Chapter 56
The Viscounty of Servan was in better shape than I had expected.
I hate to say it, but Viscount Servan had made such a terrible first impression that I expected his territory to be noisy and full of empty bluster too.
But when we actually arrived, the streets were clean, and the market was quite lively.
There seemed to be grain fields nearby, since we saw plenty of sacks of wheat and barley, while poultry and small game stood out more than other meat.
Marie looked out the window and said,
“It’s more ordinary than I expected.”
“Yeah.”
“The viscount made such a bad impression that I thought his territory was going to ruin.”
“If all the people of a territory resembled its lord, it would be a disaster.”
Elysia said quietly from across the table.
“Keep your voice down a little here.”
“Yes.”
She had a point.
Oldren’s Table was in an alley a little way from the center of the viscounty.
The sign wasn’t large, and ‘Oldren’s Table’ was written on a dark wooden board in neat lettering.
The windows were clean, and the smell of browned butter and chicken stock drifted out from inside.
I stopped walking when I smelled it.
“Not bad.”
Marie asked,
“Before we’ve even eaten?”
“There’s a vibe you can more or less sense just from the smell.”
When we went inside, Oldren greeted us himself.
He looked a little thinner than during our previous duel, but his eyes were much steadier.
Back then, he had been a chef carrying his employer’s honor; now, he looked like a man standing in front of his own restaurant.
He lowered his head.
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Kyle Pratt.”
“Thank you for inviting us.”
Viscount Servan was there as well.
He was dressed in flashy clothes and wore an extremely displeased expression, just like last time.
But today, he didn’t take the lead as he had before.
He seemed to have handed the reins to Oldren.
Surprisingly, it was a good decision.
When I looked at him, he shrugged.
“I’m here today strictly as an investor. I invested because a chef who had worked for my family for a long time wanted to go independent, so I have every right to attend an event like this.”
“Of course.”
Oldren led us to the table farthest inside.
“Please try the meal I’ve prepared today first. There’s no need to discuss the duel until then.”
I nodded.
“Sounds good.”
“Before the meal, there’s something you should know. I don’t sell expensive meals in the Maison Monbel style. I do aim to serve food suitable for nobles to eat, however.”
“That’s a good approach. I’ll keep that in mind when I evaluate it as well.”
The meal began.
The first course was chicken stock.
It was clear, but full-bodied.
He had simmered the chicken bones for a long time without skimming off too much of the fat, leaving a little behind.
Floating on top were thinly sliced aromatics resembling scallions and tiny pieces of toasted bread.
I took a sip and nodded immediately.
It was a classical style, but not one that relied solely on convention.
The stock itself was classical, yet there was a very faint sourness at the end.
It was too gentle to call vinegar and seemed to come from fruit.
Thanks to it, the heaviness of the chicken fat faded slightly, leaving only its savory richness.
“This is good.”
When I said that, a tremor passed through Oldren’s eyes.
“Really?”
“Yes. The chicken stock follows the fundamentals, and I like that you added acidity at the end. You were right not to skim off all the fat, too.”
Oldren quietly exhaled.
Marie looked at me and said softly,
“You’re praising it from the first course.”
“Because he did well.”
“You’re strict, but at least you’re fair.”
I’d take that as a compliment.
The second course was a poultry pie.
It was a pie filled with small game birds, mushrooms, and onions that people ate frequently in this region.
The outside was crisp, while the inside was moist.
It was much more humble than the lavish pies nobles ate, but the aroma was good.
What I especially liked here was the sauce.
Oldren had placed only a very small amount of rich brown sauce beside the pie.
Normally, he would have poured on a lot, but he hadn’t; he had made it something to dip into.
He was letting the guests control the amount.
I ate a piece and nodded.
“This is good too.”
Viscount Servan’s face brightened.
Oldren, on the other hand, seemed tense.
“Which part, exactly?”
“It’s a classic pie, but you’ve held back on the sauce. Done the old way, the sauce would have smothered the pie. Served like this, though, the aroma of the pastry comes through. And guests can eat at their own pace.”
Elysia said quietly,
“That’ll be easy to explain to noble guests.”
Oldren lowered his head.
“I learned that by observing Maison Monbel.”
Viscount Servan cleared his throat, seeming slightly uncomfortable.
But Oldren did not waver.
“However, I didn’t want to copy it exactly. I didn’t have the confidence to abandon the fundamentals I’d learned, nor did I want to. Instead, I looked for what I could change.”
I smiled when I heard that.
Very good.
Most chefs do one of two things after a defeat.
They either crumble completely and abandon their methods, or change nothing out of pride.
But Oldren had chosen the middle ground.
He kept the fundamentals, but gave them a graceful twist in his own style.
I liked that.
The third course was fish.
A small white-fleshed fish caught in a local river had been pan-seared in butter and topped with a light powder made from herbs and grains.
The outside was crisp, and the inside was tender.
The accompaniment was pickled vegetables.
I paused briefly while eating.
“This could be even better.”
Oldren immediately raised his head.
“Please tell me.”
“The fish is good, and it’s cooked well. But the pickled vegetables are a little strong. The fish is genuinely delicious, but it feels as though the vegetables slightly interfere with appreciating it. It would be better to reduce the acidity or slice the vegetables more thinly and adjust the amount.”
