Here be dragons

It's the night, in a place full of small, long wood and paper houses, with dirt paths around them. The place is lit by paper lanterns hanging in trees. I'm following a young girl with long, flowing dark hairs. She's transporting a big barrel of sake, with a thick rituel cord warped around it. She's running from a whole sled of chinese and japanese spirits, I can see their shadows on the walls of the houses, pointy headed foxes, jumping parasol, dancing lantern, witches and ogres. She managed to reach a hole in the ground and throw the barrel in.
We're taken to a gigantic house, the woman in charge give us a room to clean. I open the door, it's dark inside, and the smell is horrible, decaying things in a dark, warm place, closed up for years. I gag and put a tissue on my mouth and nose, it's disgusting, but at least it's a dry rot, things turning to dust rather that slime. The girl with me starts filling garbage bin, but I notice another girl, in the room next door, strugling with a younger sibling. My fellow tells me that the younger sibling is mentaly deficient, and that's why they're struggling. I go back to cleaning, but she almost finished it. I pickup something from the previous occupant and unwarp it. It's a wooden sign, with "academy of cooking and baking, 1887" engraved on it. There's also a name, and I deduce that he was the previous candidate; this all thing is a sort of competition. I walk out of our room to another, and I meet up with this man, a chef. He's helping someone whip up a desert, and hand me a place. It's ice cream, with a syrup on it. The syrup is warm, dark chocolat with the faintest hint of coffee. I can't really pinpoint what the ice cream is. It's both sweet and savory, slighly nutty but more well rounded, in a crème anglaise base. It's delicious, the texture is wonderfull, rich without being cloying and creamy without feeling greasy.

This is a jumbled mess, thanks to insomnia keeping me up until 5 am. I felt like all my sleep was REM. Second dream to follow!

Dreamlet: I'm in the kitchen, the hod is on and I'm cooking something with grounded meat and tomato sauce. It smells sweet and spicy, I'm mixing it with a wooden spoon. My mother come to eat with me, carrying two bowls. She give me one, and start spooning the meal in her. I discover that there is full, big black window spiders cooked in. My mother gleefully spoons on in her powl. She then hand me back the spoon. I take some of the meat, poking the spiders dubiously.

I may or may not have browsed baking blog before going to bed.

I'm flying in the night sky. A light catches my attention and I fall in a restaurant. It's brightly lit and there's gilded wood panels and bright red drapes on the walls. The place is full, everybody talking in low voice making a soothing background sound. I'm steered to one of the round, white linen-covered tables, to site in a red velvet chair. I'm sharing the table with Eli, who is, for once, sharply dressed. The waiter give us a plate of very thin wheat noodles with caramel pork. The noodles have a nice chew, the pork is very salty and sweet, with a glossy, sticky sauce. After that, we're served warm brioche with heavy cream and fresh strawberries. The cream and strawberries are almost cold, contrasting nicely with the soft, buttery, warm brioche. The cream is tangy, the strawberries taste like wild ones but are as big as regular strawberries. It's a delicious meal, and I enjoy the compagny.

Aaand I made myself hungry.