Training the Chefs

Training the Chefs

Training the Chefs

My attendants spent several days thoroughly cleaning the kitchen, making it fit to prepare food in again. At the same time, cooking utensils and the like were brought in, while the underground storage room was filled with firewood and ingredients. With that done, all we needed was for Benno to hire chefs to do work in the kitchen as part of their training.

The day I first found the kitchen, I started making natural yeast at home. I wanted to eat fluffy bread baked by pro chefs. With Benno’s help, I went to a glass product store and bought glass storage containers with lids. My idea was to make the yeast with rutbers, which were in season.

I put the glass jar in boiling water to disinfect it, washed and cut the stem off rutbers, added them to a storage container with sugar and water, then shut the lid. I shook the jar several times per day, opened the lid to aerate it a few times, then waited for yeast juice to develop. It took about five days for the rutbers to completely ferment, and after some filtering, I had my yeast juice. I added water to whole wheat flour, let it rest, stirred it a bit, and done. The yeast (also known as a leavening agent) was finished.

Fluffy bread was rare even in the homes of nobles. I had eaten white bread baked from wheat in the guildmaster’s home, but it wasn’t the kind of fluffy bread I wanted. If I could ferment the natural yeast properly and make fluffy bread, I would have a powerful recipe on my hands. Yeast would allow me to make bread others couldn’t copy, and with proper management, that would be a powerful boon in the market. Well, not that I know if things will go exactly according to plan.

I informed Benno that the yeast was done, and he immediately came to my chambers with the chefs. He was a young man around twenty years old, and had brought with him a girl around ten years old, clearly his apprentice. Once they learned enough about cooking, the next chefs would come to train.

“Sister Myne, this the Gilberta Company’s chef, Hugo. With him is Ella, his assistant. Hugo, you will be taught the recipes of nobles here. Pay attention and learn well.” Benno introduced the chefs to me, and although I wanted to greet them, I had been told to stay silent and nod. Fran would do all the talking for me. Apparently I needed to act like a highborn noble, given my status as a blue shrine maiden.

“Hugo and Ella, then. Allow me to guide you to the kitchen,” said Fran. I had been told to leave all of the cooking instructions to Fran no matter what, so he would be reading instructions off boards I had prepared ahead of time. Gil couldn’t read yet, so we had no choice but to leave interacting with the chefs entirely to Fran.

“What you must learn first is the importance of cleanliness and sanitation. Keep your utensils and dishes clean at all times. Maintain the state the kitchen is in now. Clean your bodies before arriving here, wash your clothes without fail, and never enter the kitchen with dirty clothes or a dirty body. Understood?”

“U-Understood!”

If we beat the importance of cleanliness into them ahead of time, we wouldn’t need to repeat ourselves when they went to work at the Italian restaurant. I had no intention of letting the restaurant become one of those places that served food on hard bread and let customers drop unfinished food on the floor for dogs. Whatever the culture of this city was, I didn’t think a high-class restaurant serving noble food needed that kind of culture.

I wanted to make consommé first, but Benno wanted to eat the finished food for lunch, so that was postponed for tomorrow — it just took too long to make. Instead, since we were using an oven for the first time, I decided to go with pizza. Or to be honest, I just wanted to eat pizza.

“Today, I will instruct you on how to make a dish known as ‘pizza.’ First, light a fire in the oven.” At Fran’s instructions, the two chefs collected firewood from the storage room and lit a fire in the oven. It took time for ovens to heat up, so lighting the fire was the first step. They finished quickly, since it wasn’t really that different from lighting up a hearth.

“Wash your hands before touching the ingredients.”

With Benno and me watching while sitting at a table meant for servants, they began making the pizza dough. Fran and I had prepared the ingredients and lined them up on the kitchen counter beforehand like how food television shows often did. Hugo put my yeast, salt, sugar, and warm water into a bowl, then added flour and began mixing it thoroughly, fermenting the ingredients. In the process, he looked up and gave a little sigh.

“This really takes a lot of arm work, just like making bread does.”

“It would not be wrong to compare the two. After mixing the ingredients well, they will rise on their own. During that time, you will make the sauce and chop vegetables for use in the pizza and soup.”

