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[zencha]

Day 20 - Slow and easy

queen of cups // sensitivity, empathy, support

We got an adorable little visitor to the cafe today - a garden snail, inching along the windowsill. Perhaps not quite an ordinary garden snail, considering his shell was a whorl of iridescent colour rather than the brown I'm used to seeing, and his body was golden - perhaps the primroses in the garden also attract wildlife from the fey realms?

Either way, seeing the sunlight play off the sheen of his snail shell made me feel inspired. There's a particular type of pastry known as escargots for the way their spiral design resembles a snail shell, and seeing our snail visitor today felt like the perfect sign to try and make a batch. Making them also means I'll get up to use up more sourdough starter, which is also a plus.

Escargots are usually made with raisins, but for this version a few dried persimmons reconstituted in water and given a good soaking in primrose wine seemed to do the trick. For a finishing touch, a light glaze infused with a few drops of morning dew - at the right angle, it catches the sun's rays and produces an iridescent reflection, just like our snail-friend himself.

It looks like a pretty good bite, if I'm honest - great for eating alongside a cup of tea when I want to slow things down and take it easy for a bit.

[zencha]

Day 19 - A good night's rest

four of swords // recuperation, contemplation, self-protection

After a long hectic day in the cafe today, I decided to take a walk. It's been way too long since I've ventured far outside the cafe without the express intent of searching for herbs to gather, and The Viscount Baxter rode along on my shoulder, eager for some fresh air. I brought along some chamomile tea in one of my trusty enchanted kettles, and a woolen quilt - it's still winter, after all, and even despite my jacket on I could feel a little chill.

We walked aimlessly for an hour or two, using only the light of the moon and the sway of the flowers in the wind to guide our away. Eventually, the trees of the forest parted before us, revealing a stretch of untouched, soft grass, and a cliff-edge beyond.

With a sigh, I sank down into the grass, lying back down and feeling the exhaustion of the day slip away. Face-up on the cold grass, warm under my quilt, I could see the clear night sky above me, twinkling serenely. I can't tell you how long I lay there for, just breathing in and out in time with the stars and revelling in the feeling of doing absolutely nothing. But between one blink and the next, I must have fallen asleep, for next thing I knew I was opening my eyes to the pastel grey-purple of early dawn, feeling oddly more well-rested than if I had slept in my own bed above the cafe.

"Goodness," I said aloud, turning to The Viscount Baxter only to realise he was still sound asleep, tail over nose.

As I busied myself putting away my quilt, my hand brushed against the grass near where I had slept, coming away wet - cold morning dew, clear and sparkling on my fingertip. Unbidden, I remembered that dew collected by dawn-light has healing and purifying properties - I'm not physically injured, but a night sleeping among this dewy grass did make me feel like something inside me had healed, a little. It might be interesting to infuse a drop or two into some items on the menu. I gave thanks to the grassy field before me, and proceeded to collect - with magic - enough dew to fill the spare vials I always have on me.

[zencha]

Day 18 - Crack'er dawn

ten of cups // harmony, blessings, teamwork

The day I'd feared has arrived - The Duchess is getting way too big for her jar, even though I'm baking bread every day. It's almost like the time-manipulation magic I'd used when initially bringing her to her first ferment has lingered so long that it's permanently sped up her fermentation cycle, or something.

Desperate with the urge to find a way to use up more starter in a single recipe, a wild thought occurred to me - what if I just baked the starter with nothing else added? It's essentially flour, water, and leavening, after all; it should bake up into something.

The result... dry cracker-like bakes with a weirdly cheesy flavour. A surprisingly good cheesy flavour.

Intrigued, I added some butter to another batch of starter to keep it more moist, and sent it back to the oven. That seems to have done the trick - this time I got light, crisp crackers, still with that weird cheesy flavour that got more addictive the more I chewed.

