Chapter 177

“What’s going on? Yuzuki? Can we get a briefing?” “This town is sometimes visited by the Legendary Gourmet. Satisfying him is the highest honor a chef can achieve. And his reviews guarantee success to come.” “I see. So you’re aiming to settle this battle by securing his seal of approval?” “I am. The timing couldn’t be better. With Mamako and Porta helping, my victory is assured!” “And I’m of no use to anyone,” grumbled Masato. “Granted, I can’t help cook, so that’s fair, but…” “A contest between mother and child… I’m just not sure this is for the best.” Yuzuki might be placing her bets on Mamako, but Mamako’s smile looked uneasy. That’s not to say she wasn’t motivated, but…there were definitely some doubts. Then, from across the way, a carriage appeared—gaudily festooned with golden ornaments of various foodstuffs. On the roof was a well-built elderly gentleman. There was no earthly reason not to ride inside like a normal person, but he was standing—legs apart, arms folded—on the roof. “What ho! It is I, the gourmet of legend! Gary Hunn!” A stomach growl rang out like a fanfare, heralding his arrival. “Offer up a dish that can satisfy my appetites!” Gary Hunn snapped his fingers. Kitchen counters materialized in the street outside Yuzuki’s and Raja’s shops. All the utensils and seasonings you could ask for. Piles of ingredients, and empty plates waiting to be filled. “Make whatever you wish and as much as you like. You there, boy too lazy to help! The signal, please.” “It’s not like I don’t want to hel—argh, fine. Start cooking!” Everyone sprang into action. Outside Raja’s shop, Wise and Medhi were carrying bottles of spices. “Let’s do this, Medhi! I’ll even let you cook, just this once!” “Leave it to me! I’ll whip up something just for Masato!” A big tureen. “Think this is curry powder?” Wise asked Medhi, who replied, “Like I can tell.” “’Kay, in it goes!” Dumping in spice after spice… “Yo, back up! You’re not cooking for me! This is for Gary Hunn!” “I feel a slight chill… Very well! Young man, you shall be the first to sample the girls’ dish.” “Wait, why?! You’re kidding?!” “I’ll make a separate dish for the Legendary Gourmet! These two are cooking something just for you, Masato.” “Et tu, Raja?!” One burner had an anti-Masato weapon, and Raja was commanding the rest of the counter. She carefully carried in four smaller pans, placing them on the fire. She didn’t have time to stew from scratch, so she was using what she had ready. The naan, too, had already risen. Tugging the edges of it, she ran a roller over the dough, getting it ready to fry. Gary Hunn hadn’t exactly provided a tandoor (traditional clay oven), but with a Sage capable of grilling both sides at once with magic, they’d make do. Meanwhile, on the Yuzuki side… “Let’s get started! First, fill the deep fryer with oil, and put it on the flame. Then Mamako and I will prep the ingredients.” “Understood. I’ll do my best!” “Porta, can you get some cold water ready?” “Yes! Leave it to me! I can make cold water with Item Creation!” They were using shrimp, squid, eggplant, and lotus root. They shelled the shrimp and yanked the veins. The squid was sliced thick and scored. The vegetables were cut to bite-size. Prep complete! Porta had the cold water ready. “Fresh, chilly water, all done! Here you go!” “Thank you! Next, let’s get the batter ready.” Eggs and water, with a secret ingredient: grated Japanese mountain yam. Finally, a little wheat flour. Just a pinch or two sprinkled over the top and gently mixed in. “Mamako, how’s the oil?” “Yes…I think it’s just about ready!” Mamako had dipped the ends of her cooking chopsticks in the batter and tested the oil with that. The batter sank halfway down and soon surfaced. The oil was hot—likely 350 degrees at the very least. “Good! I’ll take it from here!” said Yuzuki. “And I’ll win this fight!” A little flour on the ingredients then dunked in the batter, and into the oil they went. As they cooked, Yuzuki scattered more batter over them with the cooking chopsticks. This was a technique known as “blooming the flower.” “…Now!” With flawless timing, she pulled them out and laid them