Unusually, this message is brought to you, not by one of the elders usually responsible for the messages, but by one of the temple's cooks. On one side of a sturdy, but stained piece of paper, writ in a careless hand is this message:

Dear Pilgrims,

I thought you might like a copy of my recipe for Chicken Stew with Tomatoes, so I've written it out for you.

Step 1
Chop the following:

• 1 Medium onion
  
• 1 Stalk of celery
  
• 1 Handful of baby carrots
  
• 2 Cloves of garlic

Moderately fine, then stir-fried them at medium to medium-high in a 50/50 mix of olive oil and tea oil until the onion is shiny and soft. Dump into a large pot.

Step 2
Before starting the cooking stage of step 1, cut up about 2 to 2.5 pounds of skinless chicken thighs (about 8) into quarters, and place them in a glass bowl with several dashes of Pick-a-Pepper sauce and enough Marsala wine to cover.

Once finished with step 1, add a bit more oil to frying pan (if it seems necessary), and transfer the chicken pieces using tongs. Sauté the chicken pieces at medium-high heat until browned on the outside and most of the liquid is gone. Then add:

• A vigorous shaking of paprika
  
• 1 Teaspoon of white sugar (The Baron's chief guard, Gunther Grundheim loves this part!)
  
• Several dashes of Pick-a-Pepper sauce

And stir-fry the chicken pieces for a minute or so longer, then dump them in large pot with the vegetables.

Step 3
Add the following ingredients to the big pot:

• Two cups of crushed tomatoes
  
• Chicken broth
  
• Apple Juice (The common folk practically live on apples here!)
  
• Healthy shaking of dried basil
  
• About 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon of poultry seasoning
  
• Several dashes of Worcestershire Sauce
  
• 1/2 Cup of Marsala wine (Our Baron's favorite!)
  
• 3/4 Pound of mushrooms, sliced reasonably thin

Add about equal amounts of juice and broth, and enough of both to make it look sort of like thin tomato soup in texture. Keep both around when cooking in case additional liquid is required.

Step 4
Cook at medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the chicken begins to fall apart. Serve over steamed white rice.


On the back side of the piece of paper is the following message:

Dear Pilgrims,

I dearly hope that you see this message. It is written in a special ink of my father's invention that should only become visible when exposed to the fumes of cooking garlic, onion, tomato and wine.

Pilgrims, you are my only hope! I am Sophia Standard, and I am being forced to wed the wicked Baron Bartholomew Boarman, who I do not love in the slightest. But if I do not wed him, he will denounce my father, Stanley Standard, to the secret police for the crime of practicing philosophy without a license. Worse still, the Baron also threatens to have my poor little sister Stephanie sent to be educated in the black arts of dentistry and podiatry (thus utterly ruining her life) if I do not assent to the wedding.

Fortunately, the staff here at Cobalt Castle knows the Baron for a wicked man, and have been aiding me on the sly (of course, I could not expect them to directly oppose the ruler of the entire world of Alliteratia), but there is only so long I can put him off. So I am giving this note (and the concealing recipe on the other side) to the Cook, Mistress Margaret Mead, to be given to the Chaplin, Father Francoise Felton, who will see that it reaches you. Please come soon!

Sincerely,

Sophia Standard

OK, first, it's a perfectly workable recipe -- makes a perfectly reasonable dish. And it's my own recipe, so there are no copyright issues with it. I put it in there primarily because it amused to think of a recipe hidden among the collection of letters to the temple. After all, if you look through collections of people's letters long enough, usually sooner or later you'll hit a recipe or three. I probably could have used a shorter recipe, but it was one I had one hand.

I have added a little bit of indirect social commentary to the the recipe. Possibly it could use more.

I have also made the real message hidden in such a way that actually making the recipe would reveal it. (Of course, it also raises the question of whether the inhabitants of the temple eat meat, which might be an issue.)

D'oh! Why didn't I spot those parenthetical notes in the recipe this morning? That's cool stuff.

Maybe because I added them in response to your first comments?

Mmmmmm... I just *had* dinner and this is still making me hungry! :-p