I made a couple more batches of the crackers, sprinkling chamomile into the mix for a little pop of sweetness and morning sunlight. The Duchess' mass has gone down to a manageable level, too - turns out this recipe is pretty handy to have in my back pocket, after all. I'll have to add these crackers to the menu!

[zencha]

Day 17 - Official cafe teabags now on sale!

seven of wands // perseverance, competition, resistance

I've been cheating and applying time-quickening magic at small intervals to hasten the process of drying out the chamomile blossoms. I've been testing the batch as I go, and unlike the time with Duchess, there isn't any lingering magical essence in the petals - so no timey-wimey shenanigans will be in the future for these chamomile blooms. Seems like applying magic in short bursts over a prolonged period of time works better for not accidentally permanently enchanting something! You learn something new every day, even after you've been learning magic for so long.

Given my success with speed-drying, I've managed to spend today playing around with different blends of chamomile and life-everlasting. The Viscount Baxter has gamely stepped in to test the brews, and I'm pleased to report that the final mix we landed on had him sleeping soundly in a sunbeam from the window for the entire afternoon.

Long story short, ask about our new Naptime Blend at the front counter!

[zencha]

Day 16 - Business deals

two of cups // partnership, compatibility, equality

Lilah, the travelling satyr merchant who'd sold me persimmons before the Winter Solstice, stopped by again today.

"Magnificent purveyor of bakes," she said, leaning over the counter and grinning, "have you the chance to make something out of my persimmons just yet?"

The truth was that I hadn't - fruit as juicy as a persimmon takes some time to dry out, and even with liberal application of time-magic I can't speed up the process that much, for fear of losing the depth of flavour that only good old aging brings. But Lilah didn't seem fully satisfied with that answer.

"Can you make something new now? I'd like to taste what my persimmons can become in your capable hands."

I'm not too sure exactly why I agreed - it was still in the middle of operating hours, but she had very kindly let me have the persimmons, and there was just something about the cheeky twinkle in her eye that spoke to me.

The persimmons hung to dry were still fairly moist, but after a moment's contemplation, I decided that I could take some of the larger, less dry ones and cook them into a jam. Persimmon jam sounds about as good of an idea as dried persimmons, and for good measure I also threw in some of the chamomile blossoms I'd gathered yesterday to infuse. Lilah was amused when I pulled The Duchess out from a back shelf where she'd been foaming happily, and gamely agreed to help me knead the dough since coming up with a new recipe impromptu was her idea.

Going off the memory of a bread I'd had in a desert-city (though that one had been filled with cinnamon, not freshly-made jam), I layered the dough and jam together, braiding the resulting log until it fit snugly into my pan.

The resulting loaf I brushed down with some of the persimmon syrup I'd set to making - still fairly on the light end, but I'm sure it will come into its full flavour given a few more weeks. Lilah consumed two slices fresh out of the oven, and seemed enchanted the moment she swallowed her first bite.

"You have exceeded my expectations," she told me. "To know you can make such magic with just your hands and an oven.... I've decided! I shall bring you more ingredients for you to turn into delectable treats in this cafe."

I laughed, reaching out a hand still mildly sticky with persimmon syrup for her to shake. "That sounds like a deal I'd be happy to make."

[zencha]

Day 15 - Saving daylight

the emperor // practicality, authority, paternity

The close of the day was fairly slow today - a blessing in disguise, because I got to sit down and have a think about the future direction of the cafe. I'd previously committed to opening in the evening hours for those forest-folk who prefer to tread these paths after dusk, but the longer opening hours have been affecting my ability to do recipe R&D, gather ingredients, and generally recover from the hustle and bustle of each day.

Having our new brownie friend helps quite a bit, but I've decided that the opening hours might still need some change in order to make running the cafe a little more sustainable in the long term. From next week, I'll no longer be open in the mornings - the cafe will open from around the lunch hour or so, and will remain open till moonrise on the weekdays, and till midnight on the weekends.

In lighter news, I did manage to go ingredient gathering as well, this evening, and managed to find a fairly healthy growth of chamomile!

