NOVEL NEXT Chapter 373
Cleaning out the warehouse for the setup of the large barbecue grill.
Renovation of additional ventilation facilities.
Installation of heat retention and fire prevention magic circles.
If we break it down one by one, there shouldn’t be much controversy.
The issue might be that it requires money and labor, but considering that Alfred has given his permission, these demands are rather modestly focused on a goal.
It’s common in any field to change the number and layout of a building’s purpose, whether it be high-risk locations like mines, mills, or kitchens.
While magic circles are rare, when expanding the field and scope, they are not as uncommon as one might think.
“But simply placing a barbecue grill in the warehouse won’t meet Sir Zigmeser’s demand for the number of guests,” I mused.
As my explanation grew longer, Catherine’s gaze grew dirtier.
“So I thought of a different strategy.”
“…And what’s that strategy?”
“I’m planning to convert the entire warehouse into a barbecue grill. I want to place barbecue grills in every space except for the required pathways for maintaining safety.”
Hadn’t this thought been brewing for more than a day or two? Catherine walked around, surveying the warehouse that would become a gigantic barbecue pit.
Metal stoves lined up along the walls, with a large, wide four-layer barbecue grill perched on top, its lid gaping open.
Catherine closed her eyes for a moment and quickly imagined it.
She knew how barbecue was made.
Countless chunks of meat, resilient and sensitive to fire and heat, would be meticulously managed by the dwarf chefs, all surrounded by rising heat and smoke.
The warehouse itself would act as a lid to retain the heat. It might seem smoky, but with the ventilation systems and the power of magic circles, there would be no foul atmosphere.
The aroma of evaporated juices and oil mixed in with the smoke, and the sweet ballad of barbecue cooking slowly.
“I was almost tempted to try making a giant barrel barbecue… but I can’t think of a way to do that right now—”
“Wait a moment. More than that.”
Catherine, lost in a deliciously intoxicating thought even with her eyes closed, barely collected herself.
“Heat retention and fire prevention magic circle installation?”
“Yes. They said we could start together from the day after tomorrow when the renovations are somewhat complete.”
“Who said that?”
“Uh… it was Mr. Auger?”
“Why am I just hearing this now?”
Catherine put her hand on her forehead, sensing the strangeness in his eyes. She could guess what happened.
Most likely, it was atop a heap of papers hastily piled up for dinner, which she had placed there herself.
“Ha, fine. Well, I got it. Using a warehouse like this for the kitchen and a simple stove is a little ridiculous, but it’s common back home.”
“Back home?”
“Servianus, I mean.”
“Ah… you said that was your hometown.”
Catherine nodded as she flipped her hair and stepped outside the warehouse.
“Doesn’t seem like you’re adapting well?”
“What’s there to be unaccustomed to?”
“Anyway, so what about Servianus?”
“Servianus has had many nicknames since ancient times.”
The heir to the ancient empire, the land of gastronomy, the land of wine (controversial), the land of entertainment, among others. And what Catherine is trying to say now is—
“The land of feasts.”
“A land of feasts?”
“Yes. The wealthy class of Servianus flaunts their power by hosting feasts in the city.”
Since the wealthy would include nobles, I questioned if a method of displaying power by throwing feasts was indeed healthy.
“Naturally, the larger the family fortune, the bigger the feast will be. Some wealthy even use an entire building solely for roasting whole animals.”
“That’s just an absurd amount of money.”
“Wealth and traditions that have persisted since the days of the Palatino Empire don’t just disappear.”
Even with the fall of the empire due to the demon king’s army, some remained behind. Naturally, the wealthy were the quickest to escape.
With the country’s collapse, it’s foolish to claim there’s no fortune left.
True wealthy individuals store their wealth separately.
“Anyway, yes. These building-type cooking tools are rare outside of Servianus.”
Catherine cast the cleaning magic on Karem while surveying the warehouse once more.
Such buildings weren’t exclusive to Servianus. Eisenvaldt had the world’s largest brewery, and Bersengzeto boasted the largest winery in the world.
“I can’t help but wonder how it ended up like this.”
Karem sighed deeply, lamenting. Ever since the royal brewery incident in summer, he felt his schedule had increasingly gotten busier, and indeed, it had.
To top it off, with the weekly offerings to the deities and the upcoming dinner for Wales at the end of the month… a sigh escaped him.
Fortunately, the royal brewery and Memorial Day barbecue were deadline events.
“You’ve fallen into the trap you set.”
“I can’t say that about the royal brewery incident, though.”
Karem inadvertently frowned.
Still, he did not want to bear the blame for the king devouring the food meant for babies.
“Well, you just have to hold on a little longer.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just be aware of that.”
What a mysterious statement to make.
*
*
*
The kitchens of Winterhome were bustling with activity, busy due to Memorial Day.
A goblin’s hand would be desperate at this time, as the cooks had been called up, and they were all dwarves without exception.
Surprisingly, there was no resentment.
They had become the subjects of envy and admiration instead.
The dwarf cooks gathered together at one place, Sir Zigmeser’s private kitchen.
Gulp—
Amidst the tension, a loud gulp echoed.
It was meaningless to discuss who swallowed.
Everyone staring at the divine object in front of them shared the same feeling.
The divine object was carefully wrapped in oil paper. There was not a single gap.
Yet an extraordinarily sweet aroma wafted, completely occupying the identity of the private kitchen.
“Boss! How much longer are we going to wait?”
