“I’ll have to go with natto and rice or fried egg and rice.”
“…It won’t be real cooking, then. Especially if we use ready-made rice.”
“Yeah. That’s just putting stuff together. Ms. Itou could do that herself.”
“Should I go out and buy some ingredients? There’s a twenty-four-hour supermarket a short walk from here, I think.”
“Hmm… Nah.”
Chisato was normally proactive about challenges like this, but they’d already finished a big Lycoris job that night, and she was getting too tired to work up much enthusiasm for the cooking contest.
“I know what I’ll make,” said Takina.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“A very simple dish.”
“Okay. You get on with it! I’ll make… You know what, I’ll do some cleaning instead.”
“Just don’t make too much noise.”
“I know, I know!”
They turned away from each other. Takina rolled up her sleeves, tied her hair with the rubber band she always carried, and washed her hands.
First, she took three eggs out of the fridge. Then she got out an earthenware pot that she had spotted earlier at the back of the cupboard. It was the size you’d normally use to cook udon for one person. Takina set it on the stove, poured some water into it, and lit the fire under it.
While she was waiting for the water to come to a boil, she cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them. The whisk had a silicone coating on the metal wires, so Takina could whisk at full speed without worrying about noise.
The water started boiling before she was done with the eggs, so she turned the heat down and added some powdered dashi stock. She’d have preferred to make fresh broth from katsuo flakes, but she had to make do with what was available. She added a splash of soy sauce, and since she found a pepper mill, she ground a little bit of pepper in, too. That would have to do for the broth. She tasted it, and it wasn’t half bad.
Takina resumed whisking the eggs. She whisked and whisked, aerating the mixture until it turned into a light and fluffy cream. Then she added a pinch of sugar to add depth to the flavor and whisked it some more. It was time to turn up the burner under the pot to medium heat. The earthenware pots took longer to heat up, so Takina waited patiently, continuously whisking the eggs. The broth started bubbling vigorously.
“The food’s almost ready. Should I serve it now?” she called out to Itou and Chisato. They both said yes, so she carefully trickled the egg mixture into the pot, turned off the heat, and put the lid on.
Without wasting a moment, Takina got a tray out and set down a ladle, three bowls, and wooden spoons, which she’d found in a drawer. She looked for a pot stand to no avail, so she grabbed a small wooden chopping board and put that on the tray, too, with the earthenware pot on top.
“It’s ready… What are you doing, Chisato?”
Chisato peered up at Takina curiously. She was lying on Itou’s bed, reading manga.
“You said you were going to do some cleaning,” Takina reminded her.
“Oh, yes, but you know how it is with cleaning. You can’t help picking up something to read.”
“In other words, you’ve been slacking off this whole time.”
“N-no! I was just about to pick up these books that fell on the floor and put them back on the shelves, but then I started reading this one…”
Chisato tried to laugh it off, which only made Takina want to rebuke her more, but the food she made had to be served right away. Otherwise, it would be no good. It was a simple, delicate dish.
“Let’s leave it at that…” Takina said, setting down the tray on a low table. She waited until Chisato and Itou sat down before lifting the lid. Puffs of steam rose from the pot to the accompaniment of an appreciative oooh and ahhh.
The pot was filled to the brim with cloud-like egg custard. Each wisp of steam carried the mellow smell of egg and the savory scent of katsuo broth. It was an uncomplicated dish, presented in a way that aroused curiosity, with an appetizing smell and a deeply satisfying taste. It turned out even better than Takina expected. She began to fill the bowls, feeling quite proud of herself.
“It’s so fluffy!”
“Yeah, super fluffy! Takina, what’s this dish called?”
“Fluffy eggs.”
“Yeah, it sure is, but what’s the name of this dish…?”
“Fluffy eggs.”
“It’s fluffy, and it’s got eggs in it, no arguing there, but doesn’t it have a name…?”
“How many times do you want me to repeat myself?”
“Chisato, I think that’s the name of this dish?” Itou cut in. “It’s simply called ‘fluffy eggs.’”
“Oooh! Is that right, Takina?!”
“Yes… Why was it so difficult for you to understand?”
It was as if they were on different wavelengths. Takina had this problem often when talking to Chisato.
“It’s a dish invented in the Edo period. I learned the recipe in Kyoto,” she explained.
A teacher from Shizuoka had randomly shared this recipe in a Japanese culture class one day. Takina had actually never made it before, but her custard looked pretty much the same as what she remembered seeing in the reference pictures, so it seemed like a success.
Itou, Chisato, and Takina each picked up a wooden spoon and a bowl. Takina prodded the jiggly yellow cloud of custard, and her spoon easily sank into it. She turned the spoon around and scooped out a piece. She brought it to her mouth. The smell made it hard to believe that she’d used processed stock granules that were more MSG than fish for the broth. It was still hot, so she blew on it before taking a bite. The sensation on her tongue felt almost like she was eating warm foam. She tasted the rich broth, but as soon as she squeezed the soft custard with her teeth, the mellow umami and sweetness of the egg filled her mouth. The custard was nutritious, warm, and comforting. The pinch of ground pepper she’d added to the broth reined in the sweetness, preventing it from running rampant. And while it was comfort food, this dish wasn’t lacking in sophistication. Takina was very pleased.
“Wow! How did you get this texture? I’ve never had anything like this before! Takina, this is really good!”
“The taste is so delicate! I can’t put my spoon down!”
Takina fought back a self-satisfied smile. She thought only a person lacking refinement would feel smug about having made a simple dish like that.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she said, feigning indifference.
“The flavor’s familiar. It’s like chawanmushi but…somehow, it feels like a completely different dish!”
Chisato’s observation was on point. Both chawanmushi and fluffy eggs were made with eggs and broth, so from the digestive tract’s point of view, they were the same thing. However, chawanmushi had a very different, silky texture, and the flavors were experienced differently, too. The broth and egg mixture wasn’t completely combined in fluffy eggs, which made their individual flavors easily distinguishable. The dish was so unique, natural curiosity invited people to eat more.
“This might be better for when you’re totally drained. A plain chawanmushi would just look sad, while the fluffy eggs don’t need anything else,” said Itou.