on the tempura paper. The dish was complete! “This is from the menu at Yuzuki Eatery—tempura!” Yuzuki proudly held aloft a tray of beautifully bloomed tempura. Sounded like she’d named herself after her own restaurant. But at almost the same time… “Done! The star of my shop’s menu, the four-curry set!” Saag, sambar, dal, and korma. A luxury set that let you try all the curries Raja had toiled over. Last but not least, of course… “And we’ve made… Uhhh… Well, sure, let’s just say it’s done.” “Sure. The only person eating this is Masato anyway.” Wise and Medhi were staring down at some wriggling black thing in their tureen. Masato ignored them completely. “Both dishes are complete, then? Very well!” Gary Hunn leaped down from the carriage roof and snapped his fingers once more. An unnecessarily weighty-looking iron table appeared, ready for the sampling. The moment of fate. “Outta the way!” Donk. “Who shoves their mother?! What is wrong with you?” “Can’t hear you! Come on and judge my dish!” Yuzuki had finished a few seconds earlier, but with one push, Raja got her dish tabled first. The four-curry set was laid out in front of Gary Hunn. The gourmet himself had watched all of this and elected to focus on the meal in front of him. “Let us begin,” he said. He began tearing off pieces of naan, dunking them in each type of curry, and eating. “…Ho…!” His eyes went wide, and he let out an impressed breath. He ate more, getting faster and faster, until he’d devoured the entire tray. A magnificent bit of gluttony. The crowd watching was blown away. “Uh…think we might already have a victor crowned here?” said Masato. “Totally! I mean, look at him go! Yes! I’ve finally beat my mom!” “Oh, Masatooo…you’ve got a dish waiting for you… Mwa-ha-ha…” “Wise, there’s a problem. Our dish just sprouted a bunch of legs and ran away!” “Yeah, that’s no longer food. Just let it go. We’ll put up an extermination quest at the Adventurers Guild later. More importantly…” “Sampling complete!” It was time for the verdict. Everyone gulped. Gary Hunn paused dramatically… “It was undoubtedly excellent…but not the food I seek!” And with that, he flipped the table, the entire iron thing rocketing into the air above, higher and higher—and falling directly on Raja’s shop. “Er…wait, wait, wait! Nooooooo!” The iron table scored a direct hit. It went right through the ceiling, and the destructive cacophony rocked the very ground. The exterior walls somehow remained standing, but the shop she’d spent so much time designing was clearly done for. “The punishment reserved for those who fail to satisfy me! This is how I roll!” “Geez, so violent! …Hang on—is this why all the roofs in town are under repair…?” Masato asked. Either way, Raja’s dish had failed to please Gary Hunn. “I—I was so sure I’d win… Augh!” “Yes, yes, quite a shame. My turn now! Outta the way.” Donk. Now it was Yuzuki’s turn to shove Raja aside. The iron table appeared again, and the tempura was placed on it. “Hmm…well, let’s see here.” Gary Hunn’s sampling began. He sprinkled on a little salt and tried the shrimp, squid, eggplant, and lotus root in turn. Another magnificent act of gluttony. “Oh, looks like it’s going well. Think we can get a high score?” Masato wondered aloud. “Heh-heh! I’m certain of it. Victory is mine! I win the family fight!” “Tch…no way…I can’t be losing to my mother…!” Certain she’d won, Yuzuki let out a smug peal of laughter, definitely loud enough for Raja to hear. But… “Sampling complete! Another excellent dish…but not right!” The iron table was flung into the air once more, scoring a meteor strike on Yuzuki’s shop. Raja and Yuzuki were left staring at their roofless shops, stunned. It was almost evening. They both should be readying themselves for the dinner rush, but clearly—that was the last thing on the agenda. Someone was crying. “Sniffle… I wanted Masato to eat that! I worked so hard!” “Sniff… It’s not too late. Masato, go catch it and have a taste.” “Not happening. Gimme a break here. I’m sorry I forced you to work off our debts.” Teenage girls could hold a grudge, but their crocodile tears were not worth paying attention to. Gary Hunn had