The Archduke and the Italian Restaurant
I had expected to return to the temple after lunch, but, as my fever was still going strong come noon, Ferdinand decided to stay behind. He sent his attendants back to the temple without him, and it wasn’t until later that afternoon that my fever finally went down.
“I suppose that should suffice,” Ferdinand said. He put me onto his highbeast and we returned to the temple accompanied by Damuel and Brigitte, who followed on either side of us.
“Damuel, did you find a wife?” I asked, having ultimately failed to spot him during the feast last night. He furrowed his brow sadly and shook his head.
“...Unfortunately not. Though I have been blessed with the opportunity to guard you, Lady Rozemyne, I have still been demoted to the rank of an apprentice knight.”
It would be hard for someone to consider marrying Damuel while he was serving his punishment as a mere apprentice, to be sure, but he was still a knight of the archduke’s adopted daughter. In my opinion, it would be fine for him to set up an engagement before his punishment was up. Damuel also seemed to be getting more and more precious mana thanks to my blessing so, as far as I was concerned, anyone who decided to marry him would be getting a great deal.
“Well, there’s always next year to look forward to,” I said.
“It’s hard to be too optimistic, but I’ll try my best. How did things go for you, Brigitte?” Damuel asked casually.
I watched Brigitte timidly, already knowing about her circumstances. She lowered her gaze the moment our eyes met.
“...I canceled a previous engagement following the passing of my father. I cannot imagine that there will ever be a second chance for me,” Brigitte said, wearing such a stiff expression that my urge to help her somehow grew even stronger.
We descended to the Noble’s Gate and returned to my quarters, where Fran opened the door with perfect timing and welcomed us inside.
“Fran, but how? We didn’t send word of our return.”
“I noticed the highbeasts descending toward the Noble’s Gate,” Fran said coolly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. In reality, he had probably been looking out the window the whole time that he was waiting for us. He really was a model attendant. I looked up at him, and he knelt down so that we could make eye contact. “Lady Rozemyne, it appears that you are not feeling well.”
“You think so? Ferdinand gave me a potion, and my fever’s gone down, so...”
As I touched my face and hands to check my temperature, Ferdinand shook his head. “I trust Fran’s word more than yours. Fran, put Rozemyne to bed. Do not let her do anything else today.”
“As you wish.”
The two settled the matter without even giving me a chance to speak. At this rate, I would be forced into bed against my will.
As Fran picked me up and headed to my room, I asked him a question. “Fran, could you send a messenger to the Gilberta Company?”
Fran shook his head. “Please postpone it until tomorrow,” he said, using Ferdinand’s order as a shield. It was true that I wasn’t feeling particularly well, but there was stuff that I had to do. The last thing I needed was being stuck in bed, unable to do anything.
“It’s very important. Sylvester has decided on the day he’ll be visiting the eatery. I need to let them know.”
“You can do that tomorrow,” Fran replied, refusing to budge an inch.
I pursed my lips. “Very well, then. Sylvester and Father will be visiting the temple beforehand, but I’ll tell you the date tomorrow as well.”
Fran’s shoulders twitched. The moment he heard that he was personally involved, a look of worry washed over his face.
“Tell me, Fran—can you predict the exact day that my adoptive father, the archduke, will be coming? Making preparations will be quite difficult if you’re not warned far enough in advance, no?”
“I understand. I will send a messenger to the Gilberta Company, but please make do with just a letter. A meeting would be too much. With that said, erm... when is he coming?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
At those words, Fran rushed to the High Bishop’s chambers, his eyes blinking rapidly. Not only would he need to organize the room to avoid any possible embarrassment, but he also needed to prepare tea and food appropriate to the archduke’s tastes, and there was a chance that what we had on hand wasn’t of a high enough quality.
“Please rest as soon as you’ve written the letter, Lady Rozemyne.”
“Yes, I know.”
Having secured Fran’s permission, I hurriedly wrote a letter to Benno. I mentioned the date and time that the lunch would be taking place, how many people would be attending, and added some general warnings concerning the menu, then closed by asking them to send someone tomorrow afternoon to pick up the natural yeast.
“Gil, sorry to ask when you’ve only just gotten back from the workshop, but could I ask you to deliver this to the Gilberta Company?”
“As you wish.”
Once I had finished my letter, Monika changed my clothes for me. As I crawled into bed, she made sure to give me a firm reminder that I was not to leave my bed until dinnertime.
“Monika, how was the festival at the orphanage? Did the children have fun?” I asked.
