Chapter 3
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: This Is a Bit Unexpected
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This is a bit unexpected.
The lady asked.
Since I didn't know her name, I'd just keep calling her that for now.
"You know how to make beef stew, right?"
Beef stew. Of course I knew it.
It wasn't that difficult a dish. Simply put, it was a Western-style stew—just meat and vegetables simmered in broth.
Like how some people put zucchini in miso stew and others use butternut squash, simple dishes had all sorts of recipes.
So for now, I'd just observe.
"I know how, but I've never made it in a pot this big. Could you show me once?"
Even for someone who prided themselves on home cooking, large batches were tough.
The biggest reason? Seasoning was way harder.
There were scientific reasons like surface area, but no need to explain that.
Let's just say school lunch ladies and army cooks were amazing and move on.
"Sure. But don't expect me to go slow. Like I said, we're busy."
"Got it."
The beef was already seared. That must've been the smell teasing my nose before I came in.
But...
'Huh?'
I watched with near-heartbreak as the lady tossed the pan she'd seared the meat in into the dish bin.
'That precious thing...!'
Did she see my face?
"What? You begged to come into the kitchen, but hate getting your hands wet?"
Ah, no. That's not it...
I just bit my lip tight. No reason to kill the mood with unsolicited advice right now.
"No, ma'am..."
The lady snorted and got back to cooking.
First, she dumped finely chopped white vegetables into the pot.
Next, finely chopped green ones. Then diced orange-yellow veggies. Finally, yellow ones chopped just enough to show the cloves.
"You know what these are?"
The lady stirred the sauce with a ladle as she asked. It was a thick, red seasoning.
"Tomato paste?"
I wasn't sure if they called it tomato here. I just said it. She'd correct me if wrong.
But surprisingly, the lady just nodded without a word.
Huh?
Then...
"The veggies you just added—onion, celery, carrot, garlic?"
"Yeah. You know more than you look, probably from all those mountain trips. Deborah teach you well?"
Oh ho. New info.
Ingredients looked unique here, but names were the same.
Poor imagination and description from the original author. Lucky for me, though.
But aunty, why are you diluting the tomato paste with water?
I nearly yelped in shock. She gave me a weird look and said,
"What? This way the seasoning melts in better."
True, but...
Unable to hide my confusion, I realized again that cooking basics weren't established here and finally calmed down.
Even in my old world, recipes weren't researched and standardized until modern times. Made sense.
'Looks like my knowledge will come in handy.'
My lips curled up.
I could picture my future opening new horizons in cooking here. Any challenge would be hailed as innovative.
And it'd succeed for sure.
No way to fail.
"I'm pouring it here so you can see. Normally, you chop veggies and toss 'em straight into the broth."
Of course. Not surprising anymore.
I calmly watched her dump bright red broth onto raw veggies.
Sorry, ma'am, but now I get why protagonists in medieval fantasy stories gripe about inn food being barely edible.
Not counting mass-produced light novels, where it's pure fantasy.
Bubble bubble.
Soon the pot boiled, and she added the pre-seared meat. Then asked,
"Know why I added the veggies separately?"
"Boil meat from the start and it gets tough?"
"You do know."
The lady looked at me with genuine surprise.
It was the answer she wanted, but sadly, only half right.
Long boils toughen meat but extract flavor for better broth.
Of course, ways to prevent toughening were developed and standardized long ago—by food science nerds in modern times.
"Potatoes?"
"Yeah."
Carbs are essential.
They say you can skip meat but not carbs.
Plus, potatoes were a staple crop. Best ingredient in uncivilized medieval times.
"Now just season it and done."
The lady sprinkled white and black powders—'roughly.' Salt and pepper, probably.
At least those two existed. Lucky.
They were once worth more than money. Honestly, just those two were enough for basic seasoning.
But no flavor boost...
"Ah."
Suddenly, the lady clapped like she'd remembered something.
