I decided to start with the caprese-like dish made with pome, cheese, and herbs.
I had told
...This might be a bit hard to eat. It felt like the pome would fall apart the moment I stuck a knife into it.
Carefully inserting my knife so as not to crush it, I took a bite of the pome and cheese together. The slightly sweet flavor of the pome was enhanced by the cheese's mild saltiness, and the aroma of the herbs wafted gently through my mouth.
...Oh, delicious.
The texture was better than the sliced-and-sandwiched caprese, and my eyes widened slightly. You could practically see the exploratory spirit of a chef striving to make every dish a little more delicious.
The Chief Priest took a bite as well and narrowed his eyes slightly.
"It seems tastier than what is served at the
"Perhaps the difference lies in the passion for culinary exploration. The ingredients are the same, but even slight changes in texture and mouthfeel result in a remarkably different experience. It seems that during the two years I was asleep, cooking has truly advanced. This is reassuring, should merchants from other territories come to visit."
Next, I put the roasted flower vegetables in my mouth. The surface was crisp with a slight char, but the inside was thoroughly cooked and tender. When I chewed, consommé broth spread across my palate. It felt like eating broccoli that had been dipped in soup, yet the fact that it was roasted rather than boiled created a delightful paradox.
...The Chief Priest, who loves consommé, must be pleased with this.
I stole a glance at his reaction. Though nearly expressionless as usual, I could see his eyes had softened slightly, the corners of his lips turned up ever so faintly. From that, I could tell he was savoring it deeply. The Chief Priest seemed quite taken with the dish.
"This roasted vegetable technique could be applied not only to flower vegetables but to other vegetables as well. It's almost like eating soup in the shape of a vegetable."
"This is a dish invented by our household's chef."
The Guild Master spoke up.
I recalled Ilse—the one who was passionate about culinary research and had apparently competed in a cook-off against Hugo—and looked at the Guild Master.
"Is Ilse the one doing the cooking research? I was surprised that the food has become even tastier than two years ago."
"Yes. Once she was defeated by
The Guild Master said this while glancing toward the kitchen. It seemed Ilse had been working hard for my sake.
Even without me diligently handing over recipes, new dishes were being born one after another through Hugo, Ela,
"Ilse quickly makes any new recipe her own. I have a great deal of respect for that dedicated attitude."
"She reported to me a few days ago that she had received new ingredients and recipes from Rozemyne. Unfortunately, she couldn't make it in time for today's dessert. The texture was unusual for us—and quite delicious, I thought—but as a chef, she couldn't accept it."
According to the Guild Master, a trial batch of panna cotta had been made, but for Ilse, it hadn't reached the quality she was willing to serve at today's meal.
"Rozemyne, what was that new ingredient? Ilse has been asking me to obtain more of it, but I can't even begin to imagine what it might be."
It was gelatin—made by cutting only the most transparent portion from the glue-making process, then simmering it the same way as consommé to remove impurities and scum, and straining it. When making glue, you could produce a small amount if you wanted to. With it, the range of dishes and sweets expanded enormously.
"I intend to sell the manufacturing method to Frieda next."
The shop owners around the table all looked up at once. Across from the wide-eyed Guild Master,
"You're going to sell the method to Frieda?"
"Yes. During the two years I was asleep, she has faithfully protected this Italian restaurant and helped refine the cooking even further. As a reward, I'll sell her the manufacturing method. ...It won't be free of charge, of course."
...Because it would be pointless to sell culinary rights to Benno, after all.
He was swamped with work at the Plantan Company and had to travel every year to expand the printing and papermaking industries. He barely had any bandwidth to handle the Italian restaurant either, and I'd heard he'd left it entirely in Frieda's hands.
I was also a co-investor and received a share of the profits simply for lending my name to attract customers, but honestly, after putting up the initial money and sharing the recipes, I had done nothing. As for the recipes, Frieda could make better use of them.
...Besides, I'd already made the Otmar Company prepare a huge quantity of quatre-quarts for the inter-territory competition, and I'd burdened the Guild Master with quite a few unreasonable requests as well. That should be fair, right?
