bacchusnovels Chapter 165
Chapter 165
Chapter 165. The Invitation (1)
The North's winter is long and merciless.
The bitter cold that freezes the earth lingers all the way through April. It is only when the calendar draws close to May that fresh, green shoots begin to push their way up.
One thing, however, is certain. No matter how long the winter, spring will always come to Nortaris.
Through the haze rising above the melting snow, a fragrance the city had never known before now wrapped itself around every corner.
"Hey, Jack! Where shall we go tonight?"
"Hmm? What day is it again?"
"Where on earth is your head? It's payday!"
"Right! Then it has to be CCC, obviously!"
The labourers who had finished unloading at the docks wiped their sweat and swallowed in anticipation. In the old days, they would have passed the evening with a flat ale and a hard piece of black bread.
But things were different now.
"Let's go with Fried Chicken and a cold beer."
"What?! What are you saying, man?"
"What?"
"The real thing is Seasoned Chicken! Mixing that sweet and spicy sauce into some Butter Garlic Rice — isn't that the only way? The Royal Warrant itself was awarded for the Seasoned Chicken, you know!"
Their feet carried them naturally toward the CCC at one corner of the square. The front of the shop was already packed with citizens making their way home from work.
The people of the North no longer thought of a meal as 'a tedious chore to replenish one's nutrients.' Y&P Trading Company's string of successes had awakened a primal curiosity about fine food.
A new demand from consumers who wanted something more delicious. That became the starting signal that breathed life into a Food and Beverage industry that had long been stagnant in the North.
The suppliers — the market vendors and restaurant owners — had a different look in their eyes already.
"Hey, Nils. What are you up to?"
"Can't you see? A new menu item."
"New menu?"
"CCC made a fortune frying chicken in oil. So I tried frying a pie!"
The bakery owner in one corner of the market was wrestling with a pot of oil, sweating profusely.
"Hasn't the bread soaked up too much oil? It looks greasy."
"Bah! You don't know what you're talking about! Try it."
"Hmm…… It's greasy. I think I might be sick. Is there any Cola?"
"……Is it really that bad?"
And that was far from all.
"Hehe…… with this spice combination, it should taste like Seasoned Chicken."
"I-is that so?"
"Of course! I'm certain! The key ingredient was Pepper! Pepper from the Soltera Protectorate!"
In one restaurant, a mystery Pepper Stew appeared as a new menu item.
"What sort of drink is this, landlord?"
"It's Cola mixed with whiskey. Tastes pretty decent. Give it a try."
"Oh my?! It's incredibly good!"
"Every tavern around here sells it like this these days. It's wildly popular, apparently."
In the taverns, cocktails were selling like wildfire.
"Hmm, I wonder if there's anything even more delicious out there."
"CCC is all well and good, but lately I keep wanting something new."
"Shall we try making it ourselves?"
"How about making Braised Ribs with pork? Beef is far too expensive."
Of course, nothing could be perfect from the very start.
"Aaaaargh!!! What on earth is this?! What have you put in my soup?!"
"Sob, sob — this is beyond saving. Throw it all out."
Among the 'new menu items' the vendors put forward, there were dishes so monstrous that no human being could have eaten them. And it was no rare occurrence for good ingredients to be ruined entirely by clumsy technique.
Even so, one thing was clear. Nortaris was taking its first steps, one by one, toward fine food.
This vast tide had even transformed the landscape of the high-nosed Social Circles.
"My Lady, did you attend Baron Monte's banquet yesterday?"
"Oh my, don't even mention it. It was dreadful."
A noblewoman holding an elaborate fan shook her head in horror.
In the old days, the measure of a successful banquet had been how celebrated a musical ensemble one had engaged. How lavishly one had received one's guests.
"What was it like?"
"Good heavens, the steak served as the main dish was so tough I thought my jaw would come unhinged. And the sauce was entirely bland……"
"Dear me, to be unable even to properly receive one's guests."
"I do hope I am never invited again."
But things were different now.
"On the other hand, Viscount Rommel's party last week was magnificent. I hear he brought a Chef over from the Bellua Republic."
"Oh my! From that place where reservations are so difficult to come by? The Viscount truly has capability."
Now it was how fine a spread one could lay on the table that decided the success or failure of a banquet. Putting out unappetising food had become a demonstration of the Host's incompetence.
Social Circles figures — who were they? People who could never bear to be outdone by another.
This current naturally flowed into a competition over fine food.
"My Lord! Urgent news — Baron Hayward has taken on someone from the Royal Kitchen as a cook!"
"What? Hayward has? If they're from the Royal Kitchen, they must be a cook, yes?"
"A servant who used to clean the grill, my Lord!"
"Blast! Then they know the secrets of Charcoal Grilling! We cannot fall behind! Send out more people!"
A race to recruit talent.
"My Lady, the newly engaged Chef is complaining that the kitchen is too small for him to work at full capacity."
"Knock down my dressing room walls if you must and expand it!"
"I — I beg your pardon? Are you certain, my Lady? That space was so dear to you."
"Are you asking me about dresses right now? If this party falls apart as well, I am ruined in the Social Circles! Break through the walls and put in a proper range!"
Lavish and wholehearted investment in facilities.
"Son, put down your sword training."
"Father? Was it not you who told me to become a Knight and bring honour to the family?"
