What Is This Made Of? (2)

As a general rule, the staple of a meal was something rather bland and unremarkable.

There was no particular reason for it.

It simply allowed one to eat plenty without growing tired of the food.

A staple was, so to speak, the main character charged with supplying the body with calories. If those calories were to come from anything other than carbohydrates, then even setting aside questions of variety, cost, and nutrition, one would still have to devour an unimaginably vast quantity of food no matter what it was.

Thus, when every factor was considered, the staple was carbohydrates—and in most cases that meant grains, fruits, or root vegetables rich in them.

Of course there were a few rare exceptions: places where meat was more common than bread and cheaper besides. Inland regions with broad grasslands, where animal husbandry thrived, for example. The people who lived there made a simple choice. They just ate meat as their staple. End of story. After all, meat was cheaper than grain in such lands, so the decision was only natural. There had even been times when the now-common wheat flour itself was a mark of luxury.

At any rate, that being the case—

Crunch, crack, pop-pop-pop! Crunch-crunch!

"Hmm. This isn't quite the taste I was expecting."

"Well, I suppose not."

A simple, utterly plain flavor spread through her mouth, and Alicia felt a flicker of disappointment—no, a rather large one. It was the first time she had ever been disappointed by Karem's cooking.

Then again, her expectations had been perfectly reasonable. Everything Karem had been doing at the castle was extraordinary. From hands scarcely larger than a child's—hands that belonged to a boy only a few years older than Alicia herself—came flavors, creativity, and the pure essence of a gourmet tradition thousands of years old, the kind that made even centuries-old elf and dwarf chefs open their eyes and expand their minds. Alicia was only six years ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠old, an age when curiosity overflowed to the point of explosion, and she possessed an appetite that could rival a wild beast. Of course she had expected wonders.

Which was why this was the first time she had ever felt let down by one of Karem's dishes.

"Even so, it's a staple," Karem said. "And it's made from oats."

"Oats? Karem, what are oats?"

Ah. So it started there.

Karem and Mary shared the same thought and closed their eyes. Of course Alicia wouldn't know. She was the precious youngest daughter of a ducal house, doted on by everyone (Robin excepted). Naturally she had only ever been given rare, healthy, delicious things to eat.

Karem recovered first. He opened his eyes and waved the question off vaguely.

"Uh, a kind of grain. Very nutritious."

"Hmm. The taste is just so-so."

"If it's just so-so, why do you keep eating it?"

At that, Alicia glanced down without thinking. The plate that had been heaped with oat rice was already empty.

"Hmm. The taste is just so-so. There's no taste at all."

"Well, it is a staple. Like plain bread."

"True. But this popping texture is nice. My hand keeps going back for more."

"What if you ate it with side dishes?"

"Side dishes?"

"Spinach and mushrooms sautéed in butter, meatballs simmered in gravy sauce, cabbage kimchi or kkakdugi, that sort of thing."

"Ooh, that doesn't sound bad at all. Especially those spicy pickles—"

"It's kimchi, not pickles."

"Hmm. I still don't understand the difference between the kimchi you talk about and pickles, Karem. Isn't it just a slightly unusual, spicy sauerkraut?"

Karem let Alicia's last remark wash over him. In any case, the verdict from Alicia—whom everyone acknowledged as a gourmet (or rather, someone who simply never refused food)—was not perfect, but it was far from bad.

Mary, however, having finally come back to her senses, found it impossible to believe.

"...It's decent enough to eat? Oats?"

The thought slipped out of her mouth in a small voice, mixed with blank astonishment and doubt. Her reaction was only natural. What were oats, after all? A crop that was a misery to grind, and even after all that labor remained coarse and nearly tasteless—so much so that the effort hardly seemed worth it. Only a few decades ago they had been a staple in Iceland, but once Adobis began flooding the market with grain they had been unceremoniously demoted to animal fodder. There was a reason oats were treated so poorly.

And yet the scene unfolding before her eyes... A young lady of such high rank that she ranked among the most noble in all of Iceland—no, the entire kingdom—who had eaten nothing but beautiful and precious things since birth, had just eaten oats of all things, and her verdict was that they were decent enough?

While Mary was still lost in thought, Karem moved quickly, laying out the side dishes he had mentioned.

"Here we are. Side dishes to go with the rice."

"Let's see, let's see. Mmm, they really do go well together."

By the time Mary snapped out of it, Karem had finished preparing the sides and Alicia was already eating them with the oat rice. Karem refilled Alicia's rapidly emptying plate, then scooped some onto Mary's as well.

"Here, Mary. I understand why you're like that, but try some first."

"Huuuummmmm."

"If it tasted bad, would Lady Alicia be eating it so enthusiastically? Well, she did say it literally has no taste, but her reaction is that it's decent enough to eat."

"That is true, I suppose. Still."

Mary sat down with a look of clear displeasure. She rested her hands on the table, then swept one up to take a fork. Still clinging to a last thread of suspicion, she stared down at her plate.

The side dishes alone were enough to make her tongue tingle just looking at them. Butter that had drunk in the sunlight glistened on the mushrooms, browned to perfection, and on the spinach that had been sautéed soft without losing its shape. Next to them sat bite-sized meatballs, simmered in gravy yet still golden-brown enough that she could almost taste them already. Beside those sat the cabbage kimchi, releasing faint sour notes. Its color was a little milder than before, but because of their first meeting she still found herself reluctant to try it.

And then the oat rice that took up half the plate.

Mary's brow furrowed ever so slightly at the smell. She had to admit the aroma was good. Even so, she found it hard to let go of her doubts. But she had sat down and even picked up her utensils. She couldn't sit there forever. Better to take the blow first.

