That Wonderful, Delicious Red One (5)

“What? The young master hates vegetables!?”

I was so surprised by Agata’s words that I could only repeat them back to her.

Agata nodded and answered with a frown.

“That’s right. Apparently, no matter how deliciously they’re prepared, he absolutely refuses to eat them! Not just salads—even vegetables simmered until sweet, anything at all! And if they’re mixed into something, he won’t touch the whole dish, so the chef was complaining that they end up having to throw everything away.”

That must have been painful for Agata to hear as the person who grew them.

To think she could raise such magnificent vegetables and still have him refuse to eat them.

Still, I was surprised that the young master was such a picky eater.

I supposed that side of him really was quite childlike.

Now then, the question was what to do about it, but there was one thing I wanted to make clear first.

I was completely against forcing children to eat things they hated.

I liked just about everything myself, but whenever I saw children crying at school because they were being forced to eat something they hated during lunch, I always felt sorry for them.

Turning what should have been an enjoyable mealtime into something like torture was simply unthinkable.

Forcing food into his mouth while saying, “Young Master! Vegetables are good for you!” went completely against my principles.

Exactly.

“If he hates them, then it’s up to the person serving them to figure out how to make them delicious enough for him to enjoy…!”

Agata stared at me with a slightly disturbed expression as I muttered that and chuckled ominously to myself.

“…You know, somehow you seem way more like a witch than I do…”

“Hey, Shirley. Are you really planning to use these?”

After we returned to the maids’ kitchen, Anne asked me anxiously as I lined up the tomatoes Agata had given us.

“I just can’t imagine the young master being happy about vegetables…”

“Hehehe, just watch. I’m about to transform these into something children around the young master’s age absolutely love. All right, then.”

I answered Anne with complete confidence, then took that certain something out of the refrigerator.

Yes, one of the many jars I had brought with me from home.

“Okay, let’s get started. I want you to learn how to make this too, Anne, so we’ll do it together.”

With that, I lit the stove and placed a pot filled with water over it.

While the water heated, we thoroughly washed the tomatoes, removed the stems, and scored a cross into each one.

Once the pot was hot, we dropped the tomatoes straight in.

After heating them for only about ten seconds, we immediately scooped them out and chilled them in cold water.

Their skins peeled off easily after that, so we removed them all, then chopped the flesh as finely as possible with a knife.

Once that was done, we transferred the tomatoes to a bowl, added equally finely chopped onion and garlic… and then came the next step: grinding everything down until it turned into a liquid!

“Ahh, there’s more grinding again…! Shirley, your recipes involve way too much of this!”

“Hang in there, Anne! Delicious cooking requires muscle!”

As Anne began grinding with a whine, I worked alongside her while offering equal parts encouragement and tough love.

I certainly didn’t want my delicate maidenly arms growing more muscular by the day either, but there was no helping it.

A blender would have made things much easier, but expecting one of those was probably asking far too much.

Besides, this was much easier than cacao. These ingredients were soft and crushed easily.

Once everything had become a smooth liquid, we poured it into a pot while panting heavily and heaving for breath.

As it heated, we added sugar for seasoning, salt and pepper, a bay leaf, and then one more thing.

I poured in the contents of one of my homemade jars, brought the mixture to a boil, then lowered the heat and slowly cooked away the excess moisture.

And what we ended up with was that thick, bright-red wonder.

The two of us each took a little taste… Anne’s eyes widened in genuine astonishment, while I smiled with the certainty of victory.

Everything was ready.

Young Master, I hoped you would look forward to tomorrow.

…Or so I thought, brimming with confidence.

We had been so absorbed in cooking that we never noticed the gaze fixed steadily upon us from beyond the kitchen.

“Now then, today’s snack time shall begin.”

“We are at your service, Young Master!”

At the head maid’s command, all the maids bowed to the young master.

Sunlight poured brightly into the courtyard, and today’s snack time began beneath the pleasant open air.

Each team had once again prepared whatever snack they pleased, and every single one looked delicious!

I found myself stealing glances at them while thinking how much I wanted to sample them.

But when I suddenly looked around, I noticed that everyone’s attention seemed to be focused on our Team Five.

“…Shirley. What exactly is that?”

At last, the head maid could no longer ignore it and asked the question.

I answered while diligently grilling the long, slender things I had brought over a small charcoal brazier.

“Why, just as you can see, they are Frankfurt sausages!”