"Times have changed."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Pack your things at once and go abroad to study in the Bellua Republic! Until you return with the finest cooking techniques that place can offer, do not think of setting foot on our family's land! That is how our family survives!"
"Father!!!"
Even the direction of a son's education — with the family's future riding on it — was changing.
"How greatly the world has changed."
Jurgen watched it all with a look of quiet satisfaction.
Now the people of the North sought out fine food without Y&P having to step forward and spoon-feed it to them, one item at a time. The story that had begun with a single bottle of Cola had at last arrived here.
Though the beginning had been modest and halting, Jurgen knew. How powerful a force is a culture, once ignited.
If this flame consumed the whole Kingdom, it would not take even ten years for Britannia to rise above the Bellua Republic as the preeminent culinary power in the land.
Click, click.
The office door opened to the bright sound of heels. It was Penelope, arriving for work.
"Good morning."
"Good morning. Oh? What's that?"
In Penelope's hand was a yellowed paper bag with grease seeping through the bottom.
"Apparently it's the ambitious new product from Nils' Bakery around the corner. I was curious, so I bought it to try with you."
Penelope opened the bag. What emerged was a meat pie that looked entirely ordinary at first glance.
"Oh? It looks decent enough on the surface."
"Right? Apparently it's a Braised Ribs Pie."
Jurgen, full of anticipation, took a large bite of the pie. The flaky crust crumbled away, and as the sticky sauce and meat filling met his tongue —
"……!!!"
Jurgen's movements came to a complete stop.
"Well?"
Penelope's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"……Hmm……"
Jurgen slowly chewed and swallowed the contents of his mouth. It was not in any sense a pleasant taste.
Far better than the Eel Pie once sold at the street stalls, at least — but……
It seemed as though honey had been poured in by the bucketful in an attempt to imitate the sweetness of Braised Ribs, and the cloying sweetness — somewhere between a dessert and a meal — sent a wave of dizziness through his head.
"……You…… already knew when you bought it, didn't you?"
No wonder Penelope hadn't even made a pretence of eating any. At last, Penelope's lips could no longer hold back, and the corners curved up with a smirk.
"Yes. I couldn't very well be the only one to try it. So — your thoughts?"
Jurgen washed the cloying sweetness from his tongue with Cola and let out a small laugh.
"There is progress. The fact that a genuine attempt was made is at least worth acknowledging. Get the Ganjang ratio right next time and it could actually be quite decent."
"How generous. I nearly went straight back to give them a piece of my mind after one bite."
Penelope let out a little giggle and naturally reached out her hand. It was to brush away the pie crumbs at the corner of Jurgen's mouth.
"Come here. You really do require a lot of looking after."
"I can manage it myself—"
"Stay still."
A touch that had grown quite natural by now. When there were no eyes watching — especially when Serena was not around — Penelope kept her distance very close indeed.
For example……
"By the way. You haven't been making anything delicious for me lately."
"Hmm?"
"You used to put together a late-night snack without a second thought — pasta and this and that."
"My neglect entirely. I've had rather a lot on my mind lately."
"So it's a case of a fish already caught, is it?"
Penelope, who had always kept her spines raised, also found herself indulging in this sort of endearing petulance.
"Then shall I put together something rather splendid for this evening? A meal together wouldn't be bad either."
"I don't want a meal together. I want to eat quietly with just you."
Penelope leaned in close to Jurgen.
"The menu can be whatever you feel like eating."
Not stopping there, she met his eyes quite deliberately and smiled, soft and unhurried.
Spring had not come to Nortaris alone. Spring had arrived at last on the romantic front of Penelope and Jurgen — who had been in perpetual winter for so very long.
Just then.
―Slam!
"Mr. Jurgen! Penelope! Something terrible has happened! Terrible!"
The door flew open as though it would tear the hinges clean off.
Penelope sprang apart like a startled cat. Jurgen, flustered, grabbed the nearest papers and held them up.
"S-Serena! You gave us a fright!"
"Serena, kindly knock from now on, if you would."
Ordinarily, Serena would have prostrated herself with a 'S-sorry!' — but today was different. She stood in the doorway with her arms folded, eyes narrowed to slits.
"Hmmmm……"
"……Why are you looking at us like that?"
"You two — the displays of affection lately have been excessive. This is a formal first warning."
"A-affection?! We haven't done anything!"
"Yes, yes, of course not."
The two protested desperately, but Serena was no fool.
Jurgen and Penelope, lately?
Before, she had watched them with breathless excitement — rather like reading a romance novel…… But that had only lasted a day or two.
The moment they were within any proximity of each other they were billing and cooing like lovebirds, so of course a warning was only natural.
"So then — what was so urgent that you came bursting in like that?"
"Oh, right! Have you seen this? It literally just arrived."
Serena set the letter she had been holding carefully down on the table.
Even at a glance, it was no ordinary letter. The crest pressed into the red sealing wax was something one very rarely saw in the North.
"A message has come from the Royal Household."
"From the Royal Household?"
Jurgen broke the seal and examined the contents.
[ To the Representatives of Y&P Trading Company, Penelope Rosemore and Jurgen. On the occasion of Her Majesty the Queen's birthday…… ]
"What does it say?"
Penelope leaned in beside him and peeked. Jurgen let the corner of his mouth curve up into a slow smile.
"It seems the capital has begun to take the bait at last."
The flame of the Culinary Revolution had consumed the North. Now it was time to set a greater fire.