A Double Bacon Cheeseburger for a Tired Body and Mind
Even if it was only half, the goal had been achieved either way.
Karem expressed his thanks to Corvus and left the greenhouse with a slightly lighter purse and both hands considerably heavier.
Although he had been dragged here against his will, he had no complaints. Every time Alicia dragged him around, something worthwhile seemed to come of it. Granted, this was only the second time. But Karem didn't care about such trivial details.
That aside.
Karem looked down at the basket.
"Where am I supposed to use all of these?"
The basket was packed full of Red Witch's Fingers and their variants. In other words, chili peppers and green peppers still in progress. Some he would simply leave for cooking; the rest he would mince for Tabasco, pickle into jalapeños, or dry and grind into chili powder. It didn't even require that much labor.
Tabasco was just a matter of cleaning and mincing the peppers, boiling them with various spices, grinding them, and fermenting. Jalapeños needed nothing more than packing the cut pieces into jars, pouring over boiled pickling liquid, and letting them age. Even the chili powder, which demanded considerable labor, was no real worry.
"I'll just dry them and leave them to Mary."
She would of course get angry at first about it being chili powder. But as a true workaholic she would grumble with her mouth while her body honestly ground them into powder exactly as Karem wanted. That much was certain. Karem could stake his past-life memories on it. It had been the same before.
As for the Red Witch's Finger variant whose taste and aroma were so similar to bell peppers…
"Maybe smoke them and turn them into powder."
But smoked powder was usually made from paprika, wasn't it? Would it turn out similar if he used bell peppers—no, the variant Red Witch's Fingers?
"Whoops. Still dead quiet, I see."
Pushing the door open with his body, Karem stepped into the tower and surveyed the first floor. Compared to winter the number of permanent residents had grown considerably, yet the lobby-like first floor remained deserted. Mages were researchers by nature; most of them stayed shut away in their labs, leaving the first floor empty enough that a tumbleweed might have rolled through.
"Ah, Junior Karem. So this is where you were."
"I just got back a moment ago."
"Perfect timing."
Mary, arms full of laundry, intercepted Karem on his way to the kitchen.
"The contractor said to prepare a meal that doubles as a light snack for when you returned, Junior."
"Lunch, and light? Any specific requests?"
"I have no idea; she wasn't particular. She simply said anything would do. By the way, you mentioned something had worked out well for me too. What did you mean?"
Karem tilted the basket toward Mary.
"I was going to ask you to dry these and grind them into powder."
"Ah. Laundry is more urgent right now. Leave them in the kitchen and tell me later."
"Hmm, fair enough. Understood."
Karem nodded as he eyed the large basket overflowing with laundry. As the population of the Mage's Tower had increased, both the ingredients consumed and the laundry generated had multiplied like breeding slime. Deliveries that once arrived once a week now came every two days, and even though Mary did laundry every single day, fresh loads appeared just as fast as she finished them.
On top of that, Karem had completely stepped away from being the tower's head chef and returned fully to his role as Catherine's personal cook. He couldn't help worrying whether this volume of work was really something one person could handle.
"Do you truly not need more help?"
"Hah. Junior Karem, do you know something?"
"Know what?"
"I am currently living the most fulfilling and happiest days of my life."
Certainly. Karem studied Mary's face intently. Day by day the fatigue was vanishing from her features. Her skin glowed with such vitality it looked plump and dewy. A human would have long since died of overwork, yet for a house elf the opposite seemed true; even with her usual deadpan expression, Mary radiated a clearly happy aura.
"Well, if you say so."
Be that as it may.
If every chef in the world had to name the single order they hated most, Karem could answer without hesitation.
"Anything, huh. Aigoo, here we go again."
He let out a long sigh. Normally when he prepared a meal he simply cooked whatever he felt like, made it delicious, and brought it out. But Catherine sometimes ordered "anything," as if challenging him to surprise her. Every time, Karem clutched his head.
To be fair, part of the blame was his own. It wasn't occasional; he regularly dumped on her an endless stream of dishes she had never heard of or seen. Not just Catherine—anyone would eventually order "anything" with a spark of anticipation.
The difference between cooking as he pleased and cooking "anything"? As vast as the difference between breathing naturally and breathing while consciously thinking about it. The moment you start paying attention to something you once did by pure instinct, even the things that used to work stop working. Karem tapped the table and sank into thought.
"A snack… lunch that doubles as a snack… sandwich?"
The instant the idea surfaced he rejected it. Since returning he had already made sandwiches for lunch far too many times. Catherine might never tire of them, but the cook himself was thoroughly sick of sandwiches and had no desire to make another.
Still pondering, Karem stepped out of the kitchen and into the adjacent pantry. Various cuts of pork and beef, Snow Runner portions. Leafy greens and root vegetables so fresh they practically sparkled. Entire shelves occupied by breads hard and soft, large and small.
Wait. Meat and bread.
Karem snapped his fingers.
"Hmm? Hang on. I can just make a hamburger."
"Kid. I distinctly ordered something light that doubles as a snack."
Catherine stared at the enormous hamburger sitting on the rest table in her laboratory with eyes so cold and salty that a breeze might have left a briny tang in the air.