"Since you're here, wanna top it with this for a special touch?"
She sprinkled ground plants over the finished stew.
Oh, even decoration?
That surprised me.
"Thyme? Rosemary?"
"...Just herbs. Don't know the name. That's how they do it in the castle."
Aha.
So castle and village food culture had exactly that gap.
"Mind if I smell it?"
"This?"
The lady held out the bowl of ground plants.
Sniff sniff. My eyes widened at the unexpected scent.
'Pennyroyal?'
Standard name: Agastache rugosa. A perennial herb like mint.
"Know what it is?"
"Hmm... like mint?"
"Mint...?"
"Yeah. Mint."
"Dunno."
Hmm, no mint here either. Castle folk might know.
New goal set.
'Earn some money in the village first, then move to the castle.'
Then.
"Damon. Why not work at the apothecary instead? You seem to know your herbs..."
"Pardon?"
"Think about it. You've got talent. Hans couldn't tell trees apart at your age—always got scolded by his dad."
Unexpected fact.
Sadly, this body's dad wasn't the sharpest.
"Honestly, apothecary pays better. And their youngest daughter, Cynthia, is pretty nice."
Why do husband and wife keep bringing up daughters?
And Cynthia? No idea who that is. Don't care.
My interest was cooking. Only cooking.
"Ahem."
A fake cough made me turn to the entrance.
The innkeeper was glaring at his wife disapprovingly.
"You're so busy, yet chatting nonsense with the kid?"
"Nonsense? It's practical advice."
"Whatever. Done? Come out. Guests are waiting."
"Bossy much? Not even helping."
"What?"
As the classic couple spat started, I jumped in to mediate.
"How many servings is this?"
"...Huh? Oh. Thirty."
Thirty servings. More than expected.
Not the amount, but the number of bowls.
Meaning very small portions per person.
Makes sense. Meals were secondary to lodging—no need for generosity.
That's why it was so half-assed. 'We're even serving it' mindset.
Good no stupid 'customer is king' culture.
"Here. Let me help."
"Thanks. Haven't eaten yet?"
Feels like they'll say eat here...
Whatever.
Dad would fend for himself, so permission was given.
"I'll save some for you. Eat before you go."
As expected.
But not appealing.
Not appetizing at all.
"Thanks, but if it's okay..."
"?"
"Can I try making it?"
"Huh?"
The lady chuckled with a 'this kid' look.
"You told me to earlier. Let me treat you both."
"This is our kitchen."
"Yes. But who knows? Maybe that 'our' includes me?"
Hahaha.
Hearty laughter from behind. The innkeeper, who'd been nagging, now grinned satisfied.
"Definitely intriguing. Confident in your cooking, huh."
And so, serving first, then I'd cook. Deal done.
'I'll blow your minds.'
I was confident.
But first, finish serving.
"Enjoy."
"Yep, thanks."
I was distributing the bowls from the lady to tables.
Creeeak. Door opened, someone entered.
"Ugh. That glutton shows up right at mealtime like a ghost."
Not a guest, from the semi-affectionate nickname. Curiosity drew my eyes to the door.
'!'
I froze on the spot when I saw her face.
The girl with charming curly brown hair didn't suit "glutton" at all.
Her looks were miles away. Plain clothes, but her beauty shone. The dingy inn vibe flipped instantly.
Not just me—every guy in the hall couldn't look away.
"Daddy, hungry! Food!"
Ignoring the stares, the bubbly girl strutted to the counter.
"Ask your mom."
"Then Mom, food!"
"No. Dinner duty's someone else today."
Both parents nodded at me, and the red-haired beauty's eyes widened.
"Huh? Damon? Why're you here?"
Seeing her innocent smile, I mumbled half-dazed.
"A-Ailin..."
She's their daughter?
'Come to think of it, yeah...'
Forgot. Too long since reading the original novel.
...This is a bit unexpected.