Mary squeezed her eyes shut and put a forkful of oat rice into her mouth.

And the taste was—

Crunch, crackle!

"...Huh?"

It was surprisingly ordinary. No—really, why was this edible? The texture was far firmer than a freshly baked wheat loaf eaten as a staple, but it was not so hard as to be unpleasant. Above all, there was the mouthfeel.

Pop! Crack! Crunch!

Every time she moved her teeth, a bursting sound and sensation traveled up her jaw and into her ears and skull. There was nothing special about the flavor. But compared to ordinary bread, the texture was far richer. No matter how long she chewed, the popping, crackling bite of the oat rice never faded until she chose to stop. And for all that it was a grain, the more she chewed the more a distinctive savoriness and a subtle sweetness seeped out.

"Just steaming it the way you steam barley, and oats change this much?"

"And because they're oats, they keep you full for a long time as a bonus."

"True. The only real advantage of oatmeal and oat bread is how long they keep you full."

"I'd say half a day at least, wouldn't you?"

Her doubts completely gone, Mary nodded. She lightly speared a meatball with her fork and ate it. Of course it couldn't taste bad.

"But can something this simple really solve that problem?"

"That problem...? Ah."

Karem followed Mary's glance and cast a sidelong look at their unexpected guest. Alicia. Now that he thought about it, they were planning to feed oats of all things to the eldest son of the ducal house; they could hardly tell Alicia about that as well. Until the man himself ate it and gave his approval, the fewer people who knew, the less trouble there would be afterward. Alicia, of course, was completely absorbed in the "set meal" in front of her and paid them no mind, but still—just in case—Karem and Mary could not afford to relax.

Karem lowered his voice as much as he could.

"Yes. He said he can endure hunger, but he can't stand food that tastes bad."

"Hmm. At this level, it could serve as a substitute for bread."

"If he can just hold back on that mayonnaise of his, the weight should come off quickly enough."

Of that much, at least, Karem was certain.

Noblesse oblige. The so-called duty of the nobility. Godwin was the future duke who would one day rule the vast expanse of Iceland. His days ran far harder than Karem had first imagined. Rising before dawn, sleeping late, studying and practicing side by side to become a proper duke—his routine was no less grueling than that of a student facing the college entrance exams; if anything, it was worse.

Young Master, aren't you going to collapse before you even succeed His Grace?

It's not like this every day. I take breaks here and there, I take restorative elixirs regularly, and I work off the fatigue as it builds up.

The mayonnaise... so that's why you put on more weight?

Ah. Damn.

But even that had its limits. When mayonnaise wormed its way into a diet already rich in nutrients meant to sustain hard labor, the weight of Godwin's experience and knowledge increased in the most physical sense. The solution, then, was simple. Ban mayonnaise until he returned to a healthy weight. Rein in the butter- and sugar-laden desserts and dishes he had been freely enjoying, put him on (comparatively) healthy fare, and keep up his daily routine and exercise. That was all.

Having tasted the provisional menu Godwin would be eating, Mary nodded in approval. It was a nutritious diet that covered meat, vegetables, grains, and fat in balanced measure.

While she was at it, Mary decided she might as well try the pickle she had long avoided—the cabbage kimchi. After all, she had already eaten oats; there was no reason she couldn't manage this.

Her resolve firm, her fork stabbed into the cabbage kimchi.

"Hmm. The smell is much better than befo—"

"Hm? Mary, you're going to try some too? It's a little spicy—perfect as a palate cleanser."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. You'll understand once you taste it."

Conveniently, Mary's mouth was already greasy, and a little pasty as well. She followed Alicia's suggestion and ate the cabbage kimchi.

"Mm!? Mmm?"

"Better than plain sour sauerkraut, right?"

"C-certainly. Far richer than cabbage that was simply salted and left to ferment."

A sharp, tangy aroma and a pleasantly sour flavor, with a faint hint of the sea. Then, in the next instant, a clean, vivid freshness washed through her mouth like a flood sweeping debris from a dammed river, scouring away ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the grease and pastiness completely. If no one had told her beforehand, she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would never have believed it was the same kind of food. Compared to that hellish, blood-red turnip pickle she had first been shown, the cabbage kimchi in front of her had a great deal of white in it.

Finding the combination rather to her liking, Mary began alternating bites of oat rice and kimchi. Karem shook his head as if displeased. By his standards this was less kimchi than a simple seasoned cabbage pickle with kimchi seasoning. But if he brought out the real thing he himself ate, Mary's reaction was all too easy to predict. Even Alicia had shied away from that. For now, at least.

Still, the ice had been broken. Taking it further from here was entirely in Karem's hands. And he was very confident—something Catherine, who these days found herself eating spicy food without even realizing it, could readily prove.

"Mmm. I think I should stop."

"Lady Alicia? Why aren't you having more?"

"Mm. Just like Karem said, these oats are really filling."

"Er, it isn't because you polished off every last side dish? It was only three servings."

Oat rice still remained in the pot, and kimchi still filled the jar. In contrast, the bowls that had held the other side dishes were completely empty.

The Phantom Thief of Felwinter. Just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who was she really?

"Isn't that a bit much for a snack?"

"If I eat less for a snack, Lady Poppins will get suspicious."

"Well, of course she would."

"Hmm. I suppose I'll have to run around the castle and the garden a little—hm?"

Alicia, still patting her improbably flat stomach after all that food, frowned and tilted her head. Then she gasped and clapped her hands.

"Ah, that's right! Karem! I had a message for you."

"Yes? For me?"

"Yes. Corvus asked you to visit when you have time. Hmm, he said something about the breed improvement being finished."

"!!!"