READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 52
Throughout the ages, strength has encompassed various elements, with a few variations but also some commonalities.
How powerful is one’s martial might?
How much can one eat?
How much alcohol can one drink?
And it seemed that in Iceland, it also included how much spicy food one could handle, Karem thought.
“Huuh! Isn’t the stimulation tempting us even more? Hyphon!”
“Whoa! Of course! You must try this spicy Highland Pork Tenderloin.”
“Absolutely! Ugh. You can’t have fried food without beer!”
Reflecting on this, it occurred to him that no one would keep eating if their eyes were tearing up like a newborn deer, their lips chapped from the heat.
Only after witnessing such a scene did Karem realize he had been mistaken.
After all, while everyone has different tastes in love, forcing one’s preferences onto others wouldn’t be right.
It was clear from Catherine, who rejected Karem’s red witch kimchi, yet devoured all the spicy food served at the banquet, that one could be drawn to flavors even against their will.
Excess leads to regret, while being overly greedy leads to loss, as the sages say; this applies to cooking as well.
A dish that is too salty would require tons of extra water and ingredients, but if it’s lacking flavor, just a pinch more salt would suffice.
It wasn’t just salt, either.
Some love the smell of ocean brine, while others can’t stand what they perceive as a fishy odor.
If he were the only one cooking for himself, it wouldn’t matter much.
Ultimately, a chef who serves others must accommodate their tastes.
In that sense, Karem handed Zigmeser a jar of garum, asking, “Could you spare just a bit? I’ll share the recipe.”
“Sure, but I can’t give you too much!”
*
*
*
The day after dinner in the Great Hall.
Waking early, Karem led Mary, who had completed her morning tasks, to the grocery warehouse.
They were busy organizing the food supplies for Winterhome and checking off requested items, but Karem, keeping his eyes shut in his mind, confidently entered the warehouse to grab the missing ingredients needed for his seasoned fried chicken.
“So, Karem junior. Did you get up at this early hour just to find this single jam?”
“Yep. There wasn’t any jam in the tower’s kitchen that I wanted.”
“If my memory serves me right, there are over ten kinds of jam. You mean to say none at all?”
“Is that really what you’re suggesting? Do you have a conscience…?”
Karem turned his head in disbelief, staring at the source of such an outrageous claim.
Mary consumed a shocking amount of food given the grueling labor she did.
For her meals and snacks, there were three staples she never skipped.
Bread, butter, and milk.
While she preferred white wheat bread, it seemed she would eat any kind of bread, and the quantity she consumed in a day was nothing short of terrifying.
And, of course, there was no way she’d eat snack bread without jam, meaning the amount of jam she consumed was also considerable.
It could be said that about 70% of the jam delivered to the wizard’s tower was sucked down by her.
Given the box of jam Mary was holding, it was safe to assume most of it was hers.
Knowing this well, Mary avoided Karem’s piercing gaze and quickened her pace.
Regardless, once back at the tower, Karem took a brief nap.
Awaking refreshed, he set about preparing Catherine’s breakfast, assigning Mary the clean-up without a second thought—
“Are you trying to steal my job? I can’t let my guard down for a second!”
“No, it’s just that I need to prepare for lunch!”
“Preparation, you say?”
“Oils. Oils.”
Of course, one couldn’t make seasoned fried chicken without oil, unless they were making plain fried chicken beforehand.
Chicken was already stored in the refrigerator.
They had some fat they received from the butchery the previous day, so all they needed to do was render the oil from it.
Bubbling, sizzling, crackling—
“Ahh! That sound.”
Pouring in some water, he boiled it fiercely as he tossed in all the chopped fat.
Before long, the water evaporated entirely as the fat began to fry, quickly filling the pot with oil.
“This should do.”
“The amount of oil is substantial. What do you plan on doing with it?”
“I’ll use all of it.”
Just then, as Mary was about to speak, someone barged through the kitchen door.
It was Catherine.
“Curse it! With a smell this alluring, how am I supposed to work?”
“Want some fried pig fat?”
“Of course! Why do you think I came all the way here!”
As soon as Catherine sat at the table, Mary eagerly approached her with the bowl of fried pig fat Karem had offered.
Fried pig fat, a byproduct generated when making lard.
The savory aroma that wafted from the remaining proteins as the fat cooked was simply irresistible.
And with Mary adding some salt and pepper, the outcome was needless to say extraordinary.
“Mmm. This crunchiness and savoriness! I can’t resist!”
The salt enhances the flavor, and with the subtle spice from the pepper covering up any greasiness, all that remains is the crispy texture and rich flavor of the fried pig fat.
Chewing on the offered fried pig fat, Catherine asked while reading a book, “So, what are you trying to make?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“You’re not planning something else in the kitchen, are you? You can’t possibly use all that oil.”
