Not Cannolo, And...
Winchester Royal Castle.
The royal kitchens.
The moment they stepped into a kitchen far larger and wider than anything they had seen at Afterglow Fortress, the first thing that filled their eyes was an entire row of cooking ranges stretching down one wall.
The sizzle of searing meat, the burble of pots, the slap of dough, the thump of mallets, the chop of knives and the wet crunch of mincing, the crash of bones being broken and pulp being mashed—all of it mixed with the constant rush of people moving and working until the whole kitchen roared with noise.
Roots, fruits, leaves, and stems—some gorgeous, some grotesque, some perfectly ordinary—and meats that were clearly not the usual fare were being prepared by chefs and assistants alike. In their hands glinted every sort of cooking tool that looked like magical implements, the kind Karem had only ever seen at Winterhome when they prepared Ianbert’s welcome banquet or down in the treasury vaults.
One glance at the kitchen staff’s faces told him they were not delighted to see Karem and Mary, two unexpected guests barging in. A royal chef held a rank high enough that even an earl could not treat them lightly. And no one, rank or not, enjoyed visitors turning up in the middle of a rush.
The only reason no one snapped at them outright was that Karem and Mary were retainers of Catherine, the sage-class archmage and close confidant of the Duke of Iceland, whom the king himself favored.
Winning their goodwill, however, proved surprisingly easy.
“You’re that freakish bald dwarf’s apprentice?”
“Well, that changes everything. Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
“No, we’re right in the middle of preparing the evening welcome banquet—having guests underfoot is a bit—”
“Ah! So you’re the one he kept bragging about in those letters?”
“His origins are a little… but well. If it’s that Karem…”
“Ha! After scattering recipes and sauces of that caliber, we ought to be bowing!”
“You’re telling me you’re that Karem?”
“And it was one person, not four? And this young?”
The world ran on school ties, regional ties, and blood ties.
The regional connection of Jigmeser’s name, the academic connection of having studied under him, and the sudden re-recognition of Karem’s existing reputation softened the chefs’ gazes in an instant.
And then…
“What? You want to use the kitchen? On any other day it would have been fine, but right now… hnn.”
“There’s still time until the Crystal Jubilee, but all the honored guests have arrived, so evening banquets will probably be held every single night.”
“I’m afraid for the moment—”
“Ah, right. Mary. That, please.”
“Understood.”
They had not come empty-handed; a gift prepared in advance for just such a request.
Thud— pop— shhhhhhhh—!
The moment the wooden barrel was opened, a fierce salty base carrying a dense, complex fragrance of soy sauce rolled through every corner of the royal kitchen.
Heads snapped around in unison. Everyone who had been sweating over prep work, stock-making, and errands turned as one.
“Good heavens! What on earth is that smell? If you concentrated salt into an aroma… but this depth can’t be explained by salt alone!”
“Doesn’t it smell a little like the sea?”
“The ingredients are beans? What in the world did you do with beans to— ahem. Forgive me. I got carried away.”
“…Why does this feel like drinking holy water?”
At first they dabbed it with a skewer. Then a spoon. Before long people were abandoning everything, ladles and tasting bowls in hand, scooping it up and drinking it while moaning in admiration.
From ordinary cooks to junior chefs to the head of every station, they crowded in until the first person to recover their wits—the Berseingeto-born elf executive chef—forced the situation back under control.
“Thang! Even if this sauce is a sign of affection! Abandoning work is not allowed-yong! Everyone return to your own duties-yong!”
With a thick, nasal accent, Executive Chef Lumierix scattered the crowd. Then, clearing his throat, he unhooked a small key from the ring at his waist and held it out.
“Disciple of that mutant shitbag baldy, take this-yong!”
“Yes, sir.”
The wording was a bit much, but a dwarf who had shaved off every last hair of scalp and beard truly was a mutant freak of nature. Even Karem could not deny that.
