Chapter 174: The Bear Opens Shop in the Capital

Chapter 174:
The Bear Opens Shop in the Capital

 

HE WAS A PRETTY SLOW RUNNER, but Chef Zelef was panting as he ran into the garden. Ange walked behind him. For whatever reason, they were moving at the same speed. I’d never seen that happen before. Couldn’t he just walk then?

“What’s wrong, Zelef?” the King asked him.

“My king, and my queen as well. You two are both here?”

“Well, yes,” said the King. “I’m taking a breather from my work.” He sure took a lot of breathers, huh. A lot of breathers.

I guess if you’re a king, nobody can tell you off. A lot of kings have this prime minister-type person who stands to the king’s side and scolds him, ending up with stomach aches from the stress, popping antacids, that sort of thing. The king really needed one of these guys here, huh.

“What happened, my good cook? I’ve never seen you run before.”

“Run” was generous. He’d been going the same speed as Ange’s leisurely stroll. Ange, meanwhile, had gone over to the queen and Lady Flora to take care of things there.

“I’m ashamed of this, ah, embarrassing display,” the cook said between gasps. “I was just so intrigued by the cake I received from Master Yuna earlier that I began sprinting in a manner unbecoming for my age.” He paused and scratched his head awkwardly.

Unbecoming for his age? But he looked like he was in his mid-thirties to me—not that I associated running with any particular age. Actually, it was my personal opinion that some exercise would do him good. Get that stomach of his into shape.

Zelef looked at me without an inkling that I’d been making fun of him in my head.

“Master Yuna, it has been far too long.”

“Sorry, Zelef. I know I always come in and throw a wrench into things when you’re getting the royal family’s lunch ready.”

“That indeed may have been my opinion when we met, but now I too am among those who look forward to your meals. As a chef, it thrills me to my bones to experience your meals, Master Yuna. You reveal an infinite number of gastronomical possibilities!”

Wow, uh. That seemed pretty dramatic, but I guess everything’s a little dramatic when you’re in another world.

“Master Yuna, if I may ask, what is the white substance that was overlaid atop the pancake?!” Zelef rushed right up in front of my face and started to grill me. My bear clothes were supposed to be heat-resistant, but the onesie was still starting to feel kind of stuffy. Yeesh, some personal space would be nice…

I scooched my chair back a little and answered. “It’s whipped cream. You take this stuff called fresh cream and whip it till it gets bubbles. All I did was layer that under a pancake with some strawberries.”

How many times had I repeated that now? Well, it was the best explanation I had, so it wasn’t like I could give them a different answer.

“Fresh cream, you say? I had not a clue such a thing existed. Mmhmm!”

“I still have some. Would you like to try it?”

There wasn’t any cake left on the table, but I had tons of whole cakes in bear storage.

“If you have more, I would gladly eat it. However, I came here for…an entirely different reason,” he said awkwardly.

“What is it?”

“Um, would it be possible for you to teach me how to make one? Of course, I would never reveal the great secret. You must have ground yourself to the bone as a chef in order to uncover such a unique culinary masterpiece! As a chef, it pains me to ask for a recipe, and I realize that such a thing is not something you are wont to reveal to just anyone. However. However! However…”

Sure, I’d toiled a bit to make the cake, but I hadn’t been the one to invent the recipe. All I’d done was remember how to make it. I’d known what to mix together, but not the ratios—that part gave me a little trouble.

The king butted in: “Zelef, I was certain you’d promised not to ask Yuna how to make anything.”

“Ah, but as a chef, my very soul yearns to know how to create this cuisine. I cannot even fathom the manner in which it was produced!”

“Yuna already taught you how to make pudding and pizza.”

Zelef’s head drooped and his voice dwindled away. “That is true, but...”

Just as the king said, I’d already given Zelef several recipes. But Zelef ran a tight ship, so I hadn’t heard about any of them leaking. I didn’t see why I couldn’t share a recipe or two, on a personal basis.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?!” Zelef practically jumped for joy.

“Yuna, are you really sure? Every time this happens, I can’t help but worry. Aren’t recipes precious to chefs, regardless of whether someone promises to be secretive about them?”

