Gulab jamun is a dessert that is easy to make, but difficult to master. The ingredients can be hard to find, even in a multicultural city like Canterlot, and the final product can turn out boring without a chef’s personal touch. But, when made with a master baker’s touch, gulab is a fragrant sweet that can get a pony hooked on its flavour and cause them to scarf the treats down by the dozen.
The gulab jamuns before Saffron Masala, were the same ones her family had made for generations. Perfectly round dough balls of savoury goodness rolled in pistachios, coconut, and almonds with rose petals scattered about the plate. It was a recipe that was as familiar to Saffron as breathing, a dessert she had made countless times over the years and one she knew could satisfy any pony willing to try them.
But it could only satisfy when a pony wanted to be satisfied.
Saffron flopped her head down on the prep table before her, causing a cloud of flour to puff off the table. She fought back tears as she took in the warm chocolate-coloured walls and cluttered counters of the kitchen. A kitchen her family had owned for decades and were due to lose that night.
Normally, she could never conceive of such a thing. Normally, she would have faith in her family’s ability. Normally, she would trust their food to speak on their behalf. But, in this case, there was nothing to be done.
Zesty Gourmand was a young upstart critic riding on the reputation of her family line, an ancestry of critics going back centuries. She had the ear of both the nobility and the common pony, able to determine the fate of any restaurant in Canterlot by reputation alone.
And she didn’t like foreigners. At all.
She had started with Golden Isles a block down the street. They had served udon noodle soup to a dedicated crowd for years, but one bad review from Zesty and they had shuttered in three months due to a lack of customers. Then it was the Gander Pub, then the Sakura Taste, then the Mediterranean Horizon. Restaurant after restaurant along Restaurant Row was closed until only the Tasty Treat remained. The sole survivor amongst the wreckage. A fact only made worse by the newcomers that followed.
The first entrant was the Exquisite Gourmand. Bland food and stale atmosphere with subpar staff, but had garnered a perfect score from Zesty on its opening night. Then the Love at Dusk opened next to it in the empty shell of Golden Isles and had the same subpar experience, but a perfect score from Zesty.
So it continued until the majority of the row was replaced by the same drab, cookie-cutter restaurant, the vibrant colours of the row slowly draining out of the block one closure at a time.
And this had been the goal.
The owner of the Sakura Taste, a longtime friend of the family, had told Saffron the truth. That Zesty wanted to remove the foreigners from Restaurant Row and replace them with the local Canterlot elite. It meant that no matter how good the food was, or how hard they tried, it was impossible for her family to succeed, for Zesty had no intention of playing fair.
Picking herself off the table, Saffron wiped away the tears in the corners of her eyes with a hoof and turned to look at the hanging clock on the far side of the room. Zesty was due to arrive soon and then her family’s heritage would be lost. It was a bitter realization that tied her stomach into angry knots.
“Is this really how it all ends?” Saffron called out to the empty room. “Can we really not change our fate?”
“Personally, I never was a fan of leaving my destiny to some intangible force,” a voice answered back. “I much prefer it to be held within my own hooves.”
Startled, Saffron whipped her head towards the source of the voice and stumbled backwards onto the floor in surprise.
The owner of the voice was a dark alicorn that took up the entirety of the room by mere presence alone. Sheer power radiated off of her in waves that made Saffron feel feeble before her. She was the personification of shadows, all sharp edges wrapped within a dark mist glittering with stars. The visitor regarded Saffron with a pair of piercing slit eyes conveying mild bemusement.
“It’s so claustrophobic, being beheld to an unknown force that cares nothing for your own wellbeing,” the fearsome entity continued. She smirked. “Oh come now, off the floor with you.” (Saffron felt herself lifted gently onto her hooves with the being’s magic). “We don’t have much time left before that food critic arrives and we’ll need to ensure everything is set up so she’s properly punished.”
Jerking her head up sharply, Saffron asked, “Punished?”
“Yes indeed, my aspiring ne’er-do-well.” The entity chuckled darkly. “I have a trick prepared to deal with Zesty and you’re just the pony to help me accomplish it.”
“What’s the trick?”
