Chapter 57

Nobuyuki's eyes were unusually serious.

It was no wonder. After preparing his signature dish, the gratin with oyster shells, he had been told that it wasn't his true flavor.

Recently, Nobuyuki's cooking had indeed been a bit off, even from Shinobu's perspective.

If it were Takanohara, his master, he might have scolded and corrected him severely.

Since Nobuyuki started showing his cooking to Shinobu, his dishes had gradually become more stable, but he still occasionally made something with whimsical seasoning.

Shinobu understood that Nobuyuki was trying to break out of his shell.

She also knew that no one could help him escape this difficult situation, as the daughter of a ryotei (high-class restaurant).

Clovinkel had noticed this.

A true gourmet, he thought, is someone like that.

The customers also seemed to have noticed the unusual atmosphere in the kitchen.

Especially Godohart and Alnu were watching the situation with bated breath, apparently curious about how their admired bard Clovinkel would react.

What would Nobuyuki make? Shinobu had no idea.

The order was for his most confident dish.

It couldn't just be delicious, or have good ingredients, or be something new to the people of the ancient city. It had to be a dish he was truly confident about.

It's not something that can be made easily, even when asked suddenly.

Nobuyuki started beating the eggs.

There are many dishes that use eggs, both elaborate and simple.

Everyone in the restaurant was watching the kitchen, wondering what dish would come from Nobuyuki's hands.

Naturally, Clovinkel was the most eager, staring intently at his hands.

Blantano, who had brought the bard, was, for some reason, talking to Alnu.

Perhaps they were getting along well as fellow admirers of the same bard.

In the quiet restaurant, the only sound was the light, cheerful sound of Nobuyuki beating the eggs.

It was dashimaki tamago. For some reason, that's what she thought.

Lately, Nobuyuki had been paying meticulous attention to the broth.

His most confident dish at the moment was the broth itself, and he had chosen dashimaki to let Clovinkel taste it.

Tightening her apron, Shinobu headed to the cupboard.

Which plate would make the dashimaki look the most delicious?

When she was at her family's yuki-tsun, she had a wide selection of plates, but the izakaya (Japanese pub) didn't have that many.

Even so, she wanted to choose the most suitable plate for Nobuyuki's masterpiece with her own hands.

The runny beaten eggs sizzled in the dashimaki pan.

Nobuyuki's skill in rolling the eggs, using a wrist twist, was impressive.

In no time, a generous roll of dashimaki, made from three eggs, was formed and placed on a bamboo mat.

The dashimaki from yuki-tsun used a lot of broth, so it would collapse without the bamboo mat to shape it.

"It's done."

The pale yellow of the dashimaki stood out on the green plate Shinobu had chosen.

Clovinkel, who had been watching the cooking with his arms crossed, picked up a fork.

"Choosing a plain omelet shows quite a bit of courage. This dish, where the selection of ingredients, the heat control, and the cooking technique all converge, is indeed one of the best to demonstrate one's skills. But whether it can satisfy me..."

Clovinkel's fork gently sank into the dashimaki.

It didn't collapse, but there was no resistance. The cooking was perfect.

With a curious look, the old bard brought the dashimaki to his mouth.

Silence.

No one in the izakaya spoke.

They were waiting for the bard's review, which would surely be expressed in a thousand words.

"...Magic."

But Clovinkel's review was just one word.

He said it softly and then continued to eat the remaining dashimaki carefully. When he was done, the plate was licked clean.

A subtle atmosphere spread among the customers, who had been watching.

They had braced themselves for beautiful verses.

But it was just one word.

Especially Blantano, Godohart, and Alnu were staring at Clovinkel, who was wiping his mouth, in a daze.

"Owner, as promised, I will grant one wish. Of course, only what I can do."

After wiping his mouth, Clovinkel's face was radiant.

Shinobu had seen that face many times before.

It was the face of someone who had eaten something truly delicious and was satisfied.

"Thank you. I have one request."

"What could it be? A request from such a skilled chef is unimaginable."

"Could you read the poetry of Alnu, who is standing there?"

Nobuyuki's request was unexpected.

Alnu, suddenly pointed out, stood there speechless, a mix of surprise and joy on his face. In contrast, Godohart, standing next to him, looked disappointed.

"Is that all right, owner? I could easily spread the excellence of this restaurant throughout the empire. I could even help you open a restaurant ten times the size of this one in the capital."

"No, just the thought is enough. I'm here because of some connection. I'm not thinking of moving anywhere for now."

"A connection, huh. I see. Then, I will read the poetry of this fortunate Alnu. In the meantime, please prepare the scallops steamed in wine. Of course, if there's a better way to cook them, that's fine too."

That evening, a warm and refined banquet was held.

While enjoying Clovinkel's lute and singing, they feasted on fried oysters, baked beef tendon, and a large amount of tempura, washing it down with beer and sake.

Clovinkel kept his promise and read Alnu's poetry in detail, but he decided to send a letter later on how to improve it.

"Let's make sure to receive the letter from Alnu of Sanknussemburk first. If it's sent through Baron Blantano, I'll make sure it reaches you."

With that, Clovinkel left the restaurant as the rooster crowed.

A blue gem in the amulet hanging from Alnu's neck, who was passed out drunk, shimmered with a cool light.