It was nothing like the food from home, but it was good. A thick, hearty stew made with venison and loads of vegetables; dark, nutty bread and something Astira called apple butter; and more of the mulled wine. There was also something sort of like the hand pies he bought at the market on occasion, but sweet. They were stuffed with apples, flavored with cinnamon and dark sugar, and served as individual portions in small ceramic pots. He could have eaten fifty of them, easily.
"So you like apple cobbler, I see," Astira said with a laugh.
"Is that what it is?" Omar asked as he used the last of the crust to mop up the remaining juice and bits of apple. "It's delicious."
"My cook makes a version where the apples are soaked in brandy for a bit, and there's a brandy cream sauce that's poured o
