199 (11) Last Supper

That's how I was supposed to celebrate the 9th of the White Moon.

It is the morning of the fifth day, abducted by this hall.

Cry or laugh, this will be the last day I cook in this mansion.

After that, I turned to the cook with a renewed determination to wait either for my ruin or to reunite with my nostalgic compatriots - to grasp the stone but follow the latter's path.

"Make something different yesterday than yesterday."

Roy told me so.

This is another much more difficult directive.

Aside from hot cakes and cookies, what can I make?

"Hmmm...... Um, I'd like to have one for you"

"Now what?"

"In this Genos, is there a dish that fries food with hot oil?

"Deep-fried food? It's not that popular."

"Oh, but it's also possible with the equipment here, isn't it?

As far as I'm concerned, I was wondering if I could maintain so much firepower with my firewood.

But well, I guess nothing is hard to talk about if you don't even spare firewood. The difficulty is maintaining or fine-tuning its firepower constantly.

(Then how about a last resort, a challenge to make doughnuts? Now my drawers are almost empty)

Fabric making is not significantly different from cakes and cookies. I mean, that's all I have on my side.

(Er, this guy used eggs too, right?)

Combine the sugar and caron milk in the kimus eggs, then add a small amount of fuwano powder.

I lost track of how butter was, so in the sample I also tried to make a mixture of milk fat, a mixture of Panam honey, and both.

And it's oil preparation.

With Roy's knowledge and hands, pour plenty of Leten oil into a larger pan. I wonder how many copper coins this will take.

And then I even whisk firewood.

However, care is also taken to put too much in. You heat the oil, so this requires the utmost care.

Fried doughnuts should have been commensurate from medium to high temperatures.

When the heated oil starts to shake every bit, wait a few dozen seconds from there and try putting on a tree skewer instead of vegetable chopsticks. I don't feel comfortable with vegetable chopsticks because they have different materials than the ones I know, but I just have to give a guide with the size of the bubbles that they produce.

First, high temperatures, anticipating the approximation of whether to reach 180 degrees, I only fried one small sample.

It starts to sound a little creepy.

But momentum may be weak. Different oil quality made it really difficult to identify.

Throw a sample one at a time, increasing the amount of firewood from there one at a time.

It is difficult to keep the temperature constant, as oil temperatures can drop again with every story added.

Still, well, the more oil there is, the less oil temperature changes can be suppressed, so I managed to get a rough idea before making a weak noise.

The point is, I decided to finish this training after getting the reopening of which high temperatures I should be able to keep without burning.

(Yeah, even giva fat lard can make fried food. This kind of training won't be a waste at all.)

In the sample, the milk fat and honey both seem to have the clearest flavor, so adopt it.

That is why it is the moulding of the fabric.

There are four types that come to mind with my scarce knowledge. It's a twisted twist that twists a hollow ring shape with a round ball shape, a straight stick shape, and a thinly stretched stick.

I'm afraid of raw burns, so I made it the smallest overall.

And because baking powder doesn't exist after all, it also makes the bite so tight. If you make it too big, it'll be tough on nobles who don't even think you have a sturdy jaw.

Well, toppings, what should we do?

I still had enough skimmed milk to make custard cream, but would that just give me a one-pattern sleigh?

(Oh, sprinkle sugar simpler, that was some way to do it)

If you apply the melted sugar all over it and let it dry, you might be able to establish its taste and appearance.

In the meantime, there was nothing else to try.

That's why I started frying the real deal - a major incident broke out here.

One of them exploded when I put in a few stories and watched the baking color.

"Wow!

The hot oil dispersed beautifully.

The truth is, the oil that flew out of the pan wasn't even a big amount, but it was close enough for me to feel like I was in danger of life.

"Ahchi! Ah, ah!," he pulls the oily torso away from his skin. It was a shame not to have to be bathed in the peeling face or hands.

"What are you doing, idiot!," Roy hits the water bottle and throws a squeezed hand plush at me.

I slipped it between my chest and my clothes, and then I never peered into the pot.

The explosion seemed to be a ball-shaped one.

