#ATTBTA

[iamtaran]

Mushroom Leek Soup with Parsley Dumplings - ATTBTA

There have been multiple people who have asked after this soup recipe. It is hands down my favourite soup I’ve ever made, both at home as well as professionally. It’s the kind of soup that makes my dad say things like, “now, that’s so good it’d ‘bout make your tongue slap your brains out,” which always makes my mum look at him as if he’s lost his mind. Hopefully you will enjoy it just as much, brain-slapping notwithstanding. Measurements of spices have been guestimated as best I can, but in the end it all was eyeballed from the start and so will be more like alchemy and art than following a recipe. Try it yourself! Add more onion, more mushrooms, use shallots, mix it up! Figure out how you like it, what looks right, and enjoy! As a warning, this soup can take quite a while to make (a couple hours, I’d say?) as there are multiple pots used and, of course, making dumplings takes a bit of time. If you’ve someone to help you, make an event of it. Eat snacks, drink beverages, laugh and listen to music. Or, if you are working by yourself, have the same fun with yourself. :) Recipe details below the cut.

INGREDIENTS

SOUP

2 cups water

3/4 ounce dried porcini mushrooms. Very important that they’re porcini!

2 1/2 Tbsp oil, olive or rapeseed

3 Tbsp butter

6 garlic cloves, minced

1 pound crimini (baby bella) mushrooms, sliced

1 Tbsp dried thyme. Fresh works too.

Fine sea salt

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1/3 cup red wine (minimum), any kind-- fruity, dry, tart, been open for 3 weeks (oops)

1 large onion, quartered and sliced

3-4 leeks, washed, halved, cut into wee half moons up to the pale green. Tops can be kept frozen with other veggie bits to make homemade vegetable broth later.

8 cups vegetable or chicken broth, chef’s choice. Never tried it with beef but I don’t doubt it would be good

Pinch of red pepper flakes; heavy pinch if it’s cold out.

1 heaping Tbsp of paprika

Big handful of fresh chives, chopped, for garnish. You’re going to want a lot, trust me.

1 tsp white sugar

A whole bunch of black pepper. Don’t be shy. A bay leaf. Two bay leaves. The whole tree. (No, only 2) **Optional: a heavy dash of worcestershire in with the broth/liquid!

DUMPLINGS

1/3 cup sour cream

6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter, room temperature, chopped into cubes or pats

2 large eggs, room temperature

1 cup all purpose flour, divided

1 teaspoon fine sea salt

Heavy pinch of ground nutmeg

1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese

3/4 cup finely chopped fresh Italian parsley. Or just a bunch. Eye ball it, all the above measurements are made up with a shrug anyway.

PREPARATION

Bring 2 cups water and porcini mushrooms to boil in small saucepan. Let that sit to the side, covered, while you do the next few steps.

Heat oil in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Add crimini mushrooms and saute a couple minutes until they start releasing moisture. Dump in thyme, paprika, chopped garlic, black pepper, and red pepper flakes. Sprinkle with sea salt and sauté another couple minutes until the garlic is fragrant. Pour in the red wine and red wine vinegar and let it bubble away for a bit until there’s a bit less liquid and your mushrooms and done.

Melt the butter in another heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion; saute until they start to go limp and translucent. Add in the sugar and stir, continuing to cook until they start to brown juuuust a bit. Add leeks; reduce heat to medium, sprinkle with sea salt, and sauté until vegetables are soft and golden, stirring often, about another 15 minutes. Don’t worry if the bottom of the pan starts to get little brown ghosts of onions appearing on it. That’s a good thing, scrape all that up with the onions and dump them into your soup pot where you cooked the mushrooms.

Return to your porcini mushrooms. Take them from the (now dark brown) mushroom liquid, squeeze out the excess, and shop them small. Toss your porcini bits into the pot with everything else. Pour in reserved mushroom cooking liquid, through a sieve to catch any sediment. Pour in your broth of choice and bring to a boil. Simmer 10-15 minutes so the flavors can percolate and deepen.

