The Feast at Last
"I ate a meal."
"Hooouu……."
Everything was finally ready.
How much time had I spent, all for the sake of a proper meal? My stomach was shouting for food right this instant, but I endured it.
I wanted the best meal possible.
I had let a slab of meat marinate in the cool cave for an entire day after salting it.
Meat was not the same as fish. You didn’t eat it right after butchering, because it was tough.
I’d once seen a cooking video explaining that aging made meat more tender, and also improved the flavor.
At home, meat was aged in a cold refrigerator, and the cave I lived in was cold enough to compare.
The deepest part of the cave was practically a freezer.
I should use this place as a refrigerator later, after I move out.
Honestly, sleeping on a cold floor was a little much.
How should I put it? It always felt like something was catching at my shoulder.
It wasn’t a serious problem.
Still, the shape of it was awkward, and it didn’t feel especially nice.
I was a modern person who knew the soft touch of a fluffy mattress.
Every time I slept on the ground, it felt as if the human dignity nestled in my chest was taking damage.
I really should make myself a proper bed soon.
With those thoughts in mind, I gathered up the enormous meat wrapped in leaves along with the rest of the ingredients.
Even after removing the bones and innards, the meat was still heavy.
Careful. Don’t drop it.
It was nighttime now.
Taking care not to stumble, I carried the armful of ingredients to the riverbank.
There, a cauldron, its stand, a pile of firewood, a table, and even the cyclops’s kitchen knife and a handmade cutting board were all waiting.
I had set everything up myself while the meat was aging.
The cave didn’t seem like a good place to get rid of cooking smells. I didn’t want to go to sleep in the inner room—of course, I didn’t actually have one—breathing in the smell of pork belly.
Besides, it wasn’t as if some weirdo was going to steal all these large items anyway.
It would be better to set up the riverbank like a kitchen and use it that way.
And if the water’s this close, dishwashing will be ridiculously easy.
I stuffed firewood under the cauldron stand and breathed out a burst of flame to ignite it.
The wood crackled and blazed up. Definitely a reliable performance.
I set the freshly scrubbed cauldron lid on top, then rubbed the stored fat from the meat prep across its surface like cooking oil.
The lid had a wider surface than the cauldron itself, so it was better suited for grilling meat.
In that case, let’s go all in on cauldron-lid pork belly vibes.
I laid the meat out on the wooden cutting board.
For the record, I had made this board myself.
The tree I had taken from the forest where I’d met the elves had been as large as my body.
There had been plenty left even after I grilled fish over it, so I had cut off about a third of it to make the board.
Working the wood had been harder than I expected, but not impossible.
My scales were far harder than the wood, after all.
Using my scales like a whetstone, I ground the surface smooth with a grating rasp, then finished it off neatly with my claws until it looked pretty decent.
I wiped the meat with dry leaves.
The surface felt damp, which meant the aging had worked.
After that, I cut it into five pieces.
I left only one portion out and wrapped the rest back up in freshly washed leaves.
I really want a proper airtight container.
It wasn’t exactly sealed, but I couldn’t just leave it lying on the cave floor either.
Wrapping it in leaves was the best I could do for storage.
I placed the meat and the herbs that would add fragrance on the heated cauldron lid.
Sssssss—
With a mouthwatering hiss, a rich aroma punched straight into my nose.
Ah. This was it.
This was food. This was a meal.
I almost wanted to burst into tears right there, but the real test was only beginning.
What mattered most in a meat dish?
Spices? Good ingredients? The mindset you brought to the meat?
Of course all of them mattered.
Every single one was important, but what mattered most was the cooking.
No matter how delicious the meat and spices were, if you burned it black, the whole thing was ruined.
And if it was undercooked, that ruined it too.
This wasn’t a city. It was nature.
There was no convenient way to control the fire like a gas stove.
The flames were rough, and the surface temperature of the cauldron lid kept climbing without pause.
Could even a famous chef succeed at grilling meat with no tools at all?
That would be a difficult level of challenge, wouldn’t it?
But.
I had a strong body that wouldn’t feel hot even if I jumped into lava!
I just had to lift the heated cauldron lid and control the fire that way.
No tongs? No problem. I had a kitchen knife. I could just use the blade like a spatula.
So what if it looked a little odd? I was the one eating it, after all.
Of course, I didn’t plan to eat it all by myself.
Lucy’s herbs had helped complete this dish.
I intended to bring some of it to her.
There was a saying that if your brain was bad, your body suffered.
