Preliminary Round (2)
By the time the clock passed nine-thirty, our household cooks began making their rounds of the food stalls.
They collected the dishes using what looked like deep trays with numbered tags, and for soups, they used large pots—just like the kind used in school cafeterias.
When Georges told me, “Let’s return to headquarters,” we went back to find the cooks sorting the food and storing it all away into Magic Bags, leaving out just three sample portions.
According to the cooks, many of the meat dishes used similar herb-based preparations, so only the ones before us could truly be called original creations.
Each dish was neatly portioned out into bite-sized servings.
“We’ve already done the taste and poison checks, so it’s safe to eat,” they assured us.
The first dish was a steak made from lamb, topped with red wine sauce.
The second was chicken stuffed with cheese, coated in breadcrumbs, and baked.
The third was chicken prepared in a nugget-like style. There wasn’t any ketchup, but the chicken was seasoned with mustard and herbs, making it perfectly tasty on its own.
“The second one uses herbs as well, but the cheese filling and crisp coating show thoughtful preparation. The third also uses herbs, though mustard is the main accent. The chicken is coated in a special batter and fried in a large amount of oil—so we judged it to be an original recipe,” they explained.
“You don’t really hear of dishes that use a lot of oil, do you?”
Fried food isn’t common in this world, so a nugget-style dish like that was rare. Still… I really wanted some ketchup.
The second dish used breadcrumbs, but since it wasn’t deep-fried like tonkatsu, it probably didn’t use much oil.
“It must be hard to obtain that much oil. Still, both fried dishes were delicious. It’s a cooking method worth adopting,” one of the cooks commented.
Tonkatsu… even without sauce, maybe it’d work with just salt? Croquettes would probably be fine with salt and pepper—maybe I’ll ask the head chef to try making some.
Next came the soups.
Each was served in a small dish, just two or three spoonfuls’ worth.
The yellow—no, orange-colored soup—was pumpkin soup.
They call pumpkins “pumpkin” here too. Probably named that by the Saint from 150 years ago.
“It’s like a potato potage made with pumpkin instead,” I said.
(Here, potatoes are called ‘jaga.’)
“Yes. It’s my first time trying one made from pumpkin,” replied the cook.
“Could someone chill this?”
One of the cooks offered, poured some of the pumpkin soup into another small dish, and chilled it instantly with ice magic.
“Mm, it’s delicious cold too.”
“So warm in winter, chilled in summer? That sounds great—it might work with jaga potage as well,” said the cook, already thinking of variations.
Next was tomato and egg soup.
“There are crushed tomato soups, but this one leaves the tomatoes whole, huh?”
“The variety’s different. The ones we use are small and oval-shaped when ripe, but these are large and tangy. Probably a local specialty of the village.”
The soups ended, and it was time for dessert.
A round, firm donut—looked kind of like Okinawan “sata andagi.”
Then came chestnut “chakin-shibori”—a traditional Japanese-style sweet.
Chestnuts, this season? I wondered, but seeing it reminded me this was a proper wagashi. Now I really wanted some green tea.
Apparently, the next tasting was scheduled around noon. Honestly, I was full already. Maybe I’d walk around to make room.
Just then—
“We have a problem! The entrance is packed—there’s a huge crowd!” Damien came running in, out of breath.
“Then let’s open early. If more people come, start restricting entry. Tell the ones entering that if they can take food home, they should, and keep announcing it at the gate to help move people along,” I instructed.
“Understood!” he said and sprinted back toward the entrance.
I grabbed a megaphone myself and started announcing to the participants,
“There’s already a large crowd gathered at the entrance, so we’re opening the venue early!”
The moment I repeated the message, a wave of people came flooding in.
What in the world is this crowd?!
Aren’t the venues divided up?!
“I think they’re planning to buy as much food as they can and share it later with everyone,” said Meier.
Instead of leisurely browsing, they were dividing up the stalls to buy everything and then regroup to eat together?
“Why do you think that?”
“Apparently, both guilds received a huge number of requests to borrow time-stopping Magic Bags,” he explained.
… No one told me about that.
Vice-Guildmaster Gavin of the Adventurers’ Guild, who overheard us, added,
“Word about the preliminaries spread everywhere. I’d say about a third to a quarter of the capital’s residents are taking the day off. People probably figured they wouldn’t have time to eat slowly.”
Then a young woman came rushing in.
“Excuse me! At this rate, we’re completely running out of ingredients. We don’t have time to go shopping—could we please buy more here somehow?”
“What ingredients are you missing?”
“Here’s the list!”
“Are these things you can buy anywhere?”
“Yes, we bought them all here in the capital—they’re common.”
Then a man came running up too.
“We’re running out of ingredients!”
All right—time for a supply run.
We called a staff member from the Merchants’ Guild, asked where to buy the listed materials, and split up to gather supplies.
We bought out all the flour, sugar, salt, pepper, herbs, and seasonings we could find, then returned to headquarters.
We collected payment and quantities from each stall and delivered them all—everywhere we went, food was selling out the moment it was made. Each tent was like a battlefield.
When we got back again, we were told supplies were nearly gone again, so off we went on another round of buying.
At this rate, there was no way we’d make it to the market ourselves—the situation there was probably the same as here.
By two-thirty in the afternoon, I was repeatedly announcing,
“The venue will close in thirty minutes!”
Here and there, I could hear shouts of “Sold out!”
When the clock hit three and the last customers finally left, we all collapsed into chairs.
We hadn’t eaten a thing since the morning tasting.
The stall owners were just as exhausted—some sitting right on the ground, others turning crates into makeshift seats, too tired to move.
… And we’re supposed to do all this again in Eminira?
What do you think about this chapter?
