Chapter 29

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Regarding the parts that have been published in book form, I have intentionally left the typos, omissions, and additions as they are, thinking that they might serve as reference material later on.

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Like a scene from an alien capture operation, I was escorted by two adults and taken to the kitchen of the neighboring inn and restaurant.

The kitchen had an atmosphere that seemed to come straight out of the 1950s, and it was very small.

On the counter, there were blocks of pork, eggs, breadcrumbs, and flour.

"Can a kid like you really cook?"

The one who cast a skeptical glance was the owner of the restaurant and inn, a young man with brown hair, a slightly menacing look, and no eyebrows. Apparently, after his father passed away last year, he has been running the business with his mother. It seems that he was in a bad relationship when he was younger, and Mr. Laurent made him straighten up, so he can't stand up to him. Most of the people who have shops in the Kikunoi district's shopping street are somehow indebted to Mr. Laurent. Unfortunately, there are no merchant or craft guilds in Kikunoi, so the shopping street values horizontal connections, and Mr. Laurent is like a neighborhood opinion leader or a community leader.

Before coming here, Mr. Romanov told me that my father probably wanted Mr. Laurent to announce a tax reduction to everyone as a representative.

Let's get back to the story.

Standing on a small chair as a stepping stool, I borrowed an apron, a knife, and a cutting board. The blade looked quite sharp, so I had to be careful. After washing my hands thoroughly, I placed the block of meat on the cutting board, and the young man without eyebrows barked.

"That knife is super sharp! Don't cut your fingers!"

"Thank you, I'll be careful."

The meat was a bright pink, and the fat was a dazzling white and very soft. As I slowly slid the blade, the meat parted as if it were melting. This time, I cut the meat into the perfect thickness and placed it on the cutting board. I then inserted the knife between the fat and the meat to cut the tendons and pounded it with the back of the knife. I hummed the march of toy soldiers, a classic cooking tune. After pounding the meat evenly, I seasoned it with salt and pepper. Pepper isn't cheap, but it's not a precious item, so I used it generously. While the seasoning was being absorbed, I cracked the eggs and put the flour and breadcrumbs on separate plates. However, with my small hands, it was difficult to do it properly. The young man without eyebrows entered the kitchen with a sullen face.

"What are you going to do with the eggs? Mix them?"

"Yes, please mix them first."

"Okay."

He quickly mixed the eggs in the bowl. Ideally, I would have used a bowl or something, but since there wasn't one, I had him pour the eggs into a plate. Still sullen, he prompted me for the next step.

"What's next?"

"Please coat the meat with flour and shake off the excess."

"Okay. And then?"

"Um, dip the floured meat in the eggs and coat it evenly. After that, coat it with breadcrumbs."

"Got it... I'm done with the breadcrumbs. Should I shake off the excess again?"

"Yes, please. Once that's done, coat it again in the order of flour, eggs, and breadcrumbs."

"Huh? Again?"

Despite his sullenness, the young man handled the meat carefully. While he was doing that, I tried to prepare the frying oil, but he stopped me, saying it was dangerous, and it seemed he would do it himself. So, I decided to cut some cabbage. While I was producing shredded cabbage, the young man dipped the chopsticks into the heated oil, and bubbles formed quietly.

"Put the meat in and fry it. When it turns a light golden color, place it on a rack to drain the oil."

"Hmm..."

He carefully cooked the meat without moving it too much until it turned a light golden color. While draining the oil, he raised the temperature of the pot.

"What's next?"

"Insert the chopsticks into the oil. When it starts to bubble vigorously, put the meat in again to fry it. This will make the coating crispy."

"Got it..."

While he was frying the meat, I placed the shredded cabbage on a plate and found lemons and radishes in the refrigerator. I grated the radish, cut the lemon, and made a simple ponzu sauce with vinegar, soy sauce, and lemon juice.

"Here's the tonkatsu."

"Wow, this is..."

Mr. Romanov took the first bite. The sound of the crispy coating was pleasant to the ear, and Mr. Laurent followed suit.

"Wow! This is great. The coating is crispy, but the meat is tender, and it's full of juice."

"It's delicious and quite good."

"By the way, you can also squeeze some lemon on it, or use grated radish and ponzu sauce. You can also enjoy it with salt or soy sauce. If it gets cold, you can simmer it with onions and green onions and serve it with an egg."

While the two of them were eating, the young man without eyebrows hesitantly reached for the tonkatsu with his chopsticks. He bit into the well-fried coating, chewed, and nodded, then tried it with lemon and grated ponzu sauce. After putting down his chopsticks, he suddenly bowed deeply.

"I'm sorry for saying 'a kid like you can't do it'!"

"Eh!? No, it's fine..."

It's true that I'm a kid, and I might seem a bit cheeky.

But the young man, who seems to be quite serious, wouldn't lift his head. I was wondering what to do when he suddenly knelt at my feet.

"From now on, I will call you Master!"

...How did it come to this!?

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