I’m the Lord’s Son
That night, when I returned to the mansion, we had curry rice.
Well… of course we did.
I like it, so it’s fine.
Even though we harvested more than five times as much as last year, I wonder how many more times we’ll get to eat it.
Even if we get rice from the village that’s growing it, our household will finish it all.
If we somehow manage to make fried rice, the number of times we eat curry rice will go down, and the demand for rice will rise even more.
In that case, since the amount of rice won’t change, we’ll just have to bulk up the meals.
Petit barley would go well with rice, but we don’t have much of it. What should we do?
Village Chief Savai said he would try planting it in other places from now on, but whether it will grow well won’t be known until next spring.
We actually won’t be able to increase the amount until the spring of the year after that.
We need to look for barley that resembles petit barley.
Wheat is also a barley… but how does that work?
“Without seeing the actual petit barley I can’t be certain, but I think it’s different from wheat.”
“Chef, why do you think so?”
He said he tried seeing if he could make risotto using wheat grains after hearing my thoughts.
“You didn’t taste it, so maybe you don’t know the flavor?”
He thought that since it was similar to rice, maybe it would work.
But apparently it turned out dry and grainy—no good.
He even changed the amount of soup just in case, so he’s certain.
I thought wheat was the barley used in barley rice, but I guess not.
“Is there any barley besides wheat?”
“The barley used in ale, perhaps.”
“Barley?”
Barley… I’ve heard of that.
“Do we have barley here in the mansion?”
“We don’t, but shall I have some ordered?”
“Let’s try it while we’re at it.”
“Young Master Reinhardtardt, so this is where you were. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Georges, did something happen?”
“Nanally is here.”
“Nanally, that’s sudden.”
I sat on the sofa opposite where Nanally was sitting.
“Sometimes I think it’s good to switch things up.”
Well, I am the lord’s son. But it’s fine.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, I brought the item you requested.”
What she placed on the parlor floor was a … taiyaki-maker–type magic tool?
“Eh, it’s already finished?”
“When I’m fired up, things go fast.”
So does that mean I have to keep motivating Nanally, or magic tool crafting will take forever?
“What about the accompanying tools?”
“Can I put them on the table?”
“Go ahead.”
She took out a tool for pouring the batter, a long tool for putting in the sweet bean paste, a spatula for cutting the bean paste and placing it on the batter, and a thin pick for removing the cakes from the copper plate.
First, I checked the copper plate that holds the batter. The grid was perfectly uniform.
I filled the batter-measuring tool with water and tried pouring it into the copper plate as a test.
I wanted to see if each squeeze produced a uniform amount.
Cha, cha, cha—squeeze, release, repeat.
With just one squeeze, it looked like the same amount of water entered each mold.
“Nanally, this is amazing. It’s exactly what I wanted.”
She grinned broadly at my words and replied, “That so,” her face absolutely triumphant.
“So, now you’ll let me try your new sweets, right?”
“Eh, that’s impossible.”
“Why not? You said you’d invite me when you make test batches.”
“I will invite you. But the bean paste prep takes time, so I can’t make it right away.”
“What? I was really looking forward to eating it today.”
“If you’d let me know beforehand, I could’ve prepared…”
“Ah—this one’s on me. I always show up suddenly, so thinking I’d surprise you kind of backfired.”
She slumped on the sofa, hanging her head dejectedly.
She looked so downhearted that we ended up scheduling another visit for three days from now.
I’ll need to have the chef prepare the bean paste and everything else by then.
When I showed the tools to the chef and explained how to use them, he asked if it would work without oiling the plate.
No oil brush?
I had someone call Maria, and when she arrived, I explained in the kitchen that I needed an oil brush and what it was for, demonstrating with the tools.
“What material should it be made of?”
Since the end looked like frayed rope strands, probably cotton.
“If it’s just loosening the ends of a cotton rope, that’s easy. May I join the test-making as well?”
Her silent aura said: “If you don’t let me join, I’m not making it.”
“You can join with Nanally.”
Maria’s face lit up, and she said she’d make it right away, her voice practically ending with a musical note, before hurrying out of the kitchen.
What do you think about this chapter?
