Food in Final Fantasy IX

Disc 1

FF9 has a strange, bulimiarexic approach to food. Quina eats enemies. The stork monster eats party members. Party members... eat nothing. At all. When Zidane goes into bars, they're out of the special of the day; when the barkeep offers him a special new dish, he waves it off hastily and claims that he's full. Food shop clerks, standing behind counters filled with pastries and cakes, will talk about the food but will not offer anyone any. A secondary character who dares to insist upon buying a cake misses his shuttle because of it. The one time the party does get to take part in a feast, the food is poisoned. Eating in Gaia is a dangerous act, best performed in full armor in the midst of battle.

Later:

Garnet-tachi just fought a fanged purple worm that vomited out its stomach and spacked Steiner with it.

For a LOT of points.

I give up. The situation is hopeless. Somewhere on Disc 3 I'm going to run into the real Iron Chef, and we are all going to die, because there is nothing more fearsome than a forty-foot-tall iron giant who wields the fearsome power of food.

Disc 2

So our heroes found absolute and unquestionable proof that Queen Brahne was behind the Black Mages, and learned from Garnet's uncle that Brahne was getting the mages from a weapons dealer named Kuja, who lived far to the north on a Mistless outer continent known as Delaware. They decided that rather than take on the source of their problems directly, they would cut off Brahne's dealer. That involved a boring and nasty trip through a toll tunnel called the Fossil Roo (which was probably supposed to be the Fossil Rue, but if the translators can't read Japlish, they can't be expected to know Japench).

When our heroes stumbled into the bright, Mistless light of Delaware, woozy and seasick from riding upside-down on spiders, they emerged into a hot, harsh world. Sun-scorched ground. Dying forests. Killer cactuses in little green sombreros. Life was nasty, brutish, and short, and so were the inhabitants.

...Scratch that.

The monsters were nasty and brutish. The inhabitants were short. And green. And possessed of chins as huge as camel's humps, which performed about the same function. They lived in a vaguely Central American Indian templesque village on a bridge, where they spent their time sipping tea by the fountain while they talked about food and sex.

I approve.

Admittedly, the Pumpkin Bomb (bombe?) which the shopkeeper offered Quina cost 1,000 gil, the price of a fairly nice weapon, and when Zidane talked to the same shopkeeper, he didn't have any food to sell--only potions. Apparently there's a menu for normal people and a menu for adventurers, and the adventurers all get the liquid diet. People continually accused poor Quina of being the thief who was stealing all their food--as though there were any way to miss Quina long enough for her to steal something. Even in idyllic little Conde Petie, food is associated with lawbreaking and denial. But the people were at least willing to talk about it.

Their other favorite topic, on the other hand, was sweet. Courting couples stood in the sunlight, contemplating the boat they would one day be married on. Village elders drinking tea around the village hookah discussed getting wives for their sons. There was no small-minded discrimination, though--they were just as willing to consider Dagger as wife material. Will-she nil-she. Eventually Zidane figured out that the "Sanctuary" the Conde Petiens were talking about--a sort of dwarven Niagara Falls--was where he and his bunch needed to go next, but the only way the dwarves would let them go was to go through "the ceremony"... so everyone in the party got married to each other. Despite the fact that the dwarves considered Vivi a little boy, they were quite happy to see him wed. It was very gentle and Gretna Green in its own pot-addled way.

So the happy couples bounced off into the wilderness, picked up another pathetic lifeform, dropped by the Sanctuary, hit a force field, and turned back to figure out what plot trigger they'd missed. Ah! They hadn't taken the pathetic lifeform home! So off they toddled to the other half of the wilderness, and came across... a ruined city. Filled with Moogles.

Have I mentioned yet that Moogles freak me out?

...That's a rant for a later time. Anyway. There was a band of Moogles living in the ruins of Madain Sari, taking care of a pathetic lifeform named Eiko. (May I also add that Gaia needs a serious social-services overhaul? So far we've met Vivi, whose foster-father wanted to eat him, Zidane, whose foster-father beat him and forced him to work as a thief-slash-actor--and we all know what actors do between shows--Garnet, whose mother was so deranged that her uncle had to arrange for her kidnapping in order to get custody of her, and the Prince of Burmecia, whose father seems not to have noticed that his son has drifted away and is now living in the streets. And now Eiko, who's about eight and who's being looked after by a band of marshmallow-brained flying teddycats who probably worship Satan. There are at least two Evil Overpersons in the game so far, and neither of them has seen the howling need for a decent social services machine. Any Evil Overperson worth their salt would have all of these children slaving in the Black Mage factory in Dali right now. It's a waste, letting them stumble about the continent high on potions and cheap elixir.)