“Yes. This year, Wilma joined them in the taue throwing. The divine gifts were plentiful thanks to your request that the blue priests continue to have food prepared, and making the soup was not as tough as it was last year.”
I lazed about in bed as Monika told me what had happened while I was gone, and before I knew it, Gil had returned from delivering the message. “They’ve already finished preparing. Benno said they’ll be ready no matter when you come. Also, Leon will be coming by tomorrow to get the natural yeast,” he said, holding out a response that Benno had written to me.
I opened the letter, feeling relieved that he was on top of things, as always. Inside, he described that Freida and the guildmaster would be participating in the lunch as fellow contributors to the establishment. They both knew that Myne and Rozemyne were the same person, and he wanted me to tell the archduke that ahead of time.
I didn’t feel much better when the next day came around, so Fran forbade me from entering the director’s chambers or the book room. After some negotiation, I was able to convince him that I wouldn’t be able to rest without books to read. He brought me some from the book room, which meant that I could spend the whole day reading in bed. It was a very fulfilling, blissful day.
In the afternoon, Nicola came to inform me that Leon had come for the natural yeast. Meanwhile, Fran was busily moving in and out of my room, preparing for Sylvester and Karstedt’s arrival.
The plan had been for Sylvester, Karstedt, and their guards to arrive at third bell on the day of the lunch, but Sylvester was apparently so enthusiastic that he arrived well before third bell. I had been practicing my harspiel with Rosina when Ferdinand guided the excited-looking man in, and Ferdinand and I exchanged exactly the same grimace.
“Sylvester, please don’t come sooner than promised,” I said.
“Rozemyne is correct. How many times do I need to tell you that other people have their own lives, too?!”
“Alright, alright. But what’s the issue? We’re still gonna be heading to the eatery at the time we agreed on,” Sylvester said, casually blowing us off.
Karstedt placed a weary hand on his forehead and explained that, despite how it may seem, he had held Sylvester back for as long as he could.
Eckhart and Cornelius were standing behind them. It had been agreed that Eckhart would be coming from the very start since Karstedt needed a guard while he was eating, but Cornelius was underage, and I was pretty sure that no plans had been made for him to come.
“Cornelius, will you be joining us?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m your bodyguard too, after all.” He thumped his chest twice and gave me a confident grin, but I had a feeling that he was only here because he didn’t want to be left out of something that seemed like fun.
I looked to Eckhart for confirmation, who explained with a teasing look that, since guards ate on alternating shifts, Cornelius had offered to serve as his partner. It seemed that he had basically forced his way into joining.
“No point sending him back now that he’s here. Give him a visitor’s welcome too, Rozemyne; he’s your family.”
“Sylvester, aren’t you and the High Priest family as well?” I asked, looking at Ferdinand in hope that he would handle Sylvester himself. He looked down at me, and, with a grimace, noted that he would handle him once the meal was over.
While Fran was preparing tea, I allowed Sylvester and my brothers to investigate my chambers while I began writing another letter to Benno. I needed to tell him that I was bringing more guards than we had anticipated. He had seemed so confident about his food stores that a single extra person probably wouldn’t pose much of a problem, but knowing something like this ahead of time would likely make things a lot easier on him emotionally.
I also recorded how people were dressed, and asked that he feed this information back to Freida and the guildmaster. It would be best if everyone dressed fairly similarly. I could imagine that a single person wearing different clothes and sticking out would make them extremely uncomfortable.
“Rosina, please give this letter to those who come to get you.”
“Understood.”
Rosina would be playing harspiel for us during the meal. A carriage from the Gilberta Company would be sent for her ahead of time at third bell so that she would arrive at the eatery before us. Today, she was wearing a light-blue dress that I had purchased through Benno for this specific occasion, and it looked incredible on her.
“Lady Rozemyne, I must be going. I shall see you soon,” Rosina said with an elegant smile, before fleeing the room of archnobles prior to third bell. Nicola, who was basically descending into a small panic over our visit from the archduke and the commander of the Knight’s Order, watched her go with envy.
“Nicola, please serve cookies to everyone. You may taste-test them and choose the tastiest ones.”
“Yes, milady! You can count on me.”
Amused by how eagerly Nicola rushed to the kitchen to begin taste-testing, I headed over to Sylvester, who was enjoying the tea that Fran had served him. Despite the fact that it was just before lunch, he was stuffing his face full of the cookies that Nicola was serving him while raving about how good they were. Cornelius watched on with frustrated envy, unable to eat as he was standing behind him as a guard.
