It's Tasteless
It's Tasteless
Andrea.
An elf. A member of a long-lived race that walked the world for centuries.
The primordial species, the noble people whispered to be the most beloved of the gods.
Guardian of the World Tree.
Pioneer who ventured out of the elf forest in search of meat. Superb huntress.
The Huntress of Nella Forest.
Slayer of Orcs.
The list of titles adorning her was, befitting a life spanning over a hundred years, exceptionally long.
And at this moment, she was a server in a knight restaurant.
"W-Welcome... in. Ha. Ha. Ha."
Andrea greeted the guests with an awkward smile.
She still couldn't get the corners of her mouth to lift right.
"An elf..."
"Did this place always have an elf working here?"
"I heard she came in as a customer earlier today."
She let out an internal sigh as she watched the humans whisper and gawk at her.
The human gaze—so openly staring as if she were some exotic animal.
She'd experienced it more times than she could count, but that never made being on the receiving end any less irritating.
Hold it in.
If this had happened outside—
—Never seen an elf before? Such a predictably dull human reaction. How about you stop gawking at trivial things and go do your own work?
—she would have fired back.
If they crossed the line one step further?
She'd have made an example of them with the blade at her hip.
But not right now.
She pulled herself together under the gaze she felt from behind.
Lucas. As of today, her employer.
The man who had lent her a staggering two hundred gold.
And among every human she had ever met, the cook who made the most delicious food.
The satisfaction that washed over her every time she ate his cooking was anything but ordinary.
Just thinking about the mana-infused meat dishes made her mouth water.
Work ends, and then I eat dinner.
She swallowed her temper.
"I'll show you to your table... sir. Ha. Ha. Ha."
With a smile as crumpled as a cheap mask, Andrea guided the new guests to their seats.
"What would you like... sir?"
Her smile was stiff and her manner stilted, but the customers, taking in the beauty of the elf Andrea, just grinned like fools.
The Britten Territory was the empire's hinterlands.
A place so backwater it saw almost no outsiders—never mind elves, you'd be hard-pressed to spot an orc. To the farm boys who'd spent their whole lives in that countryside, Andrea's beauty felt like an angel's descended from another world.
"Wow..."
"..."
A farmer openly gaped at her, too stunned to answer the question.
Another customer kept stealing shy glances, unable to meet her eyes directly.
"Sir. What. Would. You. Like?"
Andrea's prodding at last snapped the farmer out of it.
"I'll have the Dubu Kimchi and two bottles of soju."
"Understood. Dubu Kimchi and soju..."
"Ahem!"
Andrea's keen ears caught the false cough from Lucas.
He was working the wok, and his eyes were clearly fixed on her.
Ah.
The employee training she'd received from him before the shift surfaced.
—Any day we've got a new menu item, you push it at least once. Plenty of people just don't know it exists. Make them think about what else we've got.
This was his way of saying: put the lesson to use.
"We do have a new dish—Kimchi Jeyuk—served together with tofu. Would that interest you... sir?"
Both men's eyes locked onto her.
"Kimchi Jeyuk?"
"What's that?"
"Stir-fried kimchi, the same kind served on the Dubu Kimchi, but with pork shoulder added... sir. It's an extra five silver, but the taste is... guaranteed."
"We'll take that, then."
"Thank... you."
Andrea had no way of knowing.
Those two would have said yes to any add-on she offered.
An elf. A beautiful one at that.
What man would turn down a recommendation from a stunning woman? They'd have ordered it even if it meant going into debt.
That was the whole point of hiring a beautiful server. It boosted sales like crazy.
She called out to Lucas.
"One Dubu-Kimchi-Jeyuk!"
Her enchanting voice rang through the restaurant. Every eye swiveled toward her.
"Okay!"
Tssssss!
Lucas threw the meat into the frying pan.
Fwoom!
A thin slick of oil hit the pan and his wok-work sent flames soaring.
"Whoa!"
"The hell was that?"
The fire erupting from the kitchen yanked everyone's attention at once.
Andrea was striking enough, sure—but the spectacle of Lucas working the wok and kicking up flames was more than enough to rob the rural folk of their senses.
Men who'd come to soothe the day's exhaustion with a drink.
Men already tipsy from their first glass.
Every one of them stared, dazed, at Lucas's fire show.
It looked like magic.
"Ain't the owner a knight?"
"Now he's doing magic too..."
"Damn."
It was a performance impossible for Lucas to pull off alone. Even for him, working the wok hard enough to make flames leap while serving customers was a feat of pure skill.
Lucas plated the Kimchi Jeyuk and tofu—smoky wok-breath infused through every bite—and handed it to Andrea.
"Take it to the customer. And don't you eat it."
"Wh-What do you take me for, some kind of glutton? As if I would!"
Caught red-handed, Andrea raised her voice for no good reason.
The customers weren't the only ones mesmerized by Lucas's fire show.