I've collected a fair number of the flowers to be dried for tea. I've also heard that a strong infusion of the dried flowers, when combined with sugar, can be fermented into a beer - given my experiments with the primrose wine (which is currently still in fermentation, but looking good so far!), trying another fermentation experiment seems pretty exciting.

I'll be making myself an infusion with some fresh flowers tonight - here's hoping it'll give me a good night's sleep.

[zencha]

Day 14 - Enterprise

seven of wands // perseverance, competition, resistance

Woke up this morning and the tables were sparkling, and more importantly, the dish with the milk and honey had been drained and washed clean. I'm 80% sure now - we've got a house brownie who's decided to take a liking to the cafe.

I'll take it - brownies enjoy the work, and I enjoy not having to do it; a win-win if I've ever seen one. And honestly, being freed from the tiring slog of cleaning up at the end of the day feels like such a relief, and lets me turn my attention to other things, like cafe improvements.

A few customers have been asking if we sell our teas to go. I hadn't thought about it before, but this afternoon, sifting through my collection of dried life-everlasting flowers, it occured to me that mixing some with some chamomile might make for a good sleepy-tea. I'll need to search for some chamomile first, though - a project for future evenings now that our brownie friend has taken over cafe cleanup.

I wonder if other teas might be popular as well - I shall ask the next customer asking about teas to go, what kind of teas they might be looking for!

[zencha]

Day 13 - An unseen friend

nine of wands // resilience, protective, courage

I've been caught up in this and that ever since I got back from the Winter Solstice, and it only occurred to me as I was closing up shop today that it's been a while since I cleaned the store. Or, rather, it hadn't occurred to me until then that I hadn't cleaned the store a single time since returning, because the windows and tables haven't had a single speck of dust on them.

Taking a moment, I realised that three nights ago, after the trying encounter with Kyprinyx in my store, I'd left the plates and cutlery from evening service in the sink, too tired to deal with them and resolving to wash them in the morning. Except... except, they hadn't been in the sink, but rather wiped clean and placed back into the cupboard, the next morning - and I'd assumed my tired mind had remembered events wrongly.

"What do you think?" I asked The Viscount Baxter. He doesn't really speak the human tongue, but he chittered a little at my question and turned his head to look out at where the primroses now grew, fragrant and sweet, an invitation for fey to visit.

"Me too," I told him, with a smile. "We might just have a new staff member."

Brownies, after all, only work when nobody is around to see them - I had no visual confirmation of my theory, but something was helping me to do chores I had not been diligent in doing, and if that coincided with when I had received the gift of primroses... well.

"I'll put out some milk and honey tonight," I resolved quietly to The Viscount Baxter. According to all the fey lore I knew, brownies wouldn't accept any kind of payment, but greatly enjoyed milk and honey, so perhaps that would suffice. "And if it's gone in the morning, then well, I guess we'll know for sure."

[zencha]

Day 12 - Balancing acts

two of pentacles // hustling, flexibility, balance

A hell-born lady stumbled into the cafe today, dressed in dress robes that probably were crisp at some point in the morning but were by that time in the early evening a little disheveled. Ink stains on her fingers and a pair of battered spectacles hanging from a chain around her neck, she looked like the perfect picture of exhaustion.

"I heard about this cafe from my daughter," she said, the tiredness more than evident in her voice. "She says the cakes you sell are magic. I don't know the slightest thing about magic - but is that true?"

I pushed a glass of warm tea towards her and she took it gratefully, taking a long draft of it before nearly collapsing onto one of the stools by the bar counter.

"Long day?"

A sigh. "I've been pulling double-shifts down at town hall to earn some money for my family to last the winter. I barely see my daughter before she goes to bed by the time I'm home each night, and my husband does his best to help with the chores but there's still some to be done when I get back. I'm absolutely tired out, and winter isn't even half over yet."

