Chapter 5
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Flavor Acrobatics
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Colton, the owner of the Wild Rose Inn, was clueless about cooking, just like most men.
He knew how to make simple dishes, of course, but with his wife handling the kitchen entirely, he'd never felt the need to cook himself.
Even to him, the stew before his eyes was incredible. He could tell instinctively, even without tasting it yet.
Steam rose gently from the bowl, filling the air with a rich, savory aroma.
The smell alone was leagues beyond any ordinary stew he'd ever had.
'Let's give it a try...'
For some reason feeling reverent, Colton scooped up a spoonful of stew. The first thing to catch his eye was, naturally, the meat.
'?!'
The instant the spoon hit his mouth, Colton's eyes went wide.
The first sensation was a heavy, velvety texture melting softly across his tongue.
That sweet-salty magical broth assaulted his taste buds, jolting his mind awake. He barely noticed the heat.
Colton chewed the meat rolling in his mouth, his face dazed.
That very moment.
Like cracked earth bursting after soaking up long-awaited rain, the juices exploded forth. It was a mystical sensation he'd never experienced before.
The deep, meaty aroma unique to perfectly cooked beef clouded his sharpened senses once more.
"No way, the meat... the meat... I just chewed the meat, but this..."
He babbled incoherently, like some fool.
Damon, with no clue what was going on, simply tilted his head.
"What's wrong with the meat? It's not undercooked, is it?"
Argh, so frustrating!
But right now, with this heavenly morsel in his mouth, he couldn't bear to just swallow it without savoring more.
It was too precious to gulp down anyway. Delicious enough to chew forever and die happy.
Gulp!
Finally swallowing, Colton demanded urgently.
"How can meat be this tender? And the juices... what the hell is with this amount? They just gushed out when I bit down!"
He racked his brain for flowery words to capture the feeling, but they wouldn't come.
After all, he lacked even the basic education that took such refinements for granted. Sadly, that was the reality for most commoners in this era.
But he wasn't incapable of tasting it. Colton had just glimpsed paradise.
"Ah, that's..."
While Damon paused to find the right words, Colton stared holes through him.
Curiosity burned—what answer would this boy, suddenly like some Eastern sorcerer-scholar, give?
At last, Damon spoke.
"When searing the meat over high heat, the outside gets a nice crust. Then the wine seeps in, triggering velveting that tenderizes the meat and locks in even more juices."
Colton's gaze flicked to his wife Joanna. What the hell does that mean?
"You seared the meat to replace the lost juices with broth, right?"
"Spot on."
I see. So that's how it works.
He had no idea what the words meant, but sure, whatever.
To think it wasn't some spell...
As they pondered and reached for another scoop, Damon spoke up.
"Now try it with the potatoes and veggies. It'll taste even better."
They did.
Right then, Damon felt like a creator god conjuring from nothing—no hesitation. You don't defy divinity.
Haha.
Following the advice, Joanna took another spoonful, and mid-chew, she burst out laughing.
'What in the world?'
Fluffy potatoes.
Sweet onions.
Firm-yet-soft peas.
Soft-yet-firm mushrooms.
Melting carrots.
And...
"Where's this bittersweet note coming from?"
"Bittersweet? Probably the herbs I added at the end."
No, not quite.
The herbs did add subtle depth to the broth, but that wasn't it.
She'd called it bittersweet for lack of a better word, but it wasn't overpowering.
On the contrary, it cut through the meat's potential cloying richness, refreshing the palate.
In a word, perfection. The acrobatics of flawless harmony.
"Ah, then it's the celery."
"Celery?"
Joanna arched a brow.
'Celery gives this flavor? Seriously?'
She'd simmered beef stew countless times, yet celery had always been the odd one out.
Her recipe had been handed down from her mother, from her mother—but celery forever felt superfluous.
"Mom, celery's just bitter—why bother?"
She'd asked as a girl, only to get, "It looks pretty?"
'I always wondered why they insisted on this love-it-or-hate-it veggie.'
Some guests even recoiled at its aroma.
Still, it went in for appearances. Without it, the dish looked too sparse.