“A most delicious surprise.” The entity licked their sharp teeth with a serpentine tongue, a glint of mischief in their eyes.
“Really?” Saffron asked, a tinge of hope in her voice. “Wait, no! Who are you? How can I trust you to only punish Zesty and not my family as well?”
“I'd be offended by such accusations if it wasn’t because you are right. How could someone trust me without even knowing my name?” The entity bowed low, extending a wing graciously towards Saffron. “You may call me Nightmare Moon.” She lifted her head once more, a sharp grin on her face. “I also accept simply Moon.”
“Well, I suppose that answers part of my question… Moon, but I still can’t quite trust you.” Saffron glared at Moon mustering what courage she could to confront the powerful alicorn. “Why would you help me? What do you get from this?”
“Variety.” (Saffron tilted her head to one side in confusion). “Oh please, Saffron, you aren’t a fool. You know what I refer to.”
“I’m sorry, but I truly don’t follow,” Saffron answered.
“Were you not just bemoaning the fate of your restaurant? Do you not know of Zesty’s plan?” Moon stepped forward, circling around Saffron with narrowed eyes. “I dislike the bland replacements just as much as you.”
“So, it’s true?” Saffron asked, comprehension finally dawning on her as she tracked Moon’s movements. “Zesty is trying to remove all the foreigners from Restaurant Row?”
“Yes, and we, and by that mostly you, will make it so she fails,” Moon stated briskly. “I have no interest in seeing the history of this place squashed by a tasteless critic for such vulgar reasons.”
Saffron scrunched up her face indecisively. “This offer seems too good to be true.”
“And?” Moon said, an eyebrow raised in question. “Without my assistance, Zesty will fail you and you will lose the restaurant. What more do you have to lose?”
“My life,” Saffron answered. “My family, my skills, a lot actually!”
Releasing a sharp bark of laughter, Moon replied, “You’re certainly smarter than the average pony if you can recognize what’s at stake.” She trotted away from Saffron, then turned around to face her, an easy grin on her face. “I promise on my very life, that there is no catch, nor ulterior motive. No harm shall be brought upon you or your family, only Zesty.”
Despite her assurances, Saffron still found herself hesitant to agree. Rarely does such good fortune appear without consequence, and Saffron was leery of what those might be. But, she had no other option if she was to save her family’s restaurant. The reality was that there was nothing Saffron could do on her own to stop Zesty.
She needed Moon’s help.
Saffron proffered her hoof towards Moon. “Okay, you have a deal.”
Moon shook the offered hoof, a wide sharp-toothed grin stretching her face. “Excellent.” She took back her hoof and stepped toward the gulab, gesturing to it with an open wing. “Our next step is to spice up this dessert with some sauce.”
“What do you propose?” Saffron asked as she followed after Moon.
“A simple alchemical concoction to destroy Zesty’s career. It will require some ingredients and a bit of magic. I shall provide the latter.” Moon disappeared in a puff of smoke and reappeared by the pantry. (Saffron yelped at the sudden action). “You shall provide the former. Fetch some coriander, oregano, garlic, and clove.”
“What exactly are you?” Saffron said as she went to grab the noted ingredients, warily eyeing Moon as she did.
“A benefactor and bane against ill intention. For your purposes, that is all you need to know. Now, you will need to grind them together. I’m sure you have a mortar and pestle somewhere in here?”
Reaching underneath the main preparation table, Saffron pulled out a mortar and pestle, setting it gently onto the table. “Portions?” Saffron asked.
“Two parts each, with an extra pinch of coriander,” Moon replied.
Dumping the requisite amounts with a skilled hood into the bowl, Saffron grabbed the pestle with a hoof and blended them together, filling the room with the fragrance of ground spice. “Next?”
“Light the stove, and dump a hoofful of basil into the flame.” (Saffron did as asked, causing a green flame to burst from the stovetop). “Fry the spices together until they are burnt. Add sugar periodically.”
“When does the magic get added?” Saffron questioned as she began to cook the spices, sprinkling sugar at regular intervals.
