I Opened a Café in Another World.

Volume 1, Chapter 29: Now, to the international royal conference.

The two months since I received Mister Royce’s request flew by in a blur, and suddenly it was the day of the international royal conference. As it was an event that also celebrated the country, there was a festive air in the royal palace and in downtown. The royal kitchen was hectic and everyone was bustling about.

The international royal conference would span for two days. There would be a dinner party for royalty and the ministers of each country today, and then a ball tomorrow for all nobility.

Although Mister Royce had only requested help with the dinner party, when I suggested a buffet with light food and snacks during the ball, he quickly agreed.

Personally, when I hear balls or parties, I would immediately think of wine and finger food. While this resulted in more work for the chefs, I hope they see this as a learning experience and try their best.

The dinner party today was also a demonstration of the country’s power, so it was a dine-in full course meal—the serving order was two appetizers, soup, a main seafood dish, sorbet, a main meat dish, dessert, and finally tea. Unfamiliar with the notion of a full course, the chefs were astonished by the sheer amount of food at first, but they rose to the challenge. I had finished instructing them in the processes, so all I had to do now was pray that we didn’t run into any big problems the day of.

After lunch, we began serious food preparations. The first appetizer was shrimp baked in its shell garnished with mock-asparagus and drizzled with an egg yolk and butter sauce. This was a simple dish where the shrimp, asparagus and sauce were prepared separately and then assembled, so it was very quick.

The second appetizer was a marinade-inspired mushroom and vegetable salad. This was also simple, where the mushrooms were lightly pan-fried before being placed on the vegetables.

The soup was pleuet potage soup. This time, we made croutons from the bread and scattered some on top. The pleuet potage soup would appear on the royal dining table every once in a while, so the chefs knew how to make it.

The problem was the main dishes. The seafood dish was grilled fish with tartar sauce, and the meat dish was hamburg steak, as it was His Highness Edgar’s favorite. Both were not good if they cooled, so both proved to be races against time.

The sorbet served between the main dishes as a palate cleanser was made with a fragrant strawberry-like fruit called meichi.

The dessert was mille feuille, provided by Café Omusubi. I enlisted Zeke and Helena’s help in making the pie crust a few days ago, and all the custard we needed was ready in the refrigerator.

As we went about with preparations, the sun quickly set and soon the dinner party was about to start. The kitchen instantly became more hectic.

“Lady Risa, shall I start preparing the second appetizer? Or should I wait until the first appetizers are served?”

“Uhm, okay, go ahead and prepare it. Ah…do you have any space to plate it?”

I balked at the sudden decision pushed on me by Keith’s question.

“I’ll have space if I squeeze the plates closer together. What should I do?”

Keith was also troubled by my indecisiveness. Usually I would give orders on the spot when it came to cooking, so I was also at the end of my fuse.

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“Keith, tell them to move the first appetizers onto the serving wagon. Then you’ll have space!”

The head chef saw that I wasn’t myself and barked out orders. As expected of the head chef. Our differences in experience and age really showed here. He was an indispensable presence in the kitchen as he shouted encouraging words to the slower chefs and dealt with any bumps in the kitchen line.

The dinner party began, and the appetizers were served in order. Next was the soup, which only needed to be plated and had croutons scattered on it.

“You idiot!”

“S-sorry!”

Suddenly the head chef yelled in anger, and I hurried over to see what had happened.

“Head chef, what’s wrong?”

“Lady Risa, I’m sorry. There aren’t enough croutons.”

“I added too many in the first plates and I ran out by the end…”

The young chef in charge of the croutons made a mistake and was on the verge of tears after being yelled at by the head chef. I looked at his table and the bowl with the croutons only had bread crumbs left.

“It can’t be helped that there are none left. However, it is an unforgivable offense if the first plates have croutons while the last do not. Fortunately, croutons are an easy recipe!”

I quickly took one of the loaves of bread that was going to be served and chopped it into cubes. I heated oil on a pan and dumped the bread cubes in. Once they were lightly fried, I quickly took them out so they wouldn’t soak in the extra oil. I picked one up to check and it gave just the right texture. I immediately went to the soup bowls and split the fresh croutons amongst the remaining five dishes.

“Thank you for waiting. Bring them out.”

I quickly moved the soup dishes to the serving wagon with the young chef and called the serving maid. She pushed the wagon out of the kitchen.

The soup problem was solved, but the real fight was only just beginning.

First, the grilled fish. I left this to the reliable head chef and sous chefs. I would be grilling the hamburg steak afterwards. The three of them seemed okay. They drained the oil from the grilled fish before plating.

It was about time to grill the hamburg steak. I placed four beef patties each on two heated pans and began grilling them. After five minutes, I flipped the patties and covered the pans to steam for ten minutes. Once they were cooked, I moved them to a frying pan with some mallow sauce in it. I heated the sauce, letting the flavor seep into the steaks, and plated them, finally drizzling some of the sauce onto the steaks. I asked someone else to garnish it with a vegetable glace and continued to grill more steaks.

