"How could they not?" An elder slapped the table and spoke first, fired up: "I've lived in the village these past few years and don't get out much, but when I was young, I used to work regularly in town. That master of the house treated his hired hands well. Back then, when his daughter married and he held a feast, he invited a chef from a restaurant to cook. Whatever was left over, he shared with us workers. I ate some that day—oily and rich, with meat too—but the flavor wasn't as good as this."
Because that had been his first time eating a big chunk of meat, and it was made by the head chef of the town's finest eatery—he had remembered that taste his whole life.
