The Cream Stew Of Beginnings - Part One

I loved cooking.

When I was little, watching my mother cook and growing up on her delicious food naturally sparked my interest in it.

It was only in the third grade of elementary school that I was finally allowed to help out a bit, then in junior high school I began handling a knife, and by high school I was managing the pots.

Living like that, by the time I was in high school, I had improved enough to pack my own lunches. Sharing my lunch with my classmates was a daily routine.

So, after graduating high school, getting a job, and moving out on my own, my hobby only deepened further.

I had both the time and money to spare, after all.

I bought up Japanese, Western, and Chinese cookbooks to study, researching history just to recreate dishes from the past.

My immersion was so intense that even my construction site supervisor remarked,

“Your cooking is delicious, but you definitely chose the wrong career.”

Indeed, why on earth was I working as a plumber?

I had simply chosen a safe line of work so my parents wouldn’t worry. I had no regrets about it.

After about two years, I had ended up cooking the food for all our after-work drinking parties. According to the company president,

“Your food tastes better and costs less than the restaurants around here,”

Or so he said. Cooking was fun for me anyway, so it was no trouble at all.

Then came the day I turned twenty.

I had been on my way home from grocery shopping.

For reasons beyond me, my hands were bound behind my back, and I was surrounded by men holding spears and swords.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

I was the one who wanted to know that.

On my way home from shopping, I got swallowed up by a mysterious light and suddenly ended up right here.

I must have dropped my bags when I got dragged in, so I had neither my wallet nor the groceries I bought—nothing at all.

Jeans and a white T-shirt—that was the sum total of my wealth.

HAHAHAHAHA.

“What are you laughing at!”

Oh dear, it seemed I had made him angry.

The man in front of me was glaring at me with sharp eyes.

I wanted to run away barefoot. No, shoes were part of my assets too, so throwing them away would be a bad move.

“Umm, my name is Shuri. Where are we?”

“I am the one asking questions. Do not speak out of turn.”

Fair enough.

Looking around, I saw filthy tents like the ones from old war movies.

There were pots set over open fires, boiling soup, making me wonder what era I had dropped into.

There were also people sharpening swords, spears, bows, and arrows.

And right in the middle of all that, I was bound like a criminal.

“You said Shuri, right? Who do you serve? Which village are you from?”

“The Japanese countryside.”

“Nihon… Never heard of it.”

“Excuse me, I just got lost and ended up here, so I don’t even know where this place is.”

“Shut up.”

It seemed I had no rights here. Give me a break.

“By the way, I’m hungry.”

“Shut up, so are we.”

Oh, it seemed the leader-like figure in front of me was also hungry.

Looking around, the four men surrounding me all looked starved as well.

It appeared I had arrived right at mealtime. Talk about bad timing.

“Captain, what should we do with him?”

“Doesn’t look like he has anything worth stripping.”

“Keeping him like this feels like a waste of time too.”

“However, we cannot just leave him be. We should execute him quickly and prepare for battle.”

Dangerous. Apparently, this was their pre-battle meal.

And it seemed I was about to be stripped of everything I had left.

“Excuse me, if I may?”

“What is it?”

“Since I’m hungry, could you let me cook something?”

“…Are you a cook?”

The massive man acting as the leader—let’s just call him Leader for convenience—looked at me suspiciously.

He was a handsome guy with cropped blonde hair, sharp eyes, and incredible muscle build. As an average-looking guy, I was envious.

That handsome Leader was clad in full armor. I’d only ever seen armor like that in movies.

“I can cook just about anything. If you’re going to kill me, at least let me cook a meal for us first.”

Of course, I didn’t want to die. I really didn’t want to die. I was not going down like this!

“Interesting.”

With a short chuckle, the Leader grinned. It was a cool, cynical smile. A handsome guy stays handsome anywhere, doesn’t he?

“Then prove it. Make us a good meal. Depending on how it tastes, I might spare your life.”

“Captain?! Are you out of your mind?!”

“It’s right before battle. Raising morale with a bit of entertainment isn’t a bad idea.

If it tastes terrible, we can just kill him then.“

Dangerous. This was turning into a scene straight out of a historical cooking manga.

Once my ropes were untied, I was lent a pot, a cutting board, and a kitchen knife.

“Those are your ingredients.”

Where he pointed was a spread of milk, butter, flour, carrots, green onions, fish, salt, and potatoes.

“Is there anything else?”

“No. Even this is a luxury for us. Usually it’s just salt and potato soup.”

That’s rough… Just thinking about it makes me feel gloomy.

“Then shall we make a seafood cream stew? Shrimp would be ideal, but since we don’t have any, let’s make use of the fish scraps instead.”

Never underestimate fish scraps. They make a fantastic broth and add incredible flavor.

I filleted the fish into three parts, seared them quickly, and tossed them into the simmering pot to finish. If I didn’t have milk, butter, and flour, I would have made a clear fish broth, but I doubted these men would appreciate that, so I held back.

Besides, cooking over an open fire meant I couldn’t make anything requiring precise temperature control. A stew-style soup that could handle high heat was my only viable option here.

Above all, cooking with firewood was completely alien to a modern guy like me. I barely pulled it off by constantly keeping high heat in mind.

“Here you go.”

I ladled it into a bowl and passed it to the Leader. By the way, I had already removed all the bones and entrails.

Even though it was made from fish scraps, I figured leaving bones in would ruin the experience.

“This is… the soup is white.”

“Because it’s cream stew.”

“If it tastes bad, I’ll kill you.”

How rude. My ingredients were limited, but I knew I’d made something great.

Taking a cautious bite, the Leader put the spoon into his mouth.

He froze for a moment.

“Umm?”

“Captain, what’s wrong?”

“…Delicious.”

The Leader began wolfing down the stew like a man possessed.

“Hey, give me more of this.”

“Sure thing, I made plenty, so help yourself to your heart’s content.”

“Plenty? With only that small amount of ingredients?”

“If you get creative with the water, fish scraps, and milk, you can make a large batch even with few solid ingredients. You’re all heading into battle soon, right? Eating until you’re mostly full with something delicious will give you the energy you need.”

The Leader looked at me in surprise.

By the way, stretching banquet dishes to feed a crowd while keeping the flavor balanced was something I’d done a hundred times before.

“…I see. You calculated all of that?”

Huh? I just thought it’d be nice if everyone got enough to eat?

“Do you have anywhere to go?”

“No. I don’t even know how to get back.”

In a place that was so clearly a foreign world, I had no idea how I’d ever return to Japan.

Once the Leader finished every last drop of the cream stew, he looked me straight in the eye.

“If you have nowhere to go, join our unit.”

“Eh?”

“As our cook. Your duty will be to make delicious food. Until you can return home, cook for us here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I say it’s fine, so it’s fine.”

“Umm, well then, I’m in your care.”

And just like that, I joined the Leader’s unit.