Preparations For The Spring Festival

On a beautiful, sunny spring morning, I hitched Olivia to the cart and headed into town.

I needed to drop Noah and Mirei off at the town school, and I also had some business of my own to attend to.

Trees lined both sides of the main road, with grasslands stretching out beyond them.

As I looked around, I noticed the beautiful blue blossoms of the lungwort. The acacia trees were also covered in lovely yellow flowers called mimosa.

Mimosa flowers were edible. Perhaps I could pick some and try candying them.

The nettles were also swaying pleasantly in the westerly breeze.

Nettles were a quintessential spring herb, and their leaves were excellent for making potage. They produced a vivid green soup with a fragrance reminiscent of the grasslands.

“See you later, Lydia-san.”

“Bye-bye!”

“All right, have a good day!”

After dropping the two of them off at school, I headed to the mill on the outskirts of town.

I needed to have some wheat and rye ground into flour.

Things were different in cities and other urban areas, but ordinary people in the countryside stored their grain whole and took only what they needed to the mill to be ground. That way, it stayed fresh longer.

The mill belonged to the local lord.

The lord determined the milling fee, which in Fus was one-twentieth of the grain brought in to be ground.

I had never baked my own bread before moving to Goran’s territory, so having wheat ground at a mill was an entirely new experience for me.

According to the townspeople, some greedy lords charged exorbitant milling fees, but the fee here was apparently quite reasonable compared to neighboring territories.

Goran’s territory was renowned as one of the wealthiest regions in the kingdom, thanks to its thriving agricultural and forestry industries, its position as a major transportation hub, and the dungeons it possessed.

The royal capital might appear far more glamorous at first glance, but alongside its wealthy nobles were impoverished people suffering from hunger. Goran’s territory was rustic by comparison, but it had no slums.

Even something as simple as a mill could tell you a great deal about how the people lived.

“I’ll leave it in your hands, then.”

“Sure thing. I’ll take care of it.”

After speaking to the mill attendant, with whom I had become acquainted, I left the mill.

My next destination was the town hall.

The town would be holding a festival to celebrate spring in two weeks, and there was a planning meeting for it today.

The spring festival was an enormous event that attracted visitors from the surrounding villages as well.

Today’s meeting was for the people responsible for providing food at the festival.

In addition to the town’s restaurants and inns, people who didn’t have permanent shops could also apply for permission to set up stalls in the town square, where the festival would be held.

Participation was normally voluntary, but the town specifically invited certain establishments. Thankfully, our inn had also received an invitation from the town hall.

The meeting room at the town hall was filled with dishes brought by the various proprietors, and everyone sampled one another’s offerings.

The participating establishments coordinated their menus in advance to avoid selling the same products, ensuring that festivalgoers could enjoy a wide variety of food.

On the day of the festival, the lord would provide complimentary alcohol and whole roasted cattle and pigs.

That meant our job was to provide dishes other than roasted meat.

Under normal circumstances, restaurants could serve hot dishes hot and cold dishes cold, but things weren’t quite so simple at outdoor stalls.

I needed something that could be served quickly, was easy to eat, and was appropriate for a festival celebrating spring…

After considerable deliberation, I decided to make rabbit stew with asparagus.

Rabbits were said to be messengers of the goddess of spring, making them an indispensable part of the spring festival menu.

Apparently, rabbit wouldn’t be among the meats provided by the lord, and if I used magic stones to keep a large pot heated, I could serve the stew while it was still warm. Asparagus was also a vegetable that was in season during spring.

For my second offering, I decided on madeleines.

Apparently, there weren’t enough stalls selling sweets, so I had specifically been asked to prepare some.

These little cakes, baked in shell-shaped molds, were adorable, and I thought they would catch the attention of female customers.

One of the difficulties of baking cakes was getting them to rise just the right amount, but using baking soda made the process somewhat easier. Even though I wasn’t a professional pastry chef, I could produce these in large quantities without worrying about failures.

However, an unexpected problem arose.

“These are delicious!”

“They’re so moist, yet wonderfully light and fluffy.”

“The buttery aroma is lovely.”

…Instead of my rabbit stew, the dish I had put so much effort into, it was the madeleines that received rave reviews.

“Madeleines, you say? How unusual, something from the royal capital! These are wonderful! They’re beautifully shaped, too. I’m sure they’ll be a huge hit!”

The town hall official enthusiastically showered them with praise, barely giving me a chance to respond.

“Actually, madeleines aren’t from the royal capital. The recipe I read said they were a foreign dish. Since the baking molds are available for purchase, they might be fashionable in the capital, but…”

Although I had lived in the capital for many years, I was embarrassed to admit that I knew practically nothing about the latest trends. Besides, I hadn’t even set foot in the royal capital for the past year.

I attempted to correct his misunderstanding, but…

“Anyway, they’re delicious and unusual! Absolutely wonderful. How many can you make?”

The official seemed entirely unconcerned and immediately followed up with another question.

Looking at him more closely, I realized he was the young man who had helped me find my current house.

He had seemed like a rather simple, unassuming young man back then, but he was being surprisingly forceful today.

