kscans

Chapter 85 - Chapter 4: Latter Half - The Allure of Black

"The color is the same as ever, but it’s completely transformed, hasn’t it," Rilka said, looking at the finished anko.

It’s better than I ever expected, really.

Set before us was a block of sweet bean paste, still holding the shape of the cloth it was strained in. Its fine-grained black surface bore the delicate pattern of the fabric’s weave. Someone said the color wasn’t good? This matte black is what makes it so appealing.

"You were the one who taught us the method, Vinder-san. And you gave us such fine tools. Plus, I think Vina’s help made the final result much better," Natalie said.

"Hmph. This is nothing when we put our minds to it," Vinaldira replied.

Unlike traditional sugar refining, making smooth anko is not fundamentally difficult. The first step is to remove the skins from the coarse anko using a strainer.

However, the fine mesh strainers you could buy at a dollar store in my previous life don’t exist here. I borrowed one from Plural, and apparently, it’s a rather expensive piece of cookware. Though, they lent it to me without a word after they tasted my yellow sugar.

Ignoring me as I was about to launch into a speech about anko, Plural had rushed into the kitchen. I overheard something about a cherimoya pie.

You crush the boiled beans on the strainer to remove the skins, then strain the paste through a cloth to remove excess moisture. That cloth was the tricky part. It’s not like I could look up a guide on the internet for the ideal weave. Even if one existed, I wouldn’t be able to tell which fabric in this world corresponded to it.

The one who saved the day was, of course, Vinaldira. There’s a saying about leaving mochi to the mochi makers. Well, this was a job for a fabric expert. It must have been a struggle for her, since her specialty is cloth for clothing, not for straining food. It turned out that a fabric with a slightly coarser weave than what we used for the yellow sugar was just right.

Meanwhile, all I did was expose my own ignorance about cooking. I had assumed you were supposed to strain the beans after adding sugar to make the coarse anko, but you actually add the sugar after straining.

It’s obvious when you think about it. Otherwise, all that precious sugar would just wash away with the water. There are probably issues with osmotic pressure, too. This is the downside of having only theoretical knowledge.

In any case, the fruit of our labor was now melting on my tongue.

Because we had thoroughly removed the moisture, the texture was smooth and fine, yet the flavor was rich. It was a magnificent balance.

"...Mochi. I need mochi. For the love of all that is holy, please!"

For someone like me, who had never tasted the kind of ultra-luxurious traditional sweets served to royalty back in my old world, this anko had reached a level on par with my past life’s memories.

"The bean’s deliciousness is so concentrated. It isn’t overwhelmed by the increased amount of sugar. What a gentle sweetness..." Sherry murmured, entranced.

"What do you think, Rilka? The texture is perfect now, right?" I asked her as she tasted it slowly, a cautious look on her face.

"You’re right. The lack of sweetness, the unpleasant feel of the skins... all the flaws are gone. It’s truly impressive, I have to admit," Rilka said, sounding genuinely impressed. Yes, Rilka has been won over.

"I was worried when you said we had to not only remove the skins but also strain it with such an expensive cloth. But texture really does change the taste, doesn’t it," said Natalie.

Flavor is a synthesis of taste, smell, touch, and even sight and temperature. That’s why there are so many different processing techniques, most of which are impossible here where the labor costs are ridiculously high.

"We never would have reached this level without Vinaldira-san, who was able to provide the cloth as a sample. I’m completely satisfied."

It wasn’t just the lack of small-batch, high-variety production. The level of processing in this world was small-variety and small-batch. And on top of that, the quality within that small variety was inconsistent. Even if we had found a cloth with the right weave, the whole thing would have fallen apart if even one section was too coarse.

"Hmph, so you understand. W-well, I suppose I can’t deny that your advice was sound," Vinaldira said, turning away.

"Hehe. Vina was so frustrated, you know. She said she couldn’t believe a fabric merchant like her didn’t think of helping in this way until you mentioned it, Vinder-san," Natalie added with a chuckle.

"Alright, I’ll go get the bread," Sherry announced.

"Wait," I said, stopping her as she stood up. "With this, we can compete on the flavor of the anko itself."

The quality of the smooth anko had far exceeded my imagination, and with it, my ambitions grew.

"It’s delicious, but eating it on its own is a bit much. You don’t eat honey or jam by itself, do you?"

"I know. Sherry, there’s something I need you to prepare, and it’s not bread. It’s that thing from the Shoken Festival..."