I knew it wasn't ideal to hand over the manufacturing method at a low price. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to charge a proper price," I told Benno, but he lowered the corners of his lips just slightly, looking not entirely amused.
As I tilted my head, wondering what bothered him, "Rozemyne," the Chief Priest called my name quietly.
"Granting a reward to those who guarded the Italian restaurant and pursued further refinement during the years you were asleep—yes, that seems reasonable. But what about the Plantan Company, which devoted itself to expanding the printing industry? Have they received their reward as well?"
"...Ah."
Since waking up, I had hurriedly expanded various things, and under the guise of a reward, I'd taught the
However, while I had praised the Plantan Company and
...It wasn't that I lacked new product ideas—I could teach Frieda the gelatin manufacturing method, for instance.
I looked between Benno and
"I do have various stationery items I'd like to have made from paper products, and if the Plantan Company desires it, selling them rights or manufacturing methods wouldn't be a problem. However, if I were to sell new rights and product ideas, it would expand the Plantan Company's and Gutenberg's reach even further, making them even busier. Is that truly what you want?"
For a moment, Benno was at a loss for words, and Mark averted his gaze. But Benno quickly put on a merchant's smile and nodded.
"Any manufacturing methods or rights that Rozemyne is willing to provide, we will gladly accept."
No matter how busy they were, he wanted to secure every right related to printing and paper. Those reddish-brown eyes practically said, "There's no way I'd let anyone else have them, you fool."
If he wanted to take on even more work, that was his prerogative, but first came the trip to
"Then let's discuss it another day. ...Once things have settled down a bit."
"Your consideration is most appreciated."
That settled that, more or less. Then the Chief Priest looked down at me meaningfully and pulled the corners of his lips up in a grin.
"Hmm. So it seems the Plantan Company, the Gilberta Company, and the Otmar Company—those who served you during the two years you were asleep—will all receive appropriate rewards."
...Meaning you want your share too. Got it.
The Chief Priest had been a great help not only during my sleep but right up to the present day, in many different ways. He didn't need to beat around the bush like this—if he just said "I want something," I'd give it to him. But since he usually wore an expression of complete disinterest, I could never tell.
"I owe you a great deal, Lord
"Recipes from your chef. You must have quite a collection by now."
It was undeniable that the Chief Priest had helped me enormously, and considering the recovery medicine ingredients and the assistance given to Schwarz and the others, recipes alone hardly seemed like sufficient compensation. But there was absolutely no problem with giving them to the Chief Priest.
"Very well. I'll give you the recipes that Hugo knows. But since I plan to compile them into a recipe book and sell it, this has to be our secret."
"Understood."
The soup was brought to the table in front of the Chief Priest, who looked quite pleased to have gotten what he wanted.
Frieda came over to explain the dishes to me and the Chief Priest.
...Frieda has really grown up.
I hadn't realized it because our meetings had been across tables, or because the last time we'd been together was with Turi, who was already well-developed. But seeing Frieda standing right beside me now, I could tell she had matured considerably.
When we first met, she'd been smaller than average because she couldn't grow properly due to Self-Eating. But now she looked her age.
...I wish I'd grow up faster, too.
I compared my own hand resting on the table with Frieda's, which held the explanation card, and let out a soft sigh.
"Today's soup is a double consommé."
The Temple's chef was slightly less skilled compared to Hugo—still delicious, but the Chief Priest had seemed somewhat unsatisfied. By passing along intelligence that I'd received from Zaim and
"I understand that Lord Ferdinand was very fond of Hugo's consommé. The chef, burning with the desire not to be outdone by Hugo, has prepared this consommé with the utmost care. Please enjoy."
It was Ilse's finest double consommé. She had made it carefully and deliberately, determined not to lose to Hugo.
Amber-colored soup was poured into the plates. As it flowed in, a fragrance rose that made my throat tighten with anticipation, and with that scent alone, I could already taste its deliciousness spreading in my mouth. The broth was so clear I could see the bottom of the plate, without a trace of cloudiness, yet rich in color—it was obvious at a glance that it had been made with extraordinary care.
I dipped in my spoon and took a single sip. A soup in which the umami of various vegetables and meats had been concentrated and sealed flowed into my mouth.
