Chapter 88

I have reported this on the activity report and on Twitter, but just in case: "I Want to Live a Slow Life in the Countryside After Reincarnation" will be released on August 6th!

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"Hey, what are you laughing at, Bartholomew?"

"Well, I thought you'd come here right away, didn't I?"

I was in the kitchen to make a new dessert as per my promise to Mother Elna.

Bartholomew, grinning, poked my cheek, which I found annoying.

Should I bite his finger?

"So, you have to make a new dessert, right? What are you going to make? I'm not an expert in desserts, you know?"

Bartholomew, standing up straight, tapped the magical stove and said,

"Well, I'm not an expert either, you know?"

"Still, you always make new dishes. I take my hat off to your new creations, monk. The fact that you can still make new desserts... You have a talent for it. I should tell Elna to have you make desserts from now on."

This guy! He wants me to make desserts! And he's even using Elna's name to pressure me! Not so fast.

I don't want to be forced to knead dough with a deadpan face.

"You've been making special jams by boiling fruits and sugar, and baking large batches of cookies lately, haven't you? You've even been experimenting with different mixtures and sweetness levels, and Mother Elna was happy with them. I can't do that."

We both pasted on smiles as we tried to pass the labor of making desserts to each other.

I make what I want, when I want. This time, it's just a special situation.

Dry laughter echoed in the kitchen, but our eyes weren't laughing at all.

You're the chef, right?

Desserts are my job, aren't they?

Our gazes carried these thoughts.

After glaring at each other, we both sighed.

Anyway, let's make a dessert for now. Thanks to the magical stove, we can now fry things, so I can make what I want to eat as well.

"Let's start with something really simple."

"What is it?"

"Deep-fried bread."

"Deep-fried bread?"

That's right, deep-fried bread. The kind that often appeared in school lunches when I was a kid.

Even though I didn't particularly like bread, I always enjoyed eating deep-fried bread.

"You fry the bread in oil and then sprinkle sugar on it."

"Ah, a dish that uses oil. ...Is that all?"

Bartholomew's gaze asked, "Will they really be satisfied with something like that?"

"Don't worry. It's easy to make and it's delicious."

Plus, it's quite high in calories. After the war, it was used to improve the nutrition of children.

"Besides... it makes you gain weight."

If we keep feeding it to Mother Elna and the maids, who claim they never gain weight, they will eventually gain weight. Then, they'll naturally avoid eating desserts.

That way, we won't have to make desserts anymore.

"I see. You're quite the monk, aren't you?"

Bartholomew, understanding the meaning of my words, twisted his face into a grin. His smile looked like a predator who had spotted its prey.

"You have a nasty face."

"Hehe, you too, monk."

We laughed together, but our eyes, though smiling, seemed to have a murky hue.

"Besides, I want to make something else besides desserts this time."

"Oh! I'm looking forward to it!"

Hearing that I wanted to make a new dish other than a dessert, Bartholomew's eyes sparkled. There was no trace of the murky hue from before.

He really is a chef.

Today's menu will include desserts that can be made by frying, like deep-fried bread and sata andagi. They're similar, but with different toppings, they can offer various flavors and satisfy everyone.

I'll also make some rusks, which are fried bread crusts, for my personal snack. Since breakfast was sandwiches, there should be leftover bread.

By the way, I won't share these.

There are also other things I can make, like pancakes and crepes, but I think it's better to show off desserts made with the magical stove this time.

The more cards I have, the better.

Recently, Mina has been complaining, "The round rings on these slippers are desserts, right?" I shouldn't have made those popular slippers filled with candy.

For lunch, I'll have Bartholomew make the usual meal, and for dinner, I'll make tempura and fried foods.

Today, everything will be fried or grilled.

If I had soy sauce or a special sauce, I would have made a tempura bowl without hesitation...

My Japanese soul is craving soy sauce.

I haven't seen Trié in a while, but I hope she's doing well. I also need to stock up on rice since the supply is running low.

So, we started preparing to make fried desserts.

"Do we have any bread left from breakfast?"

While I was preparing the oil, Bartholomew brought over a basket of sliced bread.

"Thanks. We can use it for other desserts, but not for deep-fried bread. We need to make it from scratch."

"Damn, what shape do you want the bread to be?"

"Like an oval-shaped koppa bread."

In response to Bartholomew's question, I explained the shape with words and gestures.

"Ah, got it. I'll make the bread while I prepare lunch."

Bartholomew started making the bread dough, pouring flour into a bowl.

I immediately turned on the magical stove.

The stove automatically absorbed my magic and lit up with a flame.

I had tested it when I bought it in the capital, so it wasn't particularly surprising, but it was very convenient, like a gas stove.

Before, I had to start by lighting a fire in the wood, but now it's instant. It saves time and reduces the burden. The stove even adjusts the temperature, making it very convenient. We can even fry things.

It might be safer than modern gas stoves since there's no risk of gas explosions.

"It really lights up quickly now."

"Exactly."

