Chapter 10

This decidedly high-caloric, high-salt dish had been violently shaking the souls of those who have been up early in the morning as it was now approaching lunchtime.

“Hey…, you’re talking about something else, Elma. We’re supposed to be cooking for the nobility, aren’t we? Are you trying to score points by coddling the servants?”

Georges, who had been carefully cooling his vichyssoise with the precious ice beside Elma’s great activity, narrowed his eyes and his voice was hoarse.

He was a man who hated petty tricks.

If she were going to try to get through a sacred match by cheating, he would object.

But as the servants crowded around the kitchen table, Erma, shielding what appeared to be the royal offering, replied in smooth Montaigne.

“I’m not trying to cheat. You and I have different definitions of noblemen.”

“Oh, …?”

Georges raised an eyebrow at the fluency and content of the conversation.

Then Elma held out one of the sandwiches she had secured in her own arms.

“I don’t have a surname. Strictly speaking, I have no family register, no town to call home, and I have never attended a school that even a commoner could attend. Normally, I would never be allowed to work in a place like this.”

“What ……?”

“Therefore, from my point of view, all those who have earned their positions in the palace after intense study and competition are noble people. –Including you.”

He couldn’t even discern the color of her eyes because her glasses covered them, but Elma knew that he was still looking at her seriously.

The arm that held out the sandwich straight up and that statement seemed genuine.

“The proud head chef of the palace, Georges Ramadier. I hope you will enjoy my thoughtfulness.”

Her voice was quiet, but something that could be called powerful oozed from her petite body.

Georges was pressured by it and unconsciously accepted the sandwich.

Then, as he watched as Juliana and Lucas were offered sandwiches and brought it to his mouth with interest, he took a bite of it himself.

“–……!”

Good.

The open Nan is softer and chunkier than it looks, and the sweet smell of wheat spreads in your mouth when you bite into it.

He bit through the batter of the fish, and the salty fat immediately ran over his tongue.

The taste of the rich tartar sauce and shredded cabbage with a hint of lemon followed next.

The same excitement seemed to be spreading in the audience as well, with “Whoa!” from all over the place. But Georges fought back the urge to do so.

“I am a professional.”

When you come across something good, you should work hard at analyzing it before you wallow in tears.

“…………”

‘To my palate as a chef, the oil is a bit too much.’

‘If you’re going to use this much fatty tuna, you should reduce the amount of oil used to fry it as much as possible.’

‘There’s enough salt in the sauce, so there’s no need to add so much salt to the batter and cabbage.’

‘But…’

‘I can’t get enough of the richness and saltiness of this ……’

Having spent the morning scrambling to prepare and cook under the summer sun, Georges realized now that he was craving more calories and salt than usual.

At the same time, he looked up with a gasp at a thought, and Elma nodded as if to affirm it as she returned to the kitchen.

“Luden’s people are industrious. Even royalty rises in the morning with the sound of chickens and is not willing to labor – even more so with their servants. When we eat, our bodies are almost starving. The degree of craving for oil and salt is nothing compared to that of the princes and nobles of Montaigne to whom you have devoted your food.”

That’s right.

How did he not notice?

Georges wanted to pinch his own cheeks.

So far, he had only served food to kings and princes who were drowning themselves in gastronomy and beauty, sinking into their elegant couches.

It was only natural that Montaigne, the land of beauty, and Luden, the land of warriors, would have different tastes.

The servants, who were scrambling for large amounts of work in a short-staffed environment, needed a meal that would allow their bodies to recover quickly and fill their bellies – in other words, a meal with a high level of fat and saltiness.

If I offered them a bowl of delicately seasoned soup, they’d say, “Well, that’s not much to ask.”

“…What am I doing?“

They didn’t even think about the eater’s taste, swapping the obvious point for an insult, even if it misses the mark.

It was obvious, from the way they smiled and chewed on their naan sandwiches, which one would satisfy the people’s taste buds.

I wasn’t even starting as a chef.

Just then, Georges turned around with a start as the ice crackled in the bowl on the cooktop.

The vichyssoise was being chilled rapidly, using ice sparingly so as not to kill the flavor of the ingredients.

It’s about time to serve it.

“But—“

Georges quietly put down the serving spoon he had once held in his hand.

It was not in his power to serve this item now.

Maybe the two royals would find it more “delicious” than the rest of the servants – no, the former queen is unconcerned with the servants, and he is an eccentric prince who has been busy working out with the knights.

‘I’m sure that won’t happen either.’

A bitter smile was carved into his face, and Georges was about to take off his cocked hat when a voice called out from behind him, however.

“Chef Georges Ramadier.”

“What?“

It was Elma.

The bespectacled maid, whose expression was unreadable, asked in a voice with little inflection.

“That potato soup – vichyssoise, yes. Aren’t you going to serve that?”

“You’ll know when you have a taste… I can’t serve it …”

Even though he was a loser, he still had some pride.

