Red Witch Kkakdugi (2)
"...So that's why you brought this to me?"
"Yes. It tastes fine to me, but Lord Athanitas and Mary said they'd need to brace themselves first."
"Well, of course they would."
"Yes, sir. Right now it's closer to a salad pickle. Once it ages and ferments properly, it'll become a real pickle."
Was this brat trying to mess with him? Had he somehow caught wind of the old grudge and anger Jigmeser still carried? Daytime words were overheard by fairies and nighttime words by slimes, or so the saying went—but that couldn't be it. After all, Jigmeser had never spoken a word of it to anyone.
Standing atop his stepped platform, Jigmeser looked down at the table with a sour expression. At the end of a gaze that laid bare his awkward feelings sat the kkakdugi Karem had brought.
Cubed turnip filled a small wooden bowl, tossed in a seasoning far redder than any living creature's blood—something that made the pomegranate-and-wine sauces of ordinary dishes look tame by comparison.
Karem, of course, pretended not to notice that look.
"And you're telling me this blood-red turnip pickle has Red Witch's Finger in it?"
"Yes. It happened to be dried to a crisp, so I used it right away."
"Isn't that a poisonous herb? Where in the world did you even—"
"I somehow got permission from Lord Athanitas for the leftovers from the festival."
Jigmeser groaned inwardly. Lord Athanitas. Just how exactly do you manage your subordinates?
Of course, curiosity and experimentation were vital for a chef. No matter how delicious something was, the human palate grew used to it. That went double for nobles and other powerful people who routinely put rare ingredients of a quality commoners could only dream of into their mouths.
Even Jigmeser himself had once thrown money around hiring people just to hunt down new flavors, and he still worked hard at creating new dishes. But he had never gone as far into madness as Karem. Who would have thought the boy would cook with a poisonous herb as an edible ingredient?
And there was no way Karem failed to notice Jigmeser's hesitation. Catherine and Mary had reacted the exact same way. He hadn't had time to persuade those two, but now, with the spirit of a veteran gamer coaxing a complete newbie into trying a game, Karem steeled himself and launched into persuasion.
"Head Chef. Calling Red Witch's Finger a poisonous herb is a misunderstanding."
"Karem. A misunderstanding? What on earth do you mean by that?"
"You don't even have to go as far as spices like pepper or mustard seed. Just onion and garlic alone have a sharp, spicy kick, don't they? Red Witch's Finger is the same sort of thing."
"Aren't you stretching the comparison a little too far?"
"Forget the labels—poisonous herb, spice, aromatic vegetable—and just look at the common ground. Don't you see what they all share?"
"Common ground? Well—"
Jigmeser's face took on a look of sudden realization. Pepper, mustard, onion, garlic. Completely different plants, yet they clearly had something in common.
"Every last one of them is a strong-scented, spicy spice or vegetable."
"Exactly. And if you undercook them or eat too much, your tongue burns enough to bring tears to your eyes, right?"
"Don't tell me the source of this red herb's pain is..."
"The heat, of course."
The origins differed, but they all produced the same spicy result. Once he turned over that fact he had always taken for granted, it actually sounded plausible—
"No, wait. Then how do you explain the searing pain you get just from touching it?"
"Mustard stings the tongue. Garlic gives a gentle burn toward the back. The smell of raw onion alone makes your eyes water and leaves a sharp taste. Similar, but different flavors, I think."
"...That actually makes sense."
Come to think of it, it did. As Jigmeser began to seriously weigh the idea, Karem reined in his rising excitement. The important thing was persuading even one more person and clearing up the misunderstanding. After all, he needed this if he was ever going to use chili powder freely. Popularization and all that didn't particularly concern him. Culinary culture generally flowed from the top down. Once the nobles started eating it, the trend would gradually spread. Of course it would take a long time, but that wasn't his problem. There was no need for him to go through the trouble himself.
After wrestling with the thought, Jigmeser seemed to reach a decision. With a firm expression he gave a short nod.