When fourth bell rang, more carriages arrived from the Gilberta Company. One was for me, Ferdinand, Sylvester, and Karstedt; another was for my brothers, Damuel, and Brigitte; and the last was for Fran and Ferdinand’s three attendants. Our sizable train of three carriages headed toward the restaurant.
“What the heck’s wrong with this carriage?!” Sylvester exclaimed, his eyes flared open in anger. He was clearly annoyed that commoner carriages shook, unlike the ones in the Noble’s Quarter.
“This is just how carriages in the lower city are. The ones in the Noble’s Quarter use magic tools, remember? And the roads there are flat and straight.”
“Rozemyne, can’t you use that knowledge of yours to fix this? Forget about books; these carriages are a travesty.”
“...I’d never even ridden in a carriage before coming here. I don’t know a single thing about what could be done to fix them.”
I never had any interest in the structure of carriages since I had never had any plans to ride one. I might have read a paragraph or two about how suspension was used to lessen the impact of the shaking, but I didn’t remember enough details to give Johann a concrete order.
“And it smells just as bad as it did last time,” Sylvester commented, scrunching up his face in a grimace and no doubt recalling when he had passed through the lower city to go hunting. Given that Karstedt and Ferdinand were also wearing stiff frowns, I could tell that they were thinking the same thing.
“If you hate it that much, why don’t you dedicate some of your budget to improving sanitation in the lower city?”
“Is that truly something you could fix with money?” Karstedt asked, looking at me with great interest. There was so much anticipation in his voice that it was actually kind of painful.
“...The smell would, for the most part, disappear if we could build a proper sewage system. I don’t know everything that would entail, though.”
“Are books seriously the only thing you know about?! Sheesh, your knowledge sure is useless half the time!” Sylvester bellowed at me. But his yelling wouldn’t change that my interests had always been focused on a single point that I prioritized above all else: books. I could think about other things once they were taken care of.
“Why would I bother to remember precise details about things I don’t need or care about? Do you remember everything you’ve ever learned, Sylvester?” I asked.
“I leave that job to Ferdinand.”
...Why are you proudly puffing out your chest?! That’s not something to be proud of!
I looked at Sylvester, feeling exhausted before we had even arrived at our destination. “Sylvester, I would like to preemptively inform you of who will be joining us at the meal,” I said, before going on to explain everything that Benno had asked me to in the letter. I mentioned Freida and the guildmaster first, adding that they knew me from before my baptism.
“Hm. A merchant who has a sharp nose for profit, huh? Got it. I’ll decide on how to deal with him once I see him.”
We arrived at the Italian restaurant midway through Sylvester’s sentence. He closed his mouth and put on the archduke face that he wore in public. This was a pretty big eatery since it was in the north of town, but it was the same size as the other six-story buildings around it. From the outside, it was almost impossible to tell that it had been modeled after the mansion of a noble.
The attendants alighted from their carriage first carrying our things, then the guards disembarked from theirs. Once the outside of the restaurant had been cleaned and cleared of any obstacles to make the walk to the front door easier, Karstedt descended from the carriage with Ferdinand, then helped me down, leaving Sylvester the archduke to climb out last.
The three carriages lined up next to each other were drawing the attention of passersby. Even those who didn’t know who we were could tell at a glance that we were obscenely rich, and an increasingly growing peanut gallery started to form a reasonable distance away.
“Let’s hurry inside, Sylvester,” I suggested.
The door was shut behind us as we entered, blocking off most of the outside’s smell and freeing us from the intrigued eyes of the public. I let out a sigh of relief and turned around to see Benno, Mark, the guildmaster, Freida, and the waiters, all kneeling with their arms crossed in front of their chests.
It had been a long time since I had last seen Freida, but I couldn’t casually bring that up since I wasn’t Myne anymore. Feeling a bit lonely, I listened to Benno give a lengthy greeting as their representative.
“We are the owners and employees of the Italian restaurant. May this serendipitous meeting, ordained by the vibrant summer rays of Leidenschaft the God of Fire, be blessed by the gods.”
“May this meeting be blessed.”
When I had last visited the Italian restaurant, its interior decoration hadn’t even been finished yet. It looked entirely different now: there were ornate window frames and doors, the walls were adorned with tapestries, carpet had been laid, and various paintings and flower-filled vases served to punctuate the already opulent atmosphere. The entrance hall was furnished with benches and chairs so that it doubled as a waiting room, and I could see the decorations that Rosina and Fran had picked out some time ago.
