Chapter 2 | The Assassin Makes a Delicious Meal
I was in the kitchen the following evening, preparing a feast to celebrate the growth of our family.
“Lord Lugh, please taste the stew.”
“Add a little more salt.”
“Yes, my lord.”
I left the finishing touches on the stew and the salad to Tarte, freeing myself to work on the boar and the runamass.
I pickled the boar in fruit juice containing spices to counteract the smell and enzymes to tenderize the meat. Since noon, I’d been engrossed in a special sort of cooking.
I was using the tenderloin of the boar because it was low in fat, and I had thoroughly removed the muscle.
Given that I was feeding a pregnant woman, I paid particular attention to sanitation. I cleansed the meat thoroughly, performed high-pressure sterilization using wind magic, and froze it to kill parasites using fire magic. Fire magic manipulated quantities of heat, which meant it could also be used to freeze.
I had announced yesterday that I was making tataki, but I wasn’t going to serve them raw meat.
I was trying out a new cooking utensil. Tarte peered over with great interest.
“That’s a strange pot.”
“This is called a slow cooker. It’s really convenient.”
The tool had been a cutting-edge cooking implement in my previous life. It was scientifically proved that sixty degrees Celsius was the ideal temperature to cook meat to increase its flavor and prevent it from becoming tough.
The only problem was that it demanded an incredible amount of time and patience. I needed to heat the boar meat for five hours.
You also have to watch the pot for the entire five hours… But I have a trick to get around that.
The slow cooker had a certain something built into it, which I’d created using technology gleaned from analyzing my divine treasure. I’d engraved a formula into the pot and inserted Fahr Stones into it so the spell would cast repeatedly.
This cooking session was a test of endurance for magic tools to see if they could repeatedly invoke magic over a lengthy period.
I pulled the vacuum-packed boar meat out of the water in the slow cooker. I had poured liquid seasoning and spices into the vacuum seal along with the meat. Five hours in that bag had caused the flavors to permeate the boar.
“Looks perfect. I’ve learned that extended use over a long period has no negative effect on the precision of a magic tool. Time to finish up.”
I grabbed a small charcoal grill I’d once made for fun. The coals were lit, and the grate was heated.
I placed the boar onto the grill. I’d cut the meat into the shape of a cylinder earlier, which allowed me to roll it to sear the entire surface. The meat had already been sufficiently cooked, but I did this for the extra aroma.
Once I finished with that, I cut the boar into thick slices. It had that characteristic tenderness you only got by cooking meat at a lower temperature, plus it had been pickled in fruit enzymes overnight. It would be easy to chew, even in thick slices.
“Wow, what a nice light-pink color. It looks delicious,” said Tarte.
“It’s great. Here, have a slice,” I offered.
Excluding the grilled skin, the boar meat slices were entirely the rose color of the juiciest and most tender roast beef. That was what you could achieve with a slow cooker.
“I can’t believe how soft and delicate it is. Boar tataki is amazing.”
“Yup. The amount of time required prohibits me from making it often, but the taste is worth the effort. Can you finish things up here for me?”
“Yes, my lord!”
Tarte placed the cut slices on a salad and applied a special ponzu sauce as the finishing touch. Ponzu was light and went well with tataki.
It was finally time to get started on the day’s main course.
“Yep, newcomers are not gonna take well to this scent.”
I pulled the runamass out of the rice bran. Unsurprisingly, it stank in that fermented way. You got used to the smell eventually, but it would be rough on anyone eating it for the first time.
I washed the runamass thoroughly to remove the rice bran, cut it open to plaster it with salt, wrapped it in parchment paper that I had moistened together with herbs, and put it in the steam cooker.
Tarte watched me with evident confusion. “Why did you wrap it in paper before steaming?”
“Wrapping the fish in paper keeps it moist and prevents the fish extract from escaping, and it’s a good way to transmit an herbal aroma used to remove the smell. It also causes the fish to cook evenly. There are a great number of advantages to this method,” I explained.
“That sounds like it will get rid of the smell of the rice bran.”
“There’s still more to do on that front.”
Steaming fish wrapped in paper was a Japanese cooking technique called hosho-yaki. This was only the beginning, however. I was making this steamed fish in the Chinese style.
I purposefully removed the runamass from the cooker before it was finished, then moved it onto a different plate. I sprinkled plenty of green onion shreds on top and poured a heated balm on top of that.
A fragrant odor wafted from the loudly crackling charred green onions. That scent mixed with the balm I’d created and the smell of the fermented runamass, removing the rice bran stink entirely.
I’d made the steamed fish a little sweet because I planned to cook it with oil as the last step.
This was a Chinese method known as qīng zhēng, and it was one of the most delicious ways to prepare fish.
Lastly, I added sauce and sprinkled coriander on top.
“The charred onion smell is making my mouth water!” exclaimed Tarte.