The other three species are fried in a good shade while twitching and making noise.

I rescued them on an iron net with chopsticks.

The ball shaped ones were also dancing in the oil as they blossomed into strange shapes, so I pull that up too.

"Oh, I'm surprised... if you're too dense, you don't seem to be able to stand the expansion of the fabric inside"

I didn't know one definite reason for this, but I had to see it as a ball-shaped tragedy that seemed to have the worst fever street.

"This is the one that surprised me! Don't imitate danger at the end of the day!

"I'm so sorry," he said, looking back, Roy had a brighter face than me and his hands around his heart.

I wonder how surprised you are. Normal insurance has fallen out, and I have a slightly younger face.

"You were right to make extra dough. I'll be careful in the second line."

"You're still going to do it! Don't do this anymore!

"It's okay. I'm sure this round shape was bad. I'm going to rebuild it into a circle shape."

Remove the debris that was burning in the pan to adjust the addition or subtraction of the fire and carefully add the spare portion.

The tragedy didn't come back. They still had problems with the shape of the ball shape.

"Damn, life expectancy has shrunk..."

Roy's still blurry.

If it's something that reveals a person's nature when things happen, then this young man is not that bad, after all.

Whatever, I used the surplus and the failures to try the toppings a lot more.

As a result, the twist and stick shapes were mixed with a small amount of Panam honey in the melted sugar, and the ring shapes were made up to be served with an arrow of jam and custard cream.

I also wanted to try the style of wrapping and frying that jam or cream in the dough if I had a little more time, but it wasn't that untrained because it's a confectionery making that I don't even know if it's coming up ahead.

"Oh... this tastes strange too..."

Chiffon-Cher is also very satisfied.

One more time for her to taste my dishes.

After Chiffon-Cher and the hauliers' surnames left, I turned to Roy.

"Um, would you like one, too, if it's good? Because I've made too much."

…………

"Is it because I use oil after all? I'm so hungry just to taste it. After this, I also have to eat the dishes I made in my studies, so I want to make some room in my stomach."

"If you say so much, I'll take it... you've changed things"

"Huh? Really?

"Are you standing around because you can finally go home tomorrow? It's the first time you've failed so flashly, and you're on the bright side."

According to Chiffon-Cher, Roy has little familiarity with his employer, Cycleus. Therefore, even when Cycleus returned, he seemed to think about it, being grabbed by a silver coin for sealing his mouth and carefully returned to his house.

"That's not true," I responded, hoarding the thought in my chest that if it ended like that, I wouldn't have a hard time.

"Earlier failures stemmed purely from the immaturity of my arms. I'm still half a man."

"... what would happen to us if you were half a serving"

To put it bluntly, I'm going to eat a little.

"Um... a cook is something that flips to that feeling and asks if it's for one person, right? I'm not even that good at making confectionery, and I try hard frying and fail, and I'm half-service, after all."

"My feelings don't even feed Kimmus."

Roy turned away and said so.

"On the other hand, you don't get a dime. Sometimes a mind kills a human. Cooks just have to think about good food."

"Hmm, isn't mindfulness going to matter in order to create that delicious dish?

"... if you don't want to, sometimes you can't live as a cook."

That kind of thing caught me hard.

And I wonder how big the cook's world is in this castle town of Genos.

Is it not so unlikely that the cook I first met and the person who was once a cook, those two people, are familiar to each other - not so unlikely?

"But I don't feel like cooking in an environment where I don't feel comfortable. If you were told to choose between being spoiled by such an environment or being made physically incapable of cooking for the rest of your life... you'd be in the mood to forgive both."

Roy looked at me in dismay.

That look almost convinced me that my hunch was centered.

But I'm afraid that's not something to talk about lightly in the enemy line.

"Enjoy that, then. I'll take care of my studies."

◇

And it is the afternoon.

Once he disappeared from the cook, Roy came back like this after the bell rang for three moments.

"Even today, you can use Kimmus' meat for whatever it is. … but the quantity is five servings."

"Five servings? No way, your husband's coming back sooner than planned, right?

I inquired that way remembering the odd chest noise, but Roy shook his neck to the side.

