Chapter 52: The Apple Pie Recipe
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 52: The Apple Pie Recipe
‘Is he having a hard time lately?’
The Grand Duke’s expression remained somber the entire way to the dining hall.
When I asked if he was alright, he merely brushed it off, saying he was just a bit tired because of the delegation.
‘He didn’t show it, but has he been under a lot of stress?’
When I asked Cecilia after she arrived for work, she nodded with a look that said it was only to be expected.
“I heard a bit from my father. They’re trying to invite the delegation from Rondoris, but the negotiations are proving quite difficult.”
“I suppose it’s because Rondoris holds the upper hand when it comes to trade.”
I tilted my head and asked, “Why? In terms of military power or wealth, isn’t Blenheim far superior? Rondoris is just a tiny kingdom.”
“Blenheim is wealthy, but there aren’t many places to actually spend that money. You’ve been to Gold Lane, Your Highness, so you know what it’s like.”
Cecilia knit her brows slightly as she continued.
“On the other hand, the Kingdom of Rondoris is practically a resort country. They have so many trading partners that new and beautiful goods are constantly pouring in. I heard that these days, even commoners with a bit of money head to Rondoris for their vacations. They say famous operas that are hard to see even in the capital are performed in Rondoris every single day.”
It seemed that theater troupes wouldn't come to Blenheim even if offered extra pay.
Blenheim was a territory with abundant funds, a commercial district like Gold Lane, and even a port. It was an ideal environment for large merchant guilds to settle, so why was it so stagnant?
“I heard that even though the delegation’s visit has already been decided, they keep pushing the date back while making all sorts of demands.”
“A power struggle?”
“That’s just how the people of Rondoris act,” Cecilia said, puffing out her cheeks. “On the outside, they act all noble and refined, but on the inside, they’re as black as coal.”
“But without Blenheim, they’d lose a major market for their goods, wouldn't they?”
“Exactly! For a country the size of a booger, they act like they have nothing to lose, playing hard to get every single time.”
That just went to show how weak the domestic market was here.
I bit my lip, thinking back to Gold Lane.
‘Is there any way I can help the Grand Duke?’
I racked my brain as the carriage passed through Gold Lane, but I couldn't find any answers that would help Blenheim’s commerce in a shopping district that lacked any real vitality.
Still, I was glad that this place, at least, was full of life.
A satisfied smile played on my lips as I looked around the dining area of Marie’s Inn.
Though dinner service was over, the interior was still packed with customers.
The five of us—Cecilia, Norton, Reta, Morina, and I—were sitting at a table in the corner, waiting for the inn to close for the night.
“Your Highness, I am so sorry. There are still guests finishing their meals, so if you could just wait a little longer…”
Jacques looked apologetic as he set down today’s dessert, a pumpkin pudding.
“I’m fine, so don’t worry about it. I came a bit early on purpose.”
I took a large spoonful of the glossy yellow cream.
“Besides, I get to eat dessert like this. What’s not to like?”
“We have plenty of pudding, so please feel free to ask for more.”
“You really are amazing, Your Highness,” Cecilia whispered, watching Jacques walk away to serve dessert to another table. “To think you’ve changed this place so much.”
“It’s thanks to Marie’s hard work. Morina’s drawings played a big part, too.”
It was certainly a breach of etiquette, but I couldn't help but lick a bit of cream off my lip.
“I agree. It’s incredible that all those drawings came from these tiny hands.”
When Cecilia turned a curious gaze toward Morina, the young girl’s face flushed bright red.
“Why aren't you two eating your pudding?”
Unlike me, who was busily devouring the dessert, Reta and Norton hadn't even put their hands on the table. I gave them both a stern look.
“Reta, Morina is the one who has to work, so there’s no need for you to be nervous. And Sir Norton, I’m not going to be attacked in a restaurant, so take your hand off your sword and pick up a spoon.”
At my words, Reta and Norton hesitated before finally picking up their puddings.
Watching the two of them eat with nearly identical expressions, I recalled how this strange group had come together today.
Ever since becoming my lady-in-waiting, Cecilia had been actively seeking my advice for her cooking recipe column.