DUMPLINGS:

Mix together your flour, salt, nutmeg, and parmesan. Add in the two eggs and mix, with a fork or with your fingertips, until you have a bunch of semi-moist lumps of flour. Add in your sour cream and 6 Tbsp butter and work together, again with fork or with finger tips. As the dough begins to come together, toss in your chopped parsley and fold it in. This dough is wet and sloppy, but should be workable. Add up to another 1/2 cup flour; it all depends on your humidity, you want it still sticky but workable! Once it’s come together, fold for another 2-3 minutes. Add a little more flour if you want firmer dumplings similar to pierogie dough or if it’s too wet and sticky to manage;

Bring large pot of salted water to boil. Using a teaspoon or just your fingers, scoop pieces/pinches of dough about the size of a cherry. Drop into boiling water. Working quickly, repeat about 10 more times. When dumplings rise to surface, simmer until cooked through, 2 1/2 to 3 minutes. Using slotted spoon, transfer dumplings to large plate. Repeat with remaining dough. Make double dumplings if you, like me, are here for the dumps. Also, if the water isn’t too heavily salted (though the dumplings do absorb some as they cook), let it cool and dump it on your garden or lawn for a little pick me up for the plants. Or maybe ladle one ladlefull into the main soup pot for a bit extra of that flavor. Whatever pleases you.

Melt 3 tablespoons butter in large skillet over medium heat. Working in 2 batches, add dumplings to skillet. Cook until browned on each side, 2 to 3 minutes per side.

Chop chives. Place 6-10 little dumplings in a large bowl. Put 12 in. Put a solid 15 dumplings in your bowl. Ladle soup over top. Sprinkle generously with chives. Enjoy the best soup you’ve ever had.

[iamtaran]

Chapter 9 (!!!!!!) of A Tale is here! Get ready kids, it’s a long ‘un!

*

They fall together.

“No!” The scream rips out of Ciri before she can stop it. The pebbles around the lot jump and scatter.

Jaskier lands overtop the soldier with a punched-out sound. For a moment, Ciri fears to look and see a blade stuck from his back, or blood soaking through the blue of his jacket. Her hands cover her mouth over a scream. She can’t, not again. Not the red of blood on fine blue cloth, not again.

But the fight isn’t over, and there is no blood. The scout scrabbles at Jaskier’s eyes with his off hand. Frantic, she looks and finds the sword pinned with the scout’s hand under one of Jaskier’s knees. With a jerk Jaskier bats the hand away and grabs for something at his belt. His dagger flashes in his hand.

[iamtaran]

Chapter 8 of A Tale Told Before, Told Again is live! Thank you everyone for all the love (and for all the patience)! And in advance... I’m sorry. * Before, Jaskier had promised Ciri that he would protect her. With Dara tentatively joining them, that promise now extended to him as well. Jaskier would stand by it. He just hadn't realized how soon he would be pressed to prove it.

[iamtaran]

I was just thinking the other night of how perfect jaskier fits into ciri's and dara's lives as a sort of adult authority figure at this point: he can relate to ciri's noble background, but also the harsh reality that has been dara's. uhhh anyway so yeah i am still thinking about ATTBTA and i think you should know that

Yes exactly so!!! He’s in such an interesting position as a nobleman turned bard in that sense-- he has all the knowledge, raising, and deportment of a noble at his fingertips; but being a traveling minstrel, has also learned quite a lot of what life is like for the lower classes and for less ‘honorable’ professions and for his own part has a few fingers in a few disreputable pies. He is a good middle point to balance Dara and Ciri from.It also offers the possibility of some funny little moments where Ciri, who has certain ideas about troubadours, might be shocked to see him fall into the part of the nobleman when needed; or where Dara, who can only see a Purse when he looks at him in his silly silks and doublets, might be shocked to catch a glimpse of those skills he’s learned on the streets... ;) the fact that you’re still thinking about ATTBTA fills my heart right up to the top

[iamtaran]

I’m working on the next chapter of A Tale and hooooooooooooooh my god i just wrote the tenderest moment and it’s KILLING ME y’aaall. when i said this to my partner, whining pathetically and clutching my chest like a southern belle, their response was: “is this the [writer’s] equivalent of laughing at your own joking?” .......................yes.

[iamtaran]

what happens when you jam to billie eilish

she’s provided the sound track for writing / daydreaming ATTBTA and The Witcher in general and I’ve just started assigning songs to character. Like, Mousesack: when i was older Memories burn like a forest fire Heavy rain turns any funeral pyre to mud In the flood When I was older I was a sailor on an open sea But now I’m underwater And my skin is paler than it should ever be Obviously, Mousesack I connect heavily to the sea. The mournful sound of this song, how dark it is, first caught my attention for him, especially after having written the scenes of his fight against the compulsion spell. And then, singing about dreaming and on my back again, dreaming… where you and I are the best of friends. I couldn’t help but think of how we the audience are so responsive to Ciri having lost everyone in her life… but so, here, has Mousesack. He came to Cintra with Eist. Is it safe to assume they were friends? We’re shown it, him the confidant at Eist’s right hand at the ball. They’ve known each other decades at this point, as we saw (and wasn’t that a fun and poignant shock, to have been introduced to him older, silvering, and staid, just to flash back in a later episode and to see him grinning and merry and mischievous, younger.) And then his love and respect for Calanthe was so visible in that last scene with her, built for over a decade. They mellowed together, the two of them. I can’t imagine it was an easy relationship to build, but it ends all the same.  But what really did it for me was the above verses. Mousesack comes from the sea and will always return to it, even if only in his memories. When I was older / I was a sailor on an open sea makes sense to me in a hard to qualify way. Something about how war makes children of us all, how loss can make us feel so young in the most lost, most powerless way. How he might look back on his memories like looking forward- looking back-- made young by loss. When I was older / I was a sailor on an open sea.

