Chapter 48
“A restaurant imitating Maison Monbel has appeared.”
The first time I heard about it was during the morning meeting.
Uncle Bernard said it while quietly reading a report as usual.
“Restaurants imitating Maison Monbel are appearing in the capital and nearby cities.”
Marie immediately frowned.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that too fast?”
“Rumors spread quickly.”
Uncle Bernard turned the page.
“A restaurant called <Blue Silverware> has opened in the capital, and a place called <The Count’s Dinner> has opened in an eastern commercial city. Both operate by reservation, serve multiple plates in sequence, and give each meal a name.”
“They give them names?”
“Yes. The signature meal at Blue Silverware is apparently called ‘Forgiveness Beneath the Moonlight.’”
Marie frowned.
“What kind of food is that?”
“Apparently, it was a thin cream soup.”
“That doesn’t match the name at all.”
The person who made it probably didn’t know what it meant either.
Uncle Bernard continued.
“The Count’s Dinner apparently has a menu item called ‘Meat of the Fallen Sun.’”
“What about that one?”
“Roast pork.”
“Since when was the sun a pig?”
Marie looked dumbfounded.
“They’re totally copying us.”
“You could say that.”
Thomas and Nina looked worried too.
Ria bit her lip, while Baron looked as though he thought some kind of war had begun.
Elysia took the report and read it, her expression growing colder.
“The prices are high, too. They’re cheaper than Maison Monbel, but far more expensive than ordinary restaurants.”
“That is correct.”
“Then it’s a problem.”
Elysia set down the report.
“People might try a strange restaurant, then assume Maison Monbel is the same kind of place. A place that does nothing but give things strange names and charge a high price.”
That was true.
The reason knockoffs were frightening wasn’t just that they stole some sales.
It was because they could ruin the market itself.
If someone’s first experience with something resembling fine dining is a mess, they may come to think all such meals are a scam.
It was a problem that could end up killing the entire market.
I read the report again and laughed.
Marie tilted her head at me.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because it’s a good thing.”
“What is?”
“A restaurant copying us has appeared.”
“Why is that a good thing?”
“It means a market has formed.”
The drawing room fell silent.
Elysia looked at me as though she didn’t understand.
“What do you mean, a market has formed, Kyle?”
I folded the report.
“Until now, Maison Monbel was a strange restaurant. We charged an absurd amount for a single meal, read our guests’ stories, gave the food names, and served it as a course. People liked it, but it was still closer to simply being an unusual restaurant.”
“Right, we were the only weird ones.”
“But once restaurants copying us appear, the story changes. This is no longer just Maison Monbel’s strange practice; it becomes a new dining culture.”
Elysia’s eyes changed slightly.
“Culture.”
“Yes. Nobles like new cultures. Especially when they think they’re the first to know about them. As similar restaurants increase, people will start comparing them. Which house has the better course, which house has the more refined emblem, which house’s service is the genuine article.”
I pointed at my chest with a finger.
“And we’re the standard for those comparisons. And I stand at the top of it.”
Uncle Bernard asked quietly.
“You mean the one at the top stands out even more?”
“Yes.”
The more fine-dining culture spread, the more special Maison Monbel would become.
If there was only one fake, it was hard to tell it from the real thing.
But once there were ten or twenty fakes, people would start asking.
Where was the original, and which place did it best?
Why were some places ridiculous while others were moving?
At that point, Maison Monbel would be the answer.
“Of course, there are drawbacks. If shoddy restaurants deceive guests, the culture itself could get a bad name. But there’s no way to stop it completely. We can’t stop people from copying us. Food naturally spreads.”
“Then?”
Elysia asked.
“We should advise them instead.”
This time, everyone truly froze.
Marie spoke first.
“You want to advise the restaurants copying us? Why?”
“Because it’s painful to watch them do it badly.”
“They’re competitors.”
“If you kill every competitor, the market won’t grow.”
Marie looked like she didn’t understand.
But I was serious.
For a market to grow, one establishment can’t succeed on its own.
Whether it was sushi omakase, Korean fine dining, coffee, or wine, the market’s overall standard had to rise to a certain level for the customer base to grow.
Guests had to visit several establishments to develop a standard, and only once they had one would they pay more for a better establishment.
In the long run, it was better for similar restaurants to appear throughout the empire than for Maison Monbel to remain a bizarre restaurant all by itself.
Of course, we had to be above them.
Elysia crossed her arms.