At first, I hadn't intended to get so deeply involved, but once I saw the pie recipe Cecilia had gotten from the chef at the Viscount’s estate, I couldn't stay silent.
「…Mix flour and salt in a large bowl, then add butter to make the dough… Bake until the pie crust is brown…」
— “…Is that it?”
— “I wrote down everything the chef told me. Is it too short?”
— “You need precise measurements.”
— “Measurements?”
— “Words like ‘a little’ or ‘the right amount’ won’t do. You need exact numbers, like ‘one teaspoon’ or ‘one cup,’ so that someone seeing it for the first time can follow along.”
— “Hmm… but the chef just grabs a handful of everything.”
— “Then you have to measure that amount while standing next to him. And if you’re going to write a recipe column, you have to make it yourself.”
— “M-Me?”
— “I mean you have to verify that the recipe actually produces a proper dish. Unless you want to receive letters of complaint later saying the recipe is nonsense.”
— “Now that I think about it, you’re right.”
— “And what about the recipes? Surely you don’t plan on pestering the Viscount’s chef every single time?”
At that, Cecilia quietly grabbed the hem of my skirt.
— “W-What are you doing?”
— “It must have been the Goddess’s providence that I became your lady-in-waiting. Your Highness, please teach me!”
In the end, I began helping Cecilia plan her column.
First, securing the recipes was the priority. I felt we needed recipes attributed to someone trustworthy.
‘It would be nice to ask Berni, but exposing the Grand Duke’s head chef would be risky.’
When I thought about it that way, only one person came to mind.
‘It has to be Mrs. Marie.’
When Cecilia had Leon discreetly check her interest, the woman had fortunately agreed quite readily.
In exchange for the recipe, it was decided that the article would credit ‘Marie’s Inn’ as the provider and include the inn’s address and a promotional blurb at the bottom.
On top of that, the magazine would pay the interviewee five Eknangs.
It was a fair distribution, considering that ‘Marie’s Inn’ would also benefit from the publicity in Northern News.
‘And if we’re using her recipes…’
One more person came to mind.
— “We need an illustrator.”
— “For a recipe?”
— “A recipe is ultimately about showing the food. Adding illustrations will definitely provide visual stimulation.”
When I explained that drawings would make the cooking steps much easier to understand, Cecilia quickly agreed.
It seemed Cecilia had done a good job of sweet-talking the magazine’s publisher. I heard Morina was overjoyed to hear she would be paid three Eknangs per issue as the illustrator.
And today was the day the three of them were to work on the first recipe at the inn.
Since they were working after hours, I had only intended to drop by briefly, but Reta, worried about her sister, volunteered to accompany me. With Norton added as an escort, I unexpectedly ended up at the inn with a pair of sisters and a pair of siblings.
The dish for the first recipe was apple pie. It was one of the desserts for next week’s ‘Today’s Menu’ at the inn.
While Marie preheated the oven and made the pie crust, Cecilia followed her around like a shadow, forgetting her dignity as a noble lady to diligently measure the flour and salt. Morina, who had brought the sketchbook I bought for her, was busy sketching.
While waiting for the apple pie to bake, I added a few more tips for the recipe.
“First, list all the ingredients, and then write the instructions step-by-step below that. That way, people can check if they have everything before they start cooking.”
“Ingredients first…”
“It doesn't matter for today since it’s a pie, but for dishes like stew, it’s good to note how many servings it makes. For example, you could provide measurements for both two and five servings.”
“Since it’s food to be shared with family, that would be perfect.”
“It would also be nice to include the cooking time and a rough budget.”
“…How do you know all this, Your Highness? I wouldn't expect someone like you to have ever stepped foot in a kitchen.”
“I’ve been cooking for a long time, but I never thought of organizing a recipe like this,” Marie added. “If I had known sooner, I could have shared my methods with the other women in the neighborhood.”
Seeing Cecilia and Marie looking truly impressed, I merely replied with an awkward smile.
The finished apple pie looked absolutely delicious.
We were all happily sharing a slice to test the recipe when a loud commotion erupted outside.
‘Is someone coming?’
A moment later, the door burst open, and seven or eight children came pouring into the inn.