If we’ve come this close to authentic Japanese anko, I’m going all the way. I’m pushing forward to create a true traditional sweet.

◇◇

Three days later, my heart swelled with anticipation as I visited the Belmini Company.

"It’s already done?"

"Yes. I was shocked when I tasted it. Vinder-kun, you’re really something else..."

"This speed is all thanks to your help, Sherry."

Considering her work on the one-plate lunch for the Shoken Festival, it was easy to imagine how much of a help she’d been. By the way, Sherry had managed to procure the highest-grade gelatin from the Dalgan Company. Come to think of it, gelatin is made from animals, isn’t it?

"That’s for sure. She was dozing off in class. I bet you kept her up late working on this," Rilka remarked.

"...It’s fine," Sherry said. "I’m in this deep now, so we’re all in it together. Besides, you can pass judgment after you’ve tasted it. For you, Vinder-kun, results are everything."

◇◇

A glossy, black rectangle was pushed out from a wooden frame. Natalie began slicing it thinly with a knife. The texture might not be as firm as I’d like, but given the quantity, it couldn’t be helped.

With great anticipation, I placed one of the translucent black slices in my mouth. A soft resilience gave way to the fine, smooth texture of the anko, the two melding together as one. The flavor of the anko itself, adjusted to the absolute limit of palatability, glided across my tongue.

It was a genuine Japanese sweet I never thought I would taste again. It was yokan.

"Oh, that’s it. I surrender. What in the world are you? But the most amazing one here is Natalie, for making the anko in the first place."

"I know. She’s the most incredible one, for creating something from zero."

I only knew of its existence. She created it from nothing. The difference between us is immense.

"No one would ever believe this confection is made from beans, but it’s a flavor you definitely couldn’t create without them. To think that first thing we tasted could transform into this... I have to tell Father to increase our bean orders. No, we might have to rethink the entire scale of our cultivation," Sherry said, letting out a soft sigh as she began to flick at an imaginary abacus.

"It’s certainly delicious. But who are you selling this to? How much will one cost?" Rilka asked.

Natalie’s shoulders jolted.

"...The cost of the ingredients alone is one silver coin."

"I thought so. You’re using three times the amount of sugar that was already refined to a quarter of its original volume. That alone makes the sugar cost twelve times higher, and that’s before you even factor in the labor. The anko has to be strained, and you used the highest quality gelatin. You’d have to sell it for five silver coins a piece, wouldn't you?"

Sherry’s different kind of calculation silenced the room. I may have gotten a little carried away. Overcome with nostalgia for a taste from my past life, I had completely disregarded the cost. But...

"Don’t worry about that. If it suits the palates of our tasting party, we can expect the nobility to be our customers."

This isn’t something to be sold at a street stall. In fact, I knew from the very beginning that we couldn’t.

Our target is the nobility, a class starved for new flavors. After all, there is nothing else like this. If it gains a reputation, even its black appearance could become a selling point.

"This is where my connections finally come into play."

"Oh, be quiet. We all know it’s about more than just your connections now," Vinaldira said, looking away, embarrassed.

"Y-yes, that’s right. The Plural Company is going to be tasting it. I’m getting nervous," Natalie said.

"I-it’ll be fine! Any princess would swoon over this taste," Vinaldira encouraged, placing her hand over Natalie’s, which were clasped together as if in prayer. Hmm, that’s some nice encouragement.

"...Well, I suppose so."

Sherry, who had been so excited just moments before, now had a slightly distant look in her eyes.

"But, I think I prefer the first way we ate it, with bread and butter," Rilka muttered quietly. "How should I put it... it still feels unfamiliar. Like it catches on my tongue..."

"Catches on your tongue? ...Even this?"

I ate another piece and tilted my head. It’s as smooth as it could possibly be, and the anko’s flavor is vibrant...

I trust Rilka. I don’t think she’s holding onto her initial opinion just for the sake of it.

"Well, everyone else is praising it, so it’s probably just a matter of my personal taste."

"I see. Well, I suppose some people might feel that way."

There’s no flavor that appeals to everyone. In this world, traditional Japanese sweets are a new taste, so having four out of five people say it’s delicious is probably good enough.

A friend of mine who majored in biology in my old world once told me something. "In an experiment with living things, if every single subject gives you the exact result you wanted, you should actually be more worried." I think that’s what he said.