“No? I’ll use it all.”
Catherine’s eating slowed down at Karem’s unexpected answer.
She turned her head away from her book, staring intently at Karem.
The iron pot in front of Karem, straining out the remnants with a skimmer, was enormous enough to serve ten adults if he were to make soup.
And yet, what? He claimed he would use all that oil?
In Seophone Kingdom, where the rich and powerful eat only a bit, there weren’t exactly any dishes that involved deep frying.
Mostly, it was just a matter of pan-frying with a small amount of oil.
Even a king wouldn’t indulge in such a luxurious dish! What on earth was he planning? Well, it was clear he was frying something.
Mary, true to her nature as a house fairy, too quickly caught on to her master’s intentions.
Of course, she was just as flabbergasted, meaning her concern was quite genuine.
“Karem junior. Are you planning to grease the stomachs of everyone living in Winterhome?”
“Ah, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“Yes, an exaggeration. But your statement is not. What on earth do you plan to do with all that oil…”
“I was planning for lunch…”
Karem gazed out the window.
Just yesterday, heavy snow blanketed the skies, but today, not a single cloud was to be seen and bright sunlight poured down.
And it was still quite a while until lunchtime would arrive.
“Maybe it’s early, but how about a snack? How about doughnuts?”
“That sounds like a great choice, Karem junior. I’ll prepare the drinks.”
At the mention of doughnuts, Mary quickly regained her focus and nodded in solidarity with Karem.
*
*
*
In his past life, Karem had immersed himself in a myriad of cooking as a hobby.
The only area he had hardly touched was baking.
However, Karem didn’t worry.
One cannot accomplish everything alone.
After all, Mary knew how to bake.
“Doughnut dough? It’s not hard. But why…?”
“I’m not confident in pastry.”
At that remark, Mary looked at him as if an ogre was proposing a dance.
But Karem was completely serious.
While he could follow the recipe from memory, he was incapable of managing measurements and fermentation levels for baking.
The heart of baking is precise measurements, fermentation, and time.
And let’s hope for a perfect bake with a little prayer to the sky!
The latter, Karem was confident in, but not the former.
His only knowledge on natural fermentation and yeast was quite limited.
Eventually, Mary skillfully achieved a fine doughnut dough as per Karem’s requirements.
Following the steps to perform the first fermentation, shaped the dough into fist-sized pieces, and performed the second fermentation.
Once that was done, Catherine asked, “So you’re going to fry all that?”
“Yep. I plan to fry some as a test before preparing for lunch.”
“Wow, a doughnut that’s undergone two ferments. That’ll surely be incredibly soft.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted. Mary, could you please prepare a fruit punch?”
While Mary stepped outside, Karem immediately started dropping the doughnut dough into the hot oil.
Thanks to the double fermentation, the airy dough puffed right up, starting to fry in the oil.
The sound was reminiscent of a waterfall turned down to a tenth of its volume.
Checking the submerged portions of the dough by gently nudging it, Karem promptly flipped the doughnuts.
The golden brown doughnuts had a yellow horizon swimming just below the surface of the oil.
“Ah, just spreading honey on them would be fantastic.”
“But you wouldn’t be satisfied with just that, would you?”
“Of course not! Now that I’m at this point, they must meet my expectations!”
“When have I ever disappointed Sir Atanitas?”
“The Red Witch Pickles.”
As soon as that slipped out, Karem quickly turned his head back to focus on the pot of oil.
How should I put it, that was the result of a native who hadn’t tasted the flavors of his homeland in ages.
The boy ignored the prickling gaze on the back of his head, fidgeting as he stirred the floating doughnuts in the hot oil.
Fortunately, she had no reason to keep staring.
“All the doughnuts are fully fried now.”
“So, how are you planning to meet my expectations?”
“I’ll be doing it with these.”
Karem began to pull out a funnel and jars filled with jam.
Catherine, unable to hide her curiosity at the unfolding scene, slammed her hand on the table in awe.
As Karem pierced a doughnut with the funnel, he stuffed a quarter of the jam inside.
Taking out the funnel revealed a mere thumb-sized amount of jam remaining, seemingly evaporating before their eyes, but Catherine remained in a daze as she witnessed the spectacle.
About one-third of the jam, which they had received just a few hours prior and contained all kinds of fruits Karem knew and didn’t know—such as apples, grapes, plums, and figs—vanished just like that.
And Mary, returning with the completed drinks, had a predictable reaction.
“Titania! All of that jam crammed inside!”
“That’s what I’m saying!”
With the finale being a sprinkle of leftover powdered sugar, even Mary, who would usually eat what Catherine had finished, could hardly resist following suit this time.
Bearing a pyramid of jam doughnuts balanced on a tray, Karem placed them on the table as Mary immediately sliced one in half.