Chapter 27

Chapter 27

The Best Jam

British cooking has no taste.

In my previous life I also just thought it was a meme-like joke.

Because the British chef Gordon Ramsay I respect is also the best chef. Moreover Britain has produced world-class chefs every year.

But living in 1900s London Britain I know. British cooking really has no taste.

It wasn't simply because people couldn't cook. Ah, of course there might not be none of that part either.

The most important problem was separate. That there is nothing that can be called 'identity' in British home cooking.

Compared to East Asia's fermented sauces, France's mother sauces, Italy's diverse ingredients, and Germany's beer-centered food culture, there was no clear cooking philosophy penetrating all of British food.

There is a saying that �Britain brings out the original taste of ingredients,� but in fact it was closer to the side of not being able to produce various tastes because the number of ingredients was lacking.

Why is that? There are various historical and social reasons, but I think the biggest cause is the absence of vegetables and spices.

You have to grow something to eat it seasoned, grilled, or boiled. But there really was nothing?

Maritime climate, insufficient sunshine, cold North Sea region. Vegetation where various wild greens like Korea absolutely can't grow wild.

The vegetables you can buy cheaply at the market are only kale, cabbage, radish, carrot, and peas that grow well even in cold places. Other vegetables were all imports so they were expensive.

In Britain's vast plains there really are only wheat and grass. I understand why desserts, baking, and livestock farming developed in Britain. Because only grass grows well so cows and sheep eat that and grow well, right?

Since it's an island country can't you mainly eat seafood like Japan? But the core of seafood cooking is removing the fishy smell, and until pre-modern Britain it was difficult to obtain spices that properly remove this fishy smell. In the end reducing the smell by frying or baking was all. I thought fish and chips or sardine pie came out because of that.

Moreover with industrialization people all pushed into big cities, and lacking time to cook due to hard labor so the succession of traditional recipes was gradually cut off.

So in the 1900s Britain I possessed, honestly there was not a single home cooking that could be called delicious by my standards.

What is called delicious British cooking here was ultimately desserts tailored to the upper class's taste, or exotic dishes based on cooking methods brought from overseas, that is only food for nobles.

Because of this the commoners of Britain have been eagerly waiting for a superhuman who would create a true British cooking of their own, a cooking identity that Britons can enjoy and all of Europe would envy...

Like that there was a divine ingredient only for Britons that appeared like a comet in 1902 London carrying their wish...

The very product that all Britons praised as the best national food that they had waited for so much for hundreds of years!

Even the one that Britain forced to eat together in all colonies where it extended its feet such as Canada, Australia, and New Zealand!

What is that?

The worst jam in history created by the British's hatred and worst food culture!

Marmite!

###

"No! Marmite no! Ugh!"

Rattle, rattle.

I screamed and opened my eyes at the sudden shaking. The noise of the rough road and carriage wheels colliding rang in my ears.

"Young Jean, what kind of sleep talk are you doing suddenly dozing off? What is Marmite? What on earth is that?"

Mr. Henry's voice pulled me to reality. Did I just dream?

"Ah, did I doze off? It's nothing!"

"Did something happen yesterday? You look very tired. Wipe the saliva from your mouth with a handkerchief first."

Slurp.

I quickly pretended nothing was wrong, but it seemed already late.

It was a strange dream. A dream of people grabbing me and forcibly stuffing sandwiches only spread with Marmite.

Why on earth did I have such a dream...?

Ugh, it seems like a foul fishy smell is coming from my mouth!

"Haha! A really interesting friend! Be comfortable! If you're tired you can doze off for a bit! I'll believe it was because you were immersed in research and development!"

Next to Mr. Henry was sitting a fat hairy man with an awkward expression. Only after the brief dazed state passed, I was able to recall the identity of that man.

The uncle I first met at Mr. Henry's office today. The name is 'Charles Pitton.' They say he's a gentry who operates the largest flour mill and bakery factory in London. Was the company name Hovis? Anyway, he was the owner of a quite cheerful personality. To the extent of following without hesitation because it's a money-making opportunity.

"Ahem."

And the skinny man with glasses sitting next to me. This side is Mr. 'Edward Harding.' A patent specialist lawyer that Mr. Henry hastily arranged.

When I barged into Mr. Henry's office in the morning and said to bring out a lawyer and investor, he connected these people?

Mr. Henry, Mr. Pitton, Mr. Harding, and me.

Like this the four were running through the middle of London riding Mr. Henry's carriage.

Where are we going? To get my invention. Ah, we've arrived. Already all here while dozing?

