Relative Diet Menu (2)
"The giant's rose has wilted completely, so you may eat it now."
"Hm? Giant's rose?"
Godwin swallowed a mouthful of oat rice while keeping a wary eye on his swelling stomach, carefully chewing a piece of teriyaki pork barbecue. He stopped mid-bite and turned his head.
Every plant blooms and fades with the seasons. The enormous rose that had once blazed a vivid crimson had long since lost its luster, as if autumn were already breathing down its neck. Yet it still refused to let its presence be forgotten. A mild, warm broth fragrance rose from it—one that rivaled even the bold aroma of the teriyaki sauce—and beckoned to Godwin.
"Hah… I really shouldn't drink the broth right now."
"You're going to hold yourself back from this? Your exhausted tongue must be crying out for something hot and savory."
"So that's why you saved it for last. This was your plan all along."
A thoroughly defeated look spread across Godwin's face. Bread swells to its absolute limit the moment it meets broth. Grain was the main ingredient of bread, and the oat rice he was eating now was no different. In a situation where his stomach was already filling faster than usual, starting on the broth now was clearly a poor choice, and Godwin knew it.
But his tongue had other ideas. It seized his throat and let out a silent scream, demanding that reason immediately fetch that clear, fragrant broth. The teriyaki barbecue, ratatouille, pelmeni—every dish Godwin had eaten so far had been deliberately seasoned far more heavily than usual, all thanks to Karem's schemes. In other words, his tongue was exhausted to its absolute limit.
Ordinarily a mild staple would soothe that fatigue. But the oat rice, whose texture was far from soft, had to be chewed thoroughly; that fatigue traveled through his teeth and settled onto his tongue. Godwin finally saw through Karem's design.
A belly that filled faster than normal. A tongue that could not be soothed. Teeth that passed that fatigue along. The plan was to make instinct collapse before greed ever got the chance. Then reason would naturally fall away as well.
"Ah, screw it. I don't care. Give me a bowl."
"Yes, sir. One bowl of giant's rose coming right up."
"By the way, who named this dish? Jigmeser?"
"Sir Jigmeser took one look and slapped the name on it on the spot."
"Ah, I figured as much."
"Pardon?"
Figured as much? Figured what, exactly? At the sudden conclusion Karem paused while carefully transferring the milfeuille nabe so its shape wouldn't collapse, and turned his head.
"What do you mean, you figured as much?"
"Well, Karem—you're terrible at naming things."
"From where I'm standing, the other names are way more cringeworthy."
"Is that so? Then tell me what you originally planned to call this pot dish."
"Milfeuille pot."
"I knew it."
Just hearing that silky, tongue-rolling foreign pronunciation made Godwin shudder.
"The meaning's intuitive enough—thousand-layer leaves. But you named it with Berseingeto frog-words instead of Seophon speech? Giant's rose is far more stylish and sounds way more plausible."
"Yes, yes. I'm always the weird one who's wrong. Honestly."
"Maybe your cooking genius is inversely proportional to your naming sense?"
"You may eat now, young master."
Honestly, you people are the ones with the cringey taste… Karem kept the thought locked behind tightly pressed lips and set the bowl in front of Godwin. Godwin chuckled at the reaction and lifted his spoon.
A quiet note of admiration escaped him. A portion of the great autumn rose still held its shape, nestled thickly in clear broth where pale beads of oil floated. Steam rose from the bowl that had not yet lost its heat. The warm, savory scent made Godwin's stomach growl. Drinking the broth would fill him in no time—he was certain of it.
He hesitated for a moment. Yet in that brief pause his spoon slowly extended toward the bowl of its own accord. The paper-thin beef, layered with cabbage, parted cleanly the instant the spoon touched it, sliding into the spoon together with the broth. The beef had already been marbled to perfection; after long, gentle simmering it had only grown softer.
"Hah… and I still have so much more to eat."
Instinct finally overtook reason. Godwin carefully tipped the spoon into his mouth. The moment it touched his tongue the cabbage shattered like falling autumn leaves and scattered through his mouth, while the broth flooded out at once. The soft stock, harmonizing the umami of sea and land, spread through his thoroughly heated mouth and was more than enough to soothe it. The cloying dryness and saltiness vanished.
Only then did Godwin move his teeth—no, there was no need. The tender beef was not quite as soft as the broth that had already disappeared without a trace or the cabbage that had long since scattered, yet a mere shift of the tongue was enough to make it fall apart along its grain. As the meat tore, richer flavor and fat seeped out from every fissure, soaking in like rain upon cracked, drought-stricken earth.
A faint breath of the sea. Broth of vegetables and mushrooms. The taste, aroma, and richness of beef. No single element of sea, vegetable, or meat stood out or clashed; their gentle, harmonious flavor brought peace to Godwin's thoroughly overstimulated mouth and nose.
One spoonful of beef-and-cabbage petals. The next with mushrooms as well. After a few more repetitions the solids vanished. One bowl emptied, then a second, then a third. In the end Godwin's patience reached its limit. He set down the spoon and simply tilted the bowl, gulping down broth and remaining solids together.