been watching the mother and daughter chefs, and he let out a long sigh. “I had such hopes,” he said. “But once again, the food I seek, the meal that shall truly satisfy me…eludes my tongue’s grasp.” “That takes care of that, then. We’ll just hit the road…or I guess not.” There was a bustling noise behind him. Mamako and Porta were at the kitchen counter by Yuzuki’s shop. “Right, Porta, get me another pot of cold, cold water, like before. We’ve got to make a lot of this!” “Okay! Leave it to me!” Mamako was battering sliced potatoes and frying them in oil heated to roughly 338 degrees (a little less than your standard tempura). After a few minutes, Masato began to recognize the scent. That’s… Oh, I get it. Pretending he wasn’t interested, he made a beeline over to them. “Mom, what are you doing?” “I thought it was high time I got dinner ready. Watching Yuzuki and Raja cook just got me all excited!” “Tempura and curry…so is this what I think it is?” “Exactly! The Oosuki special!” While they spoke in family code, the potatoes finished frying. Tempura potatoes. Masato grabbed one from the cooling rack and popped it in his mouth. The moment he bit in, two kinds of heat spread through his mouth—the hot potato and the bite of the curry spices. “Mixing curry powder into the tempura batter. Yep, this our family’s—ow, hot!” “Oh dear. Did you burn your tongue? Should Mommy blow on it?” “Nah, I’m fine. Now this is the good stuff.” Chomp. “Hey, don’t go stealing bites!” Chomp. “That looks good. I’ll just have one.” Chomp. “Can I have some, too?” “Of course! Go ahead, Porta dear. But be careful! They’re hot.” “Okay! Thanks!” Chomp. “Allow me.” Chomp. At some point, Gary Hunn had joined them and was gobbling up hot tempura potatoes. They were gone in the blink of an eye. “Oh my! You ate them all! Hee-hee-hee. Takes you back, doesn’t it, Ma-kun?” “Oh, yeah. I remember that.” “Ha-ha! An amusing anecdote? Do share.” “Nah, Gary, you wouldn’t be interested—” “This all happened when we still lived in the real world. Ma-kun had started spending more and more time in his room, and I almost never got to see or talk to him.” “Mom! Don’t overshare!” “Oh? And then?” “But when I made this dish, he’d always come down and start eating them off the cooling rack! Before I knew it, everything I’d fried was gone!” “She’d be all, ‘They’re not done!’ and I say, ‘Sorry,’ but then eat the next batch she cooked.” “Exactly! But it meant I could see you and talk to you, and see how healthy your appetite was. This is an important dish for the two of us.” “It’s not that big a deal, but…they’re definitely one of my favorites. That’s all there is to it, Mr. Hunn.” “I see…hmm. One question—what do you mean, they’re not done?” “The real dish isn’t just curry-flavored tempura potatoes. Let me just finish one off for you.” Sugar, soy sauce, water, blended to taste—liquid seasoning. Boil that seasoning in a saucepan, add just the right number of tempura potatoes, and drop in a lightly beaten egg, swirling it all together. When the eggs are firmed up enough, scoop the eggs and potatoes onto a bowl of freshly cooked rice. Sprinkle a little seaweed on top, and voilà. “All done! The Oosuki Family Curry Potato Tempura Rice Bowl!” Hot and gooey. Both the dish and the accompanying story warmed the heart. “Let me at it.” Gary Hunn sat down before the rice bowl, looking utterly serious. The sampling began. With a dramatic chopstick flourish, he took a bite. Chewing rice and potato together. “…Ho…” A quiet breath escaped him…and his consumption speed skyrocketed. “Ho-ho-ho-ho!” The bowl was off the table, tipped up as if it were liquid, then inhaled down his hatch! Then Gary Hunn set the empty bowl back down. A hush settled over the street. Everyone gulped. “Er…h-how was it?” “Hmm. Undoubtedly excellent.” “W-well…that’s nice! But…it’s just a little home cooking. I doubt it’s what the Legendary Gourmet was—” “This is the dish I’ve been seekiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!” “…Huh?” The iron table shot skyward and exploded in the air above. A massive firework-like burst that lit the evening sky! Tears gushed from Gary Hunn’s eyes. “As a traveling gourmet, I have eaten all the delicacies of the world! But there was just one dish—one!