Chapter 52
The mage dispatched by the Mage Tower arrived sooner than I expected.
Honestly, I thought it would take at least a month.
That’s because I thought mages were generally creatures that spent a season or so holding meetings, conducting research, nitpicking each other’s theories, and then attaching papers to those nitpicks.
But it seemed the Mage Tower took Maison Monbel’s once-a-month priority dinner reservation very seriously.
The person they dispatched arrived in a week.
The mage looked about twenty-five. Their hair was brown, but they had parted ways with the civilization known as brushing it a long time ago.
Thick glasses rested on the bridge of their nose, and their robe was stained with ink and sprinkled with some kind of white powder.
My first impression was that they looked like a graduate student dragged straight out of a laboratory.
As soon as the mage entered the drawing room, they bowed their head.
“I’m Estelle Lavini of the Mage Tower’s Department of Applied Material Sensory Research. I’ve come as a researcher dispatched to Maison Monbel.”
Their words were crisp.
Their eyes looked tired, but there was a brightness behind them.
They were the eyes of someone exhausted yet excited.
Eyes that looked as though they might say that after making something all night, they only needed to try one more thing.
They were a lunatic who seemed to genuinely enjoy graduate school.
People like that were one of two things.
Either extreme masochists, or people with some bizarre quirk that gave them a dopamine rush and excited them when surrounded by scholarship.
Both were somewhat far removed from me.
“I’m Kyle Pratt.”
When I greeted Estelle, they asked immediately.
“I heard you want to make sauce pearls that burst in the mouth.”
That was their first question after saying hello.
They were insane.
Not insane with greed for money like Count Klever or Elysia, but obsessed with scholarship.
“I haven’t confirmed that it’s possible. I just thought it would be nice if it were.”
“How strong should the membrane be?”
“Pardon?”
“It should retain its shape before entering the mouth, then burst when pressure is applied by the tongue or teeth. Should it be sensitive to heat, or to acid? What about the sauce’s viscosity? Is it oily?”
I looked at Estelle and smiled very slowly.
“Nice.”
Marie said quietly from beside me.
“What is?”
“They seem like someone I can communicate with.”
“You think you just communicated?”
“Yeah.”
Marie looked fed up.
Elysia quietly observed Estelle.
She appeared calm on the outside, but her eyes had sharpened ever so slightly.
It was the expression she wore when evaluating someone entering Maison Monbel.
I took Estelle straight to the kitchen.
“First, let me explain the safety rules. In the kitchen, fire, extreme cold, explosions, toxic fumes, and glowing slime are prohibited without permission.”
Estelle took out a notebook.
“Glowing slime is prohibited too?”
“Yes.”
“What if it’s edible?”
“It’s prohibited for now.”
“What a shame.”
‘Why is that a shame? What are you planning to do?’
I was beginning to feel genuinely afraid.
We began the first experiment immediately.
I poured warm fruit sauce into a small bowl.
Drawing on memories from my past life, I had made a sauce with perfect flavor and aroma, but the problem was that its fragrance dissipated too quickly.
It was good when served to guests, but had weakened by the time it reached their mouths.
In my previous life, I would have tried to preserve the aroma with lidded plates, aroma capsules, smoking, foam, or something similar.
Here, we had magic.
“Can you trap the aroma for a moment?”
When I asked, Estelle immediately pushed up their glasses.
“If I fix a thin layer of air in place, I can. However, if I make it too thick, it will feel foreign when it touches the mouth.”
“It can’t feel foreign. Make it as thin as possible.”
“Then I’ll make it last on the plate but break when the spoon enters.”
“Is that possible?”
“We’ll know when we try.”
I liked that answer.
Estelle moved their fingers lightly.
A very thin film formed over the fruit sauce.
It was almost invisible, but trembled slightly when it caught the light.
I touched the film with a spoon.
With a tiny popping sensation, the aroma of fruit rose up.
“One more time.”
Estelle made it again immediately.
This time, the film was slightly thicker.
I pressed it with the spoon and shook my head.
“It’s too tough. The guest will feel something strange in their mouth.”
“I’ll reduce the strength by one-third.”
“A quarter of the previous strength would be better.”
“Then it won’t last as long.”
“It only needs to hold until the first spoonful after the dish is served.”
“In that case, it’s possible.”
The conversation was fast.
When I described the sensation I wanted, Estelle converted it into magical specifications.
When Estelle implemented them, I judged how they felt in the mouth.
If it failed, we revised it immediately.
That was the rhythm of working with a good kitchen assistant.
Marie watched us with her mouth hanging open.
“You two seem like you’ve known each other forever.”
“We met for the first time today.”
“Then why did you two become close so quickly?”
“Estelle’s good at their job.”
Marie wore an expression that clearly said she didn’t like it.
The second experiment was cold cream.
Cold cream that wouldn’t melt immediately even when placed on hot roasted fruit.
In my previous life, I would have thought of stabilizers or cooling technology, but here, Estelle held a thin layer of air around the cream at a fixed temperature with a single movement of their finger.
The cream was cold, but the plate was warm.