"Your husband doesn't work?"

"He lives off the land," the woman said with another tired sigh. "When the earth sleeps under the snow, so does he - not much for him to do now until the snow melts enough to sow seeds again."

"Excuse me for saying so, ma'am, but that sounds like an awful lot to be juggling."

"It is." The woman took another long sip of the tea. "I happened to pass by your cafe on the way home, and came in on a whim, hoping... well. I guess a part of me wondered if your cakes might be magical enough to cure chronic exhaustion, but I guess that might not be possible, huh?"

"Hm," I said. Getting rid of chronic exhaustion might have been somewhat beyond my menu's repertoire, but: "If it's something to give you a restful night's sleep, I might have just the thing."

I saw the woman off with a take-away box of Goodnight Bites, freshly made earlier that afternoon. I added an extra dusting of life-everlasting petals on the top - they help with insomnia, after all, and I hoped that might be enough to give this woman the energy she needed to tough out the days to come.

[zencha]

Day 11 - A hard-earned treat

four of pentacles // frugality, affluence, possessiveness

After a harrowing couple of days fretting over fey dealings, it's almost surreal to complete a full day in the store with only regular mundane customer requests. I spent most of the day jumping every time the shop door opened, but thankfully the clientele's largely been the post-Winter Solstice crowd popping by to check out the new bakes.

A young human man visited the store today, carrying a hell-born little girl who looked to have been no more than six on his shoulders. They both wore matching weathered-looking coats, though the girl's coat had a hood that just barely covered the two nub-like horns poking out amidst her tufts of hair.

"I've been curious about this cafe in the woods I've been hearing about," said the young man. "My daughter here's been asking almost daily if we can go buy the sweets from the magic cafe, but we've been busy stocking away wood and twisting enough hay to feed our fireplace for the rest of winter. We've just finished, though, and my girl here even successfully split her first log!"

"Congratulations," I told the young girl, and she shyly waved back, before hiding her face into her father's hair. "That deserves a treat, I would think."

"Indeed," the young man said. "I don't really eat sweets often, anything you might recommend? Something light and easy to eat, so we don't ruin this one's appetite before dinner."

Most of the current store menu is fairly heavy, but we do have the Witch-Hazel Tea Jelly. Of course, I had initially envisioned for it to be served cold, but that didn't seem to be particularly suitable given the current cold weather. Instead, I suggested that I serve the jelly inside a warm drink of earl grey milk-tea - a suggestion both father and daughter immediately agreed to.

Perhaps I should add a hot option to the jelly on the menu for the colder season, if more people might be interested - now that's a thought!

[zencha]

Day 10 - Old flames

the moon // obfuscation, anxiety, ignorance

I did some research after I closed up shop last night, looking into the arcanical significance of primroses and trying to figure out if there was any particular reason why Oleander had decided that growing a bunch of them by the cafe's front door could constitute equivalent payment for pastries. Luckily, I didn't find anything too ominous - primroses serve as an invitation and an entrance from the fey realm to our one, and the strong presence of them does beckon the visitation of fey folk from time to time. Mostly fey affiliated with the Summer Court, though - most of them are good aligned, so I figured that I might not need to worry too much about getting terrifying visits from evil fey for a while.

I didn't fully realise the ramifications of having what is essentially a fey beacon outside my cafe, until this evening.

The bell above the shop door tinkled sometime earlier this evening, and without missing a beat, I looked up to welcome my newest customer - only to meet tawny green-gold eyes set in a freckled face I'd not seen for more than ten, fifteen years.

"Iris."

Tall stature, stag's antlers upon his head and a mantle of gossamer spider-silk draped over his shoulders - a member of the Summer Court stood in my humble cafe, and as I studied him, I began to recall with dread the new primroses grown outside my cafe that supposedly served as an invitational signal to the fey.