"All of a sudden, they say a guest is coming. He said he was the son of a nobleman."

If you're noble, you're someone I have nothing to do with unless you're one of Mel Fried's.

I just keep my attention tight so I can't complain at best.

(Well, I don't know what to do. Cream stew, omelette, picata, mackerel, when, what dish is worthy of closing something......)

So I quickly pinned it.

It was unclear if I deserved to close, and I had a dish of fried food that I was better at than doughnuts.

That is, fried chicken.

(Er, as I manage to substitute it with tau oil instead of soy sauce, myrmu instead of shoga or garlic, fruit liquor instead of cooking liquor, no single chestnut flour, but fuwano powder - plus I even have the seal fruit instead of lemon. The ingredients are fine.)

My stomach is set.

Originally, only one use was likely to throw away the oil during the day, and I put a stop to it, so I was having trouble using it.

Let's conclude the last night with this one dish that was quite good at cooking.

(If I manage to rub something like bread flour in, and I can use eggs, can I challenge Giva Cuttle? This guy is pretty good, don't spread your dreams)

With that in mind, I formulated fruit liquor and tau oil, and I also threw in the chopped myrmu there, making pickled juice first.

Keeping Kimmus' feet and breasts carefully covered with salt and pico leaves soaked in their pickled juice. It's meat that was originally salted, so it would be enough to have about 30 minutes to marinate it.

In the meantime, make an accompaniment.

As a colour, I want some vegetables.

I don't have lettuce, so why don't you chop up some cabbage substitute tinos - but in Genos, you don't really seem to be in the habit of eating vegetables raw.

(No, then why don't you just understand the deliciousness of raw vegetables)

It's not hard to make dressings, either, because you have the oil of Leten and the vinegar of Mammalia. Whatever, let me also serve you with mayonnaise.

Thoughts and hand movements were lighter because of the extraordinarily lighter head and chest than yesterday.

Where Zida took on her role as a messenger, things don't necessarily move significantly.

But still, when I said I was still alive - I was just told by the i-fa that I managed to stay healthy in this world, and it was completely different for me to have a heart.

(Still, if the rescue hands don't make it, I'll have to round Cycleus with three inches in the mouth. Absolutely, I'll live with it at all costs)

I worked on making dressings.

Stir the minced myrmu and aria in the oil of leten and add a small amount of chit fruit there as well. While I was cooling that guy I transferred to a deep dish, I now scraped down the raw aria and myrmu, put in the mammalian vinegar and reten oil in a 7-to-3 ratio, mixed them all together, and then tasted them with salt and sugar.

Mayonnaise is also made using the same procedure as yesterday, heading to the sorting of vegetables.

Just chiseled Tino, just lonely.

So I also decided to add Aria, Tarapa and Nennon.

Aria and Tarapa are not as strong as carrots, so more for colour. Once everything is chopped into pieces, mix thoroughly in a bowl.

Then the next step is to finally fry Kimmus.

Cut the pickled juice well, tease the melted eggs, then cover with fuwano flour.

The temperature of the oil is the same as that of the donut.

When I relied on the feeling gained during the day to throw Kimmus breasts, the cook again sounded a petite tone.

While I watch out for changes in the shade of my clothes, I'll first try to pull them up according to my old memories.

It is a stunning fox-coloured grill.

It was the norm in my house and in my shop to put this much through the fire.

However, this shade is not always the best because all the materials used are different.

I put it on a gold net and waited for the excess oil to fall before I tried to dimension it with a meat cutter.

In the meantime, the fire seems to be well through.

Now, take a taste - the hot oil and gravy still spread in my mouth with great momentum.

It is a fuwano flour close to flour rather than single chestnut flour, so it has a slightly softer crisp texture.

Personally, it is difficult to discard the crisp texture of single chestnut flour, but it was delicious enough.

Meat, too, is exquisite softness.

Apparently, it's going to be the same as fried chicken in my world.

I looked back at Roy with deep satisfaction.

"How would you like to taste it too?

"... Hmm. You look so confident. I told you at noon, Genos, it's not popular to fry these days, is it?

