With the Sun blocked off by a mile of dirt, the Neath has developed its own cuisine of delicacies and comestibles that are both similar and different from their Surface counterparts. Good Surface-food is in high demand down here and is considered a luxury; it can be harvested in Aestival (good luck making it there though). Feel free to browse our menu of the Neath's Finest!
Since greens are rather rare down here in the Neath, mushrooms and other fungi are often used as a substitute. Fungi can be made into spore-toffees, something resembling vegetables, or even wine. Of note are the delicious Mr Murgatroyd's Fungal Crackers.
A somewhat different variety of cherry, solacefruit are parasitic fruit that grow on trees in the Wisp-Ways. Best eaten in small quantities, as eating larger amounts of this fruit is one of the nicest ways to die.
Zzoup is the preferred food among zailors. The colour: old blood on snow. The taste: paprika, mushrooms, irony. The recipe: winewound chanterelles, exile's rose, paprika, pork stock, lament-onions, hanged men's tears, and some salt.
According to Mrs Plenty: "Alarming beasts dredged up from the Unterzee, hit on the head, chopped up and fried in batter. Two hours from trawler to newspaper wrapping. Luvverly. No Rubbery Man content whatever. Guaranteed by Mr Hearts, so it is."
Plenty's rubbery lumps are pale imitations of the genuine stuff over at Mutton Island (though her pies still, somehow, keep for weeks). Don't say that to her face, though.
Gathered from the Pale Wastes, mutersalt tastes like clean air and crystallized ginger. It's been used by several famous (or merely lavish) chefs of the Neath, like the Brisk Campaigner and the Bandaged Poissonnier, but it's also useful to Urchins like Slivvy. It can paralyze one's vocal cords if consumed, and stings like Hell's nettles if it gets in your eyes.
Hungry for something exotic, are we? I suppose it's worth bringing up "Tyrant's Treat," then. We swear it's healthy. No, it's not rotten; the shipment from Whither came just this morning. Hold your breath, and then take a bite. I'll put a bucket right here, in case of, ah, unforeseen troubles. The janitor already has so much work to do.
This highly toxic hybrid fruit grows only from a single tree in Parabola. Don't eat the pips. Or the green bits. Or the zest. Eat only the part of the fruit that isn't angry about things that happened while it was still a flower. That's the only safe part.
The Neath has many, many, varieties of alcoholic drinks. The most popular are the Greyfields mushroom wines. Mr Wines also made a few drinks of his own, though we aren't held accountable for the things you may do under their influence.
Airag is a valuable Fourth City beverage, made of fermented mares' milk, and tomb-colonists drink something called dustwine that's said to taste like roses and make your mind flip itself over. That being said, it's more like a dust than a liquid.
Tea is common in the Neath. But this tea is not your ordinary tea that street vendors offer to the undemanding public. Only the finest and the highest quality tea leaves are used to brew our magnificent tea. Our shipper says that the jasmine was gathered in the Elder Continent itself! ...Or did he meant the Surface? Regardless of origin, it is the best and most remarkable tea you could find here. Except for...
Less strange, but terribly expensive tea in London made from this coral that glimmers as if moonlit. Also it's used for marvellous jewellery and an analogue of tobacco snuff.
Nightmare-plagued individuals in the Mirror-Marches may be tempted by somewhat, well, nightmarish fruit: decadent, Surface-fruit-like plums, grapes, and cherries. Yum... until you choke on an expanding grapeseed. Or gorge on plums for an entire day, your hunger never sated.