Oldren immediately took out a notebook and wrote it down.
I liked that attitude too.
Viscount Servan looked a little anxious, but said nothing.
In the past, he might have defended his chef or put on needless airs. But today, he held back.
Perhaps he had learned something after all.
Or perhaps it was because Elysia was here.
The main course was roasted chicken.
It wasn’t a showy dish of a large chicken decked out with elaborate decorations; the leg and breast had been separated and cooked in different ways.
The leg had been roasted until the skin was crisp, while the breast had been cooked tender and sliced thinly.
The sauce was a classic one made by reducing chicken stock and adding butter.
But there was a small jam beside it.
I dipped a piece into it and raised my eyebrows.
“Is this barley jam?”
Oldren smiled slightly for the first time.
“Yes. In this region, we simmer barley and fruit together. Originally, it was an inexpensive jam spread on bread.”
“It goes well with chicken.”
“At first, I was worried it might be too strange.”
“I thought it would be strange at first too, but after trying it, it’s actually very good.”
Oldren’s face lit up.
That one sentence seemed to mean quite a lot to him.
I slowly emptied the main course.
He had combined traditional techniques with local ingredients, added restrained variations, and balanced everything well.
It was food that wasn’t flashy, but had a reason behind it.
To be honest, it was going in a completely different direction from Maison Monbel.
Instead, he was calmly bringing together the ingredients of his territory and the classical cooking techniques he had learned.
It could become a good restaurant.
Dessert was warm barley pudding.
It was topped with fruit resembling roasted apples and a thin layer of cream.
I liked that it wasn’t sweet.
I ate the last spoonful and set down my napkin.
Oldren was looking at me.
It felt as though the air inside the restaurant had stopped as well.
Viscount Servan was openly watching my mouth, while Marie leaned back in her chair with a satisfied, full expression.
Elysia quietly drank her tea.
“That was a good meal.”
Oldren’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly.
His tension had eased.
“You gave the fundamentals some good variations. You didn’t abandon your technique, and you didn’t force the local ingredients into something artificial. I especially liked the chicken stock and poultry pie. The main course was good too. The fish’s accompaniment would improve with a little adjustment.”
Oldren bowed deeply.
“Thank you.”
“I’m not saying that just to be polite.”
“I know.”
He smiled briefly.
“I didn’t think you were the sort of person who would offer empty politeness.”
He was right.
I wasn’t good at empty compliments.
Marie said softly beside me,
“That’s why you cause trouble sometimes.”
That was when Viscount Servan finally spoke.
“In that case, Kyle Pratt.”
He leaned forward as if he had been waiting for this.
“Shall we have our duel now? We have enough ingredients here, and people have gathered as well. I lost last time, but this time will be different. If you accept, we can do it tonight…”
As expected, this was what he had wanted to say all along.
Oldren’s face stiffened slightly.
I raised a hand.
“Today won’t work.”
Viscount Servan stopped.
“Why not?”
I answered with complete seriousness.
“I’m too full.”
Marie turned away to suppress her laughter.
Viscount Servan was left speechless.
Elysia covered the corner of her mouth with her teacup.
Oldren was momentarily stunned too, but eventually let out a small laugh.
I was serious.
I had just eaten a full meal.
If we held a cooking duel right now, my concentration would suffer.
A chef’s palate becomes dull when they’re full.
Besides, having a contest immediately while my impressions of his food were still fresh wouldn’t be fair.
Of course, that was also an excuse.
I had come to see Oldren’s restaurant today, not to let a contest of my own overshadow the atmosphere surrounding its opening.
I looked at Oldren.
“I’m not saying I intend to avoid the duel.”
His eyes grew serious again.
“Then…”
“Let’s do it in a public place next time.”
This time, everyone looked at me.
“Somewhere people can watch. We’ll set the preparation time and ingredient conditions, and stake our respective restaurants and names on it. That would be better than doing it suddenly here.”
Viscount Servan’s eyes lit up.
Elysia’s did too.
“A public duel.”
Oldren slowly drew in a breath.
“You’re willing to go that far?”
“You sent me a challenge.”
I smiled.
“Challenges sell better in public.”
Marie muttered,
“So that’s where your mind went?”
“It’s an important consideration.”
Oldren looked at me for a long time.
Then he bowed his head.
“Very well. I’ll challenge you again in public.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be going there to win next time.”
I nodded.
“I have no intention of losing, either.”
Silence passed between us for a moment.
It wasn’t an unpleasant silence.
On the way back, Elysia said in the carriage,
“It was a pretty good restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“It was a little unexpected.”
“I thought so too.”
“Are you sure it’s all right to accept the duel?”
“It’s fine.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“It’s actually better that my opponent isn’t weak.”
I looked out the window and said,
“A good opponent makes for a good story. Oldren is at least trying to find his own style of cooking. If I compete against a chef like that, it will be meaningful even if I win, and I’ll have something to learn even if I lose.”
“Are you considering losing?”
“No.”
Elysia smiled.
“I knew you’d say that.”
I lightly pressed my stomach.
A good restaurant had come into being, and if a good chef challenged me again, I had to accept.
Once my stomach had settled a little.