Her Majesty’s Secret Service

004. Stew and the Bishop

Bishop Eli, Thomas Goodrich, was a kind old man, nearly sixty years old.

He knew well the hard work of the servants tending his manor, so he sent white flour to the servants’ quarters every week, ensuring they could eat white bread for lunch every day.

But from one day, the quarters started to ask for butter and milk in addition to flour.

As far as Bishop Thomas knew, Fred was not a man blinded by greed, one to deceive him.

Surely there must be a reason, the bishop thought and looked into it.

It turned out to be because of a stranger Fred had picked up a month and some weeks ago.

He had heard that Fred wanted to pay the stranger, found collapsed in front of the inn, as a porter.

But this was the first time he heard that the stranger was making a curious stew with flour.

Bishop Thomas, who preferred stew over any greasy food and even resolved lunch with stew instead of meat, wanted to taste this new stew made by the stranger.

Fred had said that the friend surely came from a distant foreign land.

A stew from a distant land. Thomas spurred on the donkey he was riding, anticipating a taste different from the stews he always had.

“Hmm… How much further?”

“Yes, my lord Bishop! We’re almost there!”

The bishop was on his way to the quarters with the manor’s servants.

Kevin, the head of the servants, answered the bishop’s question. Of course, accompanying Kevin was a deathly experience. No matter how noble a nobleman is, a nobleman is still a nobleman.

The bishop, who was busy with his duties in London, hardly visited this manor located in the suburbs of London, maybe twice a year.

Yet, the bishop had carved out time to visit, all because of a stew made by Logan. The servants, pondering over the stew they had been eating, now found themselves heading to Fred’s inn.

* * *

It seems the bishop has taken an interest in my stew.

What a relief. If the bishop is here for my cooking, then my cooking can be the bridge to connect with him.

Opportunities must be seized when they arise. Before the death of Edward VI, who was favorable to the Anglican Church, I had to quickly make contact with Elizabeth and establish a rapport.

After Mary’s death, it would be incredibly difficult for a foreigner like me to approach Elizabeth.

“George, did the bishop really come for this stew?”

While I was attached to the fireplace making the stew, Fred and George began to chat.

“Really? I heard that Bishop Thomas loves the stew.”

“It’s just stew, after all… I can’t understand the thoughts of those high up.”

“Maybe it’s the novelty of a stew made with flour?”

“Are stews made with flour so rare? Perhaps it’s the rumor of its pure white color that brought him here.”

“Ah, that could be. We were surprised ourselves when we first saw it. Who knew such a white soup existed in the world?”

Leaving their chatter behind, I stirred the soup. Opportunities must be seized when they arise.

As I was adjusting the seasoning with a pinch of salt to the bubbling soup, the sound of the door opening was heard.

Familiar faces entered one by one and took their seats. The head seat, where Kevin always sat, was empty today. Kevin sat quietly to the right of it.

On days when cream soup was served, the place would be bustling as the soup was ladled out, but today, everyone was unusually quiet. It seemed the bishop had arrived.

Not long after the strange silence settled, an old man dressed in priestly garments and a taciturn man standing beside him as if accompanying him entered the dining room.

The old man naturally took the seat of honor and looked at me with curious eyes.

“Hmm… Are you that foreigner? What is your name?”

Everyone except me was frozen stiff, unable to even breathe.

Unlike them, I casually responded to the bishop’s question.

“It is an honor to meet you, Bishop. Logan Lee, please call me Logan.”

“Hmm, Logan. I am also pleased. That… Is that ‘White Stew’ I’ve heard rumors about, boiling in that pot right now?”

The bishop’s eyes sparkled as he pointed to the pot hanging over the fireplace. He was said to love stew, and it seemed to be true.

“Yes, you may call it ‘Cream Stew.'”

“Hmm… Cream Stew… I’m a bit embarrassed to ask, but may I join you for the meal?”

“By all means.”

As I was about to ladle the soup into an ordinary plate, Fred, who had procured a silver plate from somewhere, offered it to me. It must have been for the bishop.

After I carefully ladled the soup into the silver plate without spilling, and placed it on the bishop’s table, the servants finally rose to serve the soup.

As everyone settled down with their soup, the bishop, having caught the scent, murmured,

“Very nice, excellent. I’m really curious about the taste…”

Muttering so, the bishop saw everyone seated and quickly clasped his hands, beginning to recite the grace before meals. The others at the table followed suit, closing their eyes.

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

The grace before meals ended in an instant.

I had seen grace performed here several times, but never had it finished so quickly. As soon as the prayer was over, the bishop was the quickest to start spooning the stew.

George, who usually devoured the stew to the point of licking the bowl, was now nibbling at it with a spoon, maintaining decorum in front of the bishop.

“`

“Mmm… this is savory and smooth… delicious indeed, very delicious. Tell me, was it… Logan, you said?”

The bishop, who had emptied his plate of stew faster than anyone, looked thoroughly satisfied.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Logan, you’ve lost your memory, haven’t you? By your looks, you don’t seem to be from Europe…”

Fred, who had been watching the bishop’s expression stiffly until a moment ago, seemed to relax as the bishop’s face filled with satisfaction, and he opened his mouth cheerfully.

