Stew and Bread

I have read a lot of high fantasy — a lot of it. Wizards, magics, spells, heroes, dragons, and all the gamut of things that make it exciting. Some good writing, some great and some horrible.

And inevitably, in most — nay, may I say ALL — such books, there are the Inns. This is where weary travelers stop for some mead, some food, some flirtatious barmaids, maybe a nice brushing for their horses. They mostly stop to participate in some cliched plot devices, of course.

And inevitably, there is one act that every protagonist will perform at these inns — which is that, they’ll be eating a meat stew (always a stew) and then they’ll— I quote verbatim from many books — use the last of their bread to mop up the remains of their stew.

Is this some universal way of eating bread and stew that crosses all fantasy realms? And what is so medievally alluring about stew? They have magic systems, for crying out loud. Can’t they conjure up more delectable foods, like maybe a burger?

How ill-mannered, really.

Yuck.