"Fine. I'll try it. Utensils—"
"I figured you'd say that, so I prepared them ahead of time."
"I like that quick readiness of yours."
"Well, I am the one asking you to taste it."
Jigmeser picked up a fork and, with dwarf-like boldness, immediately stabbed a piece of kkakdugi. That was the claim, at least—the glaring red color still made him uneasy whether he liked it or not.
"This smell... garlic and onion, and ginger mixed in as well?"
"Ginger and garlic, a little onion, salt, garum, apple jam, honey, and flour, all tossed together."
"Hmm. The sweetness certainly works well to hold back the heat—wait a second."
Jigmeser snapped his head around as if something had gone terribly wrong.
"What did you say you put in?"
"Uh, flour?"
"No! Not that. After the salt!"
"Garum?"
Why was that coming up here?
For a brief moment every wrinkle on Jigmeser's face smoothed out as he stared blankly. Sensing that something was off, Karem immediately explained the earlier situation in full detail.
"...So you're saying you received it because a storeroom worker made a delivery mistake?"
"Yes. He said that even if something went wrong, the responsibility was entirely on their side. By any chance—"
"Right. That was probably the batch I ordered. The reviews were so polarized I wanted to experiment with it myself."
"Yes, sir. I'll return it right away."
After a brief headache, Jigmeser felt relief. At least Karem had recognized it as a food ingredient. If the boy had decided it was some kind of rotten sludge and thrown it out, Jigmeser would have been scattering dozens of silver shillings into thin air.
"No, wait. You put garum in this?"
"Yes. About two spoonfuls."
And yet there wasn't a single trace of fishy smell? Two whole spoonfuls of garum? Curiosity finally overrode the lingering prejudice Jigmeser still held toward Red Witch's Finger.
Moments later the red-seasoned cube on the fork disappeared into Jigmeser's mouth.
Khuh!
Pain—no, heat—that onion, garlic, and mustard couldn't begin to match. Jigmeser nearly screamed. But young Karem had eaten it too; a dwarf couldn't lose his composure like that. Still, it was far more tingling than he had expected....
A pain incomparable to onion or garlic swirled through his entire mouth. Tingling would have been a blessing—heat flooded his whole body until sweat beaded on his skin. The garlic and onion aromas seemed completely suppressed by the Red Witch's Finger.
Just when he thought the heat would never end, the thick sweetness of honey and the subtle sweetness of apple jam gradually began to cover it. Even so, it remained dizzyingly spicy.
"Kh, kheum!? It's... edible!? This heat and the burning sensation are hard to get used to, though."
"Whew. Well, it still needs to ferment before it's finished."
"Kheum! Come to think of it, you called it a pickle, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir. It's currently fermenting away in my kitchen at the Mage's Tower."
After a day and a half he would just stick it in the cool storeroom that was like a refrigerator and let it ripen on its own. Just imagining the refreshing finished taste made Karem's chest swell. If only he had soda to go with it. But he couldn't ask for that much.
Meanwhile, Jigmeser's face had flushed deep red. Sweat poured down him, yet he was already tasting another piece of kkakdugi. He had meant to try only one, but the deep umami that tied all the ingredients together, along with the acidity of the vinegar, made his hand move of its own accord. Under Karem's look of quiet triumph, Jigmeser shook his head as if making an excuse. Beads of sweat from the heat slowly rolled down his face.
"There's still room for impr—kheum!—improvement, and it's quite spicy, but for now... it would work fine as a palate-cleansing salad. Khuh! Kheum! It would also pair well with greasy food."
"I'm glad it suits your taste."
"But this damned heat... needs to be toned down a bit!"
Unable to take any more, Jigmeser grabbed his stepped platform, hurried to a corner shelf, and stuffed an entire piece of cheese into his mouth. The kkakdugi had raised his body temperature so high that the cheese melted almost instantly, coating his burning mouth. Only then did he let out a sigh of relief.
"Haa. Good heavens. Even with cheese in my mouth it still burns."
