The chef, an older man wearing a sprig of flowers in a mesh bag as a holy symbol, thanks him and asks if he takes requests, and then shows him the menu for the rest of the week and points out where they've had to cut corners, mostly on various types of fruit and nuts that are hard to come by out of season but there's a dessert in three days that he'd love to swap out for a different one if he can get the spices for it.
The market between Lasti's and Pelor's temples is a few blocks away, through residential streets where they pass children playing ball and adults enjoying the afternoon sun while they chat and work on various chores and handcrafts and onto a larger thoroughfare, wide enough for two wagons to pass each other but currently only seeing foot traffic. Another block, and they come to the market itself, a few blocks of paved space between this street and the next left open to be filled with carts and open-sided tents where merchants show off their wares - mostly but not exclusively food, dozens of kinds of produce, many familiar - potatoes, corn, wheat, oats, squashes and beans and lettuces and apples that wouldn't look out of place in a Revelation grocery store - but some less so, from bundles of red and purple carrots, peas with variegated orange and yellow speckling, and small bluish eggplants to things that can at best be guessed to be some sort of root vegetable or tree-grown fruit, with stands selling spices, prepared foods, housewares, and other common goods scattered through the area. Livestock is in its own section, at one end of the market, a similar mix of familiar and unfamiliar animals in pens and crates with a cluster of butchers' shops just across the street behind them.
Cam's wings draw a few curious looks, but no particular attention past that. His camera gets a little more scrutiny; it doesn't take long for one of the vendors to ask what he's doing with it.