Chapter 84
Chapter 84. This Isn't Cooking, It's Art (1)
In this world, there exist beings called geniuses.
Those who, with a tenth of the effort, produce results above average.
Those who ascend to heights unreachable through effort alone, as easily as taking a stroll up the hill behind the house.
"You made this yourself?"
"Yes!"
"Without being taught by anyone?"
"That's right!"
Those who, in a culinary wasteland, climb to the domain of a first-class chef through ability alone.
"Could you…… teach me your know-how? I suppose that's too much to ask."
"Not at all! There's really nothing to it!"
Brigitte answered Penelope's question — hoping to glean her recipe — with characteristic brightness.
"The important thing is slicing the garlic evenly. About 2mm? That way the garlic cooks evenly and the aroma comes through nicely! Oh, and I remove the germ in the center because I hate the bitterness."
"And it's important to start with a cold pan! You put in the oil and the sliced garlic and slowly draw out the flavor over a low flame!"
"Right at the moment the garlic fragrance reaches its peak! You pour in the pasta water and shake the pan vigorously! At the very end, you add the pasta, finish it off nicely, then drizzle olive oil once more and you're done!"
Penelope had been listening with a 'she's actually telling us?' sort of feeling — and then felt the strength go right out of her.
It was because listening to Brigitte's know-how, she arrived at the same conclusion as Jurgen.
There was no magical recipe.
It was simply that Brigitte's level of fundamentals was overwhelming.
Even watching from right beside her and copying exactly, that taste would not be the result.
"It makes me happy seeing you enjoyed it!"
Meanwhile Brigitte herself — the perpetrator of this preposterous feat — was simply beaming away, making the cognitive dissonance something else entirely.
Well, geniuses did tend to be like this.
At this point, it became a matter of curiosity.
"Miss Brigitte, that was truly a wonderful meal. I heard your shop isn't doing well…… is that really the case?"
"Yes, I work hard at it but the deficit grows day by day……"
Unlike Penelope, Brigitte was the type whose emotions showed transparently on the surface.
The expression on Brigitte's face, which had been as bright as midsummer sunlight, became overcast with a monsoon front.
"But it's alright! Once I have the Warrant, surely lots of customers will come!"
She brightened right back up without even giving anyone time to console her.
At any rate, it seemed her claim of having no customers was not mere modesty but fact.
"What do you have as your main menu item?"
"I don't really have a set main menu item. I just make whatever dishes customers want right then and there!"
"Oh my……"
So it wasn't only the Aglio e Olio — that wasn't the full extent of it?
Jurgen's interest was piqued.
To be more precise — an interest that had already been pulling in that direction had now grown considerably in scale.
"For food this good to have no customers seems strange……"
"Right? That's what I think too!"
Jurgen looked at Brigitte with wide, searching eyes.
Penelope, who had been observing Jurgen, quickly cut in.
"Do you have any idea why?"
Brigitte paused for a brief moment before opening her mouth.
"Well, it's not that I have no idea at all……"
"What is it?"
"My shop is a little pricey, you see. For instance…… the Aglio e Olio you just had is 75 Pence. Oh, I'm not asking you to pay — I just wanted your opinion since you're both running a large shop successfully!"
"That seems like the problem!"
If Brigitte's main clientele were upper class or noble, the story might have been different.
But Britannia was a class-conscious society.
Even in food culture, the hierarchy was clearly defined.
In other words — a 75-Pence pasta was too much of a burden for commoners to pay.
"No matter how delicious, that price would be a stretch…… Are all your other menu items that expensive?"
"I can't help it!"
"What do you mean you can't help it. You should have compromised on the average spend per customer."
"No! 'Good ingredients, good food, good hospitality' is the motto of Brigitte's Dining!"
For someone who had asked for an opinion, there seemed to be little room for compromise in her words and manner.
From an outside perspective, it was a little exasperating.
"Even so, 75 Pence is a little……"
But to Jurgen it looked a little different.
"Don't be too hard on her. That price makes sense."
"What, why are you taking her side?"
"It's not that I'm taking sides……"
Penelope seemed somehow mildly out of sorts — but.
From Jurgen's perspective, Brigitte's pricing was entirely warranted.
