Eins Town (2)
Today, we’re visiting the home of the first-place winner in the dining category.
This family raises cocottes, and once we leave town and pass the wheat and vegetable fields, we can see the cocottes running around.
Cocottes are chicken-like birds about the size of a medium dog, and since they love to run, they’re kept free-range within a fenced area.
Basically, it’s a cocotte ranch—but they’re trained to return to their coop at night.
That training part’s tough. Cocottes won’t obey anyone weaker than themselves, so most breeders are former adventurers or knights.
Since cocottes from the forest would stop laying eggs if stressed, the ranch is quite large, with trees scattered about for cover.
As we approach the house, I see a carriage stopped out front. Thinking it might be a visitor, I walk closer—
“Go home. What can’t be done, can’t be done,” a man shouted angrily at a merchant.
“Did something happen?” Brother Chris called out, and both men turned toward us.
When the merchant saw the knights standing behind us, his face went pale. “I’ll come back later,” he muttered before hurrying off.
The man, realizing who we are, bowed his head. “You saved me, thank you.”
“Was it a request to recreate the award-winning dish?” Brother Chris asked, and the man looked startled.
Seems what the Merchants’ Guild told us was true. If that kind of thing is happening often, it must interfere with work.
He invited us inside, leading us to what seemed to be their living room.
Soon, Emily—the one who won first place in the dining division—came in. She looked exhausted.
She must be mentally worn out.
“I’ve heard the general situation from the Merchants’ Guild. I’m sorry it’s affecting your work,” Brother Chris said.
“Oh, not at all. I was delighted that my daughter’s cooking was recognized.”
Emily then said she wants to decline opening a restaurant in the new town, but askeds if she can still run a small shop.
“I’m not really a cook, so if I had to prepare various dishes, I don’t think I could handle it.”
Instead, she wanted to sell only Cocotte Fry (fried chicken) and Potato Bake (hash browns).
“That might not bring in much profit,” Brother Chris warned.
“I’ve prepared bite-sized Cocotte Fry and Potato Bake for people to eat while walking around the new town.”
The problem, however, is finding paper bags for the food and sticks for eating it.
Paper again—just like with the shrimp crackers.
They’ll need paper that repels oil or at least absorbs it slowly, since people might carry it around for a while.
As for sticks, they only have large skewers used for grilling meat—no small ones.
We could have the Bambus Village make thicker toothpick-like sticks.
Though, for that, we’d need a magic tool capable of shaping them properly.
Should’ve brought some bamboo to make prototypes.
“Hardt, what about using that thick paper from Ayns Village?” Brother Chris suggests.
Oh, right—the thick paper. Might be worth testing here.
I took out the Pine paper from Ayns Village. It’s unusable as-is, so I borrowed scissors, cut it into 20-centimeter squares, folded them into triangles, and tucked the pointed ends inward—making four simple paper cups.
“Emily, could you fill one of these paper cups with as many bite-sized pieces as it’ll hold, and another with the regular-sized ones? I’d like to compare them.”
“Understood,” she said, taking the cups and leaving the room.
“Hardt, you just made those cups—or maybe bags—quite easily,” Brother Chris noted.
“This? Was it that unusual?”
“Well, perhaps not… but let’s set that aside for now. You folded both toward the same side—but if one were folded the opposite way, it might prevent oil from seeping through to your hands.”
The folded parts are double-layered, so maybe that would help block the oil.
If both sides are folded the same way, the reverse side ends up thinner, allowing oil to soak through more easily.
“I think you’re right, Brother Chris. That method might be better.”
“I’ll tell my daughter to try it that way.”
Once it’s just me, Meyer, and the others,
“Hardt, you shouldn’t show new inventions to others so easily.”
“Even something like this paper cup?”
“Yes.”
That’s… difficult.
It doesn’t seem like such a big deal to me.
“You look dissatisfied, but not everyone is trustworthy. Make it a habit to wait a day or consult someone before acting on new ideas.”
I know he’s just looking out for me, but honestly, that’s not easy for me to do.
As I was thinking that, Emily and her father returned.
On the tray were the Cocotte Fry and Potato Bake in Pine paper cups.
I picked one up, checking how much oil has soaked through—so far, none.
If it can last for about 15 to 30 minutes, that’d be ideal.
In the end, it held up fine for around 20 minutes.
For takeout in larger quantities, using double-layered Pine paper boxes should work.
Though I haven’t tested it, this method would probably also help with other oily dishes like battered Cocotte Fry (similar to nuggets).
But it likely won’t work for packaged shrimp crackers—only for the walking snack version.
As for the bite-sized skewers, others will probably need them too, so we’ll develop that on our end.
We’ll also take her request into consideration and reply later.
When I asked Emily’s father if it was always the same merchant visiting, he confirmed it was.
Apparently, the man keeps asking for new Cocotte dishes.
Even though Emily told him she’s run out of ideas, he still shows up every day.
Brother Chris asked for the merchant company’s name—he’s probably planning to put some pressure on them.
Finally, we talk about breeding cocottes.
No one around here has managed to succeed.
It seems cocottes just lay their eggs and leave them, and even introducing males doesn’t change that.
We’ll need to study their habits more closely.
Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen cocotte chicks in the forest.
I wonder if anyone has.
I’ll need to buy some eggs to check whether they’re fertilized or not.
What do you think about this chapter?
