[ The old broth is the only think he can think of that would be souring the whole thing. ]

I could attempt to cleanse the fish you have left, [ he's grasping at straws here, oof, ] but I don't think it would do much if they are already dead.

[ He looks from the cursed concoction to its creator, now a little more amused that such a foul mixture was spawned from such (apparently) genuinely good intentions. That is ultimately what makes the decision for him to step back enough to offer an apologetic bow. ]

Forgive me, I didn't come here to insult you. Your efforts to feed the populace are kind.