Frau's First Taste of Topliya
Today was the day Frau was coming to try her first bowl of Topliya. I'd prepared all the ingredients based on the recipe I dug up from the basement. Ingredients from the Northern Continent are hard to come by, but if you head into the city and hit up a bigger market, you can snag them for a premium. Thanks to that, the material costs alone rivaled a fancy high-end dish, turning Topliya into something with zero cost-performance value. Whatever—Frau was footing a million ree, so price wasn't an issue.
What mattered was whether I could recreate the nostalgic taste she craved. Truth be told, I'd already whipped up a test bowl yesterday and tried it myself. It was my first time making Topliya, but I had to taste it first and confirm the recipe was solid before serving it to a customer. The flavor of the Topliya I made exactly to spec was... a meat stew with an incredibly distinctive aroma.
I even had Aris give it a try, but even she—who'd eat anything—found the unfamiliar taste noteworthy enough to leave this review.
The source of that mysterious flavor was the spices. Come to think of it, my previous life had plenty of dishes like this—the so-called "exotic" tastes. The cumin stench wafting from a lamb skewer joint. The cumin aroma from an Indian curry house. The intense cilantro punch in Southeast Asian fare. Food evolves differently by region, so the spices they favor create wildly divergent styles.
The Northern Continent was no different. Far from the Royal Capital, it developed its own unique food culture, with different spices and slight variations in meats and veggies. The spices in Topliya had a bold, pungent aroma not commonly used here. Just like how some people gag at their first whiff of cumin, cilantro, or Sichuan peppercorns, these spices were the love-it-or-hate-it type on a first encounter.
Didn't quite click for Aris, but for me—with no biases against spices—it was pretty addictive. A thick stew of beef bones simmered into a rich broth, loaded with tomatoes, spices, and salt. Paired with tender, well-seasoned meat and that warm, exotic-scented broth, it felt like it could thaw even the most frozen guts in no time.
Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling. Around lunchtime, the shop door swung open right on schedule, and in walked Frau, bundled head to toe in winter furs that had no business in this weather.
"W-Welcomeee! Let me show you to your seat!"
The seaweed-ghost Aris guided Frau to her prepared spot—a counter seat with a full view of the kitchen. As soon as Frau sat, I kicked off the Topliya prep.
"Just a sec. I pre-simmered it, so a quick reheat and it's good to go."
"...Like I said before, Master's Topliya had a special flavor."
"I know. That's why we need this test run. No matter how unique her recipe was, it had to be a variation on basic Topliya."
Beloved home-style dishes like this always had tons of variations. Hell, even the same cook in the same home might tweak it every time—home cooking doesn't measure precisely. I knew perfectly replicating Frau's master's Topliya was impossible. But nailing the ingredients, cooking method, and overall vibe? That'd be enough. She'd recall her master's dish just from that.
"Here you go—the canonical Topliya."
I served up a deep bowl brimming with thick, steaming stew, plated neat as could be. Steam curled up invitingly from the dark red broth. Frau stared silently at it. How different was this from the master's version in her memory? Her tasting notes would tell me.
"...Urk."
Frau lifted a spoonful toward her mouth but froze midway, her brow furrowing.
"What's wrong? Something way off?"
"Unpleasant smell."
"Master's Topliya didn't smell like that?"
"No. Hers smelled totally different."
Trouble right out the gate. Different smell meant different spices.
"Still, taste it carefully and tell me every way it differs from Master's."
"...Okay."
Frau took a deep breath, then scooped up some stew with a chunk of meat and ate. Nom nom nom... Eyes closed, savoring it. But her pinched brow screamed "not it."
"...So?"
"Dunno how to put it. But this is definitely not the same dish."
"Hmm..."
She wasn't a food pro, so her descriptions had limits. I pondered, then rephrased to draw out what I needed.
"How about meat size, ingredients, tenderness?"
"Looks about the same. Tenderness... softer than I remember."
"What did your memory's Topliya smell like? Sour? Sharp? Sweet?"
Frau rolled her eyes upward, digging through memories, then answered.
"...Spicy smell."
"Spicy?"
"Yeah. And it was super spicy going down."
Totally unexpected. The recipe I'd found had zero spicy ingredients. Calling them the same Topliya when ingredients and flavor diverged that much felt absurd. The book version was defined by those unique spices—a homey dish. If only the meat and veggies matched but everything else differed... was it really Topliya?
Suddenly, I got why Frau couldn't find her master's taste anywhere.
"Why'd you call what you ate Topliya?"
"'Cause Master did."
"Standard Topliya isn't spicy."
"That's why hers was special. For the record, this has zero similarity to what I remember."
Frau set down her spoon. Not just different—it straight-up didn't suit her palate. I pressed for more clues.
"You said ingredients and looks were similar, right? Did your Topliya taste like tomato?"
"Hm... Did it? Not sure. Probably no tomatoes. Maybe a bit."
"Classic Topliya gets its color from tomatoes. You'd taste it."
"I'm telling you what I remember."
Frau glared, fed up with the questioning.
"Can you really recreate Master's Topliya? Like I said, once that meat-thawing ice melts, no second chances."
"Hm..."
I ignored the threat and sank into thought. My Topliya only matched her master's visually... flavor and aroma were miles off. Similar looks? Stews are red anyway. No tomato taste. And she remembered it as just "spicy" instead of the spice bouquet.
...Only one possibility.
"Frau, Master's Topliya was spicy, right? What kind of spicy?"
"What kind? Spicy's spicy."
"Let me rephrase. The kind that warms your gut and builds hotter with each bite? Or a short, sharp punch? Or tongue-numbing burn?"
"Does that matter?"
"Yes."
"Warms the gut... builds hotter as you eat."
Capsaicin-style heat. I had a hunch why her Topliya was red without tomato flavor. That heat type? I knew it better than anyone—grew up in a land where I chomped fresh green chilies and chili paste straight. Problem was, this world wasn't my past life. I'd pinned the heat type, but the source ingredient needed more digging.
"Alright, head home. Wait for my next messenger bird."
"...I'd prefer Master's Topliya ASAP."
"Your tasting today was a huge help. Bear with me a bit longer."
Frau eyed me skeptically but nodded quietly.
"Um... not finishing that?"
As Frau prepped to leave, Aris piped up.
"...Not my taste."
"Can I have the rest thennn?"
"Do what you want."
Frau replied curtly and headed out.
"Didn't you call this 'mysterious' before?"
I asked Aris as she plopped down to devour the leftovers.
"The weird smell threw me off at first... but now I can't stop thinking about it."
"..."
Aris sat in Frau's spot and eagerly shoveled the remaining Topliya.