This fey, in particular, I'd not expected to see again - not after he'd decided that he'd grown bored of fooling around with mortals and dumped me unceremoniously out of the fey realm, several years out of time and without any context as to my bearings. The thing about good-aligned fey - nothing about their proclivity to be morally good necessitates that they be kind, or understanding, in the course of their immortal life. And Kyprinyx - he was the prime example of that.

I took a deep breath and pulled myself upright, pasted my best customer service smile on my face and did my best to pretend that it didn't hurt at least a little to see him again. No matter how much magic I've studied in the years past, none of it would be enough to evict an unwelcome archfey from my store, especially if I wanted to keep the space intact. So I had no choice but to play nice.

"Welcome to zen-cha, where we serve tea-infused bakes to all who desire them. What can I get you?"

A laugh, and a smirk. "Imagine my surprise, little flower, when I hear that the human curiosity that had opened up on the edge of this wood happened to be run by you. You've certainly withered some since the last time I saw you."

I took a deep steadying breath, and tried my best to hide my clenched fists under the counter.

"Do let me know if you'd like any recommendations for cakes, sir. I'd be happy to help."

The smirk on his face thinned a little, and for a brief moment I thought I saw something almost like.... understanding? flash through his eyes.

"I'll be travelling over to the Winter Court soon," he said. "What do you have that might travel well?"

A simple request - I could do that. Taking another deep breath, I recommended him our Witch-Hazel Sourdough - I've fine-tuned the recipe since the first time I made it, and it does make a fairly respectable journey-bread.

Thankfully - thankfully - he took the bread, and even had the decency to pay me in mundane currency for it. "A curious little palace you've made for yourself, little flower," he said. "Perhaps I may visit it again."

Please don't, I said in my head, but could do nothing more than smile through gritted teeth as he finally, finally, turned to leave the store.

I heaved a huge sigh of relief, and went to flip the sign on the door to 'Closed'. It was still fairly in the evening, but I needed to emotionally recover from seeing him again, in my current safe space.

After I finish writing this entry in the shop log, I'm going to make a big, bracing pot of sencha, and take it easy tonight.

(I sure hope he doesn't come back, at least for a good long while.)

[zencha]

Day 9 - A visit from the Fair Folk

king of swords // structure, clarity, integrity

Today was...an interesting day, to say the least.

The icy paths from yesterday have cleared up somewhat, though there's still a crisp chill to the air, hinting at the harsh cold of midwinter soon to come. A few more customers wandered into the store today, but none quite as memorable as the one who came in right as dusk fell and my firefly-lights began to come on.

A shadow fell across my door, and the new customer, a tall being with long, pointed ears and cat-like eyes, entered the store, having to stoop down in order to even fit through the doorway. It's been a while since I'd had dealings with any of the fey, but the sheer presence I could feel emanating from this being left me no doubt that a powerful fey was in my shop, inspecting my cakes; there was a friendly demeanour to them, but if there's one thing I know about the fair folk, it's that it's dangerous to take them at face value.

By and by, they turned to me, and said, "I am acquainted with Lilah, you know. She spoke highly of your quaint little tea-shop."

"She, uh, gave me some persimmons as thanks for the cake," I said faintly, looking up into the face of this being.

"Barter trade," said the being with a wide Cheshire grin, "such a preferable alternative to mundane commerce. I shall take some of your cakes to try, in exchange for a gift of mine, if you shall allow it. Lilah does sing the praises of your cakes, after all, and her taste has some refinement to it."

It took every muscle in me not to flinch instinctively at the mention of a gift from the fey - fey gifts, after all, are very different from striking a deal with the fey. When you strike a deal with the fey, it's often for something they aren't willing to give up easily, and it is said that they'll often find loopholes to worm their way out of giving it to you. But a gift, freely given, is a different story - a fey who wants to give a gift with no strings attached is a rare fey indeed. And here one was, offering to give me one in exchange for..... well, a piece of cake.

Dimly, it also occurred to me that my persimmon supplier apparently had more sway in the fey community than I was aware of.