“I’ve been doing so the entire time.” (Saffron looked at Moon in disbelief). “It’s subtle magic and I’m skilled at disguising when I cast. I just need you to trust that it’s working.”
Feeling wary of Moon’s claims, Saffron returned to her task. Soon the spices blackened and emitted an acrid scent. Though clearly burnt, they appeared to have a shiny sheen to them that made them look like glittering coals in the pan.
“May I presume you do not have morning dew on hoof?” Moon inquired.
“I do not,” Saffron answered.
“Unfortunate, but thankfully I carry my own.” Seemingly from nothing, Moon conjured a tall bottle of sparkling clear liquid. She drizzled the dew onto the kernels in the pan causing the mixture to congeal into a thin sludge that sparkled in a myriad of colours.
“It’s…” Saffron struggled to form the words to describe her unease at the concoction, “... unnerving.”
Moon cackled. “A fair enough observation. Pour it over the gulab.”
Doing as instructed, Saffron grabbed the pan in her magic and poured the sparkling sludge over the dessert. A sickly sweet aroma started to waft from the gulab as it took on an otherworldly sheen.
“And this will stop Zesty from taking our restaurant?” Saffron asked.
“It will do more than that,” Moon said through her wide grin. “One bite and you’ll ruin any credibility she has.”
The Tasty treat was a cozy place. Bright warm colours patterned with bold abstract shapes served to make every customer feel welcome. The perfect atmosphere to enjoy a comforting meal.
Zesty’s presence made everything feel cold.
She trotted through the front entrance with her nose held up high, an entourage of high-class ponies training behind her pushed up against each other so close they gave off the illusion of being a single writhing mass. Like Nightmare Moon, Zesty was all sharp angles, but whereas Moon came off as intimidating, Zesty came off as snooty, too good for her hooves to grace the well-worn carpet of their restaurant.
Coriander, Saffron’s father, stood next to her, desperately containing his nervous energy. His features were tightened, so unlike his usual jovial expression.
The gulab laid before them on a long table, its otherworldly syrup shimmering in the glow of the overhead lights. Already apprehension flooded Saffron, a sense of failure building up inside of her.
Zesty strutted towards the dessert, appraising the restaurant as she went. As they fell onto the gulab, they narrowed in mild distaste, her gaze already communicating that she thought the food unfit for consumption.
“And what—” Zesty scrunched up her nose “—is this garish thing?”
A pattering of malicious giggles followed the statement from the mass behind her.
“Oh!” Coriander exclaimed. “We’re getting right into it?” His foreleg began to shake as his nervousness bubbled to the surface. “I-I had thought that—”
“I don’t care what you thought,” Zesty declared. “Answer my question. What. Is. This?”
“Gulab jamun,” Saffron provided. (Zesty twisted her features into a grimace at the words). “A traditional dessert from our homeland.”
Lifting a nearby fork up with her magic, Zesty cut off a piece of the gulab and brought it to her mouth. She sniffed it lightly, before eating the morsel.
She spat the food back onto the plate.
“Ugh, disgusting,” Zesty said. “Who would ever want a spicy dessert?”
Saffron’s heart dropped as Zesty’s entourage tittered at the proclamation, malicious grins spread on their faces.
“Such horrid food, I wish to commiserate.” Zesty turned to the crowd and gestured to a random stallion amongst the throng. “Come, taste this. It’s positively terrible.”
The stallion strutted up to the table, making a big show of taking up another piece of the gulab in his magic. He bit into it. He chewed on the food before swallowing then looked at the gulab quizzically with a pronounced frown on his face.
“Isn’t it simply dreadful?” Zesty asked.
“It’s sweet,” the stallion answered, confused.
“What?!” Zesty shouted. “It is not. I assure you that this guam or whatever it’s called is spicy.”
The stallion took another bite before shaking his head. “No, it’s sweet.”
“That is prosperous!” Zesty exclaimed, stomping her hoof on the floor.
A curious pony from the crowd approached the table and took a bite for themselves. “No, he’s right. This dessert is sweet.”
“Are your taste buds as dead as his?!” Zesty retorted.
“I’m sure they are perfectly fine, but I begin to wonder if your tastes aren’t out of touch,” the stallion said.
