“Will we be frying it?”
“No, the butter will just be on top. The shell is so thick that frying it tends to dry out the meat. We are also fed a lot of butter and cheese on our expeditions so that we stay full for longer.”
“Not that we ever really get the chance to feast on crab, mind you—it’s mostly rye bread with a thick spread of butter that does the trick.”
“Yeah. If it’s a particularly long expedition, we’ll even soak the bread with olive oil. It’s hard to sleep on an empty stomach.”
“Oh, yeah! We used to do that a lot! Jerky and olive oil wasn’t very good, if I recall correctly.”
“Your journeys must have been very difficult...” The Beast Hunters seemed to painstakingly pad their meals with extra calories while out in the field. Imagining how everything would taste made Dahlia wince.
“What an expedition calls for is honey.”
“Haven’t you been having a whole lot of honey lately, Randolph? You’re gonna turn into a bear, you know?”
“Fret not. It is a restorative.”
As talk of expeditions turned to the topic of Randolph’s sweet tooth, the mage began flinging flame at the line of pots on the ground. Dahlia had never seen—or even heard of, for that matter—crab cooked by little fireballs. The fragrance of crab, butter, and then char filled the air, making her mouth water.
“Bon appétit!”
“Thank you so much.”
The mage turned over an empty stockpot on the sheet of waterproof cloth in front of Dahlia, making a perfect platform for the shallow pots. Judging by how smoothly he set them down, this was likely a common occurrence.
Everyone proceeded to stuff their faces with the grilled buttered crab, and Dahlia did the same. It was hotter than she had expected, likely from the added fat; she huffed and puffed as the crab scorched her mouth. It was noticeably sweeter than the crab she had yearly, and each bite had also been saturated with just enough salted butter. She spent as long as she could savoring the heavenly harmony of the grilled crab’s smokiness and golden melted butter before swallowing.
“Name me something better than grilled armored crab with butter!”
“Without a doubt, this is tastier than any crab I’ve ever had...”
As Dorino and Marcella lavished praise on the meat, Jonas shifted his rusty eyes. “I believe we have a guest.”
Everyone’s gazes went to the dark green coach that had just arrived at the riverbank; the coat of arms, painted in gold, signified a very high-ranking noble.
“Ah, he’s finally here—my vice-captain when I was a rookie. I extended an invitation to him, as he has a taste for armored crab. I shall receive him; you may all continue.” A beaming Grato and a veteran knight approached the coach together as the rest of the Beast Hunters returned to their meal.
“Grilled tomalley and crab soup are ready!” Each person had their camp stove pot filled with soup. Those who wanted the simmered and grilled crab fat had dishes of them.
“How about some estervino courtesy of Lord Guido Scalfarotto?” Next to the barrel lay dozens of large wooden scoops, insisting everyone imbibe. According to Volf, Guido was hooked on estervino—this was demonstrated by the experienced way that Jonas offered the full ladle to Dahlia.
“Ms. Dahlia, we’re to season the soup however we want. Would you like to try it with some meeso—er, miso? Anyway, that Esterland seasoning made from beans.”
“Miso?! Yes, please!” Of course she said yes to Dorino—she had been yearning for that very bean paste! And if there was miso, there just had to be soy sauce out there too! “Do you happen to know where the Order got this miso from?”
“From our quartermaster. He said it was a sample product for long-lasting provisions. Where he gets it from, I won’t learn until we get back to the castle.”
“Please let me know once you find out!” It wasn’t a request—Dahlia demanded he track down the supplier.
Dorino then cranked up the heat and tossed in a spoon of the miso.
“No, Dorino! You mustn’t turn the heat all the way up!” She was shocked by how loud she’d said that.
“Huh? Miso doesn’t dissolve without a bit of heat, you know?”
“It’s better to turn off the heat first, and you should mix it in instead of throwing it in all at once.” Her impromptu demonstration of miso soup preparation drew the attention of Dorino as well as the mages in charge of the cooking.
“Having tried her wonderful barbecue sauce and spice mix, I am not surprised that Chairwoman Rossetti is so knowledgeable about miso.”
“Where did Madam Rossetti learn so much about Esterland cuisine?”
“Dahlia bought a book on the topic from the bookstore, and she must have studied how to cook with miso.”
“Ah, her passion lies not only in magical tools but also in the culinary arts, I see.”
The others were quietly chatting about her behind her back, but there was something more important on her mind: she drilled into them the risk of destroying miso’s flavor when bringing the seasoning to a rolling boil.
“How does it taste, Randolph?”
“Good, but it tastes purely of crab. It lacks...depth.” Randolph took the spoon out of his mouth and then looked toward the river—perhaps the late autumn sun was reflecting into his eyes. “They should still be in season, and the stream is strong. Vice-Captain Griswald, permission to enter the water?”
“By all means.”
“No nets, Volf, so lend me a hand.”
“Sure thing. Dorino, you kill the incoming fish.”
“Got it!”
Net income, huh? The mention of those words inadvertently brought to Dahlia’s mind the paychecks of her previous life.
As the three knights walked toward the water, they made it look like catching fish with bare hands was something normal people did all the time. Randolph removed his scarlet armor, portable warm air circulator, and then his shirt.
“Um, what are they doing?”
“You needn’t worry, Chairwoman—Sir Randolph’s trousers are still on,” Marcella reassured Dahlia, who hurried to avert her eyes.
“Sir Randolph is quite the expert at catching fish with his bare hands, you see.”
She had little to say in response to the knight. Before long, the half naked Randolph hopped in and waded his way to the center of the river. It couldn’t have been warm in there, and the current was terribly strong. Dahlia worried that he might be washed away, but he looked to be unfazed, unmoving with his face and one arm plunged in the water. Then, Randolph’s hand emerged from the river with a splash—and within his grip was a thick golden object that dazzled everyone on the bank. Volf caught the lump of gold dancing in the air and passed it along to Dorino, who took no time to set it on a cutting board and pierce it with a shortsword. A fourth knight then took the killed fish.