"...Lord Ferdinand, is this consommé beautiful?"
When I asked the Chief Priest, he wore an unusually genuine, unguarded smile.
"Ah, truly beautiful. It's even more complex than the taste I remember, yet it comes together as a cohesive whole. ...Yes. If I were to draw a comparison, it would be like not merely changing the quality of the ingredients when making recovery medicine, but reexamining the entire process—something has changed at a fundamental level, beyond just the materials being used."
...I have no idea what that means.
He went on to elaborate at greater length than usual about the difficulty of that process review and the beauty of achieving success, but I couldn't understand a word of it.
...Well, it was delicious, so I suppose that's all that matters.
If the Chief Priest found it beautiful and was satisfied, then that was enough. As I was thinking this, Frieda stared at the Chief Priest with wide, astonished eyes.
"How remarkable. You're exactly right, Lord Ferdinand. Using egg whites slightly diminishes the flavor, so the chef had been desperately working on a method to remove the scum and strain the broth without them. It seemed the same to me, but those who can tell, can tell. She'll be delighted to hear this."
...Noticing such minute differences makes the Chief Priest impressive, but Ilse, who actually pulled it off, is even more incredible.
I let out a soft sigh of admiration.
Then again, the Chief Priest was amazing in that he could have such a sensitive palate and still produce medicine with absolutely no regard for taste. In that sense, too, he was astonishing.
"Next is the carbonara."
The dish that came after the soup was carbonara. The cream sauce, made rich with heavy cream and egg yolks, had a slightly yellowish tint, and crispy bits of bacon added a splash of color.
I twirled my fork, letting the excess sauce drip off. Feeling the cheese's stretch and aroma, and being careful not to let the sauce fall, I ate the piping-hot carbonara.
...This was also better than Hugo's.
I suspected consommé had been used in this as well. The umami was far more pronounced than in the recipe I had shared.
"Rozemyne, this is quite different from the recipe you taught my chef, isn't it?"
The Chief Priest, having eaten the carbonara, shot me a sharp glance. Even if he glared at me like that, I had never tasted anything like this either.
"This is the result of the chef's hard work during the two years I was asleep. She must have done extensive research beyond the initial recipe I taught her. Even I was surprised."
"...I see. I think I'd like to have this chef."
A quiet murmur, but those golden eyes were serious. Naturally, Frieda and the Guild Master both tensed at the Chief Priest's words.
"Lord Ferdinand, you mustn't use your authority and money to poach people. We need Ilse to keep this Italian restaurant thriving."
"I understand that, but I don't think it's unreasonable to feel a twinge of something when I consider that commoners are the ones enjoying this food instead of nobility."
It was Ilse's achievement, of course, but when you thought about it—the wealthy commoners who visited the Italian restaurant were eating better food than nobles. The Chief Priest probably found that a rather complicated thought.
The Guild Master and Frieda looked at me with anxious eyes, clearly worried about losing Ilse. I caught their silent plea: "Please stop him."
...I understand. I'll do my best to hold the Chief Priest back.
I nodded firmly to the two of them. I noticed Benno and
"Next is the ossobuco. It is a dish of bone-in shank of veal, slow-simmered in Wiese wine from
The rich, glossy brown meat was drizzled generously with pome sauce. The meat juices must have been seeping out, because the surface of the sauce gleamed with a lustrous sheen.
This ossobuco was made using a generous amount of Dunkelfelger wine, which rarely made it all the way to Ehrenfest. I had taught Hugo a recipe using Ehrenfest's local wines, but Ilse had apparently leveraged the Guild Master's connections to seek out wines that paired even better with the dish.
...The Otmar Company, which could invest generously in Ilse's culinary research, was impressive too.
They probably knew it would pay off in the long run, but even so, research costs were nothing to sneeze at. Ilse would be better off staying with the Guild Master and continuing to cook freely.
...In fact, if the Guild Master and his people ever let Ilse go, I'd take her myself, not the Chief Priest.
While thinking this, I pressed my cutlery against the ossobuco to carve off a piece. Without hardly any effort, the meat slid cleanly off the bone. Meat cooked until this tender was quite rare here.
"Wow."
