With each spoonful, the princess’s beautiful pudding collapsed further. As I watched her eat, I found myself craving a spoonful of pudding as well, but I held myself back and focused on the fruit and whipped cream.
Once they were gone, I finally made my way to the smooth, soft pudding, which jiggled on my spoon. I made sure to get some caramel atop it as well and then enjoyed the first bite. That was how I always did things.
Mmm. Delicious as always.
I couldn’t help being charmed by the perfection that was pudding. However many times I ate it, its flavor impressed me. My hand sped up, and soon the pudding at the top of the parfait began to collapse.
Meanwhile, Parfait had moved on from the pudding and was enjoying the rich flavors of the fruit and whipped cream.
“Oh, my. Are these candied fruits?” she asked. “They go so well with the cream.”
She looked utterly charmed by their deliciousness. Satisfied by that sight, I finished off my first pudding of the day.
Now that the two of us had eaten the parfait’s upper layers, we finally moved on to the stuff hidden at the bottom of the glass.
Parfait didn’t appear familiar with the sponge cake below the pudding and cream.
“Oh, what’s this at the bottom? Bread of some sort?” She poked at the pudding-colored cake curiously.
“Ah, this is sponge cake. It basically serves as the base for tons of baked pastries called ‘cakes.’” I gave Parfait a quick primer and then turned my attention back to the cake.
At first glance, sponge cake looked like regular bread, but it was actually completely different. By itself, it was a positively delicious pastry. Since it wasn’t overly sweet, it served as the perfect follow-up to pudding. You didn’t see it used much in parfaits with ice cream, because it got wet and soggy.
“It’s soft and completely different from bread. How scrumptious!”
It looked as if Parfait was already quite fond of it. She dug a hole in the sponge cake with her spoon, only to spot something.
“Oh, my. Is this cream? But it’s a bit yellow.”
“Judging by the color, there must be lemon mixed in. That’s why it’s yellow.”
Whipped cream was so soft and light that it went well with all kinds of things. For example, you could pair it with very sour fruit, uniquely bitter chocolate, or even coffee. It didn’t overpower them, but rather, made them sweeter and easier to eat.
In the pudding parfait’s case, the master placed whipped cream combined with fruit beneath the sponge cake. Which fruit he used differed based on the season, so the taste wound up being something of a surprise.
“Wow!” Parfait exclaimed. “Just from adding a bit of sourness, the cream’s flavor stands out even more! It’s completely different!”
Since first coming to this restaurant, I’d learned that mixing something bitter or sour into something sweet could emphasize the latter much more strongly. By itself, a lemon was sour and not sweet in the slightest. But combine its skin and pulp with cream and suddenly it was a perfect little treat.
Judging by the speed of Parfait’s hands, she seemed to have taken to this great taste. “Oh, my! Is this chocolate now?”
“Not quite.”
Underneath the lemon cream was a layer of gorgeous-looking chocolate—but not actually. The thing in question definitely resembled chocolate but was a bit brighter in color.
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. This is chocolate custard.” That was right. It was a cream made of chocolate and the custard used in pudding.
“This is a little different from regular chocolate, but it’s quite good,” I explained to Parfait.
I took a bite of chocolate custard. The chocolate’s bitter flavor mixed with the smooth custard’s sweet taste. It gently caressed my tongue.
Parfait was also enjoying the flavor in her own way, her eyes narrowed. She smiled. As her spoon continued to delve in, she stumbled upon the final excitement of the day.
“Oh, my. Is this…pudding?”
“Exactly. This is milk pudding made with cream.”
The pudding parfait’s final layer, milk pudding, was the second bit of pudding in the dish. It was whiter than custard pudding and so soft that it was incapable of holding its form anywhere but the bottom of the parfait glass.
The rich milk flavor was perfect to close out the pudding parfait. It wasn’t overly sweet, which helped soothe one’s mouth after indulging in chocolate custard. In fact, it was because the milk pudding came after the cloying chocolate custard that it shone so brightly.
“Oh, my! I can’t believe there’s even cream pudding! It’s so much softer than the custard pudding on top. How delightful.”
I listened to Parfait as I very seriously indulged in the final spoonful of my dessert. The remnants of the chocolate custard above mixed with the milk pudding.
Eaten on its own, the milk pudding would’ve been a bit too thin to be satisfying. However, that very lightness was welcome after eating the pudding parfait. The custard pudding in pudding à la mode was delicious, but this milk pudding was something else entirely.
The two of us finished our parfaits around the same time and put our spoons down, satisfied.
Instead of offering my opinion of the parfait, I simply sighed out my feelings. “Delicious.”
I didn’t normally talk to myself, but today, I wasn’t alone. Someone was here with me to share in this wonderful pudding experience.
Parfait spoke up, almost as if responding. “Indeed. That was delightful. Enjoying it after it mixes with the fruit juice…eating it with pudding…there are all sorts of ways to enjoy the whipped cream.”
I couldn’t let that go.
“Remember, pudding and custard are the pudding parfait’s main ingredients,” I corrected the girl—er, Parfait. “Whipped cream is just an extra.”
Yes, whipped cream was delicious, but it wasn’t the star. It couldn’t be.
“That’s not true at all,” Parfait replied without missing a beat. “Why, yes, custard and pudding are both wonderful. Still, the cream’s light sweetness, and the way that it gently melts in your mouth, are unsurpassed.”
I immediately stared at her. It looked as though she refused to back down as well, her own fierce glare directed right back at me.
Custard was better than cream. That was a clear truth of this world, yet Parfait refused to acknowledge it. I couldn’t help but get a little frustrated.
Fine. As a mage who’s dedicated her life to the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom, I quite like debating others.
I decided to explain in great detail to the young girl why custard won out over whipped cream in all respects. Parfait didn’t appear willing to surrender her belief in cream’s superiority, but that was all right. I’d make her throw in the towel eventually.
Our fierce argument over which was better went on until the evening.
“It’s about time to part ways. Let’s revisit this when next we meet,” Parfait said as she left, her stride a bit frenzied.
In her hands were the parting gifts I’d bought for her: two fruit sandwiches—one made with cream, the other custard—so that she could compare them.
“You should try these sandwiches and then get back to me about which is more delicious,” I’d told her.
If she ate them, even that young girl should realize which was superior. That’d be the fastest way to teach the stubborn little one about the joys of take-out pudding.
“Now then.”
Satisfied with the future lurking over the horizon, I decided to head back myself. I’d spent far too much time in fierce debate today, and it was already almost evening. I took my pudding as usual and made my way toward the exit.
“Hrm. Things have been quite interesting here lately.”
Before I reached the door, my master—who’d been watching us this whole time, drinking his ale—spoke up with a smile on his face.
“Well, that was sudden, Mast…Pork Loin Cutlet.”
“Oh, don’t mind me! I was just thinking about the old days.” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Hey, Pudding, which is better? Croquettes or mincemeat cutlets?”
“Excuse me?”
Master’s random question puzzled me. I’d had both dishes, and they were delicious, but I’d never given much thought to which was better.
“Not that it matters. Pork loin cutlet is obviously best.” Master sipped his beer, seeming to care little for my opinion. “Now, now. Time to go home. Going forward, I imagine that you and that young lady may see quite a bit of each other.”
“Hmm.” I tilted my head in response, opened the restaurant door, and returned to my own room.
Seven days later, the young girl, Parfait, once again visited Nekoya, gracefully sat at my table, and immediately offered me her unbelievable conclusion.
“After eating both sandwiches, I still believe cream to be the most delicious.”