"Go ahead," I told the being, "let me know what you'd like."

The being - who eventually introduced themselves as Oleander - ordered one of everything, and spent an hour crouched in a corner by the window, gleefully feasting upon the cakes and drinking what must have been a litre of tea. Finally, as they were just about done and preparing to leave, they came up to the counter.

"The cakes were glorious," they said. "And here, as my payment. Come walk with me outside for just a moment."

They led me outside the cafe, whereupon they bent down and placed a hand to the grass by the side of the door. A heartbeat, then two, and then the ground beneath their hand burst into bloom - white and pink primrose flowers forming sweet and full despite the winter chill.

"A gift," Oleander said, "and an invitation."

With a jaunty wave, they were off, down the forest path and disappearing among the frozen trees.

[zencha]

Day 8 - Sleepy bites

knight of cups // care, romance, artistry

Being on the road for the first time since my unofficial retirement kind of threw my sleep cycle out of whack, and I haven't managed to sleep restfully through the night ever since I got back to the cafe. Woke up this morning to The Viscount Baxter's displeased chattering informing me that I'd missed his breakfast time again, and I've been fairly groggy the rest of the day.

Luckily, it's a slow day today - there was a cold snap early in the morning, and with the walking-path up to the cafe iced over for the day, most of our customers have been the type who travel here by wing.

A slow day's good for me, though - it gives me a chance to do some recipe R&D with the new ingredients I've been gathering recently. The influx of small flying customers inspired me to bake something of a more appropriate size for them - a pixie would have difficulty holding an entire slice of tart, after all, and a daintier, tinier dessert might be more to their liking. I've always wanted to try baking tiny delicate desserts, and today seemed as good a day as any to brek out my very tiniest piping tips.

I baked up some vanilla sponge in a sheet tray and punched out little circles with my smallest cookie cutter to make layers for the tiniest layer-cake I've ever tried my hand at making. A little dollop of persimmon compote in the centre of each one, and a tiny piping of earl grey-infused buttercream to join the layers together - impulsively, I crushed up some of the yellow petals of the life-everlasting I'd been drying and sprinkled them on top. In such a small quantity, they won't be extremely potent, but they'd likely still be good enough to soothe one's spirit on the way to a restful nap.

Definitely sounds like a treat I might need. Perhaps I'll sneak one or two before I put the tray out in the display area...

[zencha]

Day 7 - Life springs anew

the lovers // unity, relationships, duality

I'm back from my 'business trip'! It was a pretty fruitful Winter Solstice break - I got to network with a bunch of organic tea farmers in the region, and they're all pretty interested in what I'm doing. Tea culture is pretty quiet these days, they told me, and it's nice to see the younger generation taking an interest and putting tea in a new spotlight the way I've started doing with the cafe. I've got some of them to agree to send on small batches of their teas now and then for use in the shop, so look forward to an expansion of the teas on offer in the coming months!

It was also lovely to visit my parents' farm again. Walking through the tea-terraces in the early morning, breathing in the mist and the green, it felt almost like I was a teenager again, helping my parents gather the fresh young tea-leaves for drying.

This time, on my walk, I discovered some curious flowers growing in the rocky cliff-face right behind my parents' home. Small yellow centres with papery, translucent white petals surrounding them - I recognised these from back when my mother used to let me help her with her herbal remedies, though I've not seen them in recent years. My parents call these flowers 'pearlies', but the name I know them by is 'life-everlasting' - flowers that, when infused into tea, can grant restful sleep, respite from illness, and - some say - an extended lifespan. My mother used to make me drink an infusion of them every night, and the taste lingers in my memory - a subtle sweetness, somewhat like chrysanthemum and yet fairly unlike it.

I picked a few bunches from the rocks - they grow pretty easily in abandoned, rocky places, and I'm sure the wilderness here won't miss them. I've started to dry these upon my return to the cafe, and I'd also taken a couple of fresh cuttings with me to try and propagate them - perhaps they may take a liking to the trellis I've got behind the cafe. Hopefully I'll get to experiment with them in the coming days as well!