[iamtaran]

Chapter 7: to be in the room, pt. 2 is live! Jaskier’s perspective, including: his thoughts on Dara; concerns for the future; a glimpse into our favourite bard’s past. And, most importantly... ... ... ... ... *

Jaskier’s quest found him once again enveloped in the utterly unbearable scent of roasting nuts, mouth awash with longing. He tried not to focus on the memory of the little morsels as they fell into the mud but, well…

[iamtaran]

Chapter 5 of A Tale Told Before, Told Again is up!

*

Cir broke the silence.

“Jaskier?” He made a listening noise around his bite of cheese. “Who is Geralt of Rivia?” The cheese choked him immediately.

[iamtaran]

For anyone waiting for an update to A Tale or that fun little one-shot I previewed-- sorry for the wait, y’all. I forgot to refill my prescription so my brain chemistry is, uh, wild. Can’t focus or write at all, really, and my energy and mood are tanked :( I am itching to feel back to normal soon and get back to writing tbh but it feels quite like the words-making part of my brain has just gone completely offline. That’s what the kids call frustrating

[iamtaran]

Writing Dara’s POV for an upcoming chapter of A Tale Told Before, Told Again is... ow.  The show didn’t do much with his background, which has left a lot of it up to me-- exciting, don’t get me wrong! But holy shit is this is heart-wrenching time given what The Witcher universe has seen done to elves. Lord. * When they found the refugee camp, Dara ran. Things were how they should be, he had thought. The human with the humans, and he alone. It just made sense to hang around the camp, nicking what he could and watching, listening for news. The Nilf soldiers had chased him off as well, after all, from the town where he had made himself a den and a few friends. They’d kill him as fast as a Cintran if they caught him.  Then the soldiers came again and he hesitated. He had learned his hard lesson years before, that a rat can’t look out for anyone but himself and expect to live. Sometimes the human urchins ganged up, and sometimes they would let a long ear in. But it never lasted. Everyone scatters in the end. He knows that. But something sent him back before he could better of it. He ran to where he saw her last, the human noble-girl. Heard her breaths panting out with fear over the familiar sound of someone taking a knife to someone’s life. He pulled her away with him without looking to see who.  They ran. 

[iamtaran]

me: ah, yes, how refreshing to be nearly done with editting Chapter 6! Why, I should be able to post tonight!

brain: but what if, consider this-- what you rewrote that final third of the chapter in a completely different character’s POV? Not only would it change the tone of the scene, really it would just enhance the dialogue and the reader’s understanding of that characters; an improvement all around!

me, already seven pages in to rewriting without realizing:

[iamtaran]

me, the single worst person at keeping secrets in the whole world, staring at all the comments predicting what happened with the cliffhanger: sweatin

[iamtaran]

How in the world did I get here. A Tale Told Before, Told Again started as just a somewhat heart-wrenching and tantalizing game of “what if” sprinkled with some wish fulfillment. (I really like Mousesack, okay?) I started writing it with perhaps four or five solidly planned chapters in mind. It was done in a flash-- I asked “what if” and suddenly all these possibilities seemed to write themselves, which, fantastic feeling. It has been so much fun and come so easily in a way that is really surprising considering how I’ve written less and less in recent years.  Besides the very clear chapters that seemed to present themselves up fully-formed, I had a few plot points that immediately established themselves in the shadowy and vague ‘to come later’ territory of after. I just sort of... put them in a hand-wavey timeline in a doc and thought, “I’ll deal with that later,” and got on writing. What? It wasn’t like this thing was gonna be some sprawling epic laced through with multiple story-lines and perspectives and exploration of character backgrounds and relationships and...  Well. Later is here and, um. This mad dash of off-the-cuff fic might end up quite entirely less mad dash and off-the-cuff. I am three hours in to fleshing out some world building and a working plot and numerous twists and turns and thinking hoooooly shit what am I actually doing, so. Uh.  Gulp.