Mutterings coursed through the group, a chorus of dissent.
Zesty took a step back, aghast. “How dare you!” She whipped her head towards the crowd. “My taste buds are perfect and I assure you these two imbeciles are wrong. The dessert is spicy.”
A third pony left the crowd and took a bite from the gulab. They shook their head. “No, you are the one who is wrong Zesty.” The pony turned to look at her alongside the other two, eyes boring into her. “I wonder, perhaps, if this is not the first time you have been wrong.”
Stiffening in place, Zesty growled, “What are you implying? That my critique is flawed?!” She whipped her head sharply through the air towards the mass, a wild look in her eyes. “My impressions are perfect! I am always right! I have never once led any of you astray!”
“Unless it's a sweet dessert,” a pony muttered, causing a smattering of giggles to wave through the herd.
“Who dared say that?!” Zesty yelled. “Speak away from your compatriots, you coward!”
A pony stepped forward. They trotted to the gulab and took another bite of the dessert. They too shook their head. “As the fourth pony to concur that this dessert is sweet, it seems to be that we should question if you truly live up to the pedigree of your line.” The pony alongside the others trotted back into the crowd, calling back, “we shall find another to trust the opinion of.”
As one, the organism made its way out of the restaurant leaving a stunned Zesty behind. After a moment, she snapped out of her daze and glared at Saffron in utter fury before racing out the door.
Dumbfounded, Coriander said, “I suppose that went… well?”
Allowing a small smile to grace her lips, Saffron replied, “Yes, it did.”
Clean-up always followed after a big meal, and it stood to reason that Saffron would be responsible for the mess she made. Despite her father’s insistence to take the night off, Saffron assured her father that she could handle it. With Coriander gone, Saffron started washing the dishes.
As she put the last dish into the drying rack, she called out to the room, “are you still there, Moon?”
Saffron turned to face the room and watched as the shadows elongated across the tiled floors. They grew up, coalescing into the shape of Nightmare Moon who regarded her with a familiar sharp-toothed grin.
“What do you require?” Moon asked. “Surely, your labour is complete.”
“Zesty will never work again?” Saffron asked.
“She will not,” Moon replied. “Her credibility is ruined and, without it, she will never critique again for who could trust the opinion of a gourmand with inferior taste buds?” She chuckled. “With Zesty gone, the Row will recover, but surely that is not the only thing you wished to know?”
“I want to know what you gain from this.”
“I have already told you—”
“You’ve told me the bare minimum needed to gain my trust,” Saffron interjected. “I just can’t believe that you have nothing to gain from this situation besides goodwill.”
Moon tilted her head to one side, eyeing her with what Saffron thought might have been respect. “You wish to know the truth?” (Saffron nodded her head). “Very well.
“In the near future, Zesty will become desperate and seek my assistance. I will offer it, and, once my end of the bargain is fulfilled, I will drag her to Tartarus to stay with the others who wish ruin upon Equestria.”
“That seems rather harsh,” Saffron said, her face scrunched up in distaste.
“I have done this for a long time, young one,” Moon replied. “There are patterns that ponies of their ilk tend to follow and this one especially seems stuck to the same paths as those before her. She sought to weaken our country’s unity for something as pathetic as only wanting to be surrounded by those exactly like her. I assure you that she has learned nothing from this and will seek new avenues to hurt others. I simply decided to curb the destruction early.”
Saffron mulled over Moon’s response before nodding her head. She looked into Moon’s eyes, steeling her nerves before asking, “Do you need help?”
Moon’s face stretched as her grin took on a razor-sharp edge. “Are you offering to assist me?”
“Zesty can’t be the only one ruining others’ lives. If I can do something to help…” Saffron set her face in determination, “I want to do it.”
“There’s no going back once you agree to this,” Moon explained. “You’ll be bound to me until I deem your services complete.”
“I don’t want anyone to be as helpless as I was before,” Saffron declared. “I agree to help you.”
“Excellent. I had hoped you would offer yourself. You and I will accomplish a great many things together.
“Welcome to the Night Guard, Saffron.”