Not in the sense that it was reasonable — but in the sense that it genuinely cost that much.
"The pasta she just made for us. The garlic, the oil — she used top-quality ingredients for both."
"Ah……! You noticed? That's right! Every ingredient I use at my shop is the very best!"
"And the pasta itself would be Brigitte's own handmade, wouldn't it."
"Wow, you caught that too! The store-bought kind just doesn't taste right! It's fresh pasta!"
To summarize……
Brigitte was a genius.
At the same time, it was also the limitation of an 'individual' genius in a single field when pitted against 'culture.'
With Y&P's Cola and chicken too — if they had tried to compete on taste alone, they would likely have met a similar end.
It meant that 'making something well' and 'selling something well' were different matters entirely.
But what if Brigitte were given the wings of Y&P?
How far might she be able to go?
"Hmm……"
Jurgen looked at Brigitte with the eyes of someone who had discovered a raw gem.
"……"
Penelope quietly.
Looked at Jurgen's profile.
***
After parting ways with Brigitte.
They checked in to the hotel they had reserved in advance.
The rooms were divided into two.
"In Soltera there were hardly any onlookers and Serena was there anyway so it didn't matter — but this is Albion. We each need our own room."
"Hm? Who said anything?"
"……I'm someone who has to worry about scandals, you know."
Finding his reaction somehow unsatisfying, Penelope gave him a light smack on the back for no good reason.
Making sure no one was watching, she entered Jurgen's room for a meeting.
She had momentarily forgotten in the bliss of Brigitte's pasta — but……
"This is a problem."
That pasta had been an enormous setback for Y&P Trading Company.
"It's like casting the net wide and then handing the catch to the cat."
Penelope looked anxious.
Win fair and square on 'taste' — and anyone can be beaten.
This had been the shared premise between Jurgen and Penelope.
That shared premise had been upended by a single plate of food.
"If that Aglio e Olio she threw together in no time was like that…… what on earth is she going to bring to the competition?"
On top of that, the one vote they had believed secured belonged to a fickle young princess.
Thinking about the potential Brigitte had demonstrated, it was easier to accept that vote as gone too.
But looking at the bigger picture — was this purely a bad turn of events?
"Not entirely."
"What isn't?"
"In terms of the competition for the Royal Warrant alone, she's as large a variable as there could be — but looking at the bigger picture of the Culinary Revolution, the story is a different one."
Y&P Trading Company was still very much on the rise.
However, relying on Jurgen's abilities alone, they would hit a ceiling someday.
Hanbin had been an excellent food development researcher and a gastronome, but not a professional chef.
He had mastered the making of accessible, popular food — but to look beyond that, more pieces of the puzzle were needed.
And finding Brigitte in the midst of all that?
She was a piece of the puzzle — a talent — that absolutely had to be brought on board.
"From a long-term perspective, recruiting Miss Brigitte may be more important than the Royal Warrant."
"……What?"
"However…… I'm not sure she would accept so easily."
"……"
"Hmm…… Miss Brigitte seems like the artist type……"
"……"
"The Culinary Revolution can't move forward without addressing accessibility and pricing — getting her to accept that will be the key……"
Penelope, who had been silent for quite a while, opened her mouth.
"……More important than the Royal Warrant, you said?"
Her tone had a coldness to it, sharper than usual.
"Naturally making sure CCC receives the Royal Warrant comes first. Taking Brigitte on as a partner is a matter for later."
Penelope laid out her logic with clarity and precision.
"She's clearly a good person, but she showed zero risk management, didn't she? She borrowed from a loan shark and entered a competition she might not even pass?"
"I agree to some extent. But perhaps she was that desperate?"
"And what if your directions are fundamentally different, as you yourself said? What if she wants to make CCC chicken cost 1 Shilling? Above all……"
Penelope took a breath.
"The reason we came to Albion right now is to win the Royal Warrant. It was our shared goal — something we decided together, you and I. And now you're saying recruiting someone we only met today has become more important?"
As she said it, Penelope didn't meet Jurgen's eyes.
What had begun as cold, measured words had, by the end, turned into something more like Serena's murmuring.
"You're right."
Jurgen realized something he had been missing.
"If Miss Brigitte wins the Royal Warrant herself…… it would be better to assume a scouting offer would be out of the question."
