Chapter 78
The new Chinese-style course was named the Flame Course.
I had originally planned to give it a different name, but this seemed like the most intuitive one.
This course actually has flames rising.
The guests would watch the fire blooming above the pans through the glass, then eat meat and vegetables infused with its aroma.
A rich sauce made by reducing oysters and shellfish, aromas clinging to the surface of ingredients over high heat, and dishes following a rhythm different from that of a Western-style course.
Where a Western-style course builds flavor layer by layer with butter and stock, the Flame Course revolves around the fleeting aromas created by intense heat and aromatics.
The ingredients remain in the pan only briefly.
In that short time, the outside has to cook, the aroma has to cling, and the moisture inside has to remain.
Anyone can burn something if they use fire for long enough.
The difficult part is using only the moment when the fire is at its strongest and leaving the flavor behind.
It wasn't finished yet.
So I made a small note on one side of the reservation book.
[Trial Run]
Of course, wording like that didn't mean much to the guests.
If anything, it made them more interested.
Especially the stranger guests.
“I hear the Northern Grand Duke wants the Flame Course.”
I paused for a moment when Uncle Bernard said that.
“The Northern Grand Duke?”
“Yes. He placed a reservation a long time ago, remember? It seems he heard about the Flame Course while the reservation was being arranged.”
The Northern Grand Duke.
It was a very weighty term in a romance-fantasy world.
Usually, it came with images of cold, imposing size, and menace, along with wolves or bears.
In fact, this empire's Northern Grand Duke was much the same.
The lord of the northern defensive line, who fiercely fought orcs, trolls, and ice wraiths; the head of a family that had battled monsters through blizzards; a mighty noble whom even the emperor treated with respect.
A man like that wanted to eat a course that wasn't fully finished yet.
I immediately shook my head.
“Please tell him that this course is still in its trial phase. My skills aren't perfect yet. It would be more reliable to serve him the standard ducal course.”
Uncle Bernard bowed his head.
“I'll convey that.”
The person who came to coordinate the reservation was the Northern Grand Duke's son.
As befitted the heir to a ducal house, he had a neat and composed air, but there was something sharp about him.
He wasn't the sort who flaunted his charms like the male-lead candidates who followed Lilia around.
Instead, each of his words was as clear as a blade driven into snow.
He thought for a moment after hearing my explanation.
“Baronet Kyle Prat.”
The formal process hadn't even begun, but more and more people were already calling me that.
It felt strange.
“Yes.”
“My father loves challenges.”
I was silent for a moment.
That one sentence explained a great deal.
“You mean he wants an experimental meal?”
“He'll be more interested in watching it blaze than in a finished, safe result. Especially if there is a risk of failure.”
“Serving a guest a dish with a risk of failure…”
“My father disliked victories on the battlefield that carried no risk of failure.”
‘Are all high nobles like this?’
But I more or less understood.
The Northern Grand Duke wasn't an ordinary guest.
He wasn't merely coming to eat delicious food; he was coming to see the fire I still hadn't completely tamed.
He wanted to see hands willing to take risks rather than perfected technique.
I thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Very well. But on one condition. I will cook the Flame Course myself. I'll prepare it so the cooking process can be seen, but mistakes may occur. It isn't perfect yet.”
The Grand Duke's son smiled faintly.
“My father will like it even more.”
“That makes me feel even more uneasy.”
He held back a laugh.
Some time later, the Northern Grand Duke arrived.
The air around us changed from the moment he stepped out of the carriage.
He was a huge, white-haired man in late middle age or beyond.
He was far too solidly built to be called old, yet his eyes belonged to someone who had passed through too many battlefields to be called young.
His shoulders were broad enough to make the doorframe look narrow, and though his steps were slow and heavy, they never seemed dull.
It felt like watching a great beast walk without feeling any need to flaunt its strength.
The moment I saw him, I thought to myself,
‘He's a polar bear.’
A hungry polar bear, at that.
The Northern Grand Duke entered the estate and slowly surveyed his surroundings.
When Elysia welcomed him personally, he exchanged the proper courtesies but didn't draw out the conversation any more than necessary.
“Lady Montbel. I hear you will soon become a countess.”
