Cooking with Wild Game (LN) - Volume 1 - Chapter 3.4

4

“Alright, it’s done!”

By the time I was able to finally declare that, it had been around an hour and twenty minutes since I first placed the giba meat in the pot, according to my internal clock. During that time, I was devoted to scooping the scum, regulating the flame, checking the hardness of the meat, pacifying a starving Ai Fa, and occasionally actually saying something that was at least a little bit serious. It was a fun but difficult 80 minutes.

The inside of the house was absolutely overflowing with the irresistible scent of giba meat. I figured the main reason it smelled even more strongly than it did last night was because of all the fat.

Still, I had no interest in such petty matters at the moment. After all, now it was finally time to eat it!

“Sorry for the wait. Go ahead and eat as much as you please.”

I stirred up the contents of the pot with the ladle, then scooped up the first bowl’s worth and handed it to Ai Fa.

In the end, I decided not to add that pseudo-potato, the poitan, just yet. 60 minutes after I started the meat simmering, I added thinly sliced pseudo-onions (aria) and pseudo-pepper (pico leaves), but that was all.

And yet, the soup was still cloudy. It was a semi-transparent white soup, where the meat stock was clearly visible.

Yeah... This was more of a “giba soup” than a “giba stew.” After thinking on it, I decided that name was more fitting, considering I was using a meat base and just salt and herbs to flavor it. And if it’s a “soup,” then there’s no problem with using onions. It sure would be nice if poitan tasted like what they resembled, though...

In other words, self-suggestion is also a key point to enjoying a meal. And so, I presented my beloved benefactor with the dish I had crafted under the name of “giba soup.”

“It’s a strange feeling somehow, not having the poitan as part of the dish...” Ai Fa said with a deeply doubtful look as she smelled the soup.

Well, the stew from last night already had a pretty much perfect smell to it, so there wouldn’t be much difference at this point anyway.

After filling up a bowl for myself, I sat down in front of Ai Fa.

“To be perfectly honest, this is really more of a first try. It’s not exactly like I’m brimming with confidence over here. My plan is to use this as a starting point that I’ll keep iterating upon so, well, go ahead and tell me how you earnestly feel.”

“I don’t care in the least about how something tastes, so I can’t see any point in seeking out my impression.”

“I get it, I get it... Well then, let’s dig in!”

Ai Fa closed her eyes, brought a finger on her left hand to her lips, seemed to almost draw a line to the side, and then muttered something inside her mouth. Perhaps that was the ritual you performed in this world before eating. Though I got the feeling Ai Fa didn’t do all that yesterday...

But I mean, it actually made me feel sort of happy. It would be just plain depressing to be a chef in a world that didn’t know how to show proper respect to a meal.

But putting all that aside, it was time to put my creation to the test.

I started by scooping some of the soup up with my wooden spoon. A shining, invisible membrane of fat floated over the whitish liquid. The black powder sprinkled here and there throughout was made from pico leaves.

In terms of both smell and appearance, it was absolutely perfect. But even so, that wasn’t much different from how things were last night.

I had taste-tested several times throughout, but I didn’t know how it had all come together in the end. My expectations high, I finally gave it a sip to find... that it came out just right, and was absolutely delicious.

I didn’t use any miso or soy sauce in the rather rustic soup, so instead the somewhat quirky flavor of the giba meat was left to be accented by the pico leaves. The flavor wasn’t overly strong, but it had a richness to it that profoundly stimulated my appetite.

Ultimately, about a third of the water in the pot ended up evaporating, so the dish required some rather careful calculation. And I didn’t add any water, either. As a result, I ended up with a soup with some seriously dense, rich flavor to it.

Now, though, the issue was the giba meat.

I had only used a stick in place of long chopsticks to check the toughness, so it really was my very first time tasting it.

I went ahead and scooped up a slice of thigh meat rather than one of the chunks I shaved off the bone, and saw the ivory-white meat and the fat on it wobble rather charmingly. I took the little bit of meat, about four centimeters square in size and five millimeters thick, and chucked it on into my mouth.

As I bit down on it, I could feel the sensation of the meat coming apart. Man was it soft, even more so than I had been expecting. And yet I could still definitely sink my teeth into it, too.

The gelatin-esque fat and more elastic red meat blended together in my mouth, filling it with an absolutely delicious flavor.

Aah... This really is a top notch ingredient, just like I had thought.

There was no way it would lose out to that boar stew I had eaten three years back, even though the meat hadn’t even been aged.