[zencha]

Day 6 - Autumn fruit

death // endings, change, transition

I briefly mentioned it yesterday, but the cafe will be going on Winter Solstice break starting from tomorrow. I know, I know, it's been just about a week since I opened shop for the first time, but I'd booked consultations with a number of tea farms around my family farm, for research and development for the sake of the cafe, and they'd only managed to slot me in around the Winter Solstice period, so I decided I'd combine this business trip together with a quick visit home. I've not been home for a few years, and I certainly haven't told my parents about opening this cafe, so I've got plenty of news to bring home, for sure.

In the meantime, a travelling satyr merchant stopped by today with some seasonal produce. She told me her name was Lilah - she'd heard about the cafe from a couple of her pixie friends, and decided to stop by to check out the place. It seems that she gathers produce from all over and travels around to sell it for a living, and she ended up bartering a few croissants for a bushel of the last of the autumn persimmons. I was pretty excited by this offer - I haven't been able to go foraging properly ever since we opened for business, and it's been a bit of a struggle trying to stretch a menu with only witch-hazel and a couple of teas. The addition of persimmons promises some variety for our newer menu items, which is a pretty exciting development.

I never used to eat persimmons much as a child - our neighbours ran an apple farm so we always had plenty of apples, but persimmons were something far more exotic. The first time I had one, I was already considerably well-travelled. We'd been heading from one city to another, and along the way had stopped to help an old lady who'd been dealing with an infestation of giant rats in her farm. As thanks, she shared with us some persimmons from her crop. When I bit into a slice of that persimmon for the first time, I instantly felt like I was basking in the sunshine of a warm autumn afternoon - juicy, honey-sweet, the juice resting on my tongue.

Of course, a whole bushel of fresh persimmons would go bad instantly. But I've decided that since I'm going to be away for a while over the Winter Solstice, I might as well try preserving them for use in future food items for the cafe. Dried persimmons, of course, are a given - I strung up and hung a good half of the persimmons from the ceiling rafters once we'd closed for the day, and The Viscount Baxter helped me knot the strings tight. I've set up a ward to protect them from mold - hopefully in a month or so we might have some nice dried persimmons to experiment with.

The other half of the persimmons I've layered with some rock sugar in a large jar, and left on the bottom shelf of the pantry - I've heard of people making syrup with plums this way, and if plums can do it, why not persimmons? I can already imagine all the things we could possibly do with persimmon syrup.

Any new recipes, though, will have to wait until Winter Solstice! I'll come back hopefully filled with new ideas and ready to experiment. Until then, see you!

[zencha]

Day 5 - Extended opening hours (soon)

two of wands // discovery, accomplishment, planning

For the first few days of business over here at zen-cha, I've received queries about whether we'll consider staying open sundown. I hadn't been a fan of the idea initially - nighttime, to me, brings to mind taverns and bars, and I neither serve alcohol nor want to handle tipsy customers in my cafe, since the furniture isn't exactly very replaceable on short notice and I'm running the place on my own.

The idea of staying open longer to sell more pastries is fairly tempting, though, and it's not like I have anywhere I need to be after I close the cafe - I'll just be in my room in the hut next to the cafe, coming up with new recipe ideas or just drinking tea.

A customer came in today looking for tea and sweets, and as he ate he told me about his time in the vibrant cafe-streets of the Daybreak Kingdom to the east. The Daybreak Kingdom is famous for its cafe culture, and I won't lie if I said that the very idea of zen-cha itself was at least partially inspired by the many varied cafes I saw on the one time I had visited the kingdom for business. This customer told me he was quite the cafe-hopper, and that in the Daybreak Kingdom, there are some dessert cafes that open until late in the night to cater to those looking for a sweet treat after dinner, or those looking to sober up with a quick sugar rush.