"Really? It was a classic dish that didn't matter if it was popular in my hometown."

Roy pinched half a chip of fried chicken with a very careful looking face and threw it into his mouth.

Close your eyes and chew it in your mind and drink it down.

"... Damn, it's delicious," Roy said to me with his eyes closed.

"Thank you. Well, you're finishing it."

Throw breast and momomo meat into the iron pan one after the other. While adjusting the heat reduction due to its bouncing foam condition, it completed fried fried for 5 people in as small portions as possible.

Serve on the same round ceramic dish as the salad and add the seal fruit at the end.

The dressing and mayonnaise were prepared in a different vessel because the flavors would mix.

With this, it is complete.

"... this will be the last time you will be poisoning Asta's cooking..."

Chiffon-Cher, who was invited into the kitchen, mouthed a split fried chicken as he smiled like a fairy as usual.

"Oh... this is the first time I've ever spoken of a dish called fried food... it's so delicious..."

"Yes, I love it, too."

That's how after his poisonous work, Chiffon-Cher drooped his head deep.

"I will now carry you... I will take care of you until tomorrow morning... thank you until today..."

"I didn't do anything to thank you."

After I answered that, I realized.

Maybe she said thank you for the delicious food until today.

But such words do not deserve the slave of a venomous connoisseur. Still, I couldn't help but say that, Chiffon-Cher's eyes said.

"... are you going to stay in the cook until the last day like this?

After Chiffon-Cher and his surnames left, Roy came up asking that.

"Yes, because you can't waste your time. If I'm not interrupting, I'm going to let you."

Roy remained silent and got to his job.

Usually, cooking assistants and others gather to cook dinner for about six people, but since I started to stay, no visitors have left. It seems to be Refraia's idea to keep the mansion's people in contact with me as much as possible. Roy makes dozens of main dishes on his own, and the side dishes even have other cooks and assistants in another kitchen, he said.

Roy's cooking always had a complex taste.

But from what I hear, this still considerably limits the type and quantity of ingredients and seasonings. The story was that these supplies were only prepared for my husband, and that the servants were only keeping them in their spills.

On the other hand, he says he is allowed to use almost unlimited ingredients and seasonings in his studies.

The amount used in the study is known anyway, and it's not worth keeping it in the mansion if you don't train it that way.

From that writ of passage and Roy's own mouthfeel, he said brushing his arms on this occasion seemed to be his first job, and cooking for servants seemed to be nothing more than an afterthought.

Also for the record, Aria was seldom used in those cooking.

Speaking of which, I think Camua-Josh also said that Aria is an ingredient for the common people and rarely sees her sold in the castle town.

Such aria was well kept in place for this cook, but for now it looked like it was regarded as an ingredient unworthy of use for this Roy.

(If it's nutritious and tastes good, it should be an excellent ingredient regardless of the price)

While I was sneaking around on that, I let Roy's cooking be observed that day as I punched into my studies as well.

"Is it a pot today"

In a milk fat and vanilla soup reminiscent of each snack, add the fuwano dough with the nuts carved by Roy.

Roy glanced at me and then snapped in a low voice, "To this guy..."

but I kept my mouth shut, so I said, "What is it?" I'll ask.

"... if I mix this guy with the fuwano powder stir-fried in milk fat... what the hell will happen?

Without looking at me, Roy said so.

"Hmm," I put my arms together.

"What do you think? Originally, it's a dish that uses a lot of milk fat, and it just feels like thickening this juice makes it harder to drink."

It doesn't mean that the taste will improve if it is tailored to the stew style.

Roy starts stirring the pan "well".

"... in the Inn Town, you must be calling your reputation with sawdust"

"Yeah, well, I was helped by a material called giva meat."

"Are you sure you can eat Giva meat? Isn't that so hard meat that you can't bite it off without the folks by the woods?

"That's not true. It's just a little bit more chewy than caron's meat. It's not beaten at all by the taste, and it's delicious whether it's baked, boiled or boiled, Giva meat is"

"I can't believe you're talking like that."

Speaking of which, if I leave this cook tonight, it could be a lifetime goodbye to Roy.