Naturally, the effort I put into preparing it, as well as my exhaustion and hunger, were flavoring my thoughts on the matter. But even so, I had no intention of changing my opinion.

I had hardly used any other ingredients, so it was like the delectable meatiness was being conveyed to me directly. That untamed deliciousness of wild meat... I could definitely feel its presence. This was the true worth of wild game... Well, it may be strange for someone who’s only had wild game a few times in his life to say that, but that was what I was truly feeling at the moment.

I tried eating some aria along with it too, and now that it was a bit softer than it was yesterday, it seemed to fit just right in the soup. When I put it together with the soup and meat, the depth of the flavor only heightened. It seemed a bit more on the sweet side rather than having the sharp taste of an onion (well, it wasn’t actually an onion), I’d say. It really elevated the dish, as an ingredient that didn’t over-assert itself in terms of flavor or texture.

Yeah, this turned out pretty damn fantastic for a first try.

I looked back up as that thought passed through my mind, and caught sight of Ai Fa standing up with her bowl in hand. With that usual sour look on her face, she silently headed towards the stove. Had she already finished her first bowl?

I was glad to see that she was eating plenty, but I couldn’t help but worry if she was really savoring the taste...

After getting her second bowl, she returned back to where she had been sitting. She wasn’t even so much as looking my way... Now that we’d hit this point, the anxiety brewing within me reached a point where I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“So, how is it? I’ll admit I’m biased, but I think it turned out pretty darn well.”

After taking a sip of the soup, Ai Fa tilted her head.

“What do you mean? I already said there’s no point in seeking my opinion, didn’t I?”

“No, I mean, you did say that, but...”

For some reason, I just felt antsy all over. There was some feeling I couldn’t identify welling up in me, almost like it was trying to lean forwards in search of a place to go. Anger or sadness, misery or unease... I had no idea what it was, but I could tell that it definitely wasn’t a positive feeling at all.

“U-Um, I know my dish took a while, so, er, are you still saying that was all meaningless...?”

The look on Ai Fa’s face grew even more doubtful. Then, she suddenly looked down at the contents of her bowl.

The orange light of the flames caused her long eyelashes to cast shadows on her cheeks.

What should I do...?

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest like crazy.

All I could feel was an overpowering sense of dread.

“...At least to me, when it comes to food, there is no good or bad taste. A meal is just a means to keep on living.”

“Right...”

“I’m troubled, to have you seek an opinion on taste from someone like me. I simply don’t possess the vocabulary to express such things.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But the one thing I can say for sure...” Ai Fa started, looking up slowly and staring straight at me with her beautiful blue eyes. “Is that this must be that thing they call, ‘delicious.’” Her pink lips seemed to be having a bit of trouble forming words. “It’s like... the act of eating itself can be fun... and pleasant... and bring great joy. Is this what it means, to eat something delicious?”

I was at a loss for words.

Ai Fa frowned, looking just a bit pained.

“I understand now, why you’re so ridiculously passionate and serious when it comes to cooking. Or at least, I think I do... Maybe I don’t, actually, but at the very least, I have no intention of trying to deny the purpose behind your efforts.”

“Ai Fa...”

“I simply can’t find the words I should be saying right now. I can’t explain it any further. But I do believe that you did the right thing.”

And then, ever so slightly, Ai Fa’s beautiful mouth... started to pull into a smile.

“So please, don’t make such a pained face. This cooking of yours, it tastes good.”

I gave a single nod back, then silently devoted myself to eating.

I just couldn’t get what was going on, somehow.

The bundle of anxiety in the depths of my stomach had completely disappeared, but now the back of my neck felt hot, and there were chills running down my spine.

I felt like if I let my guard down, my heart would suddenly clench up.

In all likelihood... I was seriously, incredibly happy right now. And then my powerful emotions were mightily shaking me up in turn.

I must have craved Ai Fa’s approval even more strongly than I had thought, deep down inside.

Ai Fa was still the only one who understood me in this whole world, and I also owed her my life.

She’s stubborn, and blunt, and every bit as violent as any man, but she’s also kinder than anyone I’ve ever known, and likely carries some heavy scars deep inside, plus she’s had to live without relying on anyone else. This mysterious girl named Ai Fa was strong, beautiful, brave, and delicate, and I... I wanted her to acknowledge my existence.

Damn it...! Still, I’ll show you that this isn’t all there is to me!

That caused my fighting spirit to roar, and I ended up violently chewing away at the giba meat.

My battle still wasn’t over yet.

With that determination freshly renewed, I glared at my hated enemy. It was that pseudo-potato that lay off to the side of the stove: the poitan.