“This is the room where your honorable guards will be eating. As it was not built with serving nobles in mind, it is of a slightly lower quality than the main dining hall, but I beg your forgiveness for this.”
Benno was referring to a simple room which had a sizable table and several chairs. It was apparently an eating area for staff members, but could also be used as an extra waiting space while the main room was being cleared. Since it hadn’t been designed for actual customers, the fact that it was too simple for noble guards could hardly be helped.
“This is the dining hall.”
“Impressive. Feels like one that a mednoble or laynoble might have. It’s hard to believe this is in the lower city,” Sylvester said.
“I appreciate your kind words,” Benno replied, visible relief on his face. The restaurant that he had spent so much time and money on had gotten direct approval from the archduke himself, so I could understand his reaction.
Elaborately carved, waist-high wainscoting ran along the wall, alongside a number of shelves that were decorated with expensive-looking plates and vases, plus a picture book that I had made and the origami wishing crane that I had given Benno a very long time ago. The tables were polished to a glossy sheen, and had as many napkins and menus as there were people seated. There was also a vase of seasonal flowers in the middle of each table, kept short enough that it wouldn’t obscure the vision of customers seated across from each other. They had even added a cute little bell used to summon the waiter. I gave a big nod of satisfaction.
“Now then, please follow me.”
Once we had looked around the restaurant to our hearts’ content, we were guided to our table. Eckhart stood at the door facing the table, while Brigitte stood on the other side of the door, outside the room. Meanwhile, Damuel and Cornelius headed to the side room.
“I shall now introduce those who funded the establishment of this restaurant. First is Lady Rozemyne, the archduke’s adopted daughter. The menu being served today consists largely of recipes provided by her. Next is Gustav, the guildmaster of the Merchant’s Guild, and his granddaughter, Freida. They contributed greatly to the training of our waiters and chefs.”
Benno introduced the archduke to those who would be eating with us, and that was when I learned the guildmaster’s name for the first time—Gustav.
“You two, huh?”
Sylvester shot Freida and the guildmaster a piercing glare, knowing that they knew my past as Myne. The guildmaster was always so domineering and arrogant in my memories, but here he was practically cowering as he kept his arms crossed over his chest.
“Gustav and Freida, I hear that you are both wise individuals—that you have sharp noses for profit and the skill to seize opportunities that others would miss. In that case, I imagine you both already know what to do. Am I right to think that?”
“Of course. We will do everything in our power to assist you, my lord.”
“Good. Soon, my daughter will be starting a significant new industry. I ask that you aid her efforts.”
Sylvester indirectly ordered them to assist Benno without dragging their feet, and it seemed that the guildmaster fully intended to do just that. He was kind of a greedy person, but he had saved my life before; it was a relief to know that he’d be staying on our side.
Freida, feeling more at ease now that the archduke was no longer staring daggers at her, made eye contact with me. We both smiled and nodded at each other. She would be living in the Noble’s Quarter when she grew up, so I wanted to make sure we stayed on good terms.
While Benno was giving his introductions, Fran was with Ferdinand’s attendants preparing the cutlery and dishes we had brought ourselves. The waiters were taking care of everyone else’s dishes, and I spotted Leon among them.
The food itself was brought on a serving cart covered in pots and big plates. The attendants and waiters started taking the plates off, each preparing to serve their respective bosses. Fran would be serving the archduke today, while Zahm would be serving me. Status-wise, the archduke needed to be served first, but this was the first time that anyone was working here, and nobody wanted to be the one to improperly serve the archduke these unique dishes. After a brief discussion, it was decided that Fran was the most used to my cooking and should thus serve the archduke, while everyone else observed what he did.
“So this is today’s menu, huh?” Sylvester picked up the board that had been set on the table in front of him and looked it over with great interest. I could see a grin forming on his face as he saw the list of various dishes that he had never eaten before.
Leon began by serving fluffy bread, so freshly baked that it was still steaming. Its enticing aroma stirred my hunger, making me want to eat as soon as possible. Karstedt and Ferdinand looked at the bread in surprise, since it didn’t look like the bread they were used to, while Freida and the guildmaster shot glances in my direction.
Fran smoothly set a plate down in front of Sylvester. On it was a mound of potato salad made with handmade mayonnaise, partly surrounded by steamed bird and vegetable salad, which had been shaped into a crescent and topped with faux Italian dressing.
