"... as soon as we eat, we're leaving"
Forty percent more than usual is an unpleasant face, Master Ai-Fa said.
Well, I'm the only one who pissed me off. Still, he hit me five or six times with a knife pattern on my head, so I think it's time for you to get back in the mood.
By the way, served as breakfast was Giva's dried meat.
This is another troublesome substitute. They say they're thinly ripped in millimeters like a saquid in a knob, but they don't stop biting or chewing. It's like rubber that tastes like meat.
Besides, it's like an animal. I guess there's not enough blood draining, I'm sure.
Ai-fa leaned against the wall across the street, too. I was standing alone on every side of the body, chewing on Giva's dried meat, as I was dissipating the aura into the ginguine.
Looking at the bottom of a beautifully washed iron pan, it reminds me of yesterday's supper.
It was yesterday's supper - it was the worst.
For me, it was a moment of torture.
(Whatever you want, don't worry about me...)
to a meal served by someone else. "Tastes bad!" Maybe it was the first time in my life that I made it clear, "etc.
If it was meant to be, it would be a self-loathing spiral beating the crap out of me.
That did not have to happen, because the eye-fa of the day had a strange face.
"... no delicious or unsavory meals"
I've heard wings three times in a day, rambling.
Maybe for a clan called the Forestside People, it's really only a means of nutritional intake, such as meals.
Nevertheless...
Still, that dish was too bad.
Firstly, it is the meat of Gibba.
Gibba's meat was hard.
And it was unusually animal.
No matter how poor quality pork or beef, it won't stink this far.
And because it was simmering enough, it wasn't hard enough to chew it off. What a mess the surface is, there are still muscles inside, with some melting rubber-like texture... in short, the texture sucked too.
On the other hand, the onion modoki had a better texture.
Only the texture was shaky and comfortable.
But that's all.
My best feeling is, "I knew onions wouldn't fit in the pot."
And the potato moddle in question.
What the hell was that?
As a solid, there was no one left. Just to destroy all harmony as a cream-colored powdery liquid, he was like put in.
The strongest image is "water with flour dissolved".
Come on, I want you to imagine.
Flour melted drool soup.
Onions with a shaky texture.
Animal crumbs, nicha nicha meat.
To taste, black pepper only.
Do you think this will make it tasty?
Unfortunately, it's impossible.
And the most harsh point for me was.
"Only the smell and flavor are excellent," that was one point.
The smell is the best.
The flavorful ingredients of meat and fat must have smudged enough for that cloudy liquid.
There was a black pepper-like spice flavor, which had already reached a level where you could eat white rice just by smelling it.
Nonetheless, it tastes bad.
When you mouth meat or soup, the animal odor turns its flavor into wood dust as well.
Therefore - it was like a moment of torture.
Stimulating the appetite center just wondering if this is still the case, an object that conflicts with it enters the mouth. To be honest, I don't think I would have been able to eat half of the vessel if I hadn't thanked you for the ingredients and EY-FA.
They ate three cups of that.
The last one was the fight against vomiting.
Even if that's how the stomach is completely filled, the brain marrow is more like, "So, when are you going to start eating?" I think I kept whispering until I went to bed.
So I'm sure I had that dream yesterday.
"... what are you in love with. It's time to go."
When he raised his face to a loud voice, Ai-Fa had already weaved his fur cloak and hung his large and small swords on his hips to complete his departure.
"Oh, wait a minute! Where's my santoku knife?
"... with...?
"It's a knife. You left it yesterday, didn't you?
Ai-Fa remained silent, jaw-dropping the door behind the room.
It was just the right door, and I'm headed that way.
Yesterday, both I and I-Fa fell asleep in this hall, so it remains unknown with regard to the three rooms in the back.
When I opened the door carefully it was time - once, the smell exploded.
(Wow... wow, this)
I expected it, but it was a food bank.
A bag of hemp is placed somewhere, from which an onion and potato analogue peeks into his face.
Different plants are on the walls. It hangs like a crisp black walrus turtle or strangely blue, elongated leaves.
And.
Behind the room was a space about two metres square and divided by plates, where black powder was packed tightly.
The height of the laying is about my knee.
The root of the smell was that.
Um, it's spice like black pepper, covered in Giva meat.
Before I say good or bad, this is too irritating. The atmosphere in the room without windows had its particles thickly dissolved, and when cautioned, it was likely to break the mucous membranes of the eyes, nose and throat.
(I see. Is this how you store Giva's meat)
Still, I can't beat my natural curiosity, and I continue my observation with a little teardrop.
I guess in this pile of spices, Giva's meat is sealed.
It's not salted meat, it's peppered.
But, well, without cooling equipment, these kinds of procedures are also inevitable. Because in this area, where the temperature and humidity are there, the raw meat and so on will rot.
(Hmm... Could this hay be the raw material?
Sleepy leaves on the wall. It looks like a black discolored walnut, but when I touched it, the fiber collapsed loosely.