"Milk would work better than cheese."
"Right—no. You finish milk too quickly and it fills you up. Not ideal."
His whole body still felt hot, but once the pain subsided, Jigmeser's tongue ferociously analyzed the Red Witch pickle Karem had brought and reached its conclusion.
"Hoo. First of all, the heat has to be reduced."
"Ah, if you remove some of the seeds from the Red Witch's Finger, the heat drops quite a bit."
"What? That sounds like you're saying this unfinished pickle didn't get that treatment."
"I got so excited about the recipe that I completely forgot to go that far."
Karem bowed at the waist with an apology. Jigmeser waved a hand. If one of the subordinates working in his own kitchen had done it, he would have brought down thunder and lightning—but he couldn't do that to Karem. After all, before being Catherine's personal chef, the boy had already drawn the interest of the lord's family and even caught the eye of the war god Tutatis. There was also the fact that Jigmeser's own one-sided fury had left him with a guilty conscience.
"By the way. Is this something you've been researching for a while?"
"Uh, no. The moment I tasted the Bulmason fragments and smelled the garum, the idea just came to me."
It wasn't a lie. Not a lie at all. Still, that was some fresh nonsense. Jigmeser almost said as much, but Karem's completely casual demeanor made it clear the boy was telling the truth.
"Hoh. Karem. How old are you again?"
"Me? Still ten."
"When I was that age I was too busy throwing tantrums to cook anything."
"...Um. Thank you."
Feeling a little awkward, Karem turned his head as he spoke. The usual blatant flattery was one thing, but this sudden sincere praise made him surprisingly embarrassed. To shake off the itchy feeling, he quickly changed the subject.
"Anyway! I thought of all kinds of recipes. Like a sauce made by grinding sugar or fruit with vinegar and Bulmason and then fermenting it."
"A sauce! Karem! Is that another new dish?"
"Yes, that's right. Lady Alicia."
"Eheh. That's right. It's Alicia."
Wait. Who?
Karem and Jigmeser both whipped their heads around. Somehow Alicia had already entered and was now straining on tiptoe, trying her hardest to peer up onto the table.
"Bulmason? What's Bulmason?"
"Uh, it's just the shortened name I made for the fruit called Red Witch's Finger. Saying the whole thing every time is too long."
"Red Witch's Finger? Isn't that poisonous?"
"Ah, that's a misunderstanding. It's more like pepper, garlic, or onion. Bulmason is just quite a bit spicier than those."
"Hmm? Is that so?"
Surely she wasn't about to say she wanted to try it? To Karem and Jigmeser's relief, she had merely been curious; Alicia's attention soon swung back to Jigmeser.
"Jigmeser! May I have a snack?"
"Mm, of course. How about a slightly different pudding today?"
"A different pudding! That sounds perfect!"
Having successfully diverted Alicia's attention, Jigmeser quickly exchanged a look with Karem. Karem immediately dumped the remaining contents of the kkakdugi bowl into his mouth, earned a look of pure horror from Jigmeser as if the dwarf's eyes might tear open, and slipped away into a corner of the kitchen.
The exchange between Karem and Jigmeser was temporarily suspended until Alicia left satisfied.
A few days later.
The southern plaza of Coldon's outer castle.
Despite the cold weather, people of every class and race stood staring with curious eyes at the tall platform that had not yet been cleared away after the festival.
"Lies! There's no way a person could eat Red Witch's Finger and survive!"
"I was already feeling the post-festival blues. This is perfect."
"Beer! Ice-cold beer that freezes your bones, and some side dishes to go with it!"
The plaza, which should have been quiet, was noisier than a marketplace. And standing on the stage platform was Karem, holding a small basket filled with Red Witch's Finger.
Amid the murmuring crowd, Karem turned a distant gaze toward his employer.
"Lord Athanitas. How exactly did things end up like this?"
"You're the one who went and stimulated a little kid's curiosity right when it was ready to explode."
"Damn it. Lady Alicia! I even treated you to pudding!"