Chapter 112:
Tenshinhan
THE MASTER LIVED on the third floor of Nekoya’s building.
A long time ago, when the previous master was still alive, he’d lived elsewhere. Once he took over the restaurant, however, traveling home was a bit of a pain, so he’d decided to move into the building itself.
In his apartment was a living room, a bedroom Aletta could now stay in—previously used for storage—a small kitchen to test new dishes, and a bathroom. He used the restaurant’s shower when he needed to wash.
The apartment had originally been a place to crash overnight when it was too annoying to head home. It wasn’t designed for long-term living, but the master had no hobbies other than cooking, so that wasn’t an issue.
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Sunday came around, the day when preparations for the week began. It was the one day the restaurant wasn’t open. After eating breakfast and sending Aletta home, the master decided to tidy the apartment’s main living space.
Man…I haven’t cleaned this place in a while.
The master’s niece had told him that Aletta needed a room to rest in after Nekoya closed on Saturday nights, so he’d begun letting the waitress stay in the bedroom he and the previous master used to sleep in. In other words, it was basically Aletta’s room now. So, the master had decided to clear a space for himself in the living room, which the previous master had used as a study.
Besides faded books, the room held a few photos of his grandmother when she was young, as well as her children, the master’s parents. After the previous master passed away, the master hadn’t felt right messing with the stuff in his apartment, so he’d just used this room to store things like books.
After dusting all the items in the room, he began cleaning. As he did so, he found something—a large can he didn’t remember purchasing. It had a yellow paper label.
“What’s this doing here? Is this…crab?” He looked at the label and confirmed his guess.
The master likely hadn’t bought the can himself, since it contained a bit too much crab to eat alone, and he wouldn’t have purchased it for the restaurant. He basically never used canned crab as an ingredient, and it wasn’t enough crab meat to serve at Nekoya. The can had probably been pricey—it was the sort of expensive crab served by five-star restaurants or received as a gift.
That jogged his memory. “Leonhart’s master gave me this!”
The master thought back on how he’d received the can. It must have been about two years ago. A fellow restauranteur had gotten a bunch of presents during the summer, or at end of the year, so he’d regifted this to the master.
The master saw that the can had gotten much closer to its expiration date in the last two years. He’d planned to eat the crab at some point; he’d just forgotten about it. What’d be the best way to prepare this?
“Next Saturday’s staff meal,” he mumbled, picturing the faces of two of Nekoya’s employees if crab was the main ingredient in the dish. “Tenshinhan it is, then!”
When the master was still training, the restaurant he’d worked at had served this kind of crab-meat omelet as their specialty. Next week’s staff meal was set.