Cutting into strips, width not more than 3 mm, Shir Ali thought offhand. Highlander quickly cut carrots, first white and then red.
White carrots are drier, but they have a brighter root texture than red carrots. And red is more juicy, sweet. But there is no such aroma. The combination of two types of carrots gave pilaf a special taste. Made him richer and more diverse.
Shir Ali saw a knife flicker, these were honed movements. It can be seen that the hand is accustomed to working masterly with a knife. Shir Ali, to his embarrassment, could not yet, boast such precision slicing and speed. He still had a lot to learn. He was only an amateur cook, and the highlander was obviously a professional. If not as a cook, then as a hunter. The knife in his hand lay like a glove as if he were an extension of the hand.
A mountain of carrots grew rapidly.
"Well, help me"? the highlander grunted.
"Yes? What should I do?" coming out of thought, said Shir Ali.
"I've forgotten the bow, go downstairs, ask my daughter Mardon to help you find him," the highlander asked.
Shir Ali, not understanding the reason for this, went down to the source.
There were three girls who washed their bowls in a separate basin, talking merrily to each other.
"Hey boy! What have you forgotten here? Hihihihi!" one of them giggled. And the others burst out laughing. They started pestering the younger girl. She was embarrassed.
Shir Ali thought, but in the highlands, nevertheless, customs were not typical of plains and cities. In the city, he could have been beaten with white sticks on the heels.
How he heard stories from his grandfather. That in ancient times, there were very clear and precise customs and traditions. Violation of which meant they would be punished.
But it's good that the mountains had other traditions, softer.
But here Shir Ali simply did not understand that he was only 8 years old, and not 10, so he could freely communicate with the girls for another 2 years. Yes, and in the mountains, there really were slightly different customs. This was due to the fact that other people lived in the mountains. With their views on tradition. They were more ancient and less subject to external changes. They were more reliable. Natural and not imposed by politicians.
Shir Ali, on the other hand, did not want to get into these subtleties, although he was a genius, he was still only an 8-year-old child.
"Who is Mardon here?" to interrupt an awkward situation, he deliberately asked in a bass.
Which caused an additional laugh, and Shir Ali was even more embarrassed, his face turned red, his breathing became intermittent.
"Well, well now, he's already such an adult that he says bass! Chicken! Why do you need Mardon? Or maybe you need Dourdon or Barno?"
The girls burst out laughing again, "going to get married, or what?"
From above there was an imperious cry of "hey girls, don't bother the guest, go to Mardon, bring him the bow, quickly!"
Shir Ali was rid of jokes, and the girls only laughed with their hands over their delicate mouths. And Mardon threatened them with a fist with a smile, quickly minced for onions.
He was lying in the cellar, part of it had already bloomed ... Mardon chose the one that had not yet covered with green sprouts.
Passing the white onion into Shir Ali's hands, Mardona chuckled at the bottom with the girls to wash the dishes. And the surprised Shir Ali went to the top.
He was met by the mountaineer's sly gaze, "Well, what do you want to marry"?
Highlander immediately laid out.
Shir Ali was in shock!
"Well, the youngest Barno, are you the same age as her, by the way, what year were you born?"
"Bull"! Shir Ali answered. "Eight moons have passed!"
"And here she is in the year of the rat, which means she is 4 years older than you!" "Mardon is already 15 years old, and Durdon is 14 years old. All the craftswomen are doing everything they can, cook, clean, chop wood, sew clothes. As a mother, she and her grandmother and younger children are staying with her grandmother. They will come in two days. They live in a neighboring mountain gorge! " the happy father, the highlander, shared his plans.
"No, I don't want to get married yet, why are you?" Shir Ali began to deny.
"No, well, don't refuse immediately, the girls are pretty, they will tell you tales, rub your feet, cook delicious food. So it will be fun!" with a cunning eye convinced his highlander.
"Uncle, when will we cook pilaf?" decided to run away from the topic of Shir Ali.
"Well, dear guest, first we will cook pilaf and then ... then we'll talk about who you liked more and get engaged to one of them?" the mountaineer bent his line.
Shir Ali waved his hand, anyway a dream of it. Let him say what he wants, the main thing is to find out the pilaf recipe, and then I'll somehow get out of this delicate situation.
The mountaineer already painfully looked at his young guest, a good fellow, and he also has a package with saffron, a merchant from an influential clan. Where to find the best candidate for his daughters? You need to fish while it is in front of you!
The mountaineer, smiling with oil eyes, began to clean the onion and cut it in half rings.