Chapter 46
Chapter 46
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Derived Sauces (1)
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"Um, over there..."
"..."
It had already been two days since Iris arrived in Kandoria.
The facility layout for mayonnaise production was something the Magic Tower already knew about, so discussions on that front had gone smoothly without a hitch.
However, there was one problem—
"Th-that feels like it's going to burn a hole right through..."
"Staring at it won't make a hole appear."
"Ahaha..."
For some reason, this girl was watching my every move from the side.
Iris von Valkenriter. The granddaughter of the Tower Lord and my business partner—she hadn't taken her eyes off me for even a second.
To be precise, from the moment I woke up in the morning and ate breakfast in the castle dining hall, to reviewing documents, checking the expansion plans for the chicken coops in Scarlett Pasture, and even now as I developed new menu items.
Even Erika, who would normally lighten the mood under such scholarly, observational scrutiny, was keeping her distance a bit awkwardly.
Ignoring her gaze as best I could, I scooped up a bit of the meringue batter with a fork.
The stiffly peaked egg white foam stood tall, defying gravity.
"This is something..."
Even under observation, my hands didn't stop.
Hundreds of thousands of eggs already, and millions more to come. Discarding the whites after using just the yolks would be a disaster in itself.
'Egg whites are protein too. Can't just throw them away.'
I'd instructed some of the leftover whites to be dried into powder—albumin powder—and was now whipping others into foam for meringue cookies.
'Gotta be grateful this world makes sugar surprisingly easy to get.'
Sugar was originally a luxury in medieval times, hard to come by.
The process alone—pressing sugarcane for juice, boiling it in huge pots to skim impurities and reduce it down—just to get a tiny amount of crystals. Extremely labor-intensive.
And sugarcane only grew in warm, humid climates, making it scarce and expensive in medieval Europe.
But in this world, where magic tools to summon lightning with mana crystals enriched the soil, and cold crystals allowed limited food storage, things were different.
Plus, with limited trade to the Empire's west and south, even commoners could afford sugar if they tightened their belts a bit. A fortunate thing indeed.
'Adding sugar and stirring starts denaturing the egg whites structurally.'
I kept whisking.
The albumin proteins in the whites unraveled their tight chains under physical force.
Those strands wrapped around air bubbles to form foam, and the sugar locked that structure in place, preventing collapse.
'To these people, it's just foam. But it's physically rearranging the molecular structure of ingredients.'
In the modern world, it'd be grandly called "molecular gastronomy." No such concept here, of course.
They'd be shocked by pearl ice cream, nitrogen-sprayed mousse sauces, or cucumber caviar.
Once my sauce business boomed and people got into cooking, they'd taste this stuff sooner than expected.
With those pleasant thoughts, I loaded the finished meringue batter into a piping bag and squeezed uniform shapes onto parchment-lined baking sheets.
The batter was so stiff that the peaks stood defiantly against gravity even after piping.
"First, into the oven..."
"......"
Iris tracked every moment with those violet eyes—from piping the batter to sliding it into the hot oven—like she wouldn't miss a thing.
Would be nice if she'd say something, but just staring like that made me feel queasy.
As I awkwardly pulled the finished meringue cookies from the oven, it happened.
"Jonathan! It's me, Edelin! Open the door!"
The silence shattered with a bright, cheerful voice from outside the kitchen... or rather, the alchemy workshop.
Ignoring the secretary's protests, the door flew open, and in strode a girl with chestnut-colored roll-bun hair.
A young lady recognizable from afar just by her confident gait.
"Edelin? What brings you here?"
"What do you mean? You were so busy you never showed your face, so I barged in! Seriously, I've been writing letters saying I'd visit for weeks, and all I got back was 'busy, later'!"
Ah, right.
Between meeting mayonnaise deadlines and handling eggs, I'd been swamped.
"Anyway, I wanted to apologize face-to-face again, and check out the new territory while I was at it!"
Edelin Merenes. Despite her brother's mess giving her every reason to hate me publicly or privately, her signature cheerfulness and boldness were undimmed.
"Uh, about your brother—"
"No need to apologize. You were the victim from the start. That idiot just got what he deserved for his stupidity. Sorry it dragged you into it because of him. Really sorry."
Edelin waved it off, cutting the brother talk short.