—that I yearned for and could not find.” “And that is?” “The dish my mother used to make. She has long since passed, ending all chance of encountering it again—so I at least sought a dish that resonated with those same family bonds! A dish made by a mother for her child!” He picked up the tear-filled bowl and dumped it out on the ground. Then he held it out to Mamako. “Mamako! Can I have another?” “You certainly can. As many as you like!” “M-Mom…if you make him too many, we won’t get dinner!” “Don’t worry. I have plenty of ingredients. And stories about time with you, Ma-kun? I’ve got extra helpings, giant portions, stuffed to the absolute brim! Hee-hee!” “Yeah, let’s leave those more at the hidden-seasoning level…” “Um, if you’re making more, can we order some?” “Same here! For three!” The villagers and adventurers started lining up. Soon, Mamako was surrounded by customers. “Oh my! We’re going to be so busy! Right, Ma-kun?” “Okay, okay, fine. I’ll help! But only if you promise not to tell too many anecdotes.” “I can help, too! I’ll do my best!” “Then so will—” “Medhi. In the interest of food safety, you’re on waitress duty with me.” “Yuzuki! Raja!” Mamako called. “Let’s combine our mother and child powers and make a lovely family dinner together! Yaaay!” And like that, a pop-up family restaurant opened for business. Everyone wanted to try the dish that had made the Legendary Gourmet weep. The serving side was kept busy. Heaps of food. “And then Ma-kun—” “Stoppppp!” Served up with no shortage of embarrassing anecdotes that left one boy on the brink of death. Mamako smiled over at Yuzuki and Raja, who were watching from a distance. Eventually, a realization dawned on them. “…I think Mamako’s trying to tell us something.” “Our cooking, our memories… You know, when I was little, you almost never let me help you cook.” “You used to grab my legs and say, ‘Let me help!’ But…the food was for the shop, so I couldn’t just—” “You did let me help with meals we ate at home, but it was basically always curry.” “I don’t serve that in the shop, but sometimes I just get a craving… Oh. So that’s why you’re so obsessed. Ha-ha.” “Yeah! That’s why I make curry.” They looked at each other and laughed. “…It’s been so long.” “How ’bout we make something together?” Raja held out a hand, and Yuzuki took it. A few days later, the town’s restaurant row was abuzz. One shop in particular was attracting the lion’s share of attention. “This way for a family meal made by a real-life mother and daughter!” “Enjoy Japanese food from the real world! Come on in!” There was a large elephant statue by the door to Yuzuki’s shop. Raja wore her belly dancer outfit and Yuzuki her kimono. Both of them were calling to the crowds. “Mom! Don’t put it like that! Mention the curry, too!” “Yes, yes, we also have curry. We’re competing to see which of our dishes get the most orders! Interested? Come take a look!” “The curry croquettes and curry udon are a point for each of us!” “Enjoy our family’s home cooking!” They’d staked their pride on that competition and it was still ongoing—but now it was a friendly contest. Masato’s party were relieved to see it. “Running a single shop together resolves the separation issue.” “That’s all the meddling we need to do. The rest is up to them.” “Yes! They’ve gotten so close— Whoa?!” Gurgle. “Don’t worry, Porta. I didn’t hear a thing. This case is solved—so let’s eat. Since we’re here, let’s try their shop!” Masato took a step forward. But Wise and Medhi both grabbed a shoulder. “We already made your meal.” “It’s our greatest dish yet. Dig in!” Masato was forcibly dragged across the street to the empty lot where Raja’s shop had been. The air was filled with a powerful spice. There was Mysterious Object X, its many legs a-wriggling. “What the—it’s matured! It’s even more horrifying than before!” “Get into my bellyyyy!” Grrrr. “Wait, I’m the one being eaten?!” Eat or be eaten—no, even if Masato won the fight, he would not eat this thing. Who knows what Darwin would make of this survival of the fittest?