“Not yet. We’re still waiting.”
Sir Zigmeser dismissed the urgency of his impatient subordinate decisively, despite the size and beard.
“To have meat before you and not eat it!”
“You fools. We need to let it rest. We can’t afford to let even a bit lose its taste because of impatience and greed!”
“Head Chef! Then, shouldn’t it be two instead of one?”
“Quiet!”
Sir Zigmeser silenced his subordinates’ protests with a single roar and watched the falling sand in the hourglass with bloodshot eyes.
This would be the sixth time the sand hit the bottom.
The resting time, which they had been reminded of repeatedly, was coming to an end.
The flow of sand in the hourglass thinned, and precisely at the moment the last grain fell—
Swoosh-!
Sir Zigmeser, in a display of speed unbecoming of a dwarf, made a decisive cut.
The seal they had tightly held onto was ripped apart in an instant.
Creeeeeak-!
“Oh my god. That smell!”
“How can we wait this long for something that’s neither steamed nor stewed?”
“Do you sense that strong scent of fire?”
“Has resting finally ended… oh wow…”
The now richer aroma made the dwarf chefs’ eyes glaze over with thoughts of beer.
Sir Zigmeser was among them, but his hand holding the knife remained steady.
The moment he transferred the brisket from the oil paper to the cutting board, the knife moved swiftly like a giant eagle attacking its prey.
The brisket had become so tender that it would easily shred if held with hands, and each motion he made accumulated thin slices of brisket.
In an instant, Sir Zigmeser had expertly trimmed all of it, placing the chef’s knife down to grab the barbecue sauce bowl.
“Alright.”
“Boss, does that mean—”
“Let’s taste it now!”
Without a sound, the seven dwarf chefs who had been eagerly anticipating that one phrase lunged toward the brisket.
Sir Zigmeser joined in the frenzy.
The surface, condensed with juices and pepper, flesh softer than pudding.
As the divine flavor filled their hearts, the dwarves almost melted, but they quickly regained their focus.
“Oh my god! The smoothness of Sorn’s rear end! How can meat be this tender!?”
“What!? This flavor is possible with just salt and pepper…!?”
“This is a revolution in cooking. Such a divine taste! Oh, the barbecue sauce! Did we forget there’s sauce!?”
“Wait! Sir Zigmeser! Have a piece each!”
Astonishment flowed endlessly.
Sir Zigmeser paused, almost agreeing but stopping short. Could it be that he was the one who had eaten two pieces?
With flavors and temporal masterpieces lingering on his tongue, along with ample barbecue sauce, Sir Zigmeser finally grasped the source of its taste.
“Time and temperature control, moisture replenishment.”
All of those were the beginning and the end of barbecue.
To produce such flavors with something he had barely cared for amidst the hustle of half a day in the private kitchen…
Then what taste could come from refocused and carefully controlled temperatures and consistent moisture replenishment? Sir Zigmeser could only imagine.
Maintaining his dignity as an overseer had become impossible.
He had neither facial hair nor hair to begin with, so that status had never existed!
“I can’t take it anymore!”
“Sir Zigmeser? Could it be—”
“Yes!”
Sir Zigmeser’s smooth chin pointed toward the opposite side of the private kitchen. Every dwarf’s head turned to see barrels of beer.
“Crack open the barrels and fill the cups!”
“I’ve been waiting for that word!!!”
The dwarves rushed to grab cups, tilting the opened barrels to fill them.
Sir Zigmeser clenched his first cup. But he didn’t drink yet.
“First, a bite…”
The taste of a tender brisket piece without sauce and the deep flavor of the tender meat spread through his mouth.
As the scent of fire and meat permeated, he quickly tilted the cup before it was too late.
Gluuuuuup-
The carbonation washed away the oily richness in his mouth.
The rich flavor of his homeland flowed down his throat.
“Oh my god! When did I eat it all!?”
Sir Zigmeser, struck by that thought, slammed his cup on the table and stood on tiptoes. Indeed, it was true.
Inside the torn oil paper on the cutting board.
Only remnants soaked in juices and oil remained.
“With so much sauce left… no, that’s not it.”
Sir Zigmeser waved away the pleading gaze of seven pairs of eyes that asked if he could make just one more batch to try. There was something far more crucial at hand.
“For now, I believe everyone has memorized the recipe.”
Sir Zigmeser didn’t wait for an answer.
Everyone would undoubtedly remember.
“Barbecue fundamentally uses pig shoulder, brisket, both rib sections, and pork belly, as it states.”
“Are those the only cuts to use?”
“Could be. But there are definitely other cuts available.”
Everyone agreed with the head chef’s words.
“The primary cuts are those, but other meats can be used too. However—”
“There must be specific meats suited for barbecue.”
“Right. Just imagine cooking a beef tenderloin that way.”
Not one dwarf nodded in agreement. Everyone instinctively realized that a low-fat tenderloin wouldn’t suit barbecue.
“But chicken might be quite good.”
“How about roasting an entire pig whole?”
“Let’s toss in sausages to roast together.”
“Sausages! That’s a brilliant idea!”
“Mammoth meat… not an option. Ah, that’s unfortunate.”
“Let’s debate this through the night and seek improvements on how to cook! Chief!”
That evening, once all tasks had concluded.
Sir Zigmeser and the seven dwarves locked themselves away in Sir Zigmeser’s private kitchen for research and a bit of personal motivation.