The Elf and the Supreme Meat
In this world, magic was an utterly indispensable element. Just as modern society couldn't be discussed without science and technology, this world couldn't be talked about without magic. The fusion of magic and technology—magitech engineering—had transformed people's lives. Mana lamps for exploring dark caves. Magitech lighters that could ignite a fire anywhere. Massive transport vehicles rumbling along rails, the magitech train. On the other hand, those who purely researched and wielded magic—the so-called mages—were obsessed solely with "power".
Wide-area flame magic that could incinerate thousands of monsters in an instant. Lightning magic that could deal fatal damage before the enemy could react. Intricate mana shields that could even block a dragon's breath, and so on. Most mage research focused on things like that.
But the direction I pursued was a little different. The fundamental reason I delved deeply into elemental magic was for cooking. This world lacked proper kitchen tools for cooking. Gas stoves, ovens, microwaves, sous-vide machines, dehydrators, refrigerators... My culinary knowledge was based on my previous life's modern world, so without those modern tools, it was hard to perform at my full potential.
That's when I turned my attention to magic. What if I researched ways to apply my overwhelming magical talent to cooking? While other mages focused on creating greater destructive power, I concentrated on manipulating mana in small, minute ways. Cooking could fail if the temperature deviated by even 1 or 2 degrees. So, for precise flame control to maintain perfect temperatures, I honed my mana control.
Once that became possible, I applied the same mana control to other elemental magics. The result? I could flash-freeze ingredients at temperatures close to liquid nitrogen, manipulate atmospheric pressure, or even adjust the aroma and sweetness of growing crops. In essence, I replicated the effects of modern kitchen tools entirely with magic.
And that was a completely different realm from conventional magic, which chased ever-larger mana pools and destructive force. The ability to break mana down to the particle level and wield it with precision. That was why I first gained fame as a grand mage—I'd formalized this mana manipulation technique.
The advantages of this method, which I named Meta Control, weren't limited to precision. Where a single fireball once required 100 mana, I could achieve the same power with just 10 by maximizing efficiency.
I'd only wanted to control all my magic with utmost precision for cooking, but somehow, I'd ended up revolutionizing magic's paradigm. And now, having received an absurd order from my old comrade, the elf knight Irit, I saw the perfect chance to test the fruits of all that effort.
A dish that used no meat but delivered the satisfaction of eating meat. The ultimate meat dish without any actual meat. In my previous life, I'd tried vegan foods. Not because I was a vegetarian, but chefs need diverse tasting experiences. Soy patties mimicking meat—what they called "soy meat." But from what I'd tasted, those fake meats always lacked something.
Compared to real meat, they had no savory aroma, no umami depth, no greasy richness from fat. Honestly, anyone who enjoyed real meat could tell right away it was fake.
Since my dish was the "ultimate meat dish without meat," there could be no compromises.
"Boss, all cleaned upooo."
Aris approached me as I laid out potential ingredient candidates on the cutting board, deep in thought. Holding the broom, she actually looked pretty fitting.
"You like meat?"
"Yeees?"
"Do you like meat?"
At my sudden question, Aris hemmed and hawed before answering.
"Yeah, I do. Yesterday's stew was delicious too..."
"Wanna try some other meat dishes?"
"Other dishes? If you give them to me, I'll gratefully eat! Oh, but money..."
"It's a test menu, so no charge. But don't just eat it—give me proper feedback afterward."
"Ah... Y-yeees!"
Never thought I'd end up asking a ghost for taste-testing. Sure, my palate was superior, but I needed an ordinary tester. I had no intention of telling Aris there was no meat in the dish. She had to eat it clueless, unaware it was meatless. Knowing in advance would bias her judgment, and I needed objectivity.
"Stay outside pulling weeds or whatever until I call you back in."
"Huh? I have to wait outside?"
"Yeah. I'll call you when it's done."
"O-okayyy..."
I shooed Aris out of the restaurant and began cooking in earnest. I planned three dishes: hambagu steak, dumplings, and sweet-and-sour pork. All were dishes where meat played a central role.
There was a reason I chose those three for testing. Steak was basically 90% meat. If the fake meat showed through even a little, it'd be obvious. Raw steak would be too hard to fake even for me, so I settled on hambagu steak, which was more feasible with substitutes.
Dumplings and sweet-and-sour pork, on the other hand, had ways to hide ingredients. Even if the fake meat was exposed in hambagu, it might pass in the others. In short, I'd ranked them by difficulty for faking real meat.
I intended to make all three and have Aris try them. First up: making the meat substitute. I decided to start with tofu from the sack full of soybeans.
I filled a large pot with water and soaked the beans. Normally, soaking takes over eight hours, but I had magic.
"Control Pressure!"
Piiiing— A blue glow of mana shone from my right hand. "Soaking" was ultimately water permeating the beans via osmosis. I used magic to adjust the water's pressure, accelerating osmosis so the beans absorbed water evenly. Then, I manipulated each water particle inside with mana, softening them more uniformly than traditional overnight soaking.
Just like that, the beans were prepped for tofu in seconds. I added them to the pot with precisely measured water.
"Grind!"
Paaaat— This spell pulverized the beans into fine paste, designed to replace modern blenders. Originally meant to shred enemies to bits, I'd toned it down with Meta Control for cooking.
Kagagagagak! The beans whirred into a frenzy, soy milk swirling violently in the pot.
Tak! Whoosh! I flicked my hand, igniting a flame spell under the pot—perfectly modulated, neither too fierce nor too weak. As the soy milk began to boil—
"Separate!"
I cast the separation spell. The okara clumps gathered into a single mass. With a sweep of my glowing right hand, it cleanly lifted out of the pot.
The soy milk simmered gently, free of residue. I lowered the flame and added nigari—pre-made from seawater. Salt water or vinegar works, but seawater nigari makes firmer tofu.
Now, stir gently, let it set, and silky tofu emerges. Press it in a mold to drain, and you get the firm tofu we know. Even making one block required all this. Without magic, a single day wouldn't suffice. This was why I'd rigorously researched magic for cooking: shorten the process, improve the results.
But the cooking was just beginning. My goal wasn't tofu—it was meatless hambagu steak, dumplings, and sweet-and-sour pork. I'd already planned how. All that remained was bringing the vision to life.
"Hmph... Hm-hmph... Hm-hmph..."
Meanwhile, the seaweed-ghost Aris was idling outside the shop. Humming, she admired the wildflowers, twirling like she was dancing. Klaus had told her to pull weeds, but the area was already spotless.
Inside, he was crafting a new test menu. Aris could hardly contain her curiosity about what it might be and how it'd taste.
"Hee-hee-hmph..."
She strolled slowly around the shop, humming. Ghosts could only materialize with intense desire toward something. But now, Klaus was using mana to anchor her form forcibly. She'd found it scary at first, but now she oddly liked it.
The shop wasn't busy, and she got delicious food. Eating extended her work period, but she didn't mind. She even wanted to stay as long as Klaus allowed.
"Hey, Aris! It's ready. Come in!"
The restaurant door opened, Klaus calling her.
"Yeees—!"
The test food must be done. Bursting with anticipation, Aris dashed inside.