“It is through His Majesty the Emperor's grace.”
“Grace alone does not elevate a house. A house rises because it has accomplished something.”
Elysia blinked once.
“Thank you for your kind opinion.”
The Northern Grand Duke nodded, then immediately looked toward me.
“Are you Kyle Prat?”
“Yes. I'm Kyle Prat, and I'll be handling today's meal.”
“I hear you handle fire and knives well.”
“Only to the extent required in cooking.”
The Northern Grand Duke laughed low.
“Fire is fire wherever you find it.”
‘Good. He's not a normal guest.’
The Grand Duke and his son were shown to seats with a view of the open kitchen.
The cooking area was visible through the transparent glass we had newly installed.
The prep and washing areas remained hidden, while the visible area held neatly arranged pans, small hearths, saucepots, and serving dishes.
The Northern Grand Duke raised an eyebrow when he saw the arrangement.
“You've made the kitchen visible.”
Elysia explained,
“We included the cooking process as part of the meal for the Flame Course. However, we've hidden any scenes that might be unpleasant for the guests.”
“Many people want to see victory on the battlefield without seeing blood. But at a dining table, that is probably preferable.”
His way of speaking sounded rough, but it was precise.
I began preparing inside the glass.
Before serving the first dish, I prepared a small bite to whet their appetites.
It was the amuse-bouche for the Flame Course.
Simply shrinking a Chinese dish down into a smaller size wouldn't be enough.
As the beginning of the course, it had to hint at the flavors to come without getting ahead of the first dish.
I cut thinly rolled flour dough into small pieces and fried them in oil.
The dough puffed up as soon as it touched the hot oil, and the edges curled crisply like flower petals.
I took it out before the color grew too dark, and it became a small bowl about the size of two finger joints.
I filled it with finely shredded duck.
I had slowly cooked the duck with salt and spices, then drained away the fat.
Putting it in as it was might make the very first bite too heavy, so I mixed in thinly sliced cucumber and scallions to cut through the richness.
Then I added just a little tart sauce made by reducing plums.
The sweetness awakened the appetite, while the acidity cut through the duck's fat.
Finally, I added a single drop of aromatic oil infused with dried chilies.
There was no need to burn their mouths from the very beginning just because this was the Flame Course.
‘If the first bite makes them reach for water, this should be the noodle place over there, not here.’
I filled the small fried shells with duck and vegetables, then topped them with a little thinly sliced scallion.
Marie took the dish and asked,
“Is this part of the Flame Course too?”
“Yeah. It's the bite that announces the beginning.”
Marie smelled it once, then nodded.
“Smells good.”
“Carry it carefully.”
“Got it.”
Marie carried the dish out into the dining room.
The Northern Grand Duke picked up one of the small fried shells with his fingers.
He looked down at it once, as though checking its size, then put it into his mouth whole.
The crisp sound carried even from a distance.
The fried shell broke first, followed by the salty flavor of the duck inside.
The dish was designed so that the acidity and sweetness of the plum sauce would clear away the richness, leaving the aroma of chili oil briefly at the tip of the tongue.
The Northern Grand Duke chewed slowly, then brushed the crumbs from his fingertips.
“Small.”
“It's meant to awaken the appetite before the first dish.”
“Small in size, but it leaves an aroma behind. The meat is familiar, but the sweetness that follows is unfamiliar.”
I felt relieved inside.
‘Good. He sensed it in the order I intended.’
His son also took a bite and added that the cucumber and scallions cleared away the duck's fattiness.
As expected, the father and son seemed to share a palate.
However, the Northern Grand Duke wasn't someone who would be satisfied with one small dish.
He set down the empty bowl and looked toward the hearth beyond the glass.
“Is the flame still to come?”
‘So that was his real purpose after all.’
“We'll begin now.”
The first dish wasn't going to be light.
As the true beginning of the Flame Course, it had to make the direction of the course immediately clear to the guest.
I placed thinly sliced meat and aromatics in a small pan, then coated them with the oyster-and-shellfish reduction at the end.
I had to show a brief flare of flame without burning the ingredients.
It had to be flashy, but if the flavor fell apart, it was over.
I heated the pan.
Rather than adding the ingredients impatiently, I held my palm close to check the heat.
