Karl watched with a smile as the dwarves instantly transformed into hungry wolves. He slowly took a wooden bowl, used a long spoon to scoop up some noodles, and then ladled in some broth. Then, in front of everyone, he raised the bowl to his lips.
"Slurp." Karl sipped the soup, emitting a long, satisfying nasal sound. The moment the broth entered his mouth, he closed his eyes, a look of pleasure on his face. "Ah... that's the taste."
Karl let out an exaggeratedly satisfied sigh, opened his eyes, and looked again at Thorin and the others. This scene was the last straw that broke the dwarves' resolve. Gandalf's breathing quickened, and Thorin's eyes turned bloodshot. The other dwarves were even more impatient, nearly lunging at the pot to grab it.
"Karl! Share it! Now!" Thorin's voice was almost a growl.
Then Karl slowly set down his bowl and glanced at his wolf-like companions. "Line up one by one. Anyone who tries to cut in won't get their turn."
As soon as he finished speaking, Gandalf immediately straightened up, adopting a posture that said "I am the most law-abiding," and stood before Karl. Thorin hesitated for a second but still stood behind Gandalf. The other dwarves quickly formed a line, though it was crooked and uneven. From time to time, someone tried to move forward, but under Karl's stern gaze, they ultimately managed to maintain basic order.
Bilbo, as expected, ended up at the back of the line. He sighed and resigned himself to his fate. He craned his neck to see ahead, watching as the golden noodles were ladled into bowls and passed to the eager recipients.
There was a minor hiccup during the distribution of utensils; Karl handed everyone a pair of chopsticks made from thin twigs, polished smooth. But the dwarves, holding two thin wooden strips, looked at each other in confusion, completely clueless about how to use them.
"What... what is this?" Fili held the chopsticks as if they were some dangerous object.
"These are eating utensils," Karl demonstrated. He easily picked up a few strands of noodles with the chopsticks and, with elegant, fluid movements, put them into his mouth, leaving everyone completely bewildered.
Thorin frowned and tried, but the chopsticks seemed particularly uncooperative in his thick fingers. He tried several times to pick up the noodles, but they kept slipping out, and even some of the soup spilled from his bowl. Soon, his face gradually reddened, and his blood pressure rose; the other dwarves found themselves in the same situation. Bofur's chopsticks fell straight into his bowl. Bofur tried to pick up the noodles but used too much force and broke them. Dori was luckier — he simply used the two chopsticks as forks, trying to spear the noodles, but ended up tipping over his bowl.
"This thing is completely useless!" Kili finally gave up and threw the chopsticks to the ground. "Our hands are meant to hold axes and hammers, not to play with these little sticks!"
"Agreed!" Fili echoed, also tossing aside his chopsticks.
Thorin took a deep breath, looking at the gradually cooling noodles in his bowl, and then at the two unruly thin wooden sticks. In the end, pride gave way to appetite; he put down the chopsticks and reached out with both hands to grab the food. Seeing this, the other dwarves followed suit, and soon the camp was filled with slurping and chewing sounds. They scooped up the noodles with their thick fingers, stuffed them into their mouths, and didn't even try to wipe the broth dripping from their beards; they were focused only on the food.
However, Gandalf insisted on using the chopsticks. He leaned against a tree, his back to the others, and carefully picked up one noodle at a time, bringing them to his mouth. Though his movements were clumsy, he at least maintained a basic level of decorum. With each bite, he let out a satisfied sigh, his beard trembling slightly as he chewed.
Bilbo quickly mastered the use of chopsticks, and his frequent cooking and occasional repairs allowed him to handle these utensils with ease. He ate in small bites, his eyes gradually widening; this was the most delicious food he had ever eaten.
---
A few minutes later, all the noodles were gone. The dwarves sat by the fire, finishing the last remnants of the soup from their bowls, their faces showing a lingering sense of satisfaction.
Balin patted his protruding belly and let out a contented burp: "Incredibly delicious. The portion may not look big, but it's very filling."
"Right, this is exactly the kind of food dwarves should eat," Dwalin replied, licking his fingers.
"What rubbish were we eating before?" Bofur glanced at the forgotten pot of overcooked porridge nearby, disgust on his face.
Bifur joked: "That's Balin's special stew! It'll make you forget all your troubles."
"Because all your attention will be focused on the terrible taste."
Balin glared at him, but couldn't help laughing at himself. Kili and the others even tried to lick the pot where the remaining soup and oil had been left. But Karl quickly reacted, snatching the pot away: "No, that's disgusting. I'll wash it myself."
The group immediately expressed disappointment, but didn't dare to snatch the gift from Karl's hands.
Gandalf finally finished eating. He put down his chopsticks and elegantly wiped his mouth and beard with a handkerchief. Then he walked over to Karl, gave a slight bow, and spoke in an exaggerated tone. "Oh, Mr. Karl, allow me to express my deepest respect to you."
"I never thought you were also a master of the culinary arts."
Karl smiled and said: "You flatter me. It's not art, just ordinary craftsmanship."
Bilbo wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a satisfied sigh. His gaze involuntarily fell on the pushed-aside cauldron. The pot of porridge Balin had cooked was still sitting there, cooled and congealed, with a greyish-white film on its surface.
"Guys, what should we do with the food cooked in this pot? Will we eat it tomorrow?" Bilbo suddenly asked.
In an instant, silence fell over the room. Thorin, Balin, Dwalin... all the dwarves turned to look at the cauldron. The satisfied expressions on their faces gradually froze, then shifted to complex emotions. After enjoying such delicious food, why would they make themselves eat that porridge again? Who could accept that? Even a dog wouldn't eat it!
Balin cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly: "Uh... well... we don't have to eat it, really..."
"But it's food, it's supplies we bought with money; we can't just throw it away," Kili said, a conflicted expression on his face.
Fili's gaze darted around, then he looked at Bilbo: "Maybe you could eat it, Bilbo?"
"You're a hobbit, you have a big appetite, and you just ate the least."
Thorin and the others looked at Bilbo, their eyes full of anticipation. They didn't expect Bilbo to like the food; they expected him to solve the problem. Bilbo quickly shook his head, waving his hands in front of his chest: "No, no, no, I'm already full, I can't eat any more. A whole pot!"