Objectively speaking, the hamburger was the sort of thing that made saliva pool the moment you looked at it. Two thick beef patties whose surfaces were completely covered in a deep, savory crust of concentrated beef umami. Honey mustard sauce squeezed out under the sheer weight of the meat. Yellow cheddar melted into a rich, gooey sheet by the heat of the patties. Crispy bacon laid on top of that, all of it capped with a soft brioche bun. Though invisible now, the soft, butter-fragrant brioche had been toasted on the inside in the same pan that had fully absorbed the beef juices and fat, so it still held a delicate crispness.
"This 'hamburger' of yours does not look like a light food at all."
An overwhelming presence that lacked even the usual pickles or lettuce.
"You asked for lunch that doubles as a snack, didn't you?"
"Yes. Lunch that doubles as a snack. In what universe is this a snack?"
"One hamburger is a snack."
"Where exactly is this a snack, you cheeky little brat?"
"So you're not going to eat it?"
Karem remained utterly unfazed. After all, in his previous life he had been a man who regularly hit the "hamburger max five." He firmly believed that a hamburger only counted as a proper meal once you added the cola-and-fries set, and that a single burger by itself required two to make a real meal.
Mary, standing silently beside Catherine to assist with her meal, tilted her head.
"Contractor. Do you intend to skip lunch?"
"No, of course not. Hmm… well, I suppose I should eat."
"How would you like it prepared?"
"It looks a bit much to just pick up and eat lightly like a sandwich."
"Junior thoughtfully brought a fork and knife, so cutting it into bite-sized pieces should do nicely."
While Mary set to work, Catherine let out a yawn. There had been no special reason for requesting a light meal. Her body was simply exhausted from all-night research and she had been too lazy to chew, that was all. It was hardly unusual for a mage shut away in her laboratory to stay up several nights in a row, but the resulting fatigue inevitably settled deep into the body. She could have erased the weariness with a potion, yet Catherine considered drinking one for something so trivial a waste. Overdo it and she risked developing a potion addiction.
Crunch!
A sudden, resistantly crispy sound from the plate snagged Catherine's attention. Through the gap created as the knife split the hamburger, a rich, savory, deeply stimulating aroma of beef slowly rose.
"Good. The smell is unmistakable."
"It was at its absolute best the moment I first grilled and assembled it, though."
"What are you fretting about? It's still piping hot."
The instant Mary halved the hamburger, the intense fragrance trapped inside poured out together with a wave of heat. At the same time the juices sealed within the blackened, crispy meat crust were liberated and cascaded like a waterfall. The doneness was perfect; the interior of the beef patty remained a full, rosy pink. Even a drunkard whose stomach burned from the previous night's excess would not have been able to tear his eyes from this masterpiece.
"Layer upon layer of minced beef, bacon, and cheese. No vegetables."
"There are. Underneath."
"Hmm. A few pickle slices?"
"When you're eating a hamburger, that much vegetable is plenty."
"It looks greasy."
"You'll understand once you try it."
Half-expecting it to be a little too rich, Catherine took the bite-sized piece Mary had neatly cut and offered on a fork and put it in her mouth.
"Mmm!"
Her worry had been baseless. Fatigue had already left her mouth as dry as a desert. The moment the hot juices of the patty flowed between her parched, cracked taste buds, moisture returned as swiftly as a misty rain falling on a plain. Then came the deep butter aroma and the almost creamy moistness of the bread. Her teeth sank into the soft brioche without the slightest resistance—until the unexpected crispness at the very end. That surprising texture brought her pure delight.
As the bread tore and she bit into the meat patty hidden beneath, hot oil and juices gushed forth like water bursting through a broken dam, flooding the single open path in her mouth. Every crush of her teeth sent fresh torrents of oil and juices surging. The crispy exterior exploded with condensed umami while the interior crumbled softly without a hint of resistance. And there were two such beef patties!
Catherine's nose felt as if it might go numb from the exploding meat fragrance. Between those waves came the smoky, salty, chewy crispness of the bacon. The rich, melting cheddar cheese fought for its own share of attention. Cucumber pickles were present, yet they were far from enough to fully restrain the quartet of brioche bun, beef patty, bacon, and cheese. Their sourness was the barest minimum of restraint. Even so, the pickles fulfilled their role completely. Just when her tongue began to tire from the overwhelming richness, that clean, bright sourness cut in without fail, assisted by the sweet-tart honey mustard. The fatigue washed away cleanly and swiftly, allowing Catherine to taste the harmony of every component again with the freshness of a first encounter.
"Kid. You were right."
"Hmm? About what, all of a sudden?"
"The vegetables really were enough with just the pickles."
"Well, I made this one with a pure 'meat!' concept, so I can always add more vegetables next time."
"Rather than that, a slightly spicy Maoines would suit it better."
Outwardly Karem smiled with satisfaction; inwardly he grinned with sly triumph. The long training of Catherine's palate with heat was finally bearing fruit. Seeking spiciness of her own free will was the clearest proof. Yet he decided not to rush. A bad first impression was always hard to reverse. Continuing the gradual approach he had used until now would be enough.
In that case the proper reply was simple.
"I'll keep that in mind for next time."
"Good. Hmm? Mary?"
Mary, who had been staring at the floor, tilted her head, then turned at Catherine's call.
"Contractor? It appears a guest has arrived."
"What? Tell them to wait a little longer."
"However, it is the personal maid of Duchess Elizabeth. She has already entered the first-floor lobby without knocking and is searching for the contractor."
Hmm? Following Catherine's lead, Karem also raised his eyebrows.
— Double Bacon Cheeseburger —
A picture drawn by ChatGPT.