Of course, nobody's going to be wandering half-drunk through my forest in the middle of the night. But this is, after all, not entirely a mundane forest that I've chosen to set up shop in, and it occurred to me that maybe the children of the night, and the other creatures who rule the forest when the moon is high, might also want a sweet treat to get them through the night.

After sundown today, after closing up shop for the day, I took a stroll out through the forest. With my makeshift dowsing-rod that I'd fashioned from the branches of the witch-hazel plant, I was pleased to find a quiet river flowing through the forest somewhere west of the cafe - and flitting around the banks of the river, a great number of fireflies. Watching them loop around each other, like ever so many twinkling stars hovering just at eye level, an idea came to me - if I opened my cafe at night, I could light up the interior of the cafe with fireflies. Their flickering lights would surely make interesting shadows with the plants growing all over the cafe, and they would provide sufficient light without destroying the relaxing mood of the shop.

Not real fireflies, of course. I wouldn't be that cruel - they'd die alone and mate-less if I were to keep them in captivity for more than a day. But conjuring animal constructs is child's play, something we used to do for fun in between classes at the Academy, and I imagine conjuring fifty or so firefly-sprites each night wouldn't make me break too much of a sweat.

So on the banks of the river, I decided - after the Winter Solstice break, I'll start opening my cafe into the evenings for half the week, for customers to come enjoy my tea and desserts by firefly-light. Who knows, perhaps I might meet some interesting new customers, and even come up with some new menu items exclusively for the evening service!

[zencha]

Day 4 - Journeyman bread

nine of cups // triumph, self-confidence, cheerfulness

The sourdough experiments with the new starter continue today.

I've named the new starter The Duchess. The Viscount Baxter doesn't seem to be very fond of her, and perhaps it might be repeating my mistakes with Toby to give this starter a name if there's a chance I might need to get rid of some (or, goodness forbid, all) of her at some point in the future. Progress for the moment seems to be manageable, though - I've been using her to make a tray or two of croissants per day and everything seems to be fine so far. Granted, it's been only one day so far, but well, everything went well yesterday so that should be a good sign, right?

Anyway, back to the new experiment - it occurred to me that I could attempt something similar to kombucha if I infused some of The Duchess with my witch-hazel tea instead of just plain water. I've never tried that before, but I have had a really good Assam tea-infused sourdough once in a lovely bakery down in the Southern Archipelago, so I toyed with the idea of making a witch-hazel infused version as my homage to that. Witch-hazel tea doesn't have the strongest of flavours, but its smell does pack a punch - I've been told it smells somewhat like tequila, without the sting of the alchol - and the tea itself is fairly high in tannins. A bread infused with a moderate to relatively high amount of this tea could, perhaps, even give one the same jolt of alertness as a cup of black coffee.

The Duchess seemed pretty happy to feed on witch-hazel tea instead of plain water, and with a little bit of magic expended, I quickly ended with a neat test loaf. The Viscount Baxter came down from his perch to see what I was doing, and when I explained the whole bread situation to him, he studied the loaf for a moment before dragging his claw down the top of the rested loaf, slashing it into a vague approximation of a leafy pattern.

...Well, I was going to slash at it vaguely with a paring knife, but that works just as well.

The loaf made it through the test bake okay, and I taste-tested a hefty slice with some butter and honey. Once you get past the tequila smell (not overpowering, but definitely fairly strong) it's actually a pretty mild-tasting loaf, with the natural sourness from the starter and a light, lemony taste on top from the witch-hazel.

It's now been about three hours since I ate that test slice, and I can still feel myself being unusually awake and active. It has occurred to me that this might actually be a pretty good bread for a journeyman's lunch - one sandwich with this bread, and I'd probably be able to walk a full day's journey on the road before the fatigue kicks in. Hm, now that's a marketing idea...

I'm off to add the bread to the menu for tomorrow! I hope the crash when the bread's effects wear off won't be too strong...