“O mighty King and Queen of the endless skies who doth grace us with thousands upon thousands of lives to consume, O mighty Eternal Five who rule the mortal realm, I offer thanks and prayers to thee, and do partake in the meal so graciously provided.”
Once everyone’s food had been served, we all offered prayers. Once that was done, I picked up my fork; those who invited others to a meal ate first, partially to demonstrate that the food hadn’t been poisoned.
...Yup. Tasty.
I chowed down on my food, and saw that Sylvester was immediately digging in. His love for new things was evident by how he ignored the vegetable salad and instead went straight for the potato salad, which he had never seen before. That was the complete opposite to Ferdinand, who went for the familiar-looking salad before anything else.
I watched Sylvester carefully to see how he would react. He chewed for a moment, then widened his eyes in shock and looked at me. “...Rozemyne, what is this stuff? I’ve never tasted anything like it before,” he said, his deep-green eyes shining with excitement. He was apparently fond of potato salad.
“It’s called potato salad. You boil potatoffels, crush them, put in other vegetables, and mix it all together with (mayonnaise). Does it suit your tastes?”
“Like I said, I’ve never tasted anything like it before, but it’s not bad. Yeah, not bad at all.”
He really did seem to like it, which reminded me that Lutz’s brothers had all been super pumped too back when I had first taught them how to make mayonnaise. They said that it made bitter, previously nasty vegetables actually taste good. Incidentally, I had never made mayonnaise by myself since becoming Myne; mixing the ingredients required a lot of strength, and as there were no electric mixers or anything, I had no choice but to ask for help.
Karstedt, seeing Sylvester ignore the vegetable salad entirely to focus on the potato salad, tried some potato salad himself. He chewed for a bit, then nodded. “Its flavor is certainly unique, but not in a bad way.”
It was only once he had seen both of their reactions that Ferdinand took a fairly small bite himself. His expression barely changed, but given that he then put even more in his mouth, I could tell that he was satisfied with how it tasted.
Benno had been observing the three archnobles to see how they reacted as closely as I had, and, upon seeing their approval, he relaxed his shoulders a bit and started eating from his own plate. He, Freida, and the guildmaster had all eaten the practice dishes made by the chefs, so while they did enjoy the food, none of them looked surprised in the least while eating.
“Sylvester,” I said as I saw him reaching to get more potato salad, “please try the other salad.” He hadn’t even touched the steamed bird yet.
With a small grimace born from a hatred of vegetables, Sylvester stabbed a fork into his salad. He chewed loudly for a bit, then blinked in surprise and took another bite. “Rozemyne, this salad’s unnaturally good. What kind of sauce did you put on it?”
“I put (herb dressing) on it. It’s made of plant oil, salt, citrus fruit, and some edible herbs, but the flavor changes depending on what you make it with.”
In this world, it was standard practice to cook sauces, and most of them were made using meat juice. They even put a sauce that was similar to gravy on vegetables. That tasted good in its own way, but it often led to the vegetables getting all greasy, which I wasn’t too fond of.
“What’re the white chunks on top of the vegetables? Looks like bird meat, but they’re soft and taste kinda different.”
“Bird meat is right. It took extra time to prepare, but the flavor was worth it, don’t you agree?”
Even Sylvester with his distaste for vegetables readily finished the whole salad, then tried asking Fran for seconds.
“Sylvester, if you fill up on salad now, then you won’t be able to eat any of the other food we’ve prepared,” I said.
“Ngh. Good point.”
I picked up a portion of fluffy bread and tore off a bite-sized piece, indicating that others could do the same if they wanted. It was still steaming hot, and the sweet scent of freshly baked bread rose into the air the moment I pulled it apart. I tossed the piece into my mouth, enjoying the warm sweetness and soft mouthfeel.
Mmm... Tastes like Hugo’s baking. Even though they were using the same recipe, Hugo’s bread always came out slightly differently from Ella’s thanks to his higher level of precision and skill. A smile spread across my face as I enjoyed the familiar taste, at which point I noticed Freida eagerly grabbing a piece herself. It seemed that she had been carefully waiting for me to try some first.
The moment that Freida touched the still-warm bread, she looked up at me in surprise. She hadn’t expected that it would be so soft, and squeezed it in her hand a few times as if confirming that she wasn’t mistaken. She then tore off a piece and ate it. Her eyes shot open wide, and she placed a hand over her mouth as she chewed. The sparkles in her brown eyes grew steadily brighter, and I could easily tell that she was calculating the potential for profit in her head.
