Alif turned his attention to the platter in front of him: it contained, or so he was fairly confident, stewed meat and saffron rice, along with a cooked green that might have been spinach. A pile of warm flatbread sat beside the food on the edge of the tray. Tearing a loaf in half, he scooped up meat and rice and took an experimental bite. The flavours of cardamon and pepper and gamey meat bloomed on his tongue.
"Goat," he said. "Or at least, that's my guess."
"A relative of one of those ladies at the other table, maybe," muttered NewQuarter.
- G. Willow Wilson, Alif the Unseen.
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