Her straightforward attitude relieved me, though guilt lingered too.
Unaware or not of my feelings, her eyes soon drifted to the counter and oven.
A sweet aroma was piercing the air from the oven.
"Anyway, what's this? Smells insanely sweet!"
"Ah, about time."
I donned thick gloves and pulled out the hot baking sheet.
The snowy batter had transformed into golden, appetizing treats under the oven's heat.
Vanilla and sugar baked into a disarming fragrance that filled the workshop.
"Whoa... what is this? Like chunks of cloud!"
Edelin exclaimed first, reaching out. Still hot, but she grabbed a white cookie without care and popped it in her mouth.
"Ack...!"
Her eyes widened. A crisp 'crunch!' rang out, then the cookie melted away like cotton candy.
Only a pleasant sweetness and subtle egg flavor lingered on the tongue. No need to chew—a texture she'd never experienced.
"Wh-what is this?! It vanished the second it hit my mouth! Is this what eating clouds feels like? How can a cookie be this light?!"
Edelin's over-the-top reaction. Unladylike for a court count's daughter, perhaps.
Honest, free-spirited, and unpretentious.
"Ah, Jonathan. There you are. The documents from the palace—"
She'd already waltzed in with her usual affability, naturally snagging a meringue cookie and popping it in.
Erika entered the alchemy workshop with the imperial-stamped binder, freezing mid-step.
Her gaze hit Edelin happily munching the fresh cookies, then Iris leaning against the wall by the fireplace, arms crossed, observing impassively.
The heavy silence broke courtesy of the storm named Edelin.
"Oh, Erika! Perfect timing! Try this—it's amazing!"
Edelin grinned brazenly, grabbing Erika's hand, imperial documents be damned.
"Here, say ahh~! Jonathan just made it!"
Erika, flustered, took the meringue cookie Edelin shoved to her lips and bit. Urgent palace business forgotten for the moment.
"...!"
Her blue eyes widened in shock, just like Edelin's.
Erika touched her lips dazedly.
There'd been a crisp 'crunch' and chewing sensation moments ago.
But instantly, it melted like cotton candy, leaving only rich sweetness on the tongue.
"This... is a cookie...? But it's..."
A texture defying substance itself—her first.
If mayonnaise was a "texture revolution," this was "mass deception," like baked air.
Forgetting the binder in her hand, she looked at me with eyes full of wonder.
"Jonathan, how on earth...!"
Before her exclamation finished, Iris spoke.
"Protein denaturation."
Iris, silent observer till now, finally opened her mouth.
She approached the counter, dipped a finger in the leftover batter, and tasted it.
Her violet eyes behind the glasses pierced the meringue's essence.
"Physical agitation unravels the protein's three-dimensional chain structure, trapping air bubbles in between. Added sugar crystals then hinder rebonding, stabilizing the form, and low-heat oven evaporation completes the structure."
"...Spot on."
I answered, surprised. Iris's gaze shifted to Erika.
"You understood mayonnaise emulsification and this foaming the same way—not as phenomena, but structures."
Erika's eyes lit up at Iris's cool, expert analysis.
Wariness gone, replaced by joy at meeting a fellow intellectual.
"Emulsification! Yes! I wondered how lecithin molecules in egg yolks stabilize water and oil interfaces, the critical ratio for fusion...!"
"Ratio isn't the issue, Lady Argentis."
Iris cut in, but not with contempt—pure academic rebuttal.
"It's shear stress. Agitation speed and force determine fat globule size, dictating final texture. Different parameters from 'property fusion.'"
"No, the principle might be the same! Our family secret binds repelling mercury and sulfur via vibration frequency alone, no catalyst. Maybe that acts as shear stress...!"
The two alchemy masters dove into conversation.
Incomprehensible terms flew—"emulsification," "denaturation," "catalyst," "frequency"—but the mood was warm.
The heavy air weighing the workshop for two days vanished.
Watching, Edelin clapped delightedly, though clueless.
"Wow, no idea what you're saying, but you two click great! Why not chat sooner?!"
Edelin's innocent jab flushed Erika's cheeks.
"N-no! Lady Iris's view is fascinating! Shear stress as variable... never thought of that."
Iris adjusted her glasses with a pleased smile, replying to Erika.
"Not at all. Discussing the same phenomenon from different angles is valuable. Academia stagnates in silos. Must verify that vibration frequency."