“Lady Rozemyne, I have never before eaten bread this soft, or that tastes so naturally sweet on its own. I would very much like to serve it here.”
As expected, she jumped on the opportunity. I had expected as much since I hadn’t even taught Hugo how to make the natural yeast, instead just giving him the yeast I had made myself.
Now then, how should I turn her down? I thought, only to have Sylvester grin and interject before I could say anything.
“Freida, right? Sorry, but that’s not gonna happen. This bread is a secret recipe that I’m gonna use to surprise nobles in the winter,” he said, before looking at me with gleaming green eyes. I fully intended to use the fluffy bread to strengthen my position in noble society, so I had no disagreements there.
“Sylvester is correct. I allowed the chefs to make this bread since Sylvester and Father were visiting, but it will only be revealed to the world come winter.”
“I see. That is a shame,” Freida said with a smile before taking another bite. From what I understood, Leise was her only chef, and I could imagine that she wanted her to try some too.
“It certainly tastes good, but... Hm...” Karstedt, who was halfway through his third bread roll, furrowed his brow in thought. “The bread being this soft actually makes it a bit unsatisfying. I reckon that I could keep eating these forever and still never feel full.”
Chewing was an important factor when it came to feeling full and satisfied. I made a mental note that Karstedt liked harder bread; making sure that he had as much fluffy bread as was needed to satisfy him would probably be a huge blow to my wallet.
“And this is (consommé) soup.”
A large pot of soup was wheeled into the room on another cart, and an aroma that caught everybody’s attention immediately filled the room. The clear amber-colored soup inside had no vegetables or anything mixed into it, and had been cooked just enough that the umami had concentrated. Nothing in this entire region would taste anything like it, since here it was completely normal for people to boil vegetables and then toss away the broth.
“It smells nice, but there’s nothing in it,” Sylvester said with a confused look after watching Fran pour some soup for him. In the culinary world here, everyone understood soup to be a pile of vegetables that were boiled to the point of being overcooked. Soup that lacked visible ingredients simply did not exist.
“The flavor becomes more apparent when there isn’t anything in it. I think you’ll be surprised by how tasty it is,” I said, bringing my face close to my bowl so that I could enjoy the smell. It had a thick aroma that made my mouth water.
I dipped my spoon into the amber soup that had been delicately strained over and over again, and the appetizing smell grew even stronger as tiny ripples spread along its surface. Then, I put the spoon into my mouth, rolling the consommé over my tongue to enjoy the concentrated umami taste. The thick, deep flavor had a surprisingly refreshing aftertaste, and I couldn’t help but sigh in awe. Hugo had obviously worked hard on it. Maybe it was because Hugo had so much more experience, but honestly, this was several times better than the consommé that Ella had made.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Sylvester said, putting a spoonful of soup in his mouth. His eyes shot open, then started to gleam with delight as he immediately ate some more. On his third spoonful, he moved the soup around in his mouth while blinking in confusion. “What flavor is this?”
“It has hints of meat, vegetables, and all sorts of other things in it. It’s a soup that has a concentrated umami taste. It can be used to add flavor to other meals, too.”
Ferdinand tightly knit his brow, a look of pure bewilderment on his face as he ate the consommé. You would think that an expression like that would be a sign that he hated it, but the speed at which he was eating suggested otherwise.
“Ferdinand, you seem confused about something. Does it not suit your palate?”
“Hm? Ah. No, I find this soup to be quite beautiful,” he said. While I sat there confused as to why Ferdinand would praise the food for its appearance rather than its taste, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and explained. “Indeed, it truly is beautiful. You can tell from a single sip how deep the flavor is, and how many ingredients were used to form it, no? Each has its own delicious taste, but here they have been fused and condensed into one. And yet, there is nothing in the soup itself. It is so clear that one can see through to the bottom. The soup has a beauty that has been refined to perfection.”
It was still a bit hard for me to understand what he meant, and I definitely hadn’t expected him to talk about it at such length. It seemed safe to assume that he really liked the consommé soup.
“The next course has been prepared,” a waiter announced, pushing over another cart. On it was another main dish: the (macaroni gratin). It had been baked in small ceramic bowls, which were now set on wooden plates with handles to make them easier to hold.
“These brown bowls are extremely hot, so take care not to touch them under any circumstances. Please hold the wooden parts when eating.”
