“Hello friends, it’s Braddoc Meryhill back again with something TRULY INCREDIBLE that my wife’s second-cousin’s neighbor (the one with the gorgeous tomatoes) brought back from the post-house in Bree. I’ve been writing letters and digging through mathom-houses and making the acquaintances of many strange folk for many years, hoping to find someone who could get one of these for me, and I’d begun to lose hope that any still existed! But look! All my work has finally been rewarded!
What I have here is a genuine elvish ration from the First Age, still in its original wrapping and therefore still (theoretically) fit to eat. Now, they say that elves have a way of wrapping food in leaves that makes the contents last indefinitely, but six thousand years is a long time even for them! This might be the closest we’ll ever get to testing that theory, since “forever” isn’t quite measurable, but six thousand years… whoo boy! I still can’t quite believe I’m about to open, and then hopefully taste, a piece of ancient history! My hands are shaking.
I’ll guess that this was probably a Sindarin ration, since it’s wrapped in leaves and the Noldor usually used woven cloth for theirs, but later in that Age the Noldor picked up the leaf technique, so we won’t know for sure until we see what’s inside. I’ll just carefully tug at the little tab in this corner, and… oh! It just unfolds! How clever! To think that I’m the first person to do that since it was first packed! Incredible!
All right, let’s see what we have here:
There are two wafers of a sort of waybread, about eight inches square, and the leaves are wrapped around them so that the bread forms a sort of frame on either side for the other items. A ration sandwich, if you will. I imagine this was to make them easier to stack. It’s been knocked around a bit, so all the corners are crumbling off, but it smells all right to me.
Inside the bread we have four more little square leaf-packets. This first one has… oh, it opens into a little cup-shape, that’s delightful. Why, these look like… they’re grubs! Roasted and salted grubs, I think. Heavens, elves will eat just about anything! I happen to know, through my uncle’s neighbor whose grandmother once met some wood-elves, that little creepy-crawlers like this are still considered a very attractive and nutritious snack. The things I do for history’s sake, my friends.
In the second packet, we have what appears to be… raisins? I can’t tell, but if they are raisins, that would probably make this a Noldorin ration, since at this time the Sindar usually made wine out of honey and forest fruit instead of grapes. They’re still plump, and they smell just fine. The whole thing is just in beautiful condition.
This next packet just has a little powder in it? Let me smell. Oof, that’s strong. It smells very herbal, almost spicy. This must be a refreshing beverage, perhaps some sort of tea. You’ll remember when I opened that ration from the Last Alliance and found a small vial of miruvor? I wonder if the elves of the First Age had such rations as well. This particular ration does not. A pity, but I’m curious about this anyway. I’ll add a little water to it now.
Our last packet is—oh, it unfolds into a little bowl! I’ll never get bored of this ingenuity. There’s a little dried cake inside, and it crumbles between my fingers when I pinch it. It has a savory smell. I remember reading that the elves would carry soups and porridges in this form, so I’ll add a little water to it and see what happens.
That might take a minute to reconstitute, so in the meantime, a little context for those of you unfamiliar with elvish rations. This doesn’t look like much food—hardly even a quick second breakfast—but elves need very little compared to either hobbits or big folk. This ration could have lasted several days in lean times, but ideally an elf-warrior would consume a full ration every day they were on the march. In camp, they would communally prepare and eat fresh meals. Each warrior had a personal meal-kit with a little plate and utensils that folded up like a compact mirror—you can see mine in the case behind me. It’s very precious, so I don’t use it.
Oh, I just noticed that there’s steam coming from the beverage and the soup! That’s remarkable! They’ve formulated it so that it heats up when you add water to it! Wow! I’ve never seen anything like that before. I imagine it would be a great morale-booster in the field. Well, that must mean it’s ready, so let’s dig in. I’ll start with the drink.
Hmm. It is very strong indeed. I’m getting a hint of exotic spices and an earthy, roasty flavor… it must be coffee! It was said to be extremely beloved by the Noldor, and they traded for it through their ill-fated alliance with the Easterlings—incredible, just incredible, I’m holding not only a cup of history, but a cup of inter-kindred politics as well! That also gives us a better hint as to when this ration was made. It was likely made in preparation for what became known as the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the “Battle of Unnumbered Tears” in our tongue, to be carried by a member of the Union of Maedhros. If that is the case, it’s even more amazing that this ration survived at all. I could study nothing but its history for the rest of my life and still not know how it came out of Beleriand and into my hands.
This waybread seems like it would go well with the coffee. Ah, it does seem to be a little stale, but no worse than a loaf of ordinary bread exposed to the air for a day or so. Hmm. Very crunchy. Almost biscuit-like. Not much flavor, but it is packed with nuts and seeds. Definitely nutritious, if not very exciting. Ooh. It is much better when dipped in the coffee.
Moving along to the soup, since it seems to be fully moistened. And piping hot, I’ll never be over that. It doesn’t smell rancid, thankfully. Just like a thick, chickeny, vegetable-y stock, with some bits floating in it. It seems they threw a bit of everything into a pot, cooked the devil out of it, spread it out to dry, and then pressed it into cakes. It’s quite salty, but inoffensive. It doesn’t seem like much, but again, I’d imagine that a warrior on a winter campaign would welcome anything hot.
The raisins are definitely raisins, I’m sure. Wouldn’t be out of place in a scone at my tea table. Not much else to say about them, except that I’m astonished that they’re so fresh, just like the rest.
Well, my friends, I’ll admit that I’ve been dreading the grubs, but I won’t put it off any longer. It isn’t the way we do things, but surely the elves know what they’re about!
Oh dear. I can see their little legs. The things I do, friends. The things I do.
Euuurgh. It’s crunchy. I am picturing nothing but feelers and eyeballs.
Hm. Swallowing it took an extra try, but the whole experience was not as bad as I was anticipating. A bit like a salted pumpkin seed, with a little bit of a… hm… a buggy flavor is the only word for it. I’d better try another one to see if I can get a better perspective on it.
Hmm. They’re rather addictive. I’m still a bit repulsed, but I can’t stop eating them. I’d love to chat with an elf about this—for instance, I’d love to know how they got the idea in the first place. I know I wouldn’t just pick a bug off the ground and decide to eat it, but perhaps that’s just my hobbitish sensibilities speaking.
Well, we’ve come to the end of this ration, and I feel that I’ve closed a chapter of my own life. This is perhaps the oldest thing ever eaten by a mortal, and perhaps even by anyone! I can now say that I’ve put the claim of imperishable elvish food-storage techniques to the test, and I’d have to say that the rumors and tales are, if not proven, at least plausible. Yes! The elves really do wrap their rations in such a way that they keep fresh “forever”! That is unless I’ve been sold a counterfeit, in which case I shall take my golf-club and find the person responsible.
Thank you for all your kind and curious responses up to now! I’m not sure I’ll be able to surpass this First Age, Noldorin, Union of Maedhros army ration in the future, but I hope you will stick around to find out! As always, I remain your intrepid friend Braddoc Meryhill, unless this ration turns on me sometime in the night!”
