"Make me tea, I said. Lifting her skirt the girl went to the tent, to make tea.....

.....measuring the tea, from a tiny box.... Is it ready? I asked. I looked at the tiny copper kettle on the small stand. A tiny kaiila-dung fire burned under it. A small, heavy, curved glass was nearby, on a flat box, which would home some two ounces of tea. Bazi tea is drunk in tiny glasses, usually three at a time, carefully measured. She did not make herself tea, of course.

.....She lifted the kettle from the fire and, carefully, poured me a tiny glass of tea. I took the glass....."

BLACK WINE SERVE ~ Tribesman, pp. 88-89

"Ibn Saran, not taking his eyes from Alyena, lifted his finger. From one side a slave girl, barefoot, bangle, in sashed diaphanous, trousered chalware, gathered at the ankles, in tight red silk vest, with bare midriff, fled to him, with the tall, graceful, silvered pot containing the black wine. She was veiled. She knelt, replenishing the drink. Beneath her veil I saw the metal of her collar.

I had not thought to have such fortune. She did not look at me. She returned to her place with the pot of black wine.

Ibn Saran lifted another finger. From the side there hastened to him another girl, a fair-skinned, red-haired girl. She, too, wore veil, vest, chalwar, bangles, collar. She carried a tray, on which were various spoons and sugars. She knelt, placing her tray on the table. With a tiny spoon, its tip no more than a tenth of a hort in diameter, she placed four measures of white sugar, and six of yellow, in the cup; with two stirring spoons, one for the white sugar, another for the yellow, she stirred the beverage after each measure. She then held the cup to the side of her cheek, testing its temperature; Ibn Saran glanced at her; she, looking at him, timidly kissed the side of the cup and placed it before him. Then, her head down, she withdrew."
 

KA-LA-NA SERVE, Captive of Gor, page 331- 332

"Serve me wine, he said. I turned and, among the furnishings of the tent, found a bottle of Ka-la-na, of good vintage, from the vineyards of Ar, the lot of a caravan raid. I then took the wine, with a small copper bowl, and a black, red-trimmed crater, to the side of the fire. I poured some of the wine into the small copper bowl, and set it on the tripod over the tiny fire in the fire bowl. He sat cross-legged, facing me, and I knelt by the fire, facing him. After a time I took the copper bowl from the fire and held it against my cheek. I returned it again to the tripod, and again we waited. I began to tremble. Do not be afraid Slave, he said to me. Master! I pleaded. I did not give you permission to speak, he said. I was silent. Again I took the bowl from the fire. It was now not comfortable to hold the bowl, but it was not painful to do so. I poured the wine from the small copper bowl into the black, red-trimmed wine crater, placing the small bowl in a rack to one side of the fire. I swirled, slowly, the wine in the wine crater. I saw my reflection in the redness, the blondness of my hair, dark in the wine, and the collar, with its bells, about my throat. I now, in the fashion of the slave girl of Treve, held the wine crater against my right cheek. I could feel the warmth of the wine through the side of the crater. Is it ready, he asked. A master of Treve does not care to be told that his girl thinks it is. He wishes to be told Yes, or No. Yes, I whispered. I did not know how he cared for his wine, for some men of Treve wish it warm, others almost hot. I did not know how he wished it. What if it were not as he wished it! Serve me wine, he said. I, carrying the wine crater, rose to my feet and approached him, with a rustle of slave bells, in the position of the pleasure slave. I put my head down and, with both hands, extending my arms to him, held forth the wine crater. 'I offer you wine, Master,' I said. He took the wine, and I watched in terror. He sipped it and smiled. I nearly fainted. I would not be beaten."
 

KAL'DA SERVE, Outlaw of Gor, PAGES 76-77

"Kal'da is a hot drink, almost scalding, made of diluted Ka-la-na wine, mixed with citrus juices and stinging spices. I did not care much for this mouth-burning concoction, but it was popular with some of the lower castes, particularly those who performed strenuous manual labor. I expected its popularity was due more to its capacity to warm a man and stick to his ribs, and to its cheapens (a poor grade of Ka-la-na wine being used in its brewing) than to any gustatory excellence. But I reasoned on this of all nights, this cold, depressing wet night, a cup of Kal'da might go well indeed. Moreover, where there was Kal'da there should be bread and meat. I thought of the yellow Gorean bread, baked in the shape of a round, flat loaves, fresh and hot; my mouth watered for a tabuk steak or, perhaps, if I were lucky, a slice of roast tarsk, the formidable six-tusked wild boar of Gor's temperate forests. I smiled to myself, felt the sack of coins in my tunic, bent down and pushed the door open.

You are of high caste, of the Caste of Warriors, said the proprietor. It is not proper that you should remain here.