My heart swelling with anticipation, I cut a bite-sized piece of the tender meat, coated it thoroughly in the thick pome sauce, and brought it to my mouth. The pome sauce seemed to contain finely chopped pieces of multiple vegetables, making it far sweeter and more complex than ordinary pome sauce.
The meat was so tender it practically melted in my mouth. As I hummed with pleasure, I noticed the Chief Priest watching me with an appraising, almost analytical gaze—more like he was evaluating a specimen than savoring a delicious meal. He appeared to be seriously considering poaching Ilse.
"Hey, Lord Ferdinand. My own chef isn't quite as enthusiastic about deepening flavors, but during these two years, they came up with quite a few new dishes in their own way. Your chef hasn't produced any new recipes in two years, has he?"
"...Come to think of it, nothing particularly new has come out of my kitchen."
The Chief Priest raised one eyebrow as if to say, "So what?" I shrugged slightly and took another bite of the ossobuco.
"That's your own fault, Lord Ferdinand."
"What do you mean?"
"When there's a slight difference in taste—saying 'this is better,' or 'I'd like you to use this ingredient for this flavor,' or offering small bits of feedback and setting challenges—that's what motivates chefs. You never required anything beyond the same flavors, Lord Ferdinand. Your failure to cultivate your chef properly is the reason."
Because the Chief Priest cycled through his favorite dishes heavily and checked every minute difference in taste, his chef wasn't spending any energy on making things delicious—he was instead consumed with reproducing recipes with perfect accuracy.
"...I see. So I need to train not only my blue-robe priests, but my chefs as well."
"That's what having a personal chef is all about—getting them to cook to your preferences."
As I said this and ate my ossobuco, I silently apologized profusely to the Chief Priest's chef in my heart.
...I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. You might end up with some incredibly demanding requests!
I successfully dissuaded the Chief Priest from poaching Ilse by arguing that instead of poaching someone else's chef—one they had invested time and money into training—he should cultivate his own. By the time that was settled, it was time for dessert.
Today's dessert was a shortcake made with bralore. Unlike in the past, it seemed that failures from burning had become almost nonexistent. On the soft, fine-crumbed sponge cake, pure white whipped cream was spread, and thinly sliced bralore, lightly soaked in alcohol, was arranged like the petals of a lavish flower.
...Hmm, I might want to get piping tips in all different shapes.
The fruit decoration was lovely, but having memories from my life as Urano, I found it a bit plain. It could be so much more extravagant with piped cream.
Come to think of it, I'd seen round piping tips for filling things, but I wasn't sure whether decorative tips existed.
"Maybe I should ask Hugo, and if they don't have them, have
As I munched on the cream-heavy cake, my thoughts slipped out of my mouth. Benno, whose hearing was remarkably sharp, picked up on the murmur and turned a wary eye on me.
"Rozemyne, what are you going to have them make next? Right now we're desperately trying to install pumps in as many wells as we can before merchants from other territories start arriving..."
Benno rebuked my comment, clearly signaling through his tone that enough was enough. It was true—piping tips were nowhere near as important as water pumps.
"Just have
The shop owners all perked up their heads at that. I could feel their attention, and Benno slowly shook his head.
"I think it would be best to wait until the dyeing and weaving guild's event is over. You're quite busy yourself, Rozemyne."
His eyes screamed, "Don't run wild—stop!" Thanks to Benno's intervention, I reviewed my schedule and nodded. There was no time left for anything else.
"That's true. I really don't have time for a careful selection process right now. Let's hope the Gutenbergs continue training their apprentices at this rate."
And with that, the meal at the Italian restaurant came to an end.
"Here are the chefs who prepared today's dishes."
As we were about to leave, the chefs had all lined up in the dining hall. Among them was Ilse, wearing an exhausted but satisfied smile. Our eyes met, and I gave her a warm grin.
"It was a wonderful meal. Both Lord Ferdinand and I were extremely satisfied. I can now entrust the entertainment of visiting merchants to this establishment with complete confidence. I commend your spirit of inquiry and hard work over these past two years."
Ilse closed her eyes tightly once, clenched her trembling fists, slowly let out a breath, and then showed a proud smile.
"Thank you very much. We look forward to your next visit."