Finally, all the hamburg steaks were grilled. I worked in a trance, and when I was finished I was covered in sweat. I mopped my brow with a towel and looked around. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. The sorbet was served between the main dishes without any trouble, and the hamburg steaks I just finished were on their way out.

Although I had a bit of time to catch my breath, I still had one more task—dessert, or the mille feuille.

I sandwiched a layer of custard between two pieces of pie crust, adding some meichi sliced in half on the top. A dollop of meichi jam in a curved line around the mille feuille…and done.

This was work that required specific technique, so I couldn’t ask others to do it. Although I managed to teach the chefs all the recipes we were making today in two months’ time, there was no time left to teach them sweets, too.

I kept going, completely in the flow. A layer of pie crust, a layer of custard, a layer of pie crust, meichi on top, a line of jam…

“There! This is the last one!”

I finished the last plate and straightened my back. I moved the plates onto the serving wagon while the maid in charge nodded and came over.

“We’re finished!!”

Upon hearing Keith’s words, some of the chefs dropped in exhaustion while others raised their hands in joy, all relieved that it was over.

I also breathed a sigh of relief and massaged my stiff shoulder.

However, for some reason my heart sank to my stomach. What is this horrible feeling? I thought as I stepped forward to talk to the head chef…

Freed from the tense and busy day, a young chef was jumping for joy. Behind him was the maid pushing the wagon of mille feuilles, who had yet to leave the kitchen.

Oh no, I thought, but I could only watch as he crashed into the maid’s back.

“Whoa!”

“Eek!”

The maid grabbed the wagon to steady herself, but the wagon toppled sideways with the plates of mille feuille sliding to their demise.

No! They can’t go to waste!

“Basil!”

“Yes, Master!”

I called Basil’s name immediately. While the rest of the chefs stared, dumbfounded, a light breeze blew through the kitchen. It kept the wagon from crashing down and the plates floated in mid-air. Then the wagon was set upright, and the plates were gently placed back on the wagon.

“Phew…thank you Basil. You’re a lifesaver.”

“This is nothing, Master!”

I was relieved that the mille feuilles weren’t ruined. Thankful for Basil, who answered my call immediately, I gently patted her head with my finger.

It would have been difficult to remake these desserts. It would have been a close call with the ingredients, but it would take too much time to assemble. Not only that, but I had done them all myself, and it would have been too late to instruct other people in assembly.

Even worse, most of the desserts had already been served. We couldn’t afford to have these plates be served late. After all, the representatives from every country were in the hall. Even if it was just a matter of the food being served to them, differences between countries would turn into a political problem.

Maybe I was overthinking this, but wars had been fought over food in my previous world.

All men had some form of gluttony when it came to food, or so it was carved into my head. Hatred surrounding food is terrifying.

Ignoring the chefs who still hadn’t caught up to the situation, I ran to the wagon.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yes, I’m sorry.”

I lent my hand to the maid on the ground and pulled her up.

“Can you still bring it out? If not, shall I call for someone else?”

“No, I am all right. I will bring the dishes out now.”

Fortunately, the maid didn’t seem to have any injuries, and she immediately pushed the wagon out of the kitchen. Meanwhile, the young chef who had bumped into her was getting chewed out by the head chef.

“You could have ruined that whole wagon of food!”

“I’m sorry!”

The young chef was on the verge of tears from being yelled at by the head chef, but this offense required a hard scolding. While the head chef continued to chew him out, the tense atmosphere in the kitchen slowly relaxed. To avoid getting the same treatment from the head chef, the other chefs who had been jumping around quickly busied themselves with clean up.

Among them were some chefs who came to me to ask about the weird events just now, and I told them the truth about having a spirit with me. They reacted with “Whoa” and “Amazing!” and got quite noisy again, but a sharp look from the head chef reined them in and they returned to their clean up duties.

The last thing on the course, the tea, was served by the serving maids in the hall, so my job was done for the day. I had focused really hard on the dessert assembly, so my eyes would not stop blinking. I pinched the part of my nose between the eyes to relieve some of the stress when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Lady Risa, well done.”

I turned to see the head chef. His face was also taught with exhaustion.

“You too, head chef. We managed to survive it all.”

“Yes. I was worried what would happen for a second there…”

“Ahaha, me too…We only have tomorrow left. I believe it won’t be as busy tomorrow, but let’s push through.”

“You’re right.”

The head chef smiled wryly and agreed with me. The sense of achievement at surviving through the day mixed with the anxiety for tomorrow to form some complicated emotions. On the other hand, the chefs around us had been quiet while the head chef was yelling, but soon they couldn’t help their happiness at completing the full course and began to chatter, albeit quietly, amongst themselves while they cleaned up. Noticing this, the head chef turned back to yell at them again.

“What are you lot chattering about!! We still have tomorrow to go! Those who are done cleaning, go check on the ingredients for tomorrow!”

The chefs jumped at his yells, replied, “Yes chef!” and ran about in a panic. The head chef shook his head and sighed, to which I laughed drily.