“Your Grace, this friend came from a place called ‘Korea.'”

“Is that so? Korea? A country I’ve never heard of… Logan, what did you do in your country?”

“Well, I’ve lost my memory, so I can’t remember anything but the name of the place I came from.”

“Hmm… Despite losing your memory, the fact that you can cook such a fine stew suggests that you must have been a remarkable chef.”

“A remarkable chef… that’s flattering.”

It’s no wonder that my humble home cooking suits the taste of such a bishop, for this is 16th-century England. With cooking methods not yet fully developed, even the nobility would hardly have tasted proper cuisine.

“You’re even modest! I like that even more! Tell me, Logan. Would you come with me? I’d like to employ you as my chef. I don’t know how much you’re paid here, but I promise a salary befitting your skills. Honestly, how much could you possibly earn here? Isn’t that right, Fred?”

“Ha ha…”

The bishop, wearing a cheerful smile, joked with Fred.

Fred had no choice but to play along with the bishop’s joke with a reluctant expression. What could he do? Fred too was in business with the bishop’s permission. How could the subordinate challenge the superior?

“If Your Grace wishes it…”

“Good! Then it’s decided. Pack your things quickly and come down. In fact, I’ve delayed my work to come here, so I must return promptly.”

Who would have thought it would be so easy to catch the favor of such a high-ranking official as a bishop?

Of course, the fact that he’s an Anglican bishop is a bit of a concern, but even the ‘Bloody Queen’ wouldn’t punish a mere employee.

I’ve heard that Mary I, despite her fierce nickname, did not touch those who converted to Catholicism. Elizabeth also pretended to convert to Catholicism, so when the time comes, I’ll just insist on converting, and that will be that.

“`

Before leaving, I realized there wasn’t much to pack.

Just two books and a smartphone, I stuffed the clothes I wore from the city into the bag with my wallet, and it became quite bulky.

As I gathered my belongings and tried to leave the room, my steps wouldn’t easily fall.

It seems I’ve grown fond of the people here over just a little over a month. Perhaps, it’s thanks to them that I could connect with the bishop.

Fred. If he hadn’t found me first, or if he had harbored even a hint of malice, things wouldn’t have resolved so smoothly.

Thinking this, I couldn’t just leave without preparing a gift for Fred.

* * *

Descending to the first floor, Bishop Thomas on his donkey was urging me to hurry.

Though I don’t know where he got it, there was a donkey tied up for me to ride.

“Ah, Bishop, just a moment!”

I excused myself to the waiting bishop and approached Fred.

“Fred, thank you for everything.”

“Thankful? You ate two of those… chocolates, or whatever they were, so you’ve paid your dues.”

Despite his brusque words, Fred had been considerate in more ways than one.

Not only did he introduce me to the servants, but I also heard from George that he told the people around not to look at me strangely because I looked different. Despite his words, he’s a kind-hearted man.

“Then let’s settle it at that. More importantly, you know how to make cream stew, right?”

“Hm? Oh, are you worried about that? Don’t worry. Without your permission, I wouldn’t…”

“No, it’s not that. Feel free to make the cream stew as you wish. Here, take this.”

“Huh? What’s this? Isn’t this paper? Why would I need…”

Since the first and last pages of the speech collection I had were blank, I tore them out and wrote down recipes that could be adapted to make stews.

—

For reasons unknown, since falling into this place, I’ve been able to listen, speak, and even write in English without any trouble.

I can only guess that it’s possible because I can recall anything I’ve seen once.

“There are other dishes you can make based on cream stew, you know? I’ve written down three simple ones, so please make them for the other gentlemen later. You can even sell them if you like.”

I saw Fred’s eyes trembling. He seemed to want to say something to me, but due to the bishop’s urging, he had no choice but to turn around and mount the donkey.

“Then, everyone, stay healthy!”

And so, after a month and three weeks, I was able to settle in London as Bishop Thomas’s cook.

* * *

“Fred, so what was written on the paper Logan gave you?”

Kevin, the eldest among the servants, spoke to Fred.

Kevin and Fred were close in age, closer than anyone else among the servants, which allowed Kevin to ask without hesitation.

“Oh, this paper…? The, you know, cream stew.”

“Ah! Did he leave the recipe for that cream stew?!”

As Kevin’s voice echoed, a flush of excitement spread across the servants’ faces.

They had been disappointed, thinking they would no longer be able to taste the cream stew after Logan’s departure, but then they heard that he had left the recipe behind.

“Wow! I was so surprised, thinking we wouldn’t be able to eat it anymore.”

“Exactly, I even cursed the bishop in my mind!”

“Oh? You did too?”

“Heh, we’re like people who deserve divine punishment.”

The bustling voices of the servants rang in Fred’s ears. Standing there dazed, Fred opened his mouth.

“I know the recipe for cream stew too… But….”

—

“Hmm? So, there’s no problem at all?”

“The note here says it’s a different recipe using cream stew… for you to feed them…”

“But why? Why such a face? What, you don’t want to make it for us? Is it too bothersome?”

Fred shook his head at Kevin’s playful words and opened his mouth with a subtle expression.

“It’s not that… this handwriting… I can’t make it out…”