“…Well, I’ll have to prepare the rabbit stew, so I don’t think I’ll be able to make very many…”

I tried protesting in a small voice, but…

“In that case, we’ll have Elm Tree Manor sell madeleines exclusively. Please make as many as you possibly can!”

That was what he asked me to do.

“All right…”

Still, this was a spring festival.

When it came to food served at festival stalls, perhaps adorable little cakes would be more popular than dishes people could ordinarily eat at restaurants.

“…You say I should make as many as possible, but madeleines are relatively expensive. I doubt I’ll sell that many.”

I voiced my concerns to the official.

“How much would you charge for one, by the way?”

“I’d have to charge at least one-fifth of a silver coin each to make a profit. They contain sugar, after all.”

One-fifth of a silver coin was enough to buy an entire meal at a restaurant.

A madeleine, on the other hand, was a small, palm-sized cake that cost the same amount.

Eggs and wheat flour were already somewhat expensive for ordinary people, but sugar was even more costly because we had to import it from foreign countries.

And sweets required generous amounts of sugar.

“Besides, I also use lemon for flavoring.”

Lemons and oranges were expensive, too.

In our country, citrus fruits like these, which normally grew in warmer climates, couldn’t survive the winter without special greenhouses called orangeries. They were difficult to cultivate, and the heating costs during winter were considerable, putting them well beyond the reach of ordinary people. Or perhaps I should say the fruits were beyond their reach, rather than the flowers.

In the first place, lemons rarely appeared in the town markets frequented by ordinary people. For some reason, however, they were easier to obtain in Goran’s territory than in the royal capital. They were expensive, but they occasionally appeared for sale.

“Ah, so that refreshing tartness comes from lemon. I see.”

The official nodded appreciatively before declaring without hesitation.

“I think it’ll be fine. People tend to loosen their purse strings during festivals, and Elm Tree Manor already has a reputation for making delicious sweets.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Why, those famous pancakes of yours have been getting rave reviews among everyone I know! But Elm Tree Manor is a little way outside town, so plenty of people don’t have the opportunity to visit. This is the perfect chance for everyone to enjoy sweets from the famous Elm Tree Manor right here in town! I’m sure people will be delighted to buy them. They’ll definitely be a success!”

“Uh-huh…”

Really?

More importantly, our establishment wasn’t even a café in the first place, so how on earth had I ended up agreeing to sell madeleines?

I was growing increasingly anxious about the whole thing, but the young man from the town hall was brimming with confidence.

“It’ll be fine! Perhaps it’s because of the lemon, but these cakes aren’t overly sweet, and they have a moist yet somehow light texture. I think they’ll be particularly popular with women, but men will enjoy them too. Oh, that reminds me. I have a favor to ask you, Elm Tree Manor…”

“A favor?”

“Could you come over here for a moment?”

Apparently, he wanted to discuss something confidential. The young man led me to a corner of the room, glanced around to make sure no one else could overhear us, and whispered in my ear.

“I’d like to place a bulk order for these madeleines one week after the festival. Would that be possible?”

“Yes, of course.”

As I answered, I began thinking.

Was there something special happening a week after the festival?

Madeleines were rather expensive for an everyday afternoon snack.

Ordering a large quantity would cost a considerable amount of money.

Perhaps he intended to give them to someone as a gift.

The young man lowered his voice even further.

“The lord’s twenty-eighth birthday falls exactly one week after the festival.”

“Oh, does it?”

Twenty-eight, huh?

I hadn’t been particularly interested in the matter, so I hadn’t paid much attention, but apparently we were around the same age.

“His Lordship says there’s no need to celebrate, so there won’t be a birthday party or anything like that. However, we’d like to present him with something from the town. An unusual sweet like this seems like the sort of thing he’d appreciate, don’t you think?”

Don’t ask me to agree with you…

Still, under those circumstances, an expensive confection might actually be a good choice.

“But are you sure my madeleines would be suitable?”

“Absolutely. You see, our territory is currently working to promote lemons as a regional specialty. I’m sure His Lordship would be delighted to receive madeleines made with lemons.”

My eyes widened.

“…Are lemons grown around here?”

Goran’s territory wasn’t an especially warm region.

Its climate shouldn’t have been particularly suitable for growing lemons, but…

The young man proudly explained the reason.

“Did you know that our territory has several dungeons?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know all the details myself, but apparently there’s a dungeon that’s quite warm inside, and the surrounding area is warm as well. They’ve built greenhouses—orangeries—near it and are growing lemons there.”

“Oh…”

Even the climate inside dungeons could be completely different. I had heard that there were scorching dungeons where the heat was almost unbearable.

Using that heat to cultivate crops in greenhouses… Margrave Goran certainly had a good head for business.

“What’s more, I’ve heard they’re using the site of an abandoned dungeon to produce some kind of food ingredient called ‘jusō.’”

It’s baking soda, not jusō.

I had looked into the matter a little after our previous conversation and discovered that trona was found near large rivers and salt lakes. In fact, there weren’t any places in Goran’s territory that met the necessary geographical conditions.

That particular piece of land had probably once been a salt lake or an ocean-type dungeon.

Apparently, places that had remained dungeons for hundreds of years could undergo changes in their geological composition.

That would explain how a mineral deposit that shouldn’t have existed had somehow been discovered in Goran’s territory.