Have we spared that and are we talking like this now?

(Then I wish you'd treated me normally from the start)

I wasn't that bad about this young man named Roy either.

It may not be a good-bye, arrogant, noseless temper, but if we could meet more normally and interact more normally, I would even think that would have made us good friends as the same cook.

There was just one thing I couldn't see.

"Um, what feelings do you have about something called the people of Mahydra?

"Huh? What, all of a sudden?

Depending on Roy's reaction, he was going to undo the question immediately, but fortunately, he was just doing something about it in a vain way.

"No. I was born exotic, and the one about Selva and Mahydra is totally unpinned. Do you hate the people of the North as people of hostile nations?

"You're a really abrupt bastard.... there's no hatred or flattery, slaves are slaves."

"I don't really know what that slave is either. I purely doubt this, but is it something that doesn't treat people so crudely that they don't hate or resent them and their consciences don't hurt?

"... don't get me into a lot of depressing difficulties. Why are you bringing that story to me now?

"Of course, there's one thing about Chiffon-Cher... and I have a mixed-race acquaintance born between North and West."

Camua-Josh's neat figure that I haven't seen in a long time comes to mind in my brain.

"That's not even a person I can truly respect, but he's quite an attractive person... and he's also the kind of person who I think wouldn't have been so puzzled if he hadn't been treated unfairly by mixed blood. So, to be very frank, the idea that I was born to discriminate against people doesn't suit my skin from the bottom of my heart."

"But... in Mahydra, Selva's people are being used as slaves, right? We're not the only ones to blame."

"I'm not blaming you. I just doubt it. Even in Genos, far from Mahdra, if there is a deep resentment towards the people of the North, it is still plausible."

Roy stopped cooking and looked back at me like he was sick of it.

"I'm telling you, I didn't whip a slave, did I? Only the nobleman of the owner is allowed to do so."

"But you tried to throw an earthen bottle, didn't you?

"That's because he missed the joke!... No, now that I think about it, it wasn't the wrong word..."

After saying that much, Roy suddenly started twitching like a child.

"Oh, my God, is this the last time you want me to complain? If you don't care what I do, why don't you just say that more easily!

"You don't care, you're just wondering. For the future, I just wanted to hear a few opinions from the people of the West. If you've offended me, I won't."

Roy silenced himself with a blurry face.

I, too, decide to go back to studying myself, reflecting on whether I have slapped an extra mouth.

Then, as if waiting for that conversation to break off, the cook's door opened from the outside.

"Dear Asta, may I speak to you a moment... Mr. Refraia is calling you..."

Naturally, it was Chiffon-Cher.

"After our last supper, will we finally have your thoughts? It would be more important if you let your body go."

"No… apparently the guest of the evening wants to exchange words with Master Asta…"

"Huh? But that's the son of some nobleman, isn't it?

"Yes... you are the second son of Count Dalaim's family, Master Polearth..."

For me, he is a noble enemy, except Melfried.

Even that Melfrid is not a true ally, but rather a pattern of whether or not he has managed to build a relationship of fighting together.

"That's a little something you'd like to refrain from. I'm not in a position to get to know any more nobles."

"You, nobleman, are you going to call me down and say no to that? You know, even if it wasn't Master Refraia, I'd swing the whip up, right?

With a bumpy face, Roy interrupted.

"You're talking about giving me copper coins because I like the food anyway. You can't even expect a silver coin from Dareim's second son, but I'm sure you won't have any trouble getting it, will you?

Apparently the nobles who control this town are not so much respected by the people either.

Or that doesn't make my feelings that peaceful.

"But I've been abducted by force, haven't I? Isn't it a little strange to engage that with a guest?

"I don't know. Haven't you been complimented by your guests and wanted to brag about it? I just found out what's going on back there, and I don't think the second son of the Dareim family can go against the Turan people."

More and more, it seems like a story that does not benefit me.

"Either way, Master Refraia is offering forgiveness, so I have no right to refuse you. Go away."

That's why I went down the corridor with Chiffon-Cher and the soldiers as I sighed.