Snort snort, neigh!

The place we arrived was a large workshop where people were busily coming and going.

In front of that workshop stood a round-faced young man wearing only a vest without a jacket.

Inventor, Mr. Henry Royce. The owner of this workshop and president of a small electric company. A person who operates the workshop as a side job because of research funds.

"Jean-Paul Durand! I contacted you yesterday but you came so quickly, was your heart urgent? But the machine won't run away somewhere."

He shook hands and secretly whispered in my ear.

"Jean! The development cost was twice as much! I need to give more advance."

"Ugh."

This is my emergency fund.

I had no choice but to push the gold coin pouch received from the Duke of York into his arms.

He briefly checked the gold coins inside the pouch, and seeing the amount his face brightened and he hurriedly hid it.

Really a miser.

Anyway, I introduced Mr. Henry Royce and the party to each other.

"Young Jean, so where is that innovative invention you made?"

"Mr. Royce will guide you. Mr. Royce?"

"Please follow. I'll show you. Honestly it was quite hard to make."

What's hard about making it? I drew the blueprints from beginning to end.

In the place he guided there was a quite large device made by attaching wood and metal plates.

"Th-this is a very common meat grinder, right? This is the invention you were boasting about? An explanation seems necessary!"

Mr. Pitton, you're too hasty.

I ignored him and immediately asked Mr. Royce.

"Mr. Royce, there was no problem with the performance test, right?"

"I tested over dozens of times. Coffee, meat, onion, garlic, potato... and even the peanuts you mentioned, all ground well!"

"Then let's test again. This time there are spectators so it will be more interesting."

Mr. Royce called an employee and had a large sack brought. Inside it were various kinds of vegetables.

"You, what are you thinking of doing with this...?"

"I'm going to grind it."

"Grind? How on earth?"

Mr. Henry also looked at me with suspicious eyes.

I raised the power button without saying anything.

Wiiing! Drrrrrk!

With tremendous noise, the grinder Mr. Royce and I made ground the contents in an instant.

"Ah..."

"Did you see?"

Mr. Pitton who was momentarily astonished. If he's the president of a flour mill, he'll know right away what this means.

Mr. Royce and I had made something that absolutely shouldn't exist in this era.

The electric grinder.

When I first made the restaurant and produced an exhaust fan with a fan motor, I pondered if I couldn't apply that motor to another kitchen tool.

Just in time there was a good one. The grinder.

Even until 1901 now, to grind ingredients you had to hold something like a manual hand mill or coffee grinder and turn it while groaning for a long time. Even that the power was dispersed and it didn't grind properly.

What era is it that there's no electric grinder? There really wasn't.

So I decided to make it directly. I drew the design blueprints for Mr. Royce, and asked him to disassemble the commercially available manual grinder and join it as is.

And... our first experiment failed spectacularly.

Damn, it was my fault for mistaking the shoddy fan motor of this era as a universal tool. Not an inventor, and not a science student how would I know. I didn't know that the power was insufficient so it couldn't grind the ingredients and the motor would stop.

Then what did I do? What do I do? I brought all the motors on the market and tested them one by one. There's no method. Because the era is the era I couldn't even expect something like a spec sheet.

Unlike modern electric grinders where power adjustment is possible, the motors of this era had fixed output. What was lacking was the rotational force of the motor.

The fan motor was designed to rotate the blades and move air, so the speed was high but the torque (force) was weak.

So we had to find a motor with high torque and low speed. It means a precision work motor was needed.

Fortunately there was no need to go far. The motor taken from an electric sewing machine fit perfectly. What remained was optimization of efficiency or structure, and that was handled exclusively by Mr. Royce who was smarter than me.

In this process a tremendous amount of money went in. My salary was nowhere near enough, and in the end while deciding to make and sell patent rights I attached the condition of giving dividends to Mr. Royce too and pulled him in as an investor.

This miser uncle was disgusted at first, but only after eating Chicken and Chips at my restaurant did he give a thumbs up and agree.

"Cool! A really amazing idea invention! Many people who want it might come out! But... what relation does this have with our flour mill? It doesn't seem like it can grind grain, and it looks completely unrelated to me."

Mr. Pitton asked as if puzzled.

It makes sense. Grinding grain flour milling and the grinder that crushes ingredients are completely different in purpose and operating principle. It means they're not compatible.

Of course, there was a separate real reason for making the grinder. Because without this there was a food that absolutely couldn't be made with the technology of this era.

But I didn't bother to explain with words.

Showing is the most certain.

