Unokk Rice Stew and the Rite of Un-Khir

Despite the trials and tribulations one faces on a daily basis in the red sands of Zhagrizia, there are a few choice pleasures one can always depend upon to melt away the stresses of the locals’ nomadic lifestyle. I had the utmost pleasure of traveling with a caravan alongside my translator, Braddoch, a Zhagrizian native who moved to the Issidorn Empire when he was young. Amid the dozens of lessons in nomad culture he taught me daily, he always instilled in me the importance of desert cuisine. The nomads have a peculiar way of viewing the desert, not just as an arid wasteland of endless dunes and mirages like us Imperial folk. No, the Zhagrizians view the desert as the physical embodiment of their goddess, Zhagri, for whom the country was named. In local myths, she is always portrayed as harsh, but fair, granting her boons only to those who use their wisdom and intelligence to prove themselves worthy of them. And just like her, the desert itself rewards only the hardiest and smartest foragers and hunters. Even farms and produce can survive the sandstorms and the giant wildlife, if the farmers themselves are resourceful enough.

In terms of cuisine, the nomads have a particularly delicious dish reserved for the special rite of Un-Khir, where boys would enter a hunt, and leave as men. This dish is called Unokk Rice Stew. The recipe goes as follows:

One Unokk carcass, fresh

An Unokk, for those unaware, is an enormous, burrowing arachnid that makes its home amid the red canyons and caves of the wasteland. Far from the ordinary spider or scorpion, the Unokk most closely resembles a black ant, save that it has two drill-like pincers, its exoskeleton is sleek but spiny, and it possesses a tail tipped with five or six venomous barbs. These monstrous creatures stand at nearly nine feet tall and fifteen feet long. As solitary hunters, the Unokk primarily hunt down and devour the gargantuan digger worms that shift below the surface of the dunes, paralyzing the behemoths with their stingers and eating the still-living victim. When the Unokk has eaten its fill, the females of the species will often lay their eggs in the remains of the carcass, where the larvae will devour the remainder of the worm after hatching.

The Unokk is the centerpiece of the Un-Khir rite of passage and the feast that follows, as it is the beast the men-to-be are to hunt and kill for their transition to be complete. Often they will chase down an Unokk that’s in the middle of a hunt itself, though it’s not unheard of for a group of boys to corner an Unokk within the rocky confines of its own lair. Though some boys will die during the hunt, a lucky one or two will manage to drive their spear past its mandibles, piercing the brain with a swift and merciless blow.

Onions, peeled and diced

Although produce is thought to be impossible to grow in a desert setting (and even more so due to a nomadic lifestyle), the Zhagrizians have managed to cultivate various fruits and vegetables due to a basic form of hydroponic horticulture. They tend to use large glass jugs tied to their carts and camels with rope. The jugs carry seedlings and bulbs submerged in a nutrient-rich water mixture, the contents of which they refuse to divulge to me. They bathe the jugs in the sun, covering them when necessary, to ensure the crops receive just the right amount of sunlight. This method has proven to yield large, rich vegetables and fruits.

Peppers, red and/or yellow, sliced into strips

The peppers grown by the nomads are some of the greatest I’ve ever tasted. Juicy and sweet, they inherit just the right amount of smoky flavor when charred above a roaring fire.

Garlic, minced

Fresh garlic is preferred here, as aged garlic tends to have a much stronger flavor and can easily overpower the Unokk’s natural flavor.

Tomatoes, mashed into paste

Zhagrizian tomatoes are visually and flavorfully distinct from the typical tomatoes I’m used to seeing. These specimens are a much deeper, almost maroon color, and are generally about the size of a clementine or lemon. Flavor-wise, they have a much deeper and richer flavor, generally being used as the base for sauces.

Rice, steamed

Rice is one of the few food items not grown by the nomads, as they have no way of reliably cultivating it themselves. Instead, they obtain bags of dried rice from merchant caravans they encounter on their way, hoarding it especially during harsh times.

Goat milk

Although some caravans prefer to use cows, goats are the most common source of dairy in a nomad’s diet. They are smaller and easier to transport than cows, although they must be kept in greater numbers to avoid complications in case a few die or are picked off by cunning predators.

Goat butter

As well as simply using its base form, goat milk is also utilized in making butter, yogurt, and cheese for use in desert cuisine.

Various spices: cloves, black pepper, coriander, black lime, cumin, bay leaves, etc.

Like with rice, many spices utilized in Zhagrizian cuisine are bought from traders, although some caravans are adamant on growing the spices themselves. The caravan I shadowed on my journey was not so stubborn, their elders stating that they would be foolish not to accept aid from outsiders when possible.

When preparing the Unokk, the senior hunters will dismantle the carcass first, gutting the thorax and abdomen to remove the toxic organs and glands. Several women will then season the meat inside with salt and black pepper. After seasoning the meat, they set to work with sewing needles and butcher’s twine, sealing the thorax and abdomen back together and trussing up the corpse, like it were a fowl to be served at a fancy dinner party. One of the hunters will prepare an enormous fire for roasting the beast, ensuring its flames are the right temperature. When it is ready, the Unokk will be placed straight into the coals of the fire, its spiny exoskeleton acting as a natural cooking vessel, gently roasting the soft meat inside.

While the meat is being cooked, the other women and young girls will set about preparing the rice and vegetables that will act as the bed of the dish for the Unokk to be placed upon. The sliced onions and peppers will be tossed into several giant pans, along with the minced garlic and goat butter, being cooked over fires until fragrant and soft. Then, the tomato paste and goat milk will be added, stirred into the mixture until fully blended together. The women will then add the spices, tasting the sauce and adding more spice if it is not to their liking. I should note here that none of the nomads use any sort of measuring instruments or practices; all of them merely add what they believe to be the right amount. After the spice balance is found to be satisfactory, the women will then add the rice to the sauce, stirring and cooking over low heat so the flavors can blend and meld into one another.

When all elements are prepared for the feast, the Un-Khir participants are sat down in the middle of a circle of the nomads, being given heaping plates of the Unokk rice stew and cups filled with prickly pear wine. The boys each take bites of their food and sips of their wine. By the time the bites have settled in their stomachs, they are proclaimed as men. The surrounding nomads erupt in cheers and mirth, and the feast begins proper.

The dish is absolutely marvelous, if I say so myself. The Unokk itself, once its black shell is broken open, is soft and juicy, similar in texture to shrimp or shellfish meat, nothing like I previously imagined. Its slightly fishy taste is enhanced by the salt and pepper, unmasked by any other strong flavors. The rice stew is rich and spicy, with strong notes of garlic, tomato and coriander, with the proper bite of pepper to finish. Several of the nomads handed me one of the Unokk’s tail-barbs and encouraged me to squeeze out a few drops of venom onto the meat, like it was lime juice. It gave the meat a smoky, tangy, and rather sour flavor that left my tongue and lips numb for hours. I actually enjoyed the experience, though Braddoch warned me not to partake of it if I had any cuts or sores in my mouth. He’d heard many stories of nomads with mouth cuts who partook of Unokk venom in their stew, only to end up dead several hours later.

Overall, both the Unokk rice stew and the Un-Khir celebration were incredible experiences that gave me such rich tastes of Zhagrizian culture. Perhaps I may find a way to replicate the flavors of the rice stew in my home kitchen, minus the violent arachnid and the venomous, tongue-numbing sensation, of course.