Green veggies make it a "proper" dish. That's what she'd believed—until this stew.
"One more thing."
"Shoot."
"What's this lingering aftertaste? Nothing you added explains it, no matter how I rack my brain."
She'd missed celery's twist, but this she knew for sure.
This addictive edge evoked the aphrodisiacs nobles whispered about in high society.
Commoner Joanna had never laid eyes on one, but it had to taste like this.
Irresistibly addictive. The flavor haunted your mouth, demanding another bite. If not an aphrodisiac, then what?
"Well, that's umami."
Damon grinned.
"The fond stuck to the pan—the oils and bits—gets sautéed with the veggies..."
"This is the 'burnt' taste?"
So that's why he skipped washing the pan before the veggies!
Clapping in realization, Joanna snapped back and mumbled sheepishly.
"...Sorry for cutting in. Got too excited."
"No worries."
Damon replied, stroking his chin.
"Burnt taste fits in a way, but seared bits on meat amp it up."
Especially here, where firewood's the norm. Smoky notes come standard.
"Wine tempers the bitterness and amps the umami further."
"Wine pulls so much weight..."
Joanna murmured low.
She'd figured the wine request meant boozy cooking.
Every word from Damon unveiled a new world.
"Damon, where'd you learn all this?"
Unable to contain herself any longer, she asked—just then.
Clink.
Ailin, dead silent through the meal save for spooning stew, quietly set her utensil down.
A reaction utterly opposite the duo's theatrics.
Her usual tomboy fire vanished; eyes gently shut, she evoked a solitary goddess in prayer.
'Doesn't suit her? Impossible.'
Girl or not, Ailin was a notorious glutton. Innkeeper's kid or no, never starved—yet her appetite raged fierce.
'Her sitting so serene?'
Damon eyed her curiously. Colton scowled deep, locking eyes with his wife.
Then.
"I've decided."
Ailin opened her eyes, gazing soulfully up at Damon. Puppy eyes, fixed on her master.
"Damon."
"Yeah?"
Before he finished, she bellowed.
"I love you! Marry me!"
A flat-out proposal, no holds barred.
Her parents registered it a beat late, jaws dropping.
"Wh-what...?"
Sudden "I love you."
Not enough? Throw in marriage too? For real?
'Ah.'
Come to think of it, classic Ailin. Totally her style.
In romance fantasies, rolling heroines come my-pace standard-equipped. Survival essential.
Bottom line: her quirky love language.
That fatal trait left characters heartsick. Sub-male-leads took most hits...
Issue is, she's oblivious she's a flag machine-gun.
But why me? Now?
"What nonsense is this kid spouting?"
"Ow! Why'd you hit me?!"
"Hmm..."
Parents' reactions split: Mom walloped her back; Dad hummed gravely.
Me?
Just baffled, like cold-water dumped mid-sentence.
'She scarfs it down fine, then drops this bomb?'
Stumped on escape from this mess—then.
"I didn't mishear that, right?!"
A man slammed up to the bar table, yelling.
Mid-twenties? Slim build.
"Ailin just proposed to Damon, yeah?"
He knows us both.
What now? I got nothing on him.
Weird having a familiar face in a stranger-packed inn.
And he heard the forbidden bit.
'Seriously, what do?'
I scratched my head instead of answering. Beats me. Your mess, Ailin.
'Wait, no.'
That'll escalate. Realizing too late, I opened my mouth—
"Listen up, Dillon! Damon's cooking is insane! Try this!"
"Big bro Dillon, huh? Wait, not the point. Damon cooks? So this mouthwatering smell...?"
"Shut it and eat!"
Ailin scooped from my stew with a fresh spoon and jammed it into Dillon's mouth.
*Twang!*
Sound effect for his face? Nailed it.
He even chewed with vocal flair.
"Hm? Hmm? Hm!"
Ailin grinned at Dillon's show, mischief full-bore.
"How's my man's cooking? Killer, right?"
"Mm-hmm!"
"Yup. So hype it up at the castle? Tell 'em our inn's slinging pricey, delicious grub."
My employment? Unexpectedly locked in.
But joy? Nah. Forehead in hand.
'This for real...?'