowned and sat up, as they began discussions in earnest, as she continued eating.

It was a serious bout of haggling, where the buyer was trying to raise the price, and the seller was trying to lower it. Everyone in the room found it downright hilarious, as they watched the impromptu entertainment. Finally, Robin and the Innkeeper settled upon five large silver coins as the price, and the innkeeper happily paid the sum.

"Congratulations, you just earned half a gold in one sitting." Keith joked.

Robin smiled mischievously. "Now you make me wonder how much I would earn if I actually tried."

Christian rolled his eyes. "Now you know how I felt when you were trying to convince me to not give you that silver."

"That was different. there was already a price set for that food, you just blatantly ignored it." Robin retorted.

"Says the person who sold a recipe for half price." Christian teased.

"As the owner, I have the right to set the price." Robin said. "And one gold is too much for a simple alteration of an existing recipe."

Christian rolled his eyes. "I suppose that's acceptable, then."

.....

Ten years later, the dish that Robin sold to the innkeeper on a whim, became the famous local specialty for that town in the book "The Gourmet's Map of Foods."