I suppose recipes really might be precious to chefs no matter what world you were in. Maybe some people valued them even more than their lives, probably even more if they were secret flavors passed over the generations.

But this particular recipe was all over cookbooks, on TV, on the internet—it was everywhere in my home world, and I couldn’t pretend that I’d come up with it. Plus, I was no chef, and it wasn’t like I was planning on making a living being one in this world. Recipes weren’t really important to me.

The only thing I did worry about was whether teaching another person the recipe could hurt my shop in Crimonia. I didn’t want that to happen; the people there worked their butts off, and I cared about them. But as long as anyone else using the recipe did so far from Crimonia, I didn’t care. Nobody would travel all the way from Crimonia to the capital just for a meal…and I wasn’t going to let anyone beat me when it came to flavor.

“Most chefs don’t so easily reveal their precious recipes,” said the king.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m trying to make a living from this. New cuisines are made by recipes spreading and by chefs putting their own spin on them. Sure, keeping a recipe secret might be important to a chef, but I’m not one. Not really.”

I mean, I wasn’t trying to profit off my knowledge of my old world or anything, you know? As far as I was concerned, tasty cuisine was meant to be shared. Maybe someone would think up something new from the recipes I taught them. What kind of wild recipe might show up in ten years, in twenty?

Not that I’d just share my recipes with anyone. Good food doesn’t go to nefarious characters or people just trying to make a quick buck. I was fine with telling Zelef because he’d keep his promises, and he’d use his own judgment to tell the people he trusted.

He must’ve been thinking the same thing. “It will throw me for a loop if another chef asks me about it, though.”

“It’s fine as long as it makes Lady Flora happy.” Beside me, Lady Flora took another bite of her cake, all smiles. That was enough for me. “But it’s pretty high in sugar content, so be careful not to make too much cake. I don’t mind what happens to Ellelaura, but I’d hate to see Lady Flora gain too much weight.”

“Yuna...” Ellelaura gave me a look, but I ignored her.

“Ah, of course!” said Zelef. “Looking after the royal family’s health and making sure they get the proper nutrition is my job. I vow that I shall not overdo, even if Lady Flora begs me for another slice!”

“I won’t!” Lady Flora said, pouting.

Agh! She was too adorable.

 

“In that case, Yuna, why don’t you open up shop in the capital?” the king offered. “You have your pudding. You could easily become the number-one shop in the royal capital if you set your mind to it.”

“But I’d need tons of eggs for pudding, and don’t get me started on the cake. That’d make everything way pricier. I’ve only been managing because I’ve made things at home.”

Cake would need eggs too. They did sell them here in the capital, but they were several times more expensive than the ones in Crimonia. If I made cake or pudding with those eggs, they’d be unaffordable to customers.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, it’s no issue. There’s a village nearby that breeds chickens. We can issue instructions for them to increase their bird supply and their number of eggs, though it’ll take some time.”

Apparently, they’d already been given funding to increase the size of their flock, which had progressively increased the amount of eggs available.

“Um, I…” Zelef coughed. He’d been listening in. “What would you think of selling it at the shop I am planning to establish in the capital?”

“Oh, that’s a fine idea,” said the king.

Ellelaura nodded. “You’re right. That might be the best way to do it.”

They went on to explain that they’d been planning to establish a shop to train the chefs working at the castle. They were hoping to sell pudding at that shop, with my permission.

“I think,” said the king, “that we could sell this cake at the shop alongside the pudding. What do you say? If you were to set up your own shop, you wouldn’t have the same protection as you might if it were under the royal family’s management. We would manage the recipes carefully as well.”

“Yes, Master Yuna! I shall hand-select chefs that I can trust,” Zelef added. “And with your consent, I’d like to sell the shortcake at a restaurant too.”

Now that we’d gotten this far into the topic, it wasn’t like I could say no anymore. I wouldn’t have to deal with eggs, and they’d even pick out chefs for me. If I didn’t have to manage the shop either, there wasn’t really a reason for me to say no.

Sure, why not?