It was Andrea's first time, too, watching someone cook up close.
She'd seen it at lunch. That had been so... quiet.
Just frantic movement. Rushing. Hurrying.
She hadn't seen him set the pan aflame, hadn't seen the flames arc perfectly before dropping back in.
She hadn't known cooking could be this dazzling.
A flutter rose in her chest—the same flutter she'd felt when her mother first showed her magic. The same strange wonder she'd felt eating meat for the first time.
The feeling of encountering something unknown tapped lightly at her heart.
And then there was the scent. The savory richness of Kimchi Jeyuk filling the air.
Even though she'd already smelled it once, it still assailed her senses.
No—because she'd already tasted it. That only made her salivate even more.
The taste was known.
A taste she remembered all too clearly from lunch.
That looks amazing.
Her eyes and her nose were satisfied. Now she wanted to use her mouth.
And Lucas had called her on it. That was the only reason she'd gotten defensive.
"Looks delicious."
Andrea forced down the pooling saliva and held the Dubu-Kimchi-Jeyuk out to the guest.
"Your food... is served."
That was the beginning.
"Me too!"
"Dubu-Kimchi-Jeyuk, one here as well!"
"Over here—could we order too?"
The orders, set off by the fire show, started pouring in.
***
"Goodbye!"
The last customer walked out.
Lucas looked over at Andrea, who was washing dishes alongside him.
"You done over there?"
"The last bowl... sir."
Still awkward with formal speech, Andrea scrubbed the last bowl—squeak, squeak—in her rubber gloves.
The empire's revolutionary invention. Rubber gloves!
One of the few things that had already been invented before I recovered the memories of my original world. Thanks to these, I'd gotten through seven years as a cook knight without a single patch of housewife's eczema.
One of the very small number of things I was genuinely grateful to the original author for.
Andrea peeled off the rubber gloves, soaked through with water.
Work done, she turned to me.
"Do we have to work like this... every day?"
"Nah, not every day."
"That's a relief."
"We'll have two days off a month."
Andrea's relieved expression turned rigid.
"Truly?"
"A day off is a day of losses. You gotta grind, hustle, get more butts in seats."
These elves, I swear.
Maybe they lived too damn long—every one of them was way too leisurely.
Should I teach them the K-quick-quick spirit?
"Don't worry, though. You work hard, you'll get your meals and your pay. Properly."
Her face brightened, if only a little.
"So. What's for dinner?"
<chapter>
"Pick what you want. Want me to make bibimbap?"
Bibimbap was the first thing that came to mind simply because it was the easiest to make.
Just stir-fry the meat, mix it with leftover side dishes, rice, and gochujang, and you're done.
"The... I want the Kimchi-jeyuk."
"I'm out of tofu."
"It's fine. It's not the tofu I'm after...."
"Alright. White rice okay?"
Andrea nodded.
She'd been talking about Tuu ever since we first met, so I'd been thinking about a beef dish. I had some ribs left and was planning to grill them out back, but...
'She asked for it.'
So piling on the Pog meat wouldn't be a problem.
"We'll eat in the backyard. Set the table while I cook."
"Huh? The backyard?"
"Yeah. The view's great."
She hesitated.
"What?"
"Can't... Can't I set it up after I watch you cook?"
Watch me cook?
"Fine by me, but why? Didn't you get your fill of watching earlier?"
"I missed it while I was working."
"Alright. Take a break. We'll set it up together when I'm done."
I sprayed oil into the heated pan. The kimchi hit the oil and immediately sizzled—a sharp, bright crackle.
Sssss!
I gave the kimchi a quick toss, just long enough to coat the surface in a sheen of oil, then laid the meat on top.
The sound was deeply satisfying.
A crackling like rain pounding through a downpour.
"Hey, human—no. Boss."
"What now."
"Are you going to do that thing from earlier again?"
She was looking at me with open disappointment.
"Oh, so that's why you wanted to watch?"
"......."
Andrea didn't answer.
Nothing says "yes" quite like silence.
Nothing beats watching the flames while you rest, anyway.
"Fine. The fire-kissed flavor makes the meat better."
I gripped the frying pan with my left hand and held the stir-fry spatula in my right, shaking the pan with vigor.
The spatula kept things moving as I worked the pan forward and back.
The core of wok tossing isn't just about the flame-searing—it's about keeping everything inside the pan at all costs. A single splatter means a cleanup headache. And if kimchi juice splatters...
'No way.'
The whole point is controlling the force so the ingredients do their dance strictly inside the pan.
Which was exactly why I hadn't been doing any flashy tossing—until Andrea's request made me crank up the risk for a moment.
'She worked hard today.'
One show-off move on the house wouldn't hurt.
The pork fat caught fire, flames roaring up inside the pan.
"Whoa...."
A gasp of wonder from right beside me.
Every time the flames flared, the bridge of her nose twitched.
'Her reactions are fun.'
She looked like a kid at an amusement park.