(Hmm. Does drying these leaves turn into spices like black pepper? If Europeans from the Great Sailing Era see it, it's going to attract a lot of joy)
That's how when I'm in solitary, I suddenly hear from behind me, "What are you doing, you?," he called.
At the entrance to the pantry stands an eye-fa silhouette that has been reflexed in the morning sun.
His eyes glowed more suspiciously than ever, as he leaned against the wall, put his arms together, and bent his neck slightly.
"The knife, right here. Come on out. The fragrance will be faint."
"Oh, bad. There were a lot of things that interest me."
When I was nodded out of the room by Ey-Fa, the morning sun was all over me. I feel like I've been peppered myself in just a few dozen seconds.
"Wow, my nose hurts! It's intense, that spice."
"... Are you stupid or what? What's so fun about watching food you don't even eat?
"It's fun. You said that yesterday, didn't you? I was the cook's son."
"... only exists in stone capitals, such as cooks. If you want to go for something like that, learn the logic of the world and get out."
He pokes a santoku knife at my chest, saying in a grumpy manner.
"Hey, it's impossible to go for a cook or something in a world you don't know right or left.... By the way, how did you keep my knife in such an exciting room?
I don't think the blade tip will rust due to spices. The smell shifts, I'm a little scared.
"... because that's the only room that doesn't have windows. Of course shamelessness like Diga-Sung who breaks the window lattice and sneaks into another house wouldn't exist that way, but the safest thing is that food bank."
"Oh, you mean that. You took good care of me....... thanks"
Between eye-fa's eyebrows, a wrinkle comes over.
Maybe this guy isn't used to being very thankful.
"... I've wasted my time. Until the sun rises to Jomtien, Pico leaves and firewood are collected. If you don't want to be called a waste of rice, help me a little."
"Icer!... but before I do, can you ask me a favor, Ai-Fa?
Naturally, Ai-Fa looked unscrupulous and disgusted.
Because the beauty is ruined, really.
"What more do you want me to take care of? You've been an outrageous man, Asta."
"No, I also have the feeling that I wish I could shoulder your hardship just a little bit.... Can you let me make dinner for you tonight?
He had a sinister face, Ai-Fa, but when he heard my words, he looked like a pigeon had eaten a bean cannon.
That look, it's a little cute.
"What's that? It's not much of a struggle to prepare a meal, either. It's a job for a 10-year-old."
"Oh. In that sense, can't you replace me with a shoulder?... Then why not? I just wanted to see if my cooking methods in the world would work for the ingredients in this world."
Ai-Fa lowered her eyebrow butt like she was puzzled and looked around at me from top to bottom.
It's like I've even encountered a dog walking on two legs.
I may split my tastes, but I think I'm cute.
"I don't know why.... Is that how you think 'cook' is?
"I'm only an apprentice, though. But I think the cook would be in a good mood for empathy."
"... whatever you want. It doesn't matter to me, like preparing a meal."
When he said so, it was now time for Ai-Fa to turn his foot to the front door.
I sneak a breath of relief as I follow that sneaky hindsight.
This is already like saying, "Let me cook your dishes because they taste bad," so I was half ready that maybe one of the knives would be wielded again.
But apparently, I = fa really thought "I don't care" about the meal etc.
It's a really complicated mood, like a happy sad one.
(But, well, it's true that you inspired the spirit of challenge)
Disgruntled and depressed, I felt last night.
It made me want to get rid of it, I...
Giva meat should be a better ingredient.
Isn't it blasphemy against ingredients to eat ingredients that smell so delicious in such an unsavory state?
I haven't discovered that onion or potato tactic yet. At least only Giva's meat has not been able to realize its potential at all.
The only thing I have is the knowledge of how to cook shishi meat. How much giva meat power can be drawn upon by applying it? I just imagined that would make my chest squeal and make me hungry.
(and......) and I think as I sneak a peek at Ey-Fa wrapping a footwear like a leather belt around his toe.
He wants me to eat my food, too.
All I can do as an apprentice cook is cook a little dish.
It may even matter to Ai-Fa, who doesn't seem interested or obsessed with the act of eating. No one would be grumpy after eating something delicious.
Shall I decide on the passing score if I can make your daughter look a little happy at any time?
Cook Giva's meat and please the benefactor.
When I put it in a very extreme way, now I have the purpose of my life.
When I thought about it, I felt like the dark clouds that had accumulated in my chest had just glanced at the sunshine.
"... Speaking of which, are your feet okay?
And, an eye-fa who finished wrapping his footwear, inadvertently asks me that.
"Oh. Looks fine for walking normally.... Thank you for your concern"
"No one is worried. If you go into the woods and say," I can't walk anymore, "I'll put you on the spot."
Above all, he says so in a grumpy manner, and then adds, "… so if you feel an anomaly, don't push it, and say it immediately".
Not at all, he is a benefactor worthy of giving back.
"Copy that," he said, and I set foot on the morning of another world filled with a blurry light.