“I do not like granting favors on account of that bald shorty, but this sauce has that much value-yong.”
“Uh, thank you?”
“It is the key to one of the private rooms I may use. Small, but it has everything you need. Use it freely-yong. Ask the servants outside for the way.”
With a final “Outsiders, leave now-yong!” Karem and Mary were unceremoniously ejected from the royal kitchen. Just before the door shut, a booming shout about locking the barrel away under the strictest watch rang out behind them.
“That went more smoothly than I expected.”
Walking beside him, Mary still looked dazed; she kept glancing back toward the kitchen. This was the capital, after all. She had expected territorial sniping, not this level of consideration.
“As expected, whether noble or not, the world really does turn on school ties, regional ties, and blood. Truly impressive.”
“Well, there were other reasons too, I’m sure.”
Karem had a few guesses of his own.
“First, extra points for not showing up empty-handed.”
That was only natural. As a house brownie, Mary knew perfectly well the difference a gift made when visiting and asking a favor.
Especially since, connection or not, it was still a first meeting.
Thanks to its maker, soy sauce was relatively common now, but it was still something of Karem’s secret technique. Handing over an entire large barrel of a secret sauce like that was bound to create goodwill even where none had existed.
“But you handed over so much at once. Isn’t there a risk of the recipe leaking?”
“No.”
“None at all?”
“None at all. Think about it. They already know the raw material is beans.”
Mary blinked slowly.
“Well… ah.”
And she understood.
She had cleaned the tower and seen everything Karem did. Even so, she still could not comprehend the process.
Boil the beans, mash them, pack them, wrap them in straw. Ferment them while praying. Carry dishes to the temple from time to time and pray some more. That was the whole of it.
“…It is rather mind-boggling that it still comes out finished after all that. I saw the scenes while cleaning and passing by… but I still don’t understand any of it.”
“You’re not supposed to understand it. You’re supposed to feel it.”
Even Karem himself, who was still making the meju that became soy sauce, had long since given up on the fine details. He simply followed the half-remembered steps, layered on prayer-meta, and enjoyed the fact that raw materials and sauces brimming with divine power kept appearing.
“Come to think of it, Junior Karem. You haven’t offered any sacrifices since leaving Coldon. Will that be all right?”
“Ah… well, yeah.”
“At Winterhome you offered regularly. If you’re late, won’t the Three be displeased?”
“If I prepare more than usual, it should be fine… right?”
Probably, he added under his breath, ignoring the look she shot him from the side as he opened the door to Lumierix’s private room.
Click— shhhhk—
The instant the handle turned, blue lines raced across the doorframe like circuits, blanketing the entire door before vanishing. The door opened.
Creeeak—
It was nothing like Jigmeser’s personal kitchen, which he had half-expected. First of all, because it was fundamentally a private room, it contained a chair, a table, a bed, and other furniture. Those pieces, however, seemed purely for show; more than half the space was occupied by spices of every kind and what looked like magical cooking tools and utensils—exactly as one would expect of an executive chef’s personal room.
What he had taken for a wardrobe opened to a wash of cold air and hanging hams, sausages, and cheeses. Every cupboard, shelf, and drawer they inspected together was packed with different spices or foodstuffs.
“At least the spices and flour look fairly normal…”
“Every single piece of furniture has preservation magic on it.”
Mary closed a lower cupboard door, surveyed the room again, and picked up a nearby spice jar.
“The bottles, the jars—everything has preservation magic.”
“Winterhome wasn’t like this. Because this is the royal castle, maybe?”
“Perhaps. It is the castle of someone higher than His Grace the Duke, so they may simply use magical tools without restraint.”
That was true to a degree, but the two of them had no way of knowing that Lumierix had simply stocked the place to the rafters because he found it too bothersome to keep going down to the larder.
“The monsters and magical beasts are unfamiliar, but we can make desserts.”
“True.”