When I finally stopped tossing, Andrea stared at the pan with open regret.
"Is it... over?"
"Any more and it burns."
"Ah... that's a shame."
"Now let's set the table."
"Yes, alright."
She moved fast.
Definitely an elf. One shift and she was already that quick. Aside from being awkward with people, she was actually pretty competent.
'Train her right and she'll be useful.'
A ten-month contract employee, but it looked like things would be smooth sailing for a while.
I loaded the finished Kimchi-jeyuk, the side dishes, and the rice onto a tray, then opened the door to the backyard.
"This is the backyard?"
"Yeah. The scenery's incredible."
The scenic spot that even hooked Lancelot! Drumroll, please.
Andrea's jaw dropped the moment she followed me out.
The backyard was glittering, even at night, dotted with night-blooming lanterns. I walked past the small kitchen garden toward the table with the sweeping view.
"Wow...."
The prime seat overlooking the viscountcy's wide-open landscape.
Though the sun had long set, the plains held a faint glow—fireflies, their tails shimmering across the grass. Beyond them, the viscountcy's paths were visible between scattered torches, lending the scene a strange, quiet elegance. The low chorus of frogs and insects filled the air.
This was why I'd chosen this spot to open the restaurant.
Watching Andrea stare in admiration, I couldn't help puffing up my chest.
'Hell yeah, that's the stuff.'
I set the dishes on the table and took the seat with the best view. "Well?"
"It's... nice. Really nice...."
She was so mesmerized by the scenery that she dropped the polite speech entirely.
"Let's eat. It'll get cold."
"Ah—thank you for the food."
The Kimchi-jeyuk, especially heavy with that fire-kissed flavor, was even better than I'd expected. Maybe the view had something to do with it.
***
The Imperial Princess's Knight Order barracks in the capital reeked, as ever, of sweat from the morning drill.
"Whew, I'm beat. Hey, Ethan—what's today's menu?"
"Allow me to announce the menu! Today we have fried croaker, cream risotto, and Doenjang-guk—that is all!"
"That crap soup again?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Oh, for fuck's—why does it keep showing up lately?"
The moment he heard the menu, senior knight Depo's strength left him.
Doenjang-guk.
For the knights, the dish was basically hell on earth.
Not because Doenjang-guk itself was inherently bad. No—the Doenjang-guk they served now was just flat-out awful.
Back when Lucas was the cook knight, it had been good. Opinions were split, but the majority actually liked it. Lucas's cooking was something else entirely. If you asked anyone in the Princess's Knight Order, you'd get the exact same answer: Lucas wasn't a sword master—he was a cooking master, and that ranked way higher.
Of course, nobody realized it while he was still here.
Who could've guessed that losing him would make this much of a difference?
After seven years of his food, most knights had simply taken Lucas's cooking for granted. They say you don't know what you've got until it's gone. Same went for the knights.
"Even the Doenjang-guk was good when Lucas was around," Depo muttered.
He sighed, remembering the time he'd run into Lucas in the kitchen.
—Doenjang-guk? Are you screwing with me?
—Just try it. Everyone calls it crap soup, but they always liked it.
Months ago, he'd been completely hooked on that distinctive deep flavor. Unlike Kimchi stew, it had never caught on with the nobles because of how it looked—but plenty of knights had loved it.
—The head of the Golden Wagon likes an even richer Doenjang-jjigae, you know?
Depo could still see Lucas's smirk so clearly.
"Even those Imperial Guard bastards don't come by anymore," someone grumbled.
"You said it. Those were the guys who abused their authority to raid our mess hall in the first place."
"Good riddance, honestly. Mealtimes always got pushed back because of them. That's why Lucas kept dragging the apprentices off."
The complaints around the table were loud.
Why should we have to suffer just because of the Imperial Guards?
But what could they do? They were the emperor's own knights.
"But I heard the new cook was supposed to be some contest champion," someone said.
"Yeah, didn't they call him the best cook in the empire?"
"Then why...?"
"Beats me."
Supposedly, before he left, Lucas had written down the recipes for the dishes the knights liked—Kimchi stew and the rest—and left them behind.
—The kimchi from the kimjang batch is over here, and you can use the leftover doenjang for this. The rest of the ingredients are here. I'll leave the recipes, so if you ever think of it, give it a try.
That was probably why one of them turned up on the menu every single day.
But the flavor wasn't there.
The taste Lucas used to coax out of his cooking—it just wasn't there.
The Kimchi stew had come close, for a while. But that had been missing from the menu for some time now, too.
"I fucking miss Lucas."
"Commander Luke—why did he let Senior Lucas go in the first place?"
"Hell if I know... I heard Lucas wanted to leave. What were they supposed to do?"
"Did Her Highness agree to it?"
"Who knows? I heard he bolted when she was away."
The dissatisfaction with the menu was steadily piling up.
And that included—
"It's not good."
—Princess Diana herself.