".....I took a coin from the leather sack and threw it to the proprietor. He snatched it expertly from the air like a skeptical cormorant. He examined the coin. It was a silver tarn disk. He bit against the metal, the muscles on his jaw bulging in the lamplight. A trace of avaricious pleasure appeared in his eyes. I knew he would not care to return it. What caste is it? I demanded. The proprietor smiled. Money has no caste, he said. Bring me food and drink, I said."

"I had hardly settled myself behind the table when the proprietor had placed a large, fat pot of steaming Kal'da before me. It almost burned my hands to lift the pot. I took a long, burning swig of the brew and though, on another occasion, I might have thought it foul, tonight it sang through my body like the bubbling fire it was, a sizzling brutal irritant that tasted so bad and yet charmed me so much I had to laugh"

PAGA SERVE (Port Kar) ~ Raiders, pages 100-101

"I watched the dancing girl of Port Kar, writhing on the square of sand between the tables, under the whips of Masters, in a Paga tavern of Port Kar. Your paga, said the nude slave girl, who served me, her wrists chained. It is warmed as you wished. I took it from her, not even glancing upon her, and drained the goblet. She knelt beside the low table, at which I sat cross-legged. More, I said, handing her back the goblet, again not deigning to even glance upon her. Yes, Master, she said, rising, taking the goblet. I liked paga warm. One felt it so much sooner."
 

"She is help to prepare the feat? asked Gunnhild. And serve it, said the Forkbeard. I see, then, the nature of her duties, said Gunnhild, smiling. Yes, said Ivar Forkbeard. He regarded Hilda. You will beg Gunnhild to set you about the duties of a bond-maid. Yes, said she, Ivar Forkbeard. Hurry now, laughed he. Weeping, clutching her clothing, she ran to the hall. The men and bond-maids laughed muchly. I, too, roared with laughter. Hilda the Haughty, daughter of Thorgard of Scagnar, had been taught to obey.

The shrieking of Pouting Lips, as she yielded to Gorm, supine, kicking in the furs, rang through the low, smoking hall. I thrust Thyri from my lap, and seized Olga by the wrist, a she hurried past, throwing her across my knees. She, laughing was fleeing Ottar who, drunkenly, was stumbling after her. I pulled Olga's face to mine and our lips met, I forcing my kiss to her teeth. Her naked Body, collared, suddenly responded to mine, and she reached for me with her hands. My Jarl! she whispered. But I thrust her up, holding her by the arms, into the hands of Ottar, who, laughing, threw her lightly over his shoulder and turned about. I saw her head and shoulders, and her body, to the waist over his shoulder, her small fists pounding meaninglessly on his back. He carried her into the darkness and threw her to the furs. My Jarl, whimpered Thyri, crouching beside me, touching me. With a laugh, she crying out with pleasure, I took again the young lady of Kassau, the bond-maid, Thyri, in my arms.

Pretty Ankles hurried past, carrying a great trencher of roast meat on her small shoulder. Mead! called Ivar Forkbeard, from across from me. Mead! he held out the great, curved horn, with its rim of filigreed gold. Pudding and Gunnhild knelt on the bench, snuggling against him, one on either side. But they did not run to fetch his mead. That duty, this night, befell another. Hilda, the Haughty, daughter of Thorgard of Scagnar, as stripped as any bond-maid, from a large bronze vessel, poured mead for the Forkbeard. The men laughed. She, though free, poured mead as a bond-maid. The hall roared with pleasure. Might insult had thus been wrought upon Thorgard of Scagnar, enemy of Ivar Forkbeard. His daughter, stripped, poured mead in the hall of his enemies."
 

A Turian Banquet ~ Nomads of Gor, pages 83-84

"There was little doubt that I, in the worn, red tunic of a warrior, and Kamchak, in the black leather of the Tuchuks, seemed somewhat out of place at the banquet of Saphrar, merchant of Turia. It is spiced brain of the Torian vulo, Saphrar was explaining.

I shot the spiced vulo brain into my mouth on the tip of a golden eating prong, a utensil, as far as I knew, unique to Turia. I took a large swallow of fierce Paga, washing it down rapidly as possible. I did not care much for the sweet, syrupy wines of Turia, flavored and sugared to the point where one could almost leave one's fingerprint on their surface.

Now this, Saphrar the merchant was telling me, is the braised liver of the blue, four-spined Cosian wingfish.

This fish is a tiny, delicate fish, blue, about the size of a tarn disk when curled in one's hand; it has three or four slender spines in its dorsal fin, which are poisonous; it is capable of hurling itself from the water and, for brief distances, on its stiff pectoral fins, gliding through the air, usually to evade the smaller sea-tharlarions, which seem to be immune to the poison of the spines. This fish is also sometimes referred to as the songfish because, as a portion of its courtship rituals, the males and females thrust their heads from the water and utter a sort of whistling sound.