Bartholomew, who was making the bread dough, wasn't facing me, but his voice sounded cheerful.

The one who benefited the most from this was the chef, Bartholomew.

I bought the magical stove partly for my own desires and partly for Bartholomew, so I'm a bit happy.

With a slight smile, I continued my preparations.

Since we can't make deep-fried bread until Bartholomew's bread is ready, I placed a frying pan on the other stove and poured in some oil.

I decided to make the bread crust rusks for my snack first.

I cut the bread crusts to the right length and waited for the oil to heat up.

Once it was hot enough, I put the bread crusts into the frying pan, poking them with chopsticks to fry them. They sizzled and crackled as they fried.

The oil seeped into the bread crusts, turning them a light brown and making them crispy.

Once they were completely light brown, I placed them on a plate lined with a thin cloth to absorb the excess oil.

The limp bread crusts had now turned into crispy, wheat-scented sticks.

When I bit into them, they made a satisfying crunch.

"Bartholomew, I'm going to use sugar."

I asked Bartholomew, and he responded with a simple "Oh," so I took the sugar pot.

It's important to sprinkle a lot of sugar on them while they're still hot.

This is true for deep-fried bread as well.

I removed the cloth and sprinkled sugar on the bread crusts to finish them.

The light brown bread crusts turned white, as if they were covered in snow.

I poked them with chopsticks to ensure the sugar was evenly distributed, and they were complete.

I immediately picked up one of the bread crust sticks and put it in my mouth.

It made a light, crisp sound and crunched in my mouth.

The sweetness of the sugar and the bread was irresistible.

Most of all, the texture was addictive.

I gnawed on it like a squirrel and, before I knew it, had put another one in my mouth.

No good, I can't stop.

Especially since they're in stick form, making them easy to eat and hard to resist.

If I skewered them on a fancy glass, it would look great.

Yeah, I'll do that when I store them with spatial magic.

"Hey, why are you enjoying yourself alone? Give me some."

Bartholomew, standing behind me, picked up a bread crust stick and put it in his mouth.

"Ah, the simple sweetness is good. ...I remember my grandmother making something like this for me when I was a kid..."

Bartholomew, crunching and squinting his eyes, might be remembering a dish from his hometown.

In my previous life, it was my grandfather who did the cooking, not my grandmother, who couldn't cook.

The worst part was that my sisters, as my grandmother's granddaughters, inherited her cooking skills. It must have been a cursed bloodline.

While I was lost in thought, I noticed a bowl on the kitchen counter.

Peeking inside, I saw the bread dough in a ball in the bowl.

It was probably in the first fermentation stage, so it would stay like that for about 40 to 50 minutes to let the bread rise. There's also a second fermentation, so it will take a while.

Thinking about it, it's impressive that Bartholomew can prepare the dough at night and bake the bread in the morning.

Well, sometimes he gets them through bartering, and he's been cooking more rice lately.

Actually, the main reason my rice supply is decreasing is probably this.

If I plan to eat something alone and end up sharing it with my family of five, it will run out quickly!

Elinora, for example, eats meat with her rice.

It's really bad. Bartholomew, I want you to return my respect.

While I was sending him a glare, Bartholomew was still crunching on the bread crust sticks.

However, he looked more like a wild child gnawing on sugarcane than a squirrel.

"This is good. I can't stop. Maybe this alone would satisfy Elna and the others?"

"But this isn't a dessert that makes good use of the magical stove."

"True. If we make something that can only be made with this, they'll be more convinced that it was worth buying."

Bartholomew nodded and tapped the stove, showing that he really liked it.

"Is there anything else we need? You said you want to make something other than a dessert, right?"

"That's right. We need ingredients for tempura. Do we have onions, carrots, and other vegetables?"

"Yeah, we have most of the vegetables, but we're low on mushrooms."

"Okay, I'll have Brother Silvio go and pick some."

Brother Silvio is good at picking wild vegetables and mushrooms.

He's probably reading a book or studying today.

I haven't seen him go outside much since I returned from the capital.

"You're using your brother without hesitation. But you're usually submissive to your sisters."

"Of course. I'm the younger brother."

"...Is it okay with your brother?"

Well, Brother Silvio is so kind. He can't refuse his cute younger brother's request.

By the way, there's no authority for a younger brother to command a sister.

If I told Elinora, "Since you're free, go pick some wild vegetables," she'd beat me up.

She's moody like a cat. At best, she might pin me down and say, "How dare you, Al, to command me?"

She's an unpredictable beast, even if I dangle a treat in front of her.

"Also, do we have any large shrimp?"

"No, we don't have any large shrimp."

Bartholomew said, shrugging his shoulders.

I asked just in case, but as expected, we don't have any.

There's no sea near Coirat Village, so it's understandable. Occasionally, the Triéla Trading Company brings some, but it's not a regular occurrence.

It's a shame, since shrimp are a must for tempura.

"Would river shrimp be okay? We have some that have had the mud removed."

River shrimp are long-armed shrimp that live in the river near Coirat Village.