Everyone could tell from a single glance that the gratin had only just been taken out of the oven. Steam was coming off of the still-bubbling white sauce, and the cheese atop it was moving. The aroma coming from the white steam carrying the crisp smell of cooked cheese was irresistible.
Since this world lacked macaroni, I settled on making handmade farfalle pasta. It complemented the white sauce well, and nobody would have to worry about any boiling sauce getting caught inside and scalding their tongue. It was perfect.
“Rozemyne, is this baked cheese?”
“It’s something similar. Take care not to burn your tongue while eating.”
There were several commonplace noble recipes that involved putting cheese on birds or vegetables before baking them, and I had eaten meat sauce before, but nothing here tasted like white sauce. Maybe it didn’t yet exist, or maybe I had just coincidentally never tried it.
I wrapped some of the hot cheese around a piece of farfalle, blew on it, and then put it in my mouth. Strong feelings of joy washed over me the moment it touched my palate. Since the ingredients here were somewhat different, the resulting dish had a flavor unlike what I was used to, but this was a recipe that my Earth mom had used to make back in my Urano days.
“Rozemyne.” Sylvester took a single bite before looking at me with narrowed eyes. “How is this anything like baked cheese? It tastes nothing like what I’m used to.”
“Well, it’s cheese, and it was baked in an oven, so I think it’s fair to say that they’re similar.”
“Everything else is completely new to me. What’s this droopy white stuff, for example? I like it.”
I had elected to make a menu of recipes that resembled what you might expect to find on a kids’ menu at a family restaurant specifically for Sylvester’s visit, and it seemed that this decision had been a resounding success. I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at the sight of Sylvester’s glimmering green eyes as he scooped up the white sauce.
“This is white sauce. It’s made using butter, milk, and flour, with salt to taste.”
As I thought, white sauce didn’t exist here. Karstedt took one bite of gratin before setting his fork down. I looked over to see him staring at me, a serious expression on his face. He must have not liked it.
“When you were living with me, I tried a lot of those strange sweets that you had your chef make, but she never made anything like this outside of the baptism ceremony. Did your chefs make this food too, Rozemyne?”
Sylvester raised his head with a “Come again?” the moment that he heard Karstedt say “strange sweets,” but I ignored that and replied to Karstedt.
“My mother is not so careless as to trust the kitchen to a chef who has only just arrived. My chef earned her trust by making sweets, and only recently have we begun exchanging recipes. It will still be some time before she allows my chef to make actual meals.”
“I see. ‘Some time,’ hm...?”
Elvira prioritized getting sweets recipes for her tea parties. From what I could remember, I hadn’t exchanged more than a few normal recipes with her, and Ella had told me that she had mainly been tasked with making sweets during the baptism ceremony. It was a shame that I’d ended up passing out before actually getting to eat anything.
At that moment, Cornelius walked into the room with a satisfied smile, having finished eating first. “I am here to relieve you of your duties,” he said to Eckhart.
Guards were ordered to eat quickly since they ate in shifts, but, as I understood it, they were being served the same things that we were. And judging by how Cornelius was happily patting his stomach, he had eaten his fill.
Eckhart, who had only been able to watch everyone else eat, power-walked out of the room, his flat expression not faltering for a second. Damuel and Brigitte were probably changing places outside the door.
A cart was pushed into the room right as Eckhart left. It was the second dish of the meal and the first with meat.
“I prepared this thinking that you would like some meat dishes, Sylvester. It’s called (Hamburg steak) stew,” I said. I was sure that he would like it, and as expected, his eyes were gleaming.
In truth, making Hamburg steak here wasn’t easy since mincing meat was so much work, and buying ground beef flat-out like I would back in my Urano days just wasn’t an option. But Hugo and Todd had worked hard for my sake. They used knives to chop the meat like crazy until it was adequately minced, then wrapped cheese inside so that it would flow out when cut. Next, they peeled the skin off of a yellow tomato-like vegetable called a pome, which was diced and cooked in consommé soup before dipping the grilled hamburger into the soup to stew it further.
Freida and I were already getting full, so our Hamburg steaks were only half as big as everybody else’s. As my fork pierced the small, round piece of meat on my plate, clear juices flowed out, followed by thick yellow cheese a moment later.
“Something’s coming out!” Sylvester yelled.
“That’s cheese,” I replied, pulling my knife away to show the sticky cheese stretching along with it. I cut off a bite-sized piece of steak, making sure to cover it in cheese sauce, and then placed it in my mouth. “Mmm... Too good.” Nothing could beat pome sauce made with high quality consommé.
