Chapter 12

Chapter 12

New Menu

To speak my honest feelings here, I wanted to possess the respected British head chef, Lord Gordon Ramsay.

I wanted to use the famous line, 'Get out right now!'

But what can a powerless working-class cook like me do but crawl before power and wealth? Even Mr. Henry is taking a low posture?

Anyway, I decided to try the typical clich� of cooking stories once.

I mean I expected the young lady to get tired of the harshness of the kitchen and give up and leave on her own.

But...

"Why, why, why are you so good at this?!"

"Well, of course, because I learned..."

Since I couldn't ask the precious young lady of the earldom to wash dishes, I assigned her simple ingredient preparation and making the seasoned chicken sauce.

Along with fervent advice that you always have to be careful with knives and fire.

But... she was too, too good at it no matter how much she did!

Easily cutting the chicken into pieces, smoothly peeling the potatoes, even the skill of thinly julienning. A proficiency that was hard to believe for someone who had just started learning cooking.

Only then did I realize I had been hit by the family scam group.

This woman named Emily Edith Stanley who said her dream was to be an actress, upon checking, was actually a hidden master of the wilderness who had trained in baking for nearly ten years!

So of course she skillfully handled basic knife work and even ingredient preparation.

In every aspect she was much better than the newspaper seller kitchen assistants I had crash-trained.

'No, if that's the case, just get a job as a baker from the start, why a cook of all things!'

In fact, her knowing baking was not strange at all considering the background of the current era.

Britain is ironically a country where traditional food is mediocre but desserts are excellent.

To examine the reason, you need to briefly look at the history of the nobles' tea time.

The history of tea time in Britain is very deep. About two centuries ago, the tea that Princess Catarina of Portugal brought as a dowry when she married into the British royal family was a luxury item enjoyed only among nobles due to its expensive price.

Then in the early 19th century, the Duchess of Bedford started a tea party to relieve hunger between lunch and dinner, and as word of mouth spread, the unique traditional culture of the British nobles called Afternoon Tea was born.

And one of the elements that made this Afternoon Tea even more special was dessert.

As dessert established itself as an important element symbolizing the wealth and dignity of the upper class, competition to showcase special desserts at banquets or parties arose every time.

Due to the influence of Puritanism, thrift was emphasized and traditional cooking methods declined, but as sugar was abundantly supplied through overseas trade, the desserts of tea time rather developed...

Therefore, upper-class noble daughters learning baking was regarded as part of refinement, and it was not strange at all. It was simply treated as a hobby.

Moreover...

"Tada! How is it? Since there was an oven, I baked it once. Doesn't it suit as a dessert for the main course?"

Munch munch. Gulp.

"Ugh..."

Why is it delicious of all things?!

I had to wage an endless battle with my inner self.

The traditional British dessert, Trifle, made by stacking cake pieces, custard, jelly, fruit, and cream layer by layer.

When and how on earth did she make this labor-intensive food avoiding my eyes, no, how did she bake dessert in this kitchen optimized only for frying chicken, no, more than that why is the taste so good!

The heart wanting to question all of this one by one, and the heart wanting to get angry asking why she didn't do the assigned work and did something else during work hours, intensely crossed. Hey! Do you think this is a joke right now?!

In my previous life it would have been something I kicked out of the kitchen without looking back.

But I had no sense of how to handle this unruly precious young lady of the earldom.

Who on earth does she take after to be like this? The Earl? The Earl's second son? The face doesn't resemble at all?

But it was impossible to really get angry. Because the Earl standing behind her was scary.

What does it matter if I scold where he can't see?

...It wasn't a metaphor, he was really physically standing there!

"Edith! Well done! An excellent dessert! If you take that to the Carlton Club, you can flatten the noses of those unpleasant guys!"

"..."

This noble Earl who said he was busy with charity events was repeating the routine of bringing Edith by carriage every morning for several days, loitering nearby, returning around lunchtime and tearing into Chicken and Chips.

Then he wandered around my restaurant for a long time greeting celebrities, briefly disappeared to a nearby coffee house or social club, and returned around evening to cause trouble again.

No, but doesn't this old man really not get tired of chicken? He's been eating only chicken for lunch and dinner for several days already?

"This chicken is food sent by the gods! The chicken frying of those Scottish country bumpkins is worse than pig feed! I don't know how proud I am that this food was born in London! I even want to introduce it to His Majesty at Buckingham Palace!"

"..."

【 Acquired 10 Cooking Points. 】

It was better not to ask. Why on earth does this person marvel as if eating chicken for the first time every time?!

Anyway, the one who requested making dessert by borrowing someone else's kitchen was clearly this nuisance Derbyshire person (*Derbyshire, the estate of the Earl of Derby).

With that, I immediately knocked on the door of Mr. Henry's office. Mr. Henry whom I saw after a while looked very tired.

"The, the Earl of Derby has decided to invest largely in our bank's Canadian gold mine business this time... I'm sorry, but please endure a bit more. I'll definitely take care of the compensation."

"..."