The blue, four-spined wingfish is found only in the waters of Cos. Larger varieties are found farther out to sea. The small blue fish is regarded as a great delicacy, and its liver as the delicacy of delicacies.

I tried the liver of the wingfish. Then another swig of Paga. Saphrar winced. Perhaps, he suggested, you would like a piece of roasted bosk meat? ...Yes, I said, I think so.

Saphrar conveyed my wishes to the scandalized Feast Steward, and he, with a glare in my direction, sent two young slaves scampering off to scour the kitchens of Turia for a slice of bosk meat.

I wondered how the stomach of Kamchak could sustain the delightful injuries he was heaping into it with such gusto. To be sure, it had not. The Turian feast usually consumes the better part of a night and can have as many as a hundred and fifty courses. This would be impractical, naturally, save for the detestable device of the golden bowl and tufted banquet stick, dipped in scented oils, by means of which the diner may, when he wishes, refresh himself and return with eagerness to the feast. I had not made use of this particular tool, and had contented myself with merely taking a bite or two, to satisfy the requirements of etiquette, from each course."
 

A MEAL SERVED ~ Raiders, page 114

"That night the girls in our arms, we feasted, lifting many cups of paga. **** Clitus too had brought two bottles of Ka-la-na wine, a string of eels, cheese of the Verr, and a sack of red olives from the groves of Tyros. We greeted him with cheers. Telima had prepared the roast tarsk, stuffed with suls and peppers from Tor. There were great quantities of the yellow Sa'Tarna bread, in its rounded, six-part loaves. We were served by the Kettle Slave, Telima. She poured paga for the men, and Ka-la-na for the women. She tore the bread for us, broke the cheese, ribboned the eels and cut the tarsk. She hurried from one to the other, and the musicians as well, scarcely serving one before being summoned to another. The girls commanded her as well as the men. She was only Kettle Slave and thus, they were a higher sort than she. Further, I gathered, on the islands, Telima, with her beauty, her skills and arrogance, had not been popular, and it pleased them no little that she should be, in effect, slave for them as well as their masters."

BREAKFAST SERVED ~ Assassin, page 106

"A girl slave, in a white tunic and white collar, barefoot, came to the table, and knelt before it. What is that I smell? I asked. Black wine, she said, from the Mountains of Thentis. I had heard of black wine, but had never had any. It is drunk in Thentis, but I had never heard of it being much drunk in any of the other cities. Bring two bowls, I said. Two?, asked the girl. The slave, I said, indicating Elizabeth, will taste it first. Of course Master, said the girl. And put bread over the fire, I said, and honey, and the eggs of vulos, and fried tarsk meat and a Torian larma fruit. The girl nodded and rising, gracefully, backing away a step or two, head down, turned and went to the kitchen. I have heard, I said to Elizabeth, that black wine is served hot. Incredible, she smiled. In short order two bowls, steam curling out of them, were brought and placed on the table. I sat there staring down at them, and Elizabeth did, too. Then I picked up one of the thick heavy claw bowls. Since no one was looking, we knocked the bowls together gently, and put them to our lips. It was extremely strong, and bitter, but it was hot, and unmistakably, it was coffee. I shared the breakfast with Elizabeth, who informed me that it was better than the porridge below in the trough in the feeding room for female staff slaves, marvelous though the latter might have been.. I envy you free ones, said Elizabeth (she was an earth barbarian). Next time, you be the slave and let me be the Assassin. Actually, I said to Elizabeth, this is very rare. Thentis does not trade the beans for black wine. I have heard of a cup of black wine in Ar, some years ago, selling for a silver eighty-piece. Even in Thentis black wine is used commonly only in High Caste homes. Perhaps it is from Earth? she asked. Originally doubtless beans were brought from Earth, I said, much as certain other seeds, and silk worms and such, but I doubt very much that the ship I saw last night had in its cargo anything as trivial as the beans for black wine."

A TORIAN CAFE MEAL ~ Tribesmen, pages 47-48

"The dancers in the cafes were splendid. In two of the cafes I paid a use-coin to the floor master and, by the hair, conducted she who had pleased me most to an alcove.

I had returned late to the compartment. Miss Blake-Allen, head to the floor, knelt when I entered. In the cafes I had feasted well. I had had verr meat, cut in chunks and threaded on a metal rod, with slices of peppers and larma, and roasted; vulo stew with raisins, nuts, onions and honey; a kort with melted cheese and nutmeg; hot Bazi tea sugared and later, Turian wine. I did not forget the slave, of course. Crusts of bread did I throw to the boards before her. It was slave bread, rough and coarse-grained. The beauty ate it eagerly."