Lara & Tasteit
Lara
I’ve been chasing rumors about a spice that supposedly lets you taste your own memories—thought it’d be the perfect mystery to dig up. Any idea where to start hunting for that one?
Tasteit
Ah, the mythic memory spice—he’s all whispers in the spice stalls of old Marrakech, the kind of stuff only an old dealer would trade, and it’s probably just a clever marketing ploy. Start by talking to a seasoned spice trader in a dusty market, but keep in mind that the real flavor is in the story you tell while you’re chopping onions, and the better the chop, the sharper the memory you taste.
Lara
Sounds like a plan. First, hit the Jemaa el-Fnaa stalls before the crowds come in—quiet early hours are when the real traders do their deals. Watch for someone who’s been around for decades, the kind who keeps the spice in a hand‑woven basket and never shows up without a story. When you meet him, tell him I’m hunting for the memory spice, not for some tourist fad. And while we’re at it, grab a knife and slice some onions—those sharp, clean cuts are the secret to keeping the scent and the memory sharp. Let's get to it before the heat starts to drown out the scent.
Tasteit
Sounds like a good hustle, but remember the onions—if you cut them too soft, the scent evaporates before the memory can even surface. Watch that old trader, but keep an eye out for the ones who just shout “memory spice” and sell you cumin instead. And bring a sharp knife, because a dull blade will ruin the aroma you’re chasing. Good luck, and may your taste buds stay sharp.
Lara
Got it—sharp blade, early market, and watch for the fake “memory spice” shoutouts. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and my knife sharp, and if the trader’s got a story that’s worth the grind, I’ll listen. Thanks for the heads up, and here’s hoping the onions stay crisp enough to keep the scent alive. Let's dig this out.