Sylvester must have been really impatient, because he lunged at his own Hamburg steak the second I took a bite of mine, hastily slicing off a piece and forking it into his mouth. His eyes widened, and he nodded hard. “Ooooh! This tastes great! I like this the most out of everything I’ve tried so far.”
“I knew that I could count on you to like it, Sylvester. I’m glad it suits your tastes so well.”
Karstedt and Ferdinand ate silently, the former cutting his steak into big chunks which he eagerly chewed through, while the latter smoothly sliced his into small pieces which he gracefully consumed. But despite their differing approaches, the meat was disappearing from both plates just as quickly.
“How is it, Ferdinand?”
“You used the soup from before to make this sauce, correct? The taste is excellent. Profound, even. To think that it could be used in this manner as well...” Ferdinand seemed to really like the consommé, and once again began to eloquently extol its virtues at great length.
...Mhm, right. It’s very beautiful. Om nom nom... Mmm! Hamburg steak is just sooo good!
Having made his way through the main dishes, Sylvester was leaning back with a blissful expression on his face. But things weren’t over yet—there was still one more course. I was already full, but I had a second stomach when it came to dessert.
I can make it. I can keep going!
As the attendants set down plates and busily moved around to prepare tea, Leon came in pushing a cart and announced the dessert for the day. Atop the cart were shortcakes, which had been cut into five centimeter-wide squares and were decorated with seasonal fruit. Pure white cream was piled on top of each one, with a gleaming red rutrebs crowning the center—it was the very image of a strawberry shortcake.
It had been extremely tough to make. Managing the oven’s heat wasn’t easy, so it had taken a long time to reach a point where our attempts could be described as a success. That said, when it did eventually happen, it definitely was tasty. Judging by how the pieces that Leon had brought out were cut, I could guess that the sides had gotten too hard to eat. They had probably only brought out the edible parts.
Another cart came in carrying the cake that we had prepared ahead of time, just in case the shortcake didn’t come out right. It was a cake that I particularly liked called a mille crepe, which was made by piling crepes on top of one another and slathering a thin layer of cream between them. To make it look even more beautiful, it was covered with a layer of orange sauce made from cooking the juice from an apfelsige with sugar. Its refreshing summer smell and taste complemented the cake well.
Atop the last wagon pushed inside were two pound cakes: one made using tea, and the other made using plenty of distilled liquor for the men who weren’t too fond of sweet things. Leise had baked these ahead of time meaning that they had been able to sit overnight, so the flavors should have definitely settled.
Sylvester looked at the various wagons that Leon had pushed in and immediately asked me which dessert was best. I told him to pick whichever one he liked, at which point he started to glare from cake to cake, fiercely deliberating which one he wanted. I was absolutely certain that he was yelling “Everything! Gimme everything!” on the inside.
Leon would of course obey if Sylvester actually ordered everything, but waiters weren’t allowed to speak unless spoken to. He had finished preparing the tea and could do nothing but watch him waver in his decision. He looked increasingly distressed, then ultimately turned to me for help.
“Sylvester, there is no need to think so hard about this. They were cut into small pieces ahead of time so that they could all fit onto your plate at once.”
“Smart thinking! In that case, I’ll take them all,” Sylvester declared, flaring his nostrils in satisfaction.
...Well, the fact that Sylvester picked them all should make it easier for anyone else who wants to taste-test each one. Sometimes him having the heart of an elementary-schooler comes in handy.
It hadn’t been too long ago that I had eaten one of the shortcakes prepared by Ella, so I selected the mille crepe instead, as planned. Meanwhile, Ferdinand and Karstedt requested one of everything, Benno asked for one of each of the pound cakes, and Freida and the guildmaster opted for the shortcake.
I leisurely enjoyed my cake while sipping my tea; the apfelsige’s sharp flavor tasted great alongside its restrained sweetness.
Those of us who had eaten these cakes before to taste-test them in the early stages all appeared very satisfied as we enjoyed our favorites, while Sylvester, Ferdinand, and Karstedt each seemed to eat in their own unique way. Sylvester had his eyes closed and seemed to be comparing the taste of each dessert; Ferdinand was eating them one at a time, wearing a contemplative frown the entire time; and Karstedt cleared his plate in the blink of an eye before requesting seconds.
Pretty good, huh? I’m glad to see that our first customers are so pleased, I thought to myself, feeling the satisfaction of a job well done.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login