I retaliated by selling the two theater tickets I had stuffed in my bosom to Mr. Henry at five times the regular price, but the uncomfortable feeling still didn't resolve.

In the end, leaving the restaurant to the Emily duo, I decided to flee to Baker Street for today at least.

As befitting a master of baking, she did decoration perfectly too. I don't seem to need to be in the kitchen at all?

In fact, Chicken and Chips is food that anyone can make if they know the knack. Edith also watched a few times and soon seemed to have noticed the secret of the taste.

Like Columbus's egg, coming up with the idea for the first time is difficult, but once you know the principle it's an easy dish anyone can easily follow.

Just marinating the chicken and frying it twice is enough to achieve a crispy texture and moist juices. The french fries were also just thin-sliced potatoes with special seasoning added, the fundamental was ultimately chips.

So I thought the specialness of my Chicken and Chips wouldn't last as long as I thought. In the end the recipe is bound to leak at some point. That timing was now.

So I resolved. To prepare a new dish following Chicken and Chips. Just in time my hands were free, should I say it worked out well?

Absolutely, absolutely not because I was worried about the health of the Earl of Derby who only tears into chicken every day.

###

I had been out of the house for less than two months, but Baker Street that I returned to after a while had changed quite a bit.

First of all... why is a Peeler standing near our house?

Those people usually only roam around busy streets or near ports, not something you normally see around our house in a peripheral alley even of Baker Street?

The hint was given instead by Mr. Thomas who was organizing the stall after finishing morning business.

He was Emily's father, and said he had quit carpentry work and was now helping with our house's Chicken and Chips business.

"Young Jean! Long time no see! Man, the clothes you're wearing have become quite a noble lord! I'd believe it if you said you just popped out of Savile Row (*Savile Row, a street with many tailors)!"

"Hello, Mr. Thomas. But why are those policemen standing there? This isn't a patrol area."

"Ah, those people? Well, since a lot of people have been gathering here recently, isn't it that the high-ups are being considerate in case some accident happens?"

Aha, so the Earl of Derby is looking after us from behind.

As soon as I heard Mr. Thomas's words, I immediately understood the situation in my head.

For now, among the people I have connections with, the only one who can exert power on the London Metropolitan Police is the former Governor General of Canada, the Earl of Derby. Mr. Henry is just a rich gentry junior or something.

When the Earl came to the restaurant the other day, smiling 'Young Jean, I've already made moves in advance so now you can feel much more at ease', was that implying this matter? Probably right?

Mr. Thomas also said that because our shop had become so famous in London, people even started coming specially by train from the countryside, which was a headache, but after the patrol policemen started guarding, his mind became much more at ease.

Anyway, that aside...

"The roof here has been newly installed? Did Mr. Thomas make this himself?"

"Ahem, I've handled wood for over 10 years, so I should easily do this much!"

The stall had also changed quite a bit. Since I originally made it myself by cutting wood and nailing it, I couldn't not know.

In fact, this stall was made as a kind of simple promotional tool to advertise my Chicken and Chips in London, but now it had been remodeled quite properly and turned into a quite plausible street stall.

"Who is this, isn't it young Jean?"

"Grandma Main!"

The thankful person who lent me 30 shillings so I could start the Chicken and Chips business.

If it weren't for Grandma Main, it would have taken much more time to achieve the current results.

We lightly hugged each other. In modern society Britain, even this much was an expression indicating a close relationship. Unlike France where bisous is the general greeting, there was a culture in Britain that quite disliked physical contact.

But what about Mom and Dad?

The question was soon resolved. The voice of my parents calling me was heard from next door. They were leaning out of the second-floor window, looking at me and waving their hands happily.

###

"What? You moved next door entirely because you earned too much money?"

"Haha, Grandma Main also said that would be more convenient. I thought of moving the shop entirely, but she said she didn't like that. She said she likes the front of the house continuing to be lively like this."

I've only been gone for two months, how much profit did you make, parents? I told them to sell only limited quantities and rest comfortably, but it seems they increased the sales volume and did business.

"Wait a minute, but can you earn that much money with Chicken and Chips? It's 2.5 pence per portion... No matter how I think, the calculation doesn't match?"

"Ah, actually Mr. Henry lent money without interest... Oops, he told me not to say!"

"Heh."

It seems the one who looked after our house while I was away wasn't only the Earl of Derby. The tip of my nose stings a bit.

"Anyway, I'll borrow the kitchen for a bit. I'll treat you to dinner tonight, so please gather everyone later!"

"You'll make dinner?"

"Yes, I have a new menu in mind to put out at my restaurant. I'd like you to evaluate it once."

"Then this dad will definitely give a good evaluation! Trust only dad!"

"No... rather, pointing out the shortcomings would be more helpful. Because I have to judge whether to put it out or not."

The first Chicken and Chips also started like this. The situation has changed a lot from then, but it also feels a bit affectionate.

As much as our family has grown, I should put out even more delicious food.

The new menu I thought of this time was not one, but two.

Also menus that shouldn't exist in this world yet, like Chicken and Chips.

I was curious what kind of reaction would come out.