Ishura - Volume 1 - Chapter Aft

Afterword

Thank you for reading. My name is Keiso. Though I am sure there are some who have picked this book up off the shelf and started reading from the afterword without actually buying my book, Ishura. For these individuals, I suppose I should greet you instead by saying, I hope you’ll enjoy my book.

Therefore, I need to fill this afterword with the sort of helpful information that will not only entice potential readers to buy the book but encourage them to tell their friends and family about it as well.

Allow me to walk you through how to make a delicious carbonara.

Now then, what mental image do you have of carbonara? I imagine there are many of you out there who consider it a difficult and troublesome dish—some pasta tossed with powdered cheese, strangely difficult to properly heat for some reason, and then, what to do with the leftover cream in the fridge? It doesn’t keep long, but maybe you could put it in your coffee…? I’m sure some of you out there know the piece of trivia that true Italian carbonara doesn’t actually use cream in it at all.

I’ve been able to cook my usual carbonara recipe with a few more economical adjustments to the standard recipe. First, regarding the cheese, even a true citizen of Italy would be sure to include it without a doubt, so I think it’s fine to have the cheese on hand. However, I recommend that instead of the powdered cheese you can buy in the supermarket, you buy between a pound to two pounds Parmigiano-Reggiano from an online store. While it commands a hefty price of around twenty dollars a pound, normal cylinders of powdered cheese are sold at around three dollars for a tenth of a pound, making them a whopping fifty dollars per pound. Cheese is a preserved food to begin with, so it will last for well over half a year if stored properly. Parmigiano-Reggiano is an extremely tasty cheese and can be used in many dishes outside of carbonara, so I would say this is a much better bargain.

Now, as for the bacon, the normal slabs or thick-cut packs of bacon you can find in the supermarket are just fine. There’s no need to go out of your way to use difficult meats like pancetta or guanciale. They’re expensive, too. I don’t use any heavy cream, so this will save another three dollars or so.

The eggs can be your normal, everyday eggs.

Once you’ve got your ingredients together, start by boiling the pasta. A slightly gentle boil will match the carbonara best. On the other burner, line a frying pan with a slightly larger-than-normal amount of oil and fry up four to five slices of thick-cut bacon.

While prepping the pasta and bacon, grate about one to two tablespoons of the Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese and throw it in the bowl you plan to put the pasta. Next you crack the egg into the same bowl, but I think one yolk and half the white is the perfect amount here. When I crack the egg, I end up throwing away about half the white. It’s a bit of a waste, so I ask you readers to think up another way to use the leftover egg white if you can. I imagine that the egg whites I’ve thrown away wish they could’ve been turned into a fancy macaron or something similar.

As your mind drifts to thoughts of macrons, it should be just about time for the bacon to turn a crispy golden brown. Make sure both sides are nice and crispy and wait until the pasta is done boiling.

Now, as for the level of heat, which society has recognized as one of the most important parts of making carbonara, in actuality, it’s been proven that there is no need to worry about it at all. Transfer a single serving of the pasta over to the bowl with the grated cheese and egg, add the bacon (I’ve forgotten to add in the bacon I prepared before, but I digress), and if you mix them all together well, the remaining heat and moisture from the boiled pasta will turn it into a carbonara with the perfect level of heat and water content. Surprising, isn’t it?

The result is that carbonara will have the pasta entirely coated in the egg’s luster, and by having the cheese grated instead of powdered, it doesn’t fully melt, leaving behind small chunks that add a welcome richness, resulting in a wonderful creamy flavor without the need for heavy cream.

Then, I season the fresh carbonara with as much coarsely ground pepper as I care to add and enjoy. Before I dig in, I offer my deepest gratitude to Kureta for their beautiful illustrations of all the numerous and multiracial characters I unreasonably forced on them; my editor Nagahori for their pinpoint advice regarding the expression and composition of my work, sharing as much passion as myself, if not more; and to all the readers supporting Ishura.

Now, while I may have finished eating the carbonara, we’re not done yet. There should be a bit of the sauce left behind in your bowl after you’re done eating. If you mix some tomatoes, cabbage, or bell peppers left in your fridge, you can use the sauce as a salad dressing and make a somewhat nutritionally balanced after-dinner salad, if you so choose.

However, I have yet to teach you the most wonderful part of this carbonara recipe. After you’ve finished eating, you’re left with an extremely small number of plates and cooking utensils to wash afterward. If I eat everything straight from the bowl I used to make the sauce, I can get away with only washing this one dish. You can reuse both the frying pan you cooked the bacon in and the bacon grease for other dishes. The only other things that need washing are the knife, cutting board, and the pot you used to boil the pasta.

The book you’ve just read, Ishura, was written by myself as I replenished my energy with dishes like the carbonara described above. This is a story that features several different protagonists, all of them possessing brutal, peerless, and unbeatable superpowers and using them to mercilessly kill one another. In the next volume, many more Shura will make their appearance, and a tournament will begin in Aureatia, but it will still remain a story of the strongest versus the strongest, a killing melee where intrigue, superpowers, and everything else is fair game. I believe fifteen dollars is a fair price, so I hope you’ll continue to pick up the next volume and beyond.

Incidentally, if you start using the carbonara recipe I’ve laid out in this afterword, between the eleven dollars saved per pound of cheese and the four dollars saved from leaving out the heavy cream, you’ll save yourself fifteen in total. If you’re wondering what to do with these fifteen dollars, well, I’m sure you astute readers who are reading this afterword in a bookstore somewhere know what to do.

Thus, if you would be kind enough to bring this book up to the register, then I will be able to avoid my previous “I hope you’ll enjoy my book” equivocality and unreservedly thank you for reading this book. Thank you very much.