Lamb, Shoulder Cut (about 2.3 lbs)

Lamb is the tastiest meat. There once were those who said that it’s too gamey, but they’ve all been shot. Cook it right and you will unlock pleasures unknown.

But it’s the worst meat for the environment. It uses more water than beef, per calorie. Our ancestors ate lamb, which some people call mutton, as well as goat meat, which is just bonier lamb. This subservience to traditionalism is going to kill us all.

Granulated Sugar (sufficient to cover the bottom of the pot)

It began brown and unrefined, and through magic we made it white. Now in the cauldron it becomes brown again. We wish we could be as mutable.

Red Pepper (4 tsp)

The people live their lives, normal lives, with no idea of what you are every day discovering within. Of the machinations, inventions, and deep pits of the interior. Wear that deep pit as your face and see where it gets you. Their faces are all canaries and wallpaper. Cast them all out. They’ll never understand. And when you’ve dug to the bottom and are living like a frog in the mud, it still won’t be deep enough for you. Too far gone, they say. Or—too far gone, but we’ll eat of it anyways. That’s when you’re lucky.

Anise Powder (5 tsp)

It goes by many names, it wears many faces. Try to uncover the essence of its mystery, and it will slip away like a trout biting out of a net. It can wait all night, out in the cold. But try only to find where the mystery resides, and you may come home bearing a gift for the household, which no one will be grateful for. Like a molecule of your body, it must come to you in the right shape. The simple people of the woods pray that it does. The city slickers say ‘anus,’ and laugh, and shake fennel over everything.

Coriander Powder (1 tbsp)

Why do we include it? Because it would feel left out otherwise. Its better days are locked up in a vault, elsewhere. Let pity send its invitations, which sound like seductions. Make sure not to let too much in. Pity has the power of the sun.

Ginger Powder (2 tsp)

Our saddened polity needs a clear, a strong voice. Someone to bring us to the point of things, to slice through all the nonsense and the garbage we die under daily. We require clarity, or we shall never prosper. We are fortunate to have that voice. It will start in a whisper and end by poo-pooing the applause. It touches everything wherever it goes, its charisma is unbound. And all that for a good cause. In a thousand years it will be worshipped on our dollar bills.

Salt (1 tbsp)

We’re all family, we all stem from one seed. The universe is a whole out of which we are divided, but falsely. Smile upon your brother, your sister. Seek out the places where the people go. Talk with them, laugh with them. Sing and dance with them. Speak a language we can all understand. Love is in the handshake.

Cinnamon (8 sticks, crushed)

Who would have guessed? The bark of a tree. But somebody did guess. Somebody in an ancient time, full of moxie, enough moxie to become wise. We are still living in the afterbirth of that fresh boldness. Yes, fresh, it’s still fresh. We peel off the bark in curls and will do so till the end of time. Even when the trees have died, when the scientists grow all our food in a lab, it will be little petri-planted bonsai there, which the people in lab coats with their tools made pure by unearthly fire will scrape the itty-bitty trunk of. The wisdom of the ages does not falter, does not alter.

Cardamom (8 pods)

We all know this guy. And it’s always a guy. He loves to say the off-kilter thing. He loves to court controversy. Black or green. Always a smirk on his face, it’s a joke to him. He poured water over Amy’s head once. He took John’s bike and returned it with two punctured tires. Black or green. He only reads the room to find out what he needs to be contrary of, and loudly. But he’s funny. So, so funny. We love him, black or green.

Cloves (16 heads)

What you see is what you get. It will never be late, never come up short. It will never cheat on you or dump you. It will never leave you unsatisfied. It will never show you the tracks of its tears. It was in a blue mood once, in 1526 AD, but it’s been going strong ever since. It’s polite, but not overmuch. Smell it. Smell it in.

Yogurt (2 dollops)

What a surprise! Did you see it? I never would have expected! I can’t believe it! I don’t even know what to say! What do we even do now? Who would have thought in a million years? And yet, here we are. Dreams really do come true. I could bathe in it.

Rice (2 cups)

Enough of this. Your body has needs, don’t deny it. It needs to be fed, it needs to be touched, it needs to be warmed, to be cooled, to be stretched and used. Use your body. Don’t worry about all these other things, which float atop the sea and call the world a plane. Use your body.

Ankur Razdan is a writer based in the Washington, DC area. A regular fiction contributor at Sterling Clack Clack, he has also appeared in The Westchester Review, The Tiny Journal, and Chestnut Review. Follow him on twitter at https://twitter.com/mukkuthani.