My view was a little different. If your body was bad, your brain suffered.
My mighty body itself was both a cooking tool and a piece of modern civilization.
Still, next time I should make some tools before cooking….
Anyway.
I watched the steak sizzle as its outer surface turned crisp.
A smile of deep satisfaction spread across my face without me even realizing it.
"Ah, so you don’t know… this is called the Maillard reaction."
I pulled off the steak, grilled to perfection by my standards, and set it on the board I’d washed earlier.
I let it rest, then used the fat it released to stir-fry the mushrooms with admirable thrift.
If there were rice here too, it would be truly perfect.
"A shame, but this isn’t the last supper."
The meal was complete.
Watching the steaming steak dish, I fell into thought.
"Giant boar steak. Served with mushrooms and herbs."
It was the perfect name.
I sliced into the steak with my knife.
The crust crackled, but the blade slid through the meat with effortless softness.
I set aside a separate portion for Lucy.
The size difference was absurd—nearly fortyfold.
It wasn’t because I wanted to eat a lot. By human standards, this was one serving.
It would be a waste to leave any behind.
"Well then, let’s eat."
Under a sky stitched with stars, I cut into the meat.
I didn’t have a fork or spoon, but the atmosphere was no less luxurious than a high-end restaurant’s.
The sound of flowing water rang out sharply.
It was more refined and romantic than any classical music I’d ever heard.
There was no room for artificial lighting to intrude.
The moon and stars had already taken its place.
The wind blew.
It playfully tickled my cheek, soft as a blanket.
The reason I’d set up the riverside like a kitchen was simple: meals eaten out here, facing nature instead of in a damp, cold cave, would taste better.
The smartphone I’d always looked at while eating was gone now.
I didn’t have a friend beside me to talk to, either.
And yet, even though it was only a single slab of steak, the meal felt so rich.
That was probably because of everything that had led up to it.
Food from a restaurant, delivered easily through an app whenever and wherever you wanted, was convenient.
But food made by someone who had worked hard for you was always more delicious.
After walking through the great forest, going into a mine, and hunting a boar after all sorts of twists and turns,
after meeting a kind person by chance and receiving ingredients to go with the meat,
the food I had made with my own hands for myself was just as good as any mountain of delicacies and rare seafood.
It was the first time since I’d been reborn as a monster.
A meal this satisfying, I mean.
"Ah, I’m full."
I was stuffed.
My stomach felt like it was about to burst.
A thick, heavy fullness had taken over my whole body.
I looked at the steak I’d set aside for Lucy.
"It’s gone cold. Hmm…."
I had once visited Lucy’s house to pick up the black salt she’d given me.
It was in a place a fair distance from my cave.
It wasn’t fully night yet.
Lucy would still be awake, and she had probably already finished eating.
Too absorbed in enjoying the scenery while I ate, I hadn’t noticed the meat getting cold.
Next time, I should probably give the food to the person it was meant for first.
I got completely carried away by the atmosphere. Sigh.
Still, I’d made it already, so I should go deliver it.
To my surprise, the steak was still delicious even when cold.
If Lucy had something to heat it up with, she’d be able to enjoy it even better.
And even if she had already eaten dinner, she could always eat it later.
The bag Lucy had handed me last time hadn’t only contained ingredients.
For some reason, it had also included a flat glass disc.
I figured I’d return the backpack too, so I set the cooled meat on top of the glass disc.
Please, I hoped she’d like it….
"Hm?"
I thought I’d just heard something faint a moment ago….
Holding the plate, I moved toward the sound.
Then I found something that looked like a cat there.
A round feline face, pointed ears, and bright, alert eyes.
At first glance, you might think it was a cat, but it was too big for that, and leopard-like patterns repeated across its fur.
It was too large to be a wildcat, too small to be a tiger.
It was about the size of a Maine Coon.
And it wasn’t a normal Maine Coon, either.
A horn jutted up from its forehead like a unicorn’s, making it look like a sacred beast.
The creature fluffed out its fur and hissed at me.
But it didn’t run away. To be more exact, its legs were chained, so it couldn’t escape.
Crackle— crackle—
Sparks ran through the shackles.
Every time the electricity surged, the creature convulsed.
It looked terribly painful.
It also seemed to have been tied up for quite a long time, because it was thin.
"Hmm."
Looks like I’d have to give Lucy her steak later.
I set the plate down in front of the creature and removed its shackles.
As soon as it was free, it ran off at once, but that had been expected.
And the next day,
when I saw that the food on the plate was gone, I smiled a little.