[iamtaran]

hi yes thanks @calamity-bean for leaving me the most kindhearted comment on my fic. I already replied there but aaaaah I’ve got to say again, thank you so much! I’m so glad you enjoyed the 6th chapter and Dara’s perspective! It makes me excited to get on writing the next chapter and all the rest to come C:

[iamtaran]

what happens when you jam to billie eilish pt. 2

it can only be fitting, after the last chapter of A Tale Told Before, Told Again, that the next character to get a Billie Eilish song is Dara

This song immediately jumped out as having not only the right tone (billie and khalid killing me with those vocals) for writing Dara’s introspection about his past, but also so many gut-wrenching lyrics that just worked. Some of them are obvious and immediately drew attention when I was listening and brainstorming ATTBTA at the beginning. Isn’t it lovely, all alone? / Heart made of glass, my mind of stone. Dara has been alone for years, surviving by himself. He had so little trust for anyone but himself that when he first met Ciri, he wouldn’t speak. Not a word. Isn’t it lovely, all alone? reflects so much of his worldview as it has become, when safety can only be found alone, relying only on yourself and never on the presumption of kindness or good intentions in others. For all he’s a survivor, however, he combines a vulnerability and a capability, a competence in surviving even in the bleak winter atmosphere where we first meet him. Heart made of glass, my mind of stone. For all his practicality, he still came to care for Ciri so quickly and easily. He is vulnerable at heart. Like most kids, he’s very ready to love and be loved, even with all the hurt of his life creating boundaries. Even with himself creating boundaries. The audience is given these parts of Dara in the canon-- the distrustful orphan, the survivor, a child who saw his family killed and who felt he should have fought and gone with them-- but in writing him, there was a lot of background to fill in. I took a lot of inspiration of how Tamora Pierce wrote Briar Moss in her series Circle of Magic and The Circle Opens. Even with inspiration, however, Dara is completely his own character, with his own background and personality, and has been a joy to spend hours puzzling at.  Listen to the intro to Lovely. The simple, soft piano is wistful, don’t you think? Thought I found a way Thought I found a way, yeah (found) But you never go away (never go away) So I guess I gotta stay now Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here Even if it takes all night or a hundred years Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear I thought I found a way is all Dara’s voice, early on after taking Ciri under his wing. As he goes against his own instinct of being alone equaling safety and takes her on against his own instinct, it challenges what he thought he knew. Is it that he is waiting for Ciri to leave, like everyone else in his life? Not just his family, but every other street kid he ever ran with, who scatter when there’s a threat? But you never go away / so I guess I gotta stay now. Or is it something else? When Ciri thinks about her time with Dara, her time running from the war after the fall of the capitol and the castle (no comfort, no guidance, no safety, only constant awakeness in fear) she likens it to being alone in a red room. There is no future or past, only the present; only the red room. Her grandmother’s voice follows her through it and pushes her forward when she might otherwise soften and stay. Similarly, does the memory of Dara’s family follow him through his own red room? What memories dog him? Has he lived there all these years, awake and wary?  If so, it feeds into that second verse. If bleak survival on the streets is a place, if it’s a lonely, terrible place that he wants to leave-- there’s a sense of claustrophobia to his worldview, how small and trapped it is, how simple the rules. Oh I hope some day I’ll make it out of here / Even if it takes all night or a hundred years is especially dark when applied to Dara, or at least it is to me. As an elf, which from what I’ve researched can live 250, 300 years in the Witcher canon, it’s not just a romanticism to suggest a hundred years. Is that a reality Dara has to face? That this might be life, inescapable, an entire century of base survival? Hiding? Living just on the cusp of constant fear, having to fight that fear because to give in to it and stop moving is to die as countless orphans do. This song especially felt apt for Dara because it is a duet. At times, it feels like a duet between him and Ciri, running through war-torn Cintra and the Brugge/Verden countryside together. No longer alone in the red room, but alone together; still trapped. Not quite as narratively straight forward, the final nail in the coffin on making this Dara’s song, one line: Hello, welcome home. In it’s verse, Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone Tear me to pieces, skin to bone Hello, welcome home  Dara’s family has been gone for years. He has been alone for years. The worst nightmares, however, aren’t the ones reliving what happened to them. The worst, the ones that cut the deepest, skin to bone, are the ones where he dreams of coming home to his family. Dreams where they are still alive, and he is safe and loved. Hello, welcome home. Even after years, he believes it each time-- --until he wakes up.

[iamtaran]

uh oh

Sure would be a bad terrible no-good idea to come up with another fic idea and spend 4 hours in a rush plotting it out after waking inspired and somewhat manic from a dead sleep. Aha. Ahahaha. My ATTBTA word doc is making aggressive eye contact with me and all the MWPs have grabbed improvised weapons, i’m