“The taste is just as good as the smell. The oil made the skin crispy and the exterior soft and flaky, but the middle is moist,” I stated.
“Wow, I can’t wait to try it. Can I taste it now?”
“No. I want to preserve the visual of the full steaming fish.”
“Aw, man.”
The fish gave off an appetizing scent and featured the best points of both steamed and fried food. Such was the appeal of qīng zhēng.
With that, my feast was now complete.
I’d promised Dia that I would make gratin, but that would definitely make for too much food. I decided I would use the leftovers from the stew to make gratin the next day.
It was finally time to eat. Mom, Dad, Tarte, Dia, and Nevan were all at the table.
Still standing, Tarte inquired, “Um, is it really okay for me to sit at the table?”
“This is a special occasion. We’re celebrating! You’re already an official mistress, so no one will complain if you receive special treatment. Actually, I would like for you to sit with us from now on,” my mother replied.
Tarte sat down and shrank in her chair. She was used to standing behind me as my retainer.
“Um, when did I get officially recognized?” she asked timidly.
My mother chuckled. “Oh, Tarte, I know what you’ve been up to. I’m floored you thought you could keep such bold behavior from me.”
Tarte flushed. She was easy to tease for someone so shy.
“Mom, please save the teasing for later. The food is going to get cold,” I said.
“You’re right. Let’s dig in!”
We all raised a toast with local Tuatha Dé alcohol.
“““Congratulations on the pregnancy!”””
After we shared our words of adulation, we began eating.
“Lugh, you lied! There’s no gratin!” Dia fumed.
“I thought it would be one too many dishes. I’ll make gratin tomorrow,” I assured her.
As I’d expected, Dia was puffing out her cheeks in anger. When she tried the boar tataki, however, her mood instantly improved.
“This is amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever had meat so soft and sweet.”
After watching Dia’s reaction, Nevan also reached for a slice of tataki.
“I’ll have some, too. Oh my, that is delicious. This is even more tender than the beef in the capital. Is this really wild boar?” she questioned.
The beef in the capital she was referring to was a luxury food made from cows that were raised specifically for consumption. Most beef came from cows that could no longer work, resulting in tough and smelly meat. Those in the capital, however, lived easy lives so that they wouldn’t build extra muscle, and they were only given food that would make them taste better.
“It all depends on the cooking technique. Even wild boar can be delicious if you put enough time and effort into it,” I explained.
If you chose an appropriate part of the boar and spent a great deal of effort preparing it, you could make it even better than beef… It wouldn’t stand a chance if you spent an equal amount of effort on quality beef, though.
I wanted to find a way to get my hands on a cow from the capital. Maha would probably be able to arrange it for me, but I didn’t want to increase her workload for an unnecessary indulgence.
“Is it out of line for me to ask what that ‘time and effort’ entails, exactly?” Nevan inquired.
“I don’t mind sharing a cooking method, and you don’t have to keep silent about it, either. I’ll write the recipe down for you later,” I told her.
I couldn’t let her see my slow cooker because it made use of a technique I’d learned from analyzing a divine treasure, and I didn’t want that information to spread, but telling her about the method of low-temperature preparation didn’t seem problematic. Given the wealth of House Romalung, they could probably hire chefs to work on low-temperature cooking full-time.
“I’m sad there’s no gratin, but your stew is as good as ever,” Dia praised.
“Lugh’s soup is already a specialty of the Tuatha Dé domain, and people even travel from other parts of the country to eat it,” Mom said with evident pride.
The wild boar tataki and the cream stew were both well-received.
The next dish, the steamed fermented runamass, was what I was nervous about.
My mother narrowed her eyes. “Hmm-hmm-hmm, I see you’ve yet to touch the fish, Nevan. Any girl unfamiliar with this taste is unfit to marry a Tuatha Dé.”
I didn’t like the smile on her face. Mom had been wary of Nevan ever since the girl declared yesterday that she would have me marry into her family.
“I would be glad to have some,” Nevan responded.
“Wait, that applies to me, too! I can’t fathom why anyone would ferment fish in rice bran,” said Dia, panicking. She looked way more frightened than Nevan, despite already possessing Mom’s approval.
“You said it would stink, but this actually smells quite pleasant. The aroma is only making me more excited to try it,” Nevan commented.
Dia gave a surprised look. “This is the fish that was supposed to stink? I thought for sure that hadn’t been put on the table yet.”
“Huh? Now that you mention it, something does smell really nice… Lugh, did you make normal runamass instead of fermenting it? How could you!” accused my mother.
“I promise it’s fermented runamass. Try it, and that much will become clear,” I assured her.
Fermented fish was known for its awful odor but had a richer taste than raw fish, so she would understand once she tried some. No amount of cooking magic could make a raw dish taste like this.
Nevan, Dia, and my mother grabbed slices and sampled my handiwork.
“It’s delectable! This is without a doubt the best steamed fish in the world,” declared Nevan.