Noble etiquette? For once, to hell with it. Spoonful after dainty spoonful—Godwin could no longer endure it.
"Hoooooo—"
"You were grumbling so much, yet you seem quite satisfied."
"Seasoning too salty, oat rice this and that—I don't care. I want to just lift the whole pot and drink this by itself. Maybe—"
"Absolutely not. Even a pot full of greens will make you gain weight if you eat it like that."
"I was just poking around. Just poking."
"Shall I serve you another bowl?"
"Sureee—hnnngh!"
Godwin, who had been silently watching Karem carry the empty bowl away, suddenly froze in horror. Several of the pots that had once bloomed thickly with cabbage and beef at the ordinary tables had transformed into something completely different. Specifically, the broth. The once clear, transparent liquid was now dyed a vivid crimson. The bubbling pots rose and fell with vegetables, mushrooms, and thin slices of meat.
A stock grown rich with every essence of vegetable, mushroom, and meat, plus a spicy fragrance that heated the entire body… And Godwin saw something even more alarming. While the guests blew on their mouths and sipped the spicy air as they ladled out solids, the servants had brought flat white noodles and were pushing them straight into the pots.
Godwin's instincts screamed: I have to eat that!
"Karem. I want to eat that too. Impossible, right?"
"Impossible. Those noodles are also made of wheat flour."
"Tsk. I figured the white ones would be."
Godwin did not like that answer one bit.
"Then at the very least I should make my giant's rose spicy like the ones down there and eat it that way."
"Uh, you still have a mountain left to eat. If you drink even more broth here—"
"I know. Of course I know. But how am I supposed to endure that?"
"Well… if you insist. Understood."
Of course Karem understood. After all, the true flower of milfeuille nabe—or shabu-shabu—was the noodles and porridge eaten as dessert at the very end. Who could possibly hold back? What, noodles and porridge aren't dessert? Just try them once and you'll change your mind.
Unfortunately Godwin was not allowed. The only carbohydrate currently permitted to him was the oat rice. Let's aim for that opportunity after you've lost the weight. Karem cut the request short, snagged a servant who was replenishing the high table, and brought over a seasoning paste. He dumped the entire thing into the broth, then rinsed the remaining scraps with a little more stock and scraped every last bit in as well. A few stirs with the ladle and the paste dissolved; the clear broth turned red in an instant and the bottom of the pot disappeared from view.
The pot of crimson stock began to simmer gently. White steam rose from the bubbles that lightly brushed the meat and cabbage. The once mellow broth now carried a sharp, spicy scent that stabbed at the nose; Godwin found himself smacking his lips without realizing it.
"Suddenly your appetite seems to have roared back to life."
"When a smell this stimulating and spicy starts floating around, of course it does."
"But are you truly going to eat it?"
"My stomach will fill up fast, but that's a problem for the me who exists after I've finished this. Quick, one more bowl…"
And then, mid-sentence to Karem, Godwin lost the power of speech. Normally losing one's words meant one had seen something shocking. Godwin's eyes had not locked onto anything particularly special. He had simply discovered a giant—literally the only word that fit—egg tart of staggering size.
A servant set the plate holding the enormous egg tart directly in front of Catherine, then, at Alicia's request, cut a portion and passed it over. When Mary sliced the giant egg tart on Catherine's plate in half, the custard inside spilled out like an overflowing dam—no, like erupting lava.
The spicy, appetite-stirring aroma was instantly forgotten. Godwin could not continue speaking; he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Young Master Godwin. I know exactly what you're thinking, but that is something you must not eat right now. Just the amount of butter that went into it alone—"
"I know. Damn it, I know!"
"Once you've lost the weight you can eat as much as you like."
"What good is that if I can't eat it right this second?!"
"If you eat that instead of everything you've had so far, you'll get a fleeting moment of happiness. Your stomach won't even notice."
"Well of course tha—"
At that moment Godwin's eyes met William's. This time both of William's cheeks were stuffed so full they looked ready to burst—with giant egg tart. William held out the half-eaten tart, custard still quivering, toward Godwin, pulled it back, repeated the motion, and curled the corner of his mouth into a sly grin.
At that blatant provocation Godwin trembled with rage. Not only was the little brat failing to comfort his older brother—he was actively taunting him! Yet William paid no mind and proudly displayed their brotherly affection to the rest of the family and guests.
"How about this, then."
"—That damned brat's head, I swear… Hm?"
"Starting tomorrow you'll have to eat meals prepared in today's style at every sitting, though not quite this much. How about replacing tomorrow's breakfast entirely with one of those giant egg tarts? Will you accept?"
"Is that even a question?"
Godwin downed the spicy broth Karem had just refilled.
"Of course I accept!"
He immediately focused on his meal. Thanks to the clear solution, his heart felt lighter and his movements became remarkably spry.
"Ah, Karem."
"Yes?"
"Just asking out of curiosity—if a single dessert can replace an entire meal, then in the future—"
"This is already me being extremely generous. If the duchess catches wind of even this much…"
"Is that so."
Godwin smacked his lips in disappointment.
Tsk. So much for that good idea.
A picture drawn by ChatGPT.