I watched warmly.
Who knew the brash intruder Edelin would unwittingly lubricate the two geniuses.
"Anyway, enough meringue cookies for now..."
Sugar wasn't that cheap, so couldn't process everything into them. Especially as snacks.
So, reduce volume cheaply, boost utility.
'Evaporate the water from egg whites, powder the pure protein for easy storage, then block it.'
My second plan.
I fetched a bowl of liquid whites and poured thin layers onto wide, shallow metal trays.
"Huh? Jonathan, what's that?"
Edelin, having polished off a plate of meringues, peered over curiously.
"No foam like those cloud cookies. You baking it plain?"
"Not baking—low-heat drying. In a clean space free of germs or contaminants, of course."
I slid the trays into a large metal cabinet beside the counter.
"Low-heat? Won't it cook?"
"Nope. Evaporate moisture with air flow, not heat. Takes time, but..."
Before I finished, Iris—debate wrapped—approached the dryer. Her violet eyes scanned the cabinet.
"Inefficient."
One word. No permission asked, hand on the door.
"Principle: Force-circulate low-temp dry air to plummet moisture saturation. Implementation: Fourth-circle environmental magic, 'Arid Cyclone.'"
Faint violet light bloomed from her hand; dry, temperate wind swirled in the enclosed space.
"Um, Lady Iris?"
"Thirty minutes. No, twenty. The Tower tolerates no inefficiency."
Erika gawked at the magic, questioning in awe.
"Heavens! Environmental control magic! Used for humidity in alchemy labs—high-end stuff—and for drying eggs?!"
"Most efficient means to the result, Lady Argentis. Egg or rare ore—principle's the same."
Exactly twenty minutes later, Iris withdrew her hand; the wind died.
I cautiously opened the door—not hot, but arid dry air rushed out.
No soggy liquid whites; instead, brittle pale-yellow films like thin glass shards.
"Whoa... this the slimy stuff from before?"
Edelin poked a film; it 'cracked' crisply.
I gathered the shards, dumped them into a massive stone mortar, and pounded vigorously.
Crack, crunch, grind, grind.
The dried whites powdered fine instantly.
"This...?"
Erika, Iris, Edelin—all eyes on the mortar's fine pale-yellow dust.
Edelin sniffed.
"No smell. Nothing like those sweet cookies. Edible? Just powder?"
"Edible. But not plain."
I dipped a finger in the fine pale-yellow powder.
On the tongue: no flavor, just dry protein texture.
Erika's alchemist insight sparked.
"Jonathan, don't tell me... pure egg white, moisture fully removed?"
"Exactly. 'Egg white powder' or albumin powder."
"Ah...!"
She grasped its value instantly, no explanation needed.
"Shelf life! Logistics! No more wasting millions of whites! Right, Jonathan?"
"Heh, correct. As expected, Erika."
"Heehee."
As she leaned against me happily, Iris silently approached the mortar.
No exclamation like Erika; she pinched powder, rubbed it, sniffed, tasted the tip of her tongue. Her stoic violet eyes burned with intense curiosity.
"Moisture under 5%. Protein purity over 90%. Impurities negligible."
Iris met my eyes squarely.
"Dissolved in water, it foams or binds like fresh whites. But... not the goal."
"It's a nutritional supplement itself, right?"
She saw right through, as expected.
Satisfied smile at her question.
"Yes. If mayonnaise is luxury strategic for fat and flavor, this is survival rations."
"Light, non-perishable, mixes anywhere. Spoon in thin soup for life-extending nutrition; brick it for combat rations lasting years."
Edelin grimaced—"Powder... rations?"—averse to bland; Erika beamed, "Classic Jonathan!"
Seeing their reactions, I nodded contentedly.
Good. Egg white recycling solved; back to sauces.
I eyed the counter.
There sat proud jars: one tomato sauce, one fresh mayonnaise.
Tomato sauce and mayonnaise.
Common point: both "mother sauces."
Great alone, but bases for dozens, hundreds of derivatives.
I'd shown basics so far; now, myriad variations would awaken this world.
Flavor's diversity—and that they could craft it themselves.
The infinite world of derived sauces. Time to reveal true variety.
I smiled softly at the tomato sauce jar and mayonnaise bowl.