Back on Earth too, fine dining chefs were often of the artist type.
Brigitte, who maintained a deficit while staying true to her own culinary philosophy, was likely exactly that kind of person.
"You're right. Why would she join Y&P's offer if she already had the Royal Warrant? What would she have to want for? The order of priority was clear."
"Y-yeah! That was the point I was trying to make. Really."
Penelope nodding vigorously.
"Thank you for the advice. In that case…… defeating Miss Brigitte and securing the Warrant will need to be the short-term goal."
"Can you do it?"
"I'll have to try as far as I can. I'll pop down to the kitchen for a bit."
"……I'm a little tired today."
"Then get some rest. I won't be long."
Jurgen left the room.
Penelope, who ordinarily would have said 'It's Y&P business, I can't sit out,' and rushed along — stood blankly, waiting for the door to close, then let out a long sigh.
"……"
And waited for quite some time, but Jurgen did not come back.
"……If he had asked me to come along, I would have gone……"
Penelope murmured quietly to herself.
***
If this competition had Brigitte — who had poured her very soul into it, crying 'this is my one shot!' —
There was a man who had staked his life on it in a different form.
Baron Rangill.
He believed that receiving the Royal Warrant would be the signal flare announcing the Rangill Barony's revival.
He had brought the renowned Bellua Republic chef Auguste to Britannia, and had even spent vast sums changing his nationality.
It was obvious that the Royal Supply Committee, given its nature, would be exclusionary toward foreigners.
But Baron Rangill did not stop there.
"Yes, yes. Nothing major — about the matter I mentioned. Yes, yes, my goodness…… Thank you, Marquis. I shall never forget this kindness."
Baron Rangill set down the telephone he had been holding all day and drew two lines through his notepad.
"Phew. The hardest task is done."
The withdrawal of Marquis Eastwood from the finals had just been confirmed with that call.
Even a ruined merchant can live for three generations — the Rangill Barony, even with its fortunes in decline, had one final card to play.
The connections woven throughout the Social Circles, the influence exerted in political spheres, the name value built over long years.
Having secured the list of finalists, Baron Rangill picked up a notebook with the contact information of nobles he knew.
Auguste may have been a powerful mercenary, but victory wasn't guaranteed by that alone.
To reduce variables where possible, he had been diligently pressing palms together and asking other candidates to withdraw.
Nothing in this world was free, and nothing could be done empty-handed.
Baron Rangill had spent the majority of the enormous fortune — enough for three generations to live on — almost entirely on lobbying.
Already, approximately half — 6 teams — had promised to withdraw or throw the competition on the day of the finals.
"What's left is nothing but small fry."
The dangerous competition had been swiftly pruned away.
Now it was time to deal with those of comparatively lower risk, who would not be difficult to handle.
Commoners with no backing. A young lady from a distinguished count family but treated worse than a branch family. Someone like a royal head chef.
Those without the backing of a genuinely distinguished noble.
"All manner of utter riffraff showing up."
They were so lacking in roots that he had to separately commission investigators to look into their backgrounds.
"Is the investigation done?"
"Yes, I've brought the materials."
Baron Rangill quickly skimmed through the materials his butler had brought.
"The royal head chef is an incompetent who rose through politics rather than cooking, so he can be passed over……"
"Ah, no need to worry about that one. They say he withdrew the moment he heard Auguste had made it to the finals."
"Good. Then Y&P Trading Company? What about them?"
"They appear to have quite a bit of staying power. I'll send someone to make contact right away."
Baron Rangill, skimming through the materials and issuing various instructions, furrowed his brow.
"What, there's a commoner among those who made the finals? Letting through something as baseless as chicken — just how far do they intend to drag down the royal dignity, tsk tsk……"
"Shall I give that young woman some money and talk her around as well?"
"What a waste of money. She happens to have a weakness anyway."
Quick to understand.
The butler who had worked under Baron Rangill for over 30 years grasped his true meaning without difficulty.
"Yes, in that case I'll squeeze from the debt side."
With a noble like Marquis Eastwood, money was used to reach an agreement — but a deal, by its nature, was conducted between equals.
Baron Rangill was not the kind of indulgent noble to throw money at a penniless commoner.