“Yeah, it’s amazing. I’ve never had fish that smelled this good. It’s delicious, too,” agreed Dia.
My mother was nodding. “This is unmistakably fermented runamass. It’s delicious. This completely spoils my test, but I’m touched that you made such a wonderful meal for me, Lugh. I can feel that the baby in my belly is happy as well.”
After hearing their opinions, I decided to taste it myself. Just as I’d wanted, the skin was crispy, the exterior was soft, and the inside was moist. The flavoring was perfect, too. I doubted one could find steamed fish this good even in the capital.
Tarte also gave it high praise after eating some a moment later.
However, one person at the table was looking unsatisfied.
“Do you not like it, Dad?”
“It is certainly good, but…I like the smell of rice bran, so it doesn’t feel quite right to me.”
That was unexpected. Cooking was a complicated art. I thought the smell of rice bran was a detriment, but apparently, there were some people who liked it.
I was hoping to impress my dad just as much as I was my mom… I’d have to learn from this failure and get it right next time.
For dessert, I served a fruit tart. I’d used an abundance of produce that was in season.
“Whew, that was delicious. You’re the best cook in the world, Lugh!” exclaimed my mother.
“Surely that’s an exaggeration. You’re overly biased as his mother, Esri,” my father argued.
“I disagree, Father. As someone who has eaten gourmet food from all over the world, I assure you he is the best there is. There is more to Sir Lugh than just strength. My lust for him grows ever stronger,” said Nevan.
A chill ran down my spine.
My father gave me a strained smile and a look of encouragement. “You’re too skilled, Lugh. That is my single greatest worry… The more capable you are, the less likely the country is to ever leave you alone. You should at least take some time to rest while you’re at the estate,” he urged.
“That’s not an option. I need to use this free time to prepare. As I am now, it’s only a matter of time before I fail and die.”
That was why I had turned today’s cooking into a test of endurance for magic tools and the hunting session into a trial for my new probing spell.
“Um, Lord Lugh. We have already killed three demons. I think the last five will be easy for us,” Tarte stated.
“You’re wrong about that. It will only get tougher from here,” I asserted.
That wasn’t fear talking—I firmly believed that.
“Oh dear. Do you mind sharing why you believe that?” Nevan pressed. I had a feeling she already had an answer in mind and was checking to see if my thinking matched hers.
“Demons are intelligent. They’ve been acting individually so far only because they are competing with one another. That rivalry has also made them act hastily in their assaults. But now, three demons—the orc, the beetle, and the lion—have died in succession. Assuming they’re not complete morons, the demons have to be devising a plan to deal with us,” I explained.
If this was just a game and the demons were the pieces, they would likely continue attacking without much consideration. They weren’t that stupid, however. Their methods hadn’t worked, so they were bound to change their strategy.
“What do you think they’ll do, Lugh?” asked Dia.
“Having two demons attack us at once would be the simplest solution. Do you think we could have won the last battle if there had been a pair of them?” I asked.
Dia frowned. “…I’m afraid we wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
“That’s right. Right now, we can defeat a demon acting alone if we have time for thorough preparation, and even then, it’s still a close call. Honestly, I’ve been worried for a while about the possibility of multiple demons attacking. That’s why I devised the version of Gungnir that sends enemies flying.”
That was an ability I had initially prepared to separate multiple enemies.
“They are already capable of creating situations I can’t handle. Sending a horde of monsters to attack Tuatha Dé, for example. If a demon tried that, I wouldn’t be able to abandon my home to track it down. By the time we finished cleaning up the monsters, the demon would have already completed its goal and made its escape. Simpler yet, they could attack a location too far away for us to reach in time.”
I could travel at very high speeds with my hang glider. However, we would need to be informed of a demon’s appearance first, and the messenger would not move as swiftly as we could. Mina had previously given me information on demons, but there was no guarantee she’d do so again.
“Sounds like a lot could go wrong,” said Dia.
“That’s why I can’t get careless. I need to stay focused,” I replied.
I was always striving to become stronger and improve my information network. Presently, I was building a high-speed communication system that shared a base with the Natural You information network I’d constructed with Maha’s help.
Until now, I’d been relying on carrier pigeons, which were considered to be the fastest method in this world. I was now capable of something that far surpassed birds in both speed and reliability.
Real-time transmission would be enormously powerful in this world, where the primary form of long-distance conversation was letter transport. That didn’t just go for opposing demons; it would serve me well in my future business endeavors, too.
“You never cease to impress, my lord!” Tarte complimented.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I want you to grow stronger, too, Tarte,” I said.
“I will go through any training for you, no matter how hard!” she responded excitedly.
“I’m gonna work hard as well. I’ll keep at my magic development,” added Dia.
“Well then, I will contribute with my funds and influence,” Nevan remarked.
I smiled. They would make many things possible that I couldn’t do alone.
Now that I thought about it, it was nearly time for something I had been anticipating. I needed to prepare.
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