In truth, Karem had been worried on the way here. The various monsters he had seen being butchered in the main kitchen… part of it was the coming banquets, but that was not the only reason. He had heard that among the nobles of Kingsland, monster cuisine was currently fashionable along with Serbiano culture, and the trend was spreading downward.
It’s not that I have an aversion, but…
The anxiety of the unknown—the fear that every ingredient in Lumierix’s private room might be something he had never seen before. Fortunately, the ingredients here were simply of the same staggering quality as those used in the ducal castle; they were all edible. Tasting and classifying them one by one would have been fun, but there were limits. Just imagining a room packed with the things he had seen in the royal kitchen was enough to exhaust him.
Maybe I should have gone back out and fetched ingredients myself, even if it was a hassle.
“No. Mary’s here, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Did you just call me?”
“No. Just talking to myself.”
“Have you decided what to make for the contractor’s snack?”
Karem shook his head at Mary’s question.
“Then I will choose the menu.”
“Well, I don’t mind, but what are you planning to make?”
“That… hrm.”
Mary reopened the lower cupboard and took out flour. She rubbed a little between her fingers to check quality and texture.
“It does not have a particular name. We have come to a new place, so I felt like testing a new dessert.”
“A new dessert? Like cream puffs?”
“Yes.”
Mary dusted her fingers clean as she answered.
“At least give me a rough idea of how you plan to make it.”
“This is a brand-new menu the world has never seen, so it is a little hard to describe. Teaching it would be somewhat—”
“Will that fly?”
“Tch.”
She had been hoping to prepare it quietly on her own. Turning her head with a blank face, Mary clicked her tongue and shrugged.
“I was simply thinking of frying dough into a hollow circle until crisp, then filling the inside with cream cheese, custard cream, and whipped cream… is all.”
Mary tilted her head.
“Why that expression?”
Even without her saying it, Karem knew exactly what face he was making.
…That’s cannolo she’s describing.
Dough fried crisp into a hollow tube. Cream cheese, custard, and whipped cream packed into the empty space.
“That look is the face of someone who has seen the thing I am describing somewhere before and is flustered that I just recited it.”
“Y-yes. There is. Cannoli—no. Cannolo.”
“What.”
Mary sucked in a short breath of surprise, then immediately shook her head and snorted.
“But that is only from your previous life. In this place, I am the first to develop it.”
She might not be wrong. He would have to ask Catherine later and cross-check.
“In that case, I have no choice but to name this dessert myself.”
“Have you thought of a suitable name?”
“I have.”
Already beginning to mix dough, Mary nodded.
“Stuffed Reed. That is the dessert that will debut for the first time in Europa.”
“Because reeds are hollow inside, I take it?”
“Yes.”
Mary affirmed it firmly.
“Well then, while you do that I’ll go ahead and make the creams and custard for the filling.”
Mary looked as though she wanted to say something, but Karem had already begun whipping cream, so she closed her mouth.
Whish-whish-whish— Whipping cream that had once been hard work was no longer so difficult now that his body had grown and he could use holy power. By the time Mary set a pot of oil on the range, the whipped cream was already finished.
—Status Window.
The moment the words brushed past his ear, Karem froze in bewilderment.
…Was that just Korean?
Europa was roughly similar to the Europe of his previous life. The main language used in Seophon was close to English. Yet he had just heard Hangul—something he had barely used since reincarnating. And it had said “Status Window.”
“Mary, just a moment.”
“Yes?”
He yanked the door open and stepped out into the corridor, but no one was there. Only the desolate sound of wind came through the open ventilation window.
“What is it? Have you changed your mind?”
“…It’s nothing. After we fill them, how about lightly coating both ends with caramel?”
“Hah!”
“I originally thought of melted Amadeus, but we don’t have any.”
“Are you a genius?”
He shut the door at once and focused on cooking again, yet the single word that had suddenly drifted to him continued to flicker in the back of his mind.