It'd been nearly two years since I'd been in her cooking shop - lotta miles, lotta scars, lotta haircuts in that time, but she recognized me right away.
"Ah-hahahaha! Ratshag! How you doin', mon?"
"Can't complain, Zamja. How's the cookin' business treatin' ya?"
"Same ol', same ol', mon. But look at you! I remember some scrawny little orc-chile who couldn't handle the spices, and now? Outland Gourmet, Northrend Gourmet... Hail to the Chef, mon."
"Well, thankee, hon. Oh, and Awilo Lon'gomba sez fer ta send his regards."
"That ol' hash slinger. Mon, I surprised he ain't got half of Dalaran down with the ptomaines! Ah-hahahaha!"We spent us some time then, catching up and all. She showed me some of her new experimental Dig Rat Kabobs, and I told her about learning ta bake Vrykul Waffles out in the wilderness. Afters, we went up stairs fer a little private lesson of Zamja Trollop à la Ratters. Were a nice way fer ta celebrate me new title.