There was mountain cheese with hazelnuts and chestnuts, acorn dumplings with honeysuckle sauce, a latticed bilberry tart with whiterose cream, golden-crusted bread hot from the ovens, and a choice of spiced fruit cordial or borage an' rosehip tea.
I'd have a wedge of meadow cheese, the one with hazelnuts and carrots in it, and one, no two, of Abbot Durral's fresh crusty oat farls, straight from the oven.
They tucked into spring vegetable stew, mixed fruit turnovers topped with meadowcream, and some cold mixed berry cordial.
At the center of the table sat a mouthwatering mountain of beech and hazel slice: shortbread biscuits covered in sliced nuts and plum preserve, alongside bowls of red currants grown at the Abbey.
Soon everybeast was tucking into honeyed hazelnuts, carrot and turnip bread, celery-studded cheese, and one of Goodwife Stickle's apple and cream puddings. There was dandelion an' mint tea or pennycloud'n'rosehip tonic to go with it.
I'd have a wedge of yellow cheese, the one with hazelnuts and carrots in it, and one, no two, of Granmum Gurvel's fresh crusty oat farls, straight from the oven.
Wild onion and leek soup provided by the otters; a large flagon of mulled October ale; Mother Buscol's famous gooseberry pie; horsechestnuts baked in cider; Gatehouse gateau; and cask of coltsfoot an' honey cordial brewed by the hedgehogs.
In the kitchens, Goodwife Stickle was at their wits' end. The Foremole and his team had decided to make the biggest preserved plum'n'apple pudding ever seen in Mossflower country. Flour, fruit, honey and cream everywhere!
I want a slice o' that big cake, the one with nutcream an' hazelnut truffles all over the top!
The afternoon meal included celery and mushroom turnovers, hogweed and dandelion salad dressed with crowfoot and garlic mustard, and leek and onion soup. Back and forth the delicious fare went from paw to paw amid banter, laughter, and animated conversation.
The food was good, but not fancy: autumn pears and russet apples, nuts and raspberries, hot redcurrant pancakes, soft spice bread, cheeses, and mint tea, with flagons of cordial for those who wanted it.
Leek and celery soup provided by the otters; a large flagon of October ale; Abbot Durral's famous orchard fruit cake with a buttercup cream center; thick barley biscuits and apple slices; mint wafers; and cask of blackberry cordial brewed by the hedgehogs.
Half an hour before dawn the young mouse was roused by a shrew who gave him an acorn cup full of wild cherry juice, a loaf of rough elderflower bread, and some tasty fresh roots he could not identify. By first light they were on the move again.
Strawberry cream scones, warm and fresh from the ovens, spread with redcurrant preserves and washed down with honey an' blackberry cordial.
That pennywort cordial looks nice 'n' cool. Pour me a beaker. Look at this, cheese 'n' leek turnover, mushroom, leek, 'n' gravy pasty, apple crumble, an' a bowl of nutcream. They certainly know 'ow t'feed us at this Abbey, mates!
It's called mint leaf an' rosehip cordial. Very nice with meadowcream pudding and whortleberries—go on, fill your plate.
The Abbey breakfast board was laid with plum and greengage tarts, hot hazelnut turnovers dripping with honey, pancakes with pears, and beakers of redcurrant an' roseleaf cordial.
They sipped Gurdle Sprink's fizzy pear cider and munched hot hazelnut and acorn scones that contained chunks of candied pear. The elders drank special dandelion beer and cut slices of yellow cheese studded with hazelnuts and carrot to go with it.
Cheese'n'carrot turnovers, chestnut'n'mushroom bake, or maybe some freshly-baked crusty chestnut and barley bread? Heat up some of that summer vegetable soup we had for dinner last night.
Whilst the shrews made the raft streamworthy, the rest sat on the bank lunching on mushroom pasties and watercress and turnip soup.
They camped at the edge of the path that night. Seated by a merry little fire they had a good supper of hazelnut an' acorn scones, fourseason plumcake, and cherry wine.
There was a thick mushroom stew, warm brown bread, a deep dish of carrot'n'mushroom bake topped with cheese, and a plumcake with meadowcream. After the meal, they sipped meadowsweet an' sage tea.
A smidgen of greengage jam-filled willowcake, a pawful of apples, a swig of rosehip an' almond flower tea, a beaker full of damson an' pear cordial, some of the hazelnut truffles, lots of soft cheese and chive dip, and an extra-large helping of roasted mackerel.
The young ones sat on the floor eating thick slices of fresh arrowhead bread spread with comb honey and redcurrant preserves and sipping from beakers of hot mint an' dandelion tea.
Eyes widened as dish after dish was brought to the table. Quince pie, jugs of plum'n'apple cider! One giant basin o' mushroom and dandelion petal soup! Wheels of herb-studded cheese, hot loaves of acorn bread! Plum slices with honeymaple preserves!
What time is it? Just past noon, wot. I'd normally be sittin' down to me post-luncheon snack now. Arrowroot wafers, scones with gooseberry jelly an' cornflower butter, with a nice pot o' coltsfoot an' burdock tea.
Coggs Stickle arrived with two pottery beakers of freshly brewed comfrey tea and a platter of warm woodland scones.
Sage and butternut bread, warm and fresh from the ovens, spread with damson jam and washed down with pear cider.
Lunch was a fairly simple one: sliced fruits—apple, pear, greengage, and plum, some fresh-baked biscuits and elderberry jelly, and bilberry an' apple cordial, foamy and cold from Ferdy Stickle's vaults.
The food was good, but not fancy: damsons and russet apples, nuts and berries, hot muffins, soft dandelion bread, cheeses, and comfrey tea, with flagons of cordial for those who wanted it.