As far as I'm concerned, that's one of the things that Lifreia cared most about in this situation.

(Well, if you were that short-circuited daughter, there might be a chance you'd offer forgiveness without any deep thoughts... but no way is that the prospect of moving my figure into the Marquis' house somehow?

Zida's incomprehensible facts are not passed on to her fellow forest brethren or to Zashma.

It was lethal to be transferred from this mansion here, no matter what you think.

(If that's what you're up to, I'll stay in this mansion no matter what kind of lies you line up)

Sad, I couldn't help but think it was Zashma or Melfrid's saving hand. I hadn't even heard from Camuy-Josh that there were other collaborator nobles in Melfrid, etc., and even if the hand of salvation were to be reached, it would be tomorrow morning, because I assumed.

With that in mind, I was walked around the labyrinthine corridor and stood in front of a luxurious door that looked familiar.

Apparently they were enjoying dinner in a room with that chandelier and four stone statues installed.

"... Before you enter the room, I'll just say one thing. Never speak your name or personality in exchange for a Guest."

That's what the guiding soldier told me, and I'll show you my face.

"If you tell me not to, I will obey you, but is it not disrespectful not to even name your noble guest?

"... that's not what you care about"

The soldier called inside the door after abandoning it with an unchallenged voice.

"We have brought the cooks of the emigrants!

And then the door opens.

Inside, there were certainly five figures and Musul, the martial officer guarding it, waiting.

On the upper seat, of course, is a formation of Refraia.

In the same pure white dress as the other day, he drapes a frill-ridden front over his chest that is not significantly different from that dress, occupying a bench full of four by himself.

On the right hand side, Deal and his father.

Dial wore a costume like a cobalt blue piece that was much more qualitative than the princess, but sufficiently superior, to put it on the chair properly.

She even has forehead hair today with silver hair decorations and is very cute. And yet, without trying to look at me, he has a well-taken look.

I guess the fact that you haven't let Dial out of the room is still after you've been blown into the falsehood that you hired me in some way.

Whatever it was, next to it seemed to be the father of Deal, although it was the first one you saw.

How small and disappointing he is as a people of the south, wearing a collared top and western-style footwear that looks good quality after all. Hair and mustaches were still normal brown rather than raw, like my daughter's, with stubbornly glowing green eyes.

Across the street, today's guests are seated.

Indeed, he was an aristocratic figure.

Although not a gorgeous outfit for once, it is wrapped around a cream-colored long coat with embroidered bands, shining subtle gemstones and silver finishes on the arms and neck.

The dark brown hair was perfectly applied to his head, a young man not so much obese but with a plump and round physique.

The colour of the skin is yellowbrown and the colour of the eyes is dark brown.

I'm sure this is what you do with Lord Polearth, the second son of the Count Dalaim family.

But...

When I confessed, it wasn't until much later that I was able to observe them closely that way.

My eyes were swallowed by the woman next to Pole Earth the moment I entered the room.

She was a young, uninterruptedly beautiful woman.

A smooth piece of cloth covering the bottom from the waist on the silvercrafted chest. The lines of the foot peeking through its slit-like mating eyes are so glossy.

From his shoulders, he was still wearing a shawl of intricately tattooed woven thin matter, but his tight torso and so on was completely obnoxious.

Long hair is knitted with lots of spicy silver and gemstone decorations.

In particular, a large three-day moon-shaped silver workmanship was lowered on both of its ears, which sparkled in the light of the chandelier.

There are also a number of rings on the fingertips.

On his wrist, a thin silver ring was shaking.

Had she not been as beautiful a woman as she would have been, it would have been a disgusting ornament.

She was a really beautiful woman.

In 17 years of my life, I don't think I've ever met a woman as beautiful as her.

And...

The woman had long golden brown hair and glowing blue eyes and even creamy chocolate-colored skin stronger than anyone else.

"After all, there seems to have been no mistake"

The woman said so in a voice that was not big but strong as steel.

"That is my family, Asta of Fa's house. Now that I know that, let me take you back here."

Rin and dressed in a beautiful outfit, Ai-Fa made me state that.