...After that digression, perhaps we should start over.

There was a band of Moogles living in the ruins of Madain Sari, taking care of a pathetic lifeform named Eiko. Eiko's lonely for someone who doesn't go, "Kupo!", and in the great anime tradition, she has decided that she, the perky flatchested grade-schooler, is going to seduce the show's hunk away from Garnet. And how is she going to do it? The traditional way: with FOOD!

The Moogles point out that she can't cook.

She tells them that they're going to help her.

They whine.

She fusses.

She wins.

So what shall we cook? she says. How about rock-fisted potato stew? A picture of a pot of vile yellowed stew slides across the screen. Yeah! That's good! But we need something else. What about... barbecued fish! A picture of a disgruntled browned fish on a bed of lettuce slides across the screen. Great! We'll make that. So who wants to make what?

WAIT! I cry. What about vegetables?

Apparently that's what the bed of lettuce is for.

There are three Moogles in the kitchen: a tiny one, a sleepy one, and a sensible one. Who should go fishing? asks Eiko. A decision menu pops up on the screen.

Why are you asking me, you silly bint? You're the one who lives with them! Fine; let's pick this name here.

Great! And who should get the potatoes?

The sleepy one. Potatoes don't move fast, so it should be about his speed.

And the last one will help in the kitchen. Great! Did I make the right choices?

First, you didn't choose, I did. And second, the hell should I know? Moogles all look alike to me. Doesn't matter to me which fuzzy Satanist you have grubbing about in the potato patch. But you're still looking at me expectantly, so I'll poke "yes" and let you get on with the cut scene.

So we have Zidane, Dagger, that quiet boy, and me coming to dinner, plus [insert a long list of Moogles' names]. How much stew should we make?

Blink.

I wasn't paying any attention. How should I know? But you're looking at me expectantly and the Moogle is fluttering over the waterfall with a heavy-looking iron pot in his little paws, and if I wait too long he's probably going to fall into the waterfall, drown, and remanifest in his true spiritual body, freed of his fleshly shackles. And I just don't want to deal with that many tentacles in the kitchen. So I'll say... uh...

...Four plus one plus three, or was it six, and... oh! She didn't mention Quina! She must not know that Quina's still around. So I'll say eleven, since I think there are about ten, and you should always make extra. You've never seen Quina eat.

And should I put the oglop I found on the trail into the pot?

NO.

Eiko stands in front of the oven singing a little cooking song and doing the Cooking Dance. I approve. She's cute and slimy, but she dances.

The Littlest Moogle shouts that it's got a fish--and it's a big one! Help! Help! Eiko dashes down to help it, and together they pull up... Quina, who bounces onto the landing and says, "Your bait not taste good."

................

Eiko gives Quina the once-over. "Pale hair, pale skin, strange clothes... Zidane told me about you! You're Kuja!"

By the time I climbed back onto my chair, that little misunderstanding had been glossed over, and Quina was offering to help Eiko to cook.

Oh, right! Quina has actual skills! "It is my life's goal to master the art of gourmand!" Eiko is thrilled, and Quina checks on the stew. "You've made enough for 11. That's a good number." (I beam. Quina approves of me!) "You should always make more food than you think you'll need. Maybe someone will drop by suddenly, or maybe--" And Quina's off on a lesson in How to Plan Meals. My jaw drops. Someone has found a way to insert Life Skills for Hopeless Otaku into a fantasy game.

Eventually, the food is done, and everyone gathers around the table. Zidane takes an attack stance and cries, "Let's eat!" I expect to see the combat zoop and find myself in six-on-one combat with a huge blackened fish and a pot of fat-squirting yellow stew. But no, everyone sits down and has a civilized, non-poisoned meal.

Eerie.

Eiko lays a little of her first-grader mojo on Zidane. "Don't you think I'm just like a tragic maiden in distress?" And then she quotes him a little Lord Avon. (He's like Shakespeare, only even worse.) The Lord Avon looks like it might work, if only because Zidane is going to choke on his fish and Eiko's going to have to Heimlich him romantically. But no, Garnet pipes up with, "Isn't that from such and such a play?" Eiko grumps, and the meal ends in peace. But another Life Skill has been taught: Don't use corny lines in front of an audience.

Despite all the talk about making enough food for the Moogles, they are not invited to the meal. They hang out outside and "Kupo!" through the windows on cue. Maybe Eiko's learned a thing or two about the fuzzy little bastards after all.

So there it is: In the midst of a harsh, arid world, where the only thing cheaper than life is sand, the inhabitants remember some of the kinder elements of life that their pampered Mist Continent cousins forgot.