“This is good. Let’s maintain this approach.”
Estelle’s eyes sparkled.
“How long should it last?”
“Until the dish reaches the guest, they hear the explanation, and they take their first spoonful.”
“The first spoonful again.”
“The first spoonful is the most important.”
“What about after that?”
“After that, the flavor has to carry it.”
Estelle was impressed.
“Chef, you’re like a professor in this field!”
“Was that an insult?”
“No, of course it was a compliment!”
A graduate student who used “professor” as a compliment. Astonishing.
Marie watched us and muttered quietly.
“You two really are a good match.”
Her voice sounded a little strange.
When I turned around, Marie was wearing a dissatisfied expression.
‘What’s gotten into her?’
“Why?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Want to try some too?”
Marie came over immediately.
“I want some.”
I placed some roasted fruit and cold cream on a small spoon for her.
Marie’s eyes went round as soon as she tasted it.
“It’s hot and cold.”
“Good, right?”
“It is, but it’s annoying.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s too delicious.”
I couldn’t tell whether that was praise or an insult.
Elysia entered just then.
Elysia’s expression was gentle, but her eyes weren’t smiling.
“Looks like fun.”
“Yes. It’s going much better than expected.”
“So it seems.”
Estelle bowed to Elysia.
“My Lady Monbel, I think Chef’s instincts are truly amazing. I’m so glad I came here!”
Elysia looked at me.
“Really?”
“That’s what they say.”
“You two seem to click.”
Her tone was calm.
But there was something sharp about it.
Marie let out a very quiet laugh beside me.
Only then did I realize something was strange.
But I didn’t know exactly what it was.
“They mean that we work well together.”
Elysia smiled.
“That’s what I said.”
‘Then why does it feel like that’s not what she meant?’
The third experiment was the sauce pearls I had wanted to make from the beginning.
I explained the molecular cuisine of my previous life.
They looked like tiny pearls, but burst in the mouth and spread the sauce inside.
Estelle’s eyes widened at first, then they immediately began firing off questions.
“Does the shell need to be edible?”
“Yes.”
“How thick?”
“As thin as possible.”
“Should the sauce inside remain liquid?”
“Yes. It won’t be interesting if it’s too much like jelly.”
“Should it burst when bitten, or when pressed with the tongue?”
“For the first attempt, when bitten.”
“Then I’ll start with a small droplet.”
Estelle placed some red fruit sauce on a small spoon and drew something resembling a magic circle with their left hand.
The sauce clumped into a sphere.
It wasn’t perfect.
The shape was slightly misshapen, and the surface wasn’t smooth, but it was unmistakably pearl-shaped.
I carefully put it in my mouth and bit down.
The red fruit sauce burst in my mouth.
I stopped dead.
“Ms. Estelle.”
“Yes.”
“Keep it just like that, preserving the sensation.”
Estelle’s face lit up.
“Really?”
“Yes. There’s a lot to improve, but the direction is right.”
“The shell is a little thick, isn’t it?”
“A little. And after it bursts, there’s a slight magical smell in the finish.”
“A magical smell?”
“Something like a metallic taste?”
Estelle wrote it down immediately.
“Need to remove the metallic taste…”
I really liked this person.
An excellent kitchen researcher had joined us.
When I smiled, Marie saw it and pouted.
“You like them that much?”
“Yeah.”
“So openly?”
“I like seeing someone who’s good at their job.”
“I’m good at my job too.”
“I know.”
“Then why don’t you make that face at me?”
I stopped.
“What face?”
“The face you just made.”
“What did my face look like?”
Marie didn’t answer. She grabbed the dish of cold cream and ran away.
Elysia watched her, quietly sipped her tea, then said,
“Kyle, don’t push Estelle too hard.”
“Of course not.”
“Estelle may have been sent here by the Mage Tower, but now they work for Maison Monbel.”
“Yes.”
Elysia paused briefly, then added,
“And don’t get too excited yourself.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“I’m no different from usual.”
Elysia stared at me.
“You’re not.”
In truth, I was excited.
I had acquired a new tool.
In my previous life, I would have needed equipment and science to do this, but in this world I could achieve it with magic, in an entirely different way.
To a chef, a new tool isn’t a toy but a weapon.
And right now, I felt as though I had gotten my hands on a very expensive weapon.
We kept experimenting until late that night.
The aroma-trapping membrane failed three times before becoming usable on the fourth try.
We extended the cold cream’s holding time a little, and the sauce pearls became rounder.
Estelle tousled their hair as they calculated, and I kept tasting things.
In the end, Marie slammed a glass of water down in front of me.
“Stop.”
“Just one more…”
“If you say that, I’ll kill you.”
I shut my mouth.
Marie forcibly took the spoon away from Estelle.
“You too, Mage. Stop.”
Estelle blinked behind their glasses.
“But if we adjust the membrane’s strength a little more, we could…”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow…”
Estelle muttered the word as though they had just learned it for the first time.
“So we can do it tomorrow.”
Marie wore an utterly incredulous expression.
Elysia passed by, gave an inscrutable smile, and disappeared.