“How far are you planning to go with the advice?”
“We won’t give them our core recipes. We won’t hand over our exact course lineup, either. Instead, we’ll teach them the basics.”
“What do you mean by basics?”
“Hygiene, reservation management, the spacing between plates, staff traffic flow, how to cut down on overly long explanations, how not to casually sell a guest’s story, and how to serve food that isn’t embarrassing to charge for.”
Marie narrowed her eyes.
“Isn’t that basically telling them almost everything?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“The truly difficult part is putting it into practice. Even if you understand all of it in theory, you ultimately won’t be able to do it.”
A kitchen isn’t something you can learn from written instructions.
You can explain things.
But changing how you prepare a fish based on its condition that day can’t be learned from an explanation.
Adjusting the amount of sauce on the next plate after seeing the look on a guest’s face as they eat the first plate isn’t something an explanation can teach, either.
Adjusting the staff’s workflow before everyone falls apart takes experience.
Teaching the basics alone wouldn’t reproduce Maison Monbel.
But we could at least bring wannabe chefs who didn’t know the basics up to a level where they wouldn’t disgrace the title of chef.
Uncle Bernard said,
“Given the direction you’re suggesting, a formal arrangement would be better than simple advice.”
“What kind of arrangement?”
“Maison Monbel’s Dining Etiquette Lecture. Or consulting on the operation of new-style course restaurants.”
As expected, Uncle Bernard was in a class of his own at dressing things up in elegant language.
Elysia immediately jumped in.
“We can charge for that.”
I nodded.
“Of course.”
Marie sighed.
“So it’s not just an act of kindness after all.”
“It’s nice to make money from doing good.”
“That’s exactly the kind of thing you’d say.”
Elysia fell silent, thinking.
“Then are we the ones setting the standard?”
“Yes.”
“Maison Monbel-approved new-style course restaurant.”
“We need to be careful with wording like that. If we’re careless, we’ll be taking on liability too.”
“Then let’s bring in someone who can take responsibility.”
“Oh, don’t tell me.”
Count Klever came to see Elysia as soon as he heard the news.
“You’re going to consult on restaurant operations?”
“Nothing has been decided yet.”
“You need to decide.”
Count Klever’s eyes gleamed.
“This will make money.”
“I knew you’d say that.”
“Because it will make money.”
He was very honest.
“Think about it. Maison Monbel is already more than a single restaurant; it’s a standard. Standards can be sold. That opens the door to lectures, consulting, operating manuals, staff training, and even tableware supply.”
“Count, did you happen to run a franchise headquarters in your previous life?”
“I don’t know what a franchise is, but I understand that it can make money.”
‘I’ve basically become Baek Jong-won in a romance fantasy novel.’
Still, I had to draw a line somewhere.
“No franchises.”
“What are those?”
“Letting just anyone do business under our name.”
“Ah, that does sound dangerous.”
Count Klever understood immediately.
“Then just consulting.”
“Yes. And just because they’ve received our advice doesn’t mean they can use the Maison Monbel name recklessly.”
Elysia nodded.
“We’ll need a contract.”
Uncle Bernard was already pulling out a sheet of paper.
The two businessmen discussed the terms for a while, eventually reaching an agreement that satisfied them both, then shook hands firmly.
Once the contract was finished, Count Klever smiled happily.
“I’m saying this only now, but it truly was fortunate that I didn’t seize the estate after being treated to that first meal.”
“Ah, you mean back then.”
“Yes. If I had seized the estate then, I wouldn’t even have properly recovered the money I lent you. But now, beyond recovering it, I’m earning a steady income. A creditor’s fondest wish is always for their debtor to prosper. That’s how they make money.”
“Are you still in the loan-sharking business?”
“I haven’t given it up entirely. But rather than collecting debts as ruthlessly as I did before, I now give people some leeway and wait. Who knows? Perhaps another entrepreneur like Maison Monbel will appear.”
A few days later, we sent letters to the new-style course restaurants in the capital and nearby cities.
They weren’t sent to pick a fight, of course, but to offer help.
Maison Monbel hopes that the quality and culture of new-style course dining will take root in a healthy manner. We offer consultations on basic operations and table setup to restaurants that wish to receive them.
I took on the role of consultant, while Count Klever volunteered to use his connections to endorse it and manage the process.
At long last, it seemed time for Kyle Pratt to set out on his alleyway resta… no, fine-dining tour.