I opened the sack I had been holding until now, and took out roasted peanuts, olive oil, salt, and honey from inside.

And I put only the roasted peanuts into the grinder and turned it.

First attempt, the contents are a bit uneven.

Second attempt, it grinds quite well.

Third attempt, finally it turned into a paste-like lump.

"Uh uh...?"

Mr. Henry looked with surprised eyes. The smell is very good, right?

I put that paste back into another inlet of the grinder, and put in the prepared honey, olive oil, and sugar together.

If the side just ground was the meat grinder, this side is the part remodeled into a coffee grinder. Because of the limit of technology we couldn't use while replacing the motor or blade, so we mounted two of them together from the start.

Drrk! Drrrrk!

And the result that came out... the oil that came out from the ground peanuts and the additionally put contents mixed and became a very sticky and creamy lump.

"Young Jean! You... surely you made jam with peanuts?!"

"Yes, that's correct. And the patent I'll hand over is not the machine but the production rights of this jam."

"Jam! Peanut jam! I've never heard a story of making jam with peanuts in my life!"

"You just saw it. It's still early to be surprised."

The reason I asked to introduce the flour mill president.

In fact in this era proper food processing industry almost didn't exist. The food industry that existed at best was large bakery factories and flour mills.

So by selling some of the shares of my patent, instead of me this�

"Let's call the name 'peanut butter.' Because it looks like butter. Are you interested?"

"Interested? Of course! The smell is amazing! By any chance if there's bread can I spread it once and eat it?"

...The person who can properly produce peanut butter was only this uncle in front of my eyes. Am I not doing it? Why would I do it annoyingly? Just give the recipe and put a spoon on it.

Anyway as expected of a big shot in the food industry his sense is quick. He wants to taste it, right?

Of course at this point the peanut butter patent might have come out in America. But for that to cross over to Britain is still far. Moreover I heard the first made peanut butter had terrible taste so it was just used as health food for patients?

But my prototype is completely different. What I made is not the crude early American peanut butter, but real modern-style peanut butter. How did I who only know how to make Korean food know the peanut butter recipe?

What do I do. There's already an answer sheet for me. I summoned several modern commercial peanut butters from the point shop and reverse-engineered looking at the ingredient table on the label. There wasn't anything complicated more than expected.

Of course 100% reproduction is impossible. To perfectly reproduce you have to use hydrogenated oil instead of olive oil, but that doesn't exist yet in this era. Still the choice of using olive oil wasn't bad. About 80% similar texture was implemented.

I shrugged my shoulders and took out bread from the sack.

I brought it in advance knowing it would be like this. Please taste it once.

I handed the bread thickly spread with peanut butter to the three party members who followed.

"Th-this taste! Amazing! Really delicious! I'll buy the patent rights! I'll invest right away!"

"I'll invest too, Jean-Paul Durand! Give me a share too!"

"Ho, by any chance if you need even my pocket money!"

[Charles Pitton: Savory! Soft, sweet and even salty! / Emotion: Astonishment / Satisfaction: ★★★★★]

[Henry Curzon: This 'peanut butter' might completely shake the London food industry! / Emotion: Great Confusion / Satisfaction: ★★★★★]

[Edward Harding: A tremendous opportunity! I have to get on this ship too! / Emotion: Euphoria / Satisfaction: ★★★★★]

【 Acquired 30 Cooking Points. 】

It wasn't only Mr. Pitton who was astonished. Even Mr. Royce who developed this machine with me,

"Ja-Jean! You didn't tell me this kind of story? How did you make jam with this machine? I couldn't even imagine such a possibility! You said it's a machine that grinds meat and potatoes!"

[Henry Royce: Jean-Paul Durand! You deceived me again! An amazing guy! / Emotion: Excitement / Satisfaction: ★★★★★]

【 Acquired 10 Cooking Points. 】

No... is that such an important matter right now?

In fact it is important. Being able to grind meat and potatoes. That means I can develop one more food that gave birth to a very destructive trend in modern society.

But for now I'll postpone that idea and decide to concentrate on the peanut butter in front of my eyes.

1901 British society where Marmite hasn't appeared yet.

The long-standing wish and desire of the British for a national ingredient.

To push out Marmite with a vacant house raid and preempt that place the opportunity was only now.

Won't future British food become a bit more delicious with this? I'm pleased.

And if I bring Korean food ingredients to Britain with the money earned by just putting a spoon on the peanut butter produced by these gentry uncles? Perfect, right?

But until this time I didn't expect at all how big a stir my simple and clumsy plan would cause in British society. Damn it.