The Elf and the Supreme Meat Dish
Misikdang Slow, my gourmet restaurant, starts its mornings by flipping over the open sign hanging by the door. Customers might show up once a week, if that, but we prepare to greet them every day anyway. I water the herb pots on the rooftop, check the ingredients, and then enjoy the leisure until someone arrives.
"Wipe the tables one more time."
"Ehhh? But I cleaned them less than an hour agooo?"
"No customers means nothing to do. Might as well earn your keep."
"Uuuu...."
The ghost girl Aris, with her seaweed-like hair dripping water, picked up the rag and started wiping the tables again. I'd hired her on a temporary basis as a waitress, but with no customers, there wasn't much to assign her.
"Maybe I should hand out flyers in the city...."
I muttered to myself, sitting on a wooden chair in the kitchen and chewing on dried herbs like gum. It had been a year since I opened the restaurant doors. The total number of visitors still hadn't cracked a hundred.
"Nah, one wrong promo and it'd be a mess...."
Anyone could see it was a failing restaurant, but there were reasons for running it this way. In my previous life, the restaurant where I was head chef had been too busy. Reservations packed solid every day, crowds pouring in. No days off, working over twelve hours straight in a insane grind. I'd started cooking because I loved it, but somewhere along the way, the joy vanished.
So in this world, I wanted a restaurant with few customers. That's why I'd saved up during fifteen years as an adventurer. Places like this were basically hobby spots that burned through cash.
While I was bored and pondering what pointless task to give ghost Aris next—
Tinkle— tinkle—
The bell above the door rang as it swung open.
"Klaus! I'm here!"
Damn, not a customer. Just someone I knew. A blonde elf girl in knight's armor. Well, "girl" was a stretch given her age.
"Why're you here again? I told you, I'm not rejoining any party."
Irit the elf knight. We'd been in the same adventuring party back in the day. When I announced my retirement to open a restaurant, she'd bawled her eyes out trying to stop me. Over five hundred years old, but personality-wise, you'd swear she'd shoved her maturity up her ass.
Even after I retired and started this place, Irit kept showing up. Her goal was singular: drag me back into adventuring. I'd refused flat-out every time, but she persisted.
"Ehhh~ That's cold. Even friends are customers once they're inside, right? How's a guest supposed to feel if you ask why they're here?"
"I know you're not a real customer."
"Aha~ No wonder you have zero business, being so stingy."
"I'm plenty nice to actual customers."
Irit sauntered in like she owned the place and claimed a table.
"So, what's with her?"
She pointed at Aris with one finger, still seated.
"Her?"
"Yeah, her. That seaweed-looking kid. New kink?"
"She's the waitress."
"She seems... off...."
A flicker of wariness crossed Irit's face. Couldn't fool a veteran elf knight's eyes, huh. She'd clocked Aris as not quite human right away.
"Yeah, she's a ghost. Caught her dine-and-dashing, so now she works here."
"H-H-Hello...."
Aris shuffled over to Irit and bowed awkwardly. Water dripped from her seaweed hair, vanishing the instant it hit the table.
"...You're gonna scare off what few customers we get."
"Uuu... S-S-Sorryyy...."
Aris bowed her head in apology at Irit's words. Was employing a ghost really that weird? She wasn't ugly—kinda cute, even.
"You're the same as ever, Klaus."
Irit propped her chin on her hand, gazing at me.
"What is?"
"That weird personality."
"Look who's talking."
"Back in the party, you'd hack meat off any new monster you saw, cook it right there because you 'had to try it.' Now you open a restaurant and catch ghosts for staff? Can't get weirder than that."
"If you've got nothing better to do, leave. No matter what you say, I'm not coming back to the party."
I knew exactly why she was here. If she was just gonna nag, better send her packing quick.
But Irit shook her head.
"Nah, not leaving today. I'm a customer, remember? You don't turn away old comrades?"
"Customers order properly."
"I will. But I don't want anything ordinary."
I studied her expression again. She seemed serious about being a customer today.
"Aris, take the order."
"Ah... Huh? Y-Yes! I'll... t-take your order!"
Irit shot Aris an incredulous look, then turned back to me.
"What I want is... the finest meat dish you can make."
"You're messing with me."
"Dead serious."
I sighed heavily at her order. She was a five-hundred-year-old elf. And elves in this world didn't eat meat.
"Even a stray dog could tell you're an elf. Never heard of one craving meat."
"But I really want to try it. Always wondered what it feels like when you lot devour it like it's the world's greatest delicacy. I want that same satisfaction."
She should've quit teasing by now, but her face was dead serious. Did she actually want meat?
"...."
I mulled it over. I knew exactly why elves avoided meat. Or rather, they could eat it but chose not to. As nature's friends, they sensed meat's gaminess dozens, hundreds of times more intensely than normal people.
Once during our adventuring days, we'd all gathered for roast lamb legs. Irit was there too, and out of curiosity took a bite—then puked it right up. Never saw her touch meat again before I retired.
Yet here she was, first order: the finest meat dish.
"What's wrong? Can't handle it at your fancy grand mage restaurant? The one you ditched everything for?"
Irit smirked, like she was taunting the guy who'd abandoned his comrades. But she didn't know the resolve behind this place.
Fine. Challenge accepted.
"Alright. But not today—come back in three days."
After Irit left, no other customers showed until closing. Aris must've wiped the tables ten times today. Couldn't just let her slack; had to give her work to make it meaningful.
"Um...."
Aris fidgeted, water dripping from her hair, looking like she wanted to say something.
"What?"
"Wh-What should I call you?"
"Me?"
"Yeees...."
"Whatever. Long as it's not some insult."
"Th-Then... M-Master...?"
"Sure. Go water the rooftop pots."
I handed her the watering can. She wasn't much help, but since she was staff, I made her do what I could. Plus, she was cute enough to look at—good for passing time.
Still, the finest meat dish for a vegetarian elf.... No matter how I spun it, it felt like a prank. But I'd accepted the order, so I had to get serious.
She hadn't specified the cut or style—just "the finest meat dish." Left ingredients and method entirely to me.
Problem was, I couldn't use actual meat. Elves were wired to reject it.
There were ways to mask gaminess or meaty scents, but those were for normal folks. Elves sensed it hundreds of times sharper. They'd detect a speck in a vat of soup.
No way around it—meat was out.
'I really want to try it. Always wondered.'
'What it feels like when you devour meat like it's the best thing ever.'
'I want that same satisfaction.'
Her words echoed. A restaurant's job was satisfying the customer. She'd ordered the finest meat dish. But maybe what she craved was the feeling of devouring delicious meat.
Back in our adventuring days, we'd shared countless meals—heavy on the meat. She'd watch us from afar, eating her veggies. We loved meat too much to go full veggie for her sake.
Something clicked from my past life. People like Irit were called "vegans." Strict vegetarians. But ironically, there were "vegan" foods mimicking meat: vegan burgers, steaks, dumplings. Popular even among vegans who wanted that meaty hit without the real thing.
Maybe Irit's desire was just like that.
"M-Master...! All watered! Comiiing dooown!"
Aris clomped down the stairs as I sorted my thoughts.
"Good. That's it for today. Nice work. Nine more days like this and you're free."
"Um...."
"What?"
"T-Today's meal... um...."
She twisted her body shyly.
Meal? You're a ghost—you don't even need to eat.
"I wanna have that stew set from before agaaain...."
"...."
"...C-Can I?"
That stew set hooked her hard, huh. But I wasn't feeding her for free.
"Eat it, and your work here extends ten days. Cool?"
Aris didn't hesitate.
"...Yes. Still want it."
You're planning to camp out here forever, aren't you....