When I dropped in a single bead of oil, it spread thinly instead of gathering into a round droplet.
‘A little longer.’
Only after faint smoke began to rise from the pan did I pour in the oil.
I added ginger and the white part of the scallion first.
A sharp sizzle rose with a spicy, faintly sweet aroma.
The aroma was distinct enough to reach even through the glass.
I immediately spread the thinly sliced meat across the pan.
The instant the meat touched the pan, its edges contracted and curled slightly upward.
I flipped it once, then pushed the ingredients aside so the uncooked surface could touch the hot bottom.
I didn't flip it more than once.
If thin meat cooks for too long, it loses its moisture in an instant.
I added the aromatics, and my wrist moved.
The ingredients rose briefly, then fell back into the pan.
The scallions, chives, and thinly sliced onions met the heat and released their sweetness.
The edges of the onion began to turn translucent, but the centers still retained their crispness.
The Northern Grand Duke was watching me from beyond the glass.
His gaze was quite heavy.
Most guests watched with anticipation or curiosity in their eyes.
But the Northern Grand Duke was looking at my wrist and the position of my feet as though an inspector were studying an opponent's stance.
‘Is he looking at a chef or an inspector?’
The pressure was a little irritating.
But at the same time, it wasn't bad.
If I put on a clumsy show for a guest like that, he would see through it immediately.
So I simply had to do it properly.
I poured the sauce made from oysters and shellfish reduced for a long time around the edge of the pan.
The dark brown sauce touched the hot metal and boiled up all at once.
The oysters' deep umami, the shellfish's subtle sweetness, and the saltiness of the fermented sauce combined to envelop the meat and vegetables.
Too much sauce would kill the fire aroma.
I added just enough to wet the surface of the ingredients thinly, then quickly reduced the rest with the heat of the pan.
Once the moisture evaporated, the sauce clung to the surface of the meat with a glossy sheen.
The aroma grew deeper as the meat's fat met the sauce, but it wasn't heavy yet.
The ginger and scallions reined in the flavor at the end.
All that remained was the fire.
‘Don't get greedy.’
I tilted the pan slightly.
The moment the flame followed the oil upward, I pulled my wrist back in a short motion.
Whoosh.
Flames rose above the pan.
It was brief, but it was enough.
The fire wrapped around the meat and aromatics once, then disappeared immediately.
The ends of the vegetables were just slightly charred, and the surface of the meat had acquired an aroma that could only come from intense heat.
In that brief interval, I straightened the pan and flipped the ingredients.
‘Good.’
The fire flavor only needs to happen once.
If you get greedy and do it twice, you get a burnt smell instead of aroma.
I finished the dish.
It was a small dish, but its first impression had to be strong.
I rolled the meat into thin, bite-sized rolls and lightly placed the aromatics on top.
I spread the sauce thinly beneath the meat so that each bite would naturally pick some up.
Finally, I added a very small dab of chili oil.
If I had shown only the aroma in the amuse-bouche, now it was time to leave a clear heat on the tip of the tongue.
Marie took the dish.
“This one smells different from the start.”
“Because I fed it fire directly.”
Marie gave a short nod.
“It's good.”
‘If that's her reaction, at least it isn't burnt.’
“Take it out.”
“Okay.”
Marie walked straight toward the dining hall.
The Northern Grand Duke smelled it first, then took a bite.
He chewed very slowly.
His son silently watched his father's expression.
I held my breath inside the kitchen.
‘…Why isn't there any reaction?’
“Hmm.”
The Northern Grand Duke set down the dish and applauded.
It was a large, slow round of applause.
The air in the dining room seemed to reverberate with that one round of applause.
“Good.”
He said.
“There is still room to refine it. But the fire is alive. It doesn't pretend to be tame inside the dish.”
I bowed my head.
“Thank you.”
‘I survived.’
The Northern Grand Duke looked at me through the glass and smiled.
That smile was closer to a bear's than a person's.
“Continue. I came today to see how far you can take your control of fire.”
I took hold of the pan again.
A little sweat had beaded in my palm.
Good.
A frightening guest is a good guest.
Because he'll know immediately if the food isn't good.
I raised the heat again.
This course was going to be a long one.