However, Elma tilted her head slightly and struck out in an unexpected move.

” I see. — But don’t worry. I’ve sent over a hundred spoons for you, just in case.”

“What about …?”

Their conversation was not in sync.

But faster than Georges could question her intentions, Elma handled the spoon with an example of inhuman movements.

The moment he finished blinking, a row of white porcelain spoons, filled with vichyssoise, were lined up on the huge tray held by the maid of honor.

Only one bite of food was served on each spoon, a style is also known as one spoon, as seen at a Montaigne evening party.

“What about…?”

“I thought foolishly that a spoonful of it would be enough to serve a hundred people or more. I think your Vichyssoise should be served to the whole castle, even in small portions. –including me, of course.”

“What about …………?”

All he could say was “ha” from earlier.

But despite Georges’ gaping mouth, Elma quickly distributed the Vichyssoise to everyone below Juliana……!

“Oi… hey, hey, wait, wait, you–!”

What was this?

This was a disgrace to Georges, who wanted to decide the end of the line himself.

If you eat a dish that is just not to your liking while you have filled your stomach with Nan sandwiches, you will feel bad.

Yes, and I’m sure the men in the kitchen, the maidservants, the horsemen, and the guards all looked annoyed or foolish again—

“–Uh…… oh my god!”

“…………!”

Georges couldn’t believe his eyes.

If he looked, he saw that the servants were staring with glittering eyes as they shoved their spoons into their mouths.

Their eyes were moist with ecstasy, their cheeks were flushed, and their hands were gripping their spoons tightly.

“Oh ……., Chef Ramadier’s seasoning is really subtle and profound after all.”

“It kills the harshness of the potatoes and carefully brings out only the sweetness and umami. Beautiful work.”

The two royals who eat this kind of food.

“Uma……, yum! Now I finally know what potatoes taste like for the first time!”

“I feel like I’ve been given something outstanding.”

“I feel like a king! ……”

Even the servants were discussing the matter excitedly.

They turned to Georges in unison and ran up to him with a momentum of excitement.

“Georg–I mean, Jiyol, Joo, Chef! It’s good! This is so good!”

“Geol–no, Ji…… Chef Jorge! I didn’t know we were allowed to eat such good food before! I’ve lost it by pouring it out without tasting it!”

“GEO …… Chef Georges! I can’t wait to have this again!”

They tried to call him an unfamiliar Montaigne-like name while biting their tongues.

Their words, so open and simple.

— that’s why Georges was so happy that he inadvertently felt the heat in the back of his throat.

“What the heck. ……”

And he understood.

Yes, and it wasn’t that they couldn’t taste the food.

They were so hungry that they couldn’t afford to taste it.

And now that Erma has filled them, they are trying to understand and come to terms with the different tastes.

“That’s as good as it gets. But with Chef Georges’ cooking, it’s as if a mere servant can feel like a royal prince just by eating it.”

At that moment, Elma, who had finished serving the Vichyssoise, returned to the kitchen and spoke to Georges.

Then she pushed up the bridge of her glasses with a scoop and told him.

“I give up.”

“What ……?”

Pouting.

But before Georges could say anything back, Juliana, who gracefully put down her spoon, opened her mouth.

“Which of these will suit the taste of the nobleman? It’s a toss-up, and it seems that Chef Georges Ramadier is on the winning side. Your cuisine turns people into nobles.”

“You’re also to be commended for your concentration and ability to complete the cooking even if there was an anomaly on the next cooktop.”

Even Prince Lucas shrugged his shoulders at the mention of such a thing.

As Georges stood there dumbfounded, Elma quickly plucked at the hem of her maid’s dress and took a deep bow.

She bowed to show her respect to the winner, Georges.

The crowd noticed this and threw a look of admiration at Georges.

It was as if they were expecting him to declare his victory.

‘What the heck……’

Georges muttered to himself once more in his head and glanced at the maidservant, who kept her head down.

Then he reached for his tall cocked hat – and took it off towards her.

“No, My Lady, Former Consort, Your Highness.”

He spoke in the language of the kingdom of Luden.

He had stubbornly stuck to the language of Montaigne because he could be understood, but this was the first time he had tried to speak in the language of this country.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I think the odds are in Elma’s favor…… or at least a tie. I may have been able to satisfy your tongues, but I don’t think I could have beaten her.”

You can’t know when you’re hungry. You can only walk away from it because you’ve been filled.

‘I’m sure it’s the same for me.’

Now that Erma had shared her place in Luden, which she had always wanted, Georges could get closer to them in this way because this was how he wanted to get closer to them.

“If I ever defeat her in a heartbeat ……, then you will have to promise me your highness’ protection. And, please, my name is Georges.”

“If I don’t, my name will be GEOJORGE.”

He shrugged his shoulders as he told them; Juliana and the others laughed in amusement.

From that day on, Georges – chef Georges Ramadier – would go on to create many of the “edible treasures of Luden Castle.”