He chopped up some peeled pomes, which were basically yellow tomatoes, and cooked them over low heat while chopping up other vegetables to use as soup stock.

“Hugo, I’ll take care of the rigars.” Ella, effortlessly using a knife far too large for me, chopped up the white rigars, which were like white radishes with a garlicky taste. Meanwhile, Hugo chopped up bacon, onion-esque launeides, carrot-esque mehrens, and some mushrooms as directed. They both chopped quickly with the kind of high speed that only professionals had, fast enough to leave me impressed.

“Benno, I see that you have brought me even better chefs than I expected.”

The moment I spoke, Hugo and Ella both jerked fearfully and looked this way. The air in the room froze like ice despite the fact that I had just complimented them. The stiff look on their faces made it clear I had misspoken somehow. I looked at Benno for help, and he gave me a gentle smile.

“Your praise is unexpected but greatly appreciated. Chefs, you have been complimented.” The icy atmosphere melted thanks to Benno’s backup. Hugo and Ella’s expressions loosened up with relief, and after saying “We are honored to receive your praise,” they resumed chopping vegetables with serious looks in their eyes.

Benno glared at me and subtly made a gesture that could be translated as “Keep your mouth shut,” a proposition to which I gave a firm nod. ...Sorry. I didn’t expect a compliment to make them freeze up like that.

After finishing with the vegetables, Hugo prepared the chicken meat. He cut the breast meat into thin slices, then sprinkled salt and cooking wine onto it. Ella prepared tasty herbs that would go well with the meat.

“You will now prepare the soup.” The recipe I wrote was for a salty vegetable soup with flavorful broth brought about by slicing and boiling sausages. I wanted this world to learn that vegetables could add flavor to soup too if cooked properly.

“Continue using the broth to cook the ingredients. Do not boil the vegetables and then throw away the water.”

“No throwing away the water at all?” Fran’s instructions left both of the chefs confused. But as they could not defy a noble, they continued cooking with confused grimaces on their faces. They looked just like Mom had in the past when she watched me making soup.

“Ella, please remove the surface foam. Hugo, the pome sauce has finished cooking. Please mix it thoroughly with the rigars and the oil. That will complete the sauce. Oh, and it seems the dough is about ready.”

With instruction after instruction coming his way, Hugo deflated the swollen pizza dough, cut it in half, and started stretching it out.

“Spread the finished pome sauce on top of the widely stretched-out dough, then add the cut vegetables on top.”

As Fran instructed, Hugo spread the pome sauce on the dough, then added bacon, mehrens, and mushrooms. On the other piece of spread-out dough, he also spread out pome sauce, then added the breast meat, mehrens, and herbs on top. With that done, he covered both with plenty of cheese and then put them into the oven.

I noticed that Ella was watching him carefully, almost as if she was spying on the cooking process. Her eyes were filled with the same ambition and determination that Tuuli had when discussing sewing with Corinna, and that Leise had when discovering a new recipe. I cheered silently in support of her.

If we had the time, I would have liked to make mayonnaise and use it to make potato salad using potatoffels, but this was their first time using this kitchen, and they were under the intense pressure of cooking while a noble (as far as they knew) watched them. It was likely that things wouldn’t go according to plan. I stealthily signaled to Fran to introduce fewer recipes than planned and he gave a slight nod.

“The soup appears to be well-cooked, so please taste-test it and adjust the salt to taste.” At Fran’s encouragement, Hugo poured some soup into a small bowl and timidly took a sip. The moment it entered his mouth, he opened his eyes wide and froze in place. It took him a long time to swallow it down, probably due to rolling it over his tongue to experience its taste in full.

“...Is this, real?” he whispered before pouring more and taking another mouthful. Then another. At this rate we’re going to run out of soup, I thought right before Ella slapped Hugo on the back.

“Hugo, you’re eating too much! Does it need more salt or not?”

“Woah...?! Ah, r-right.” Hugo looked between the bowl and the pot of soup, then shut his eyes tightly. He had probably never tasted anything like the soup before. It would probably be difficult to judge if it was salty enough, or if it needed anything added.

“Just a bit more. I need just a little more.” Hugo pinched some salt with trembling hands, stirred it into the soup, and taste-tested it once more. “Alright.”