TSBSFVW 02

CHAPTER 02………..

One Loaf. I Opened a Bakery. Let’s Become Baek Jong-won (1)

In the kitchen of the McClure mansion, there was a pig.

Not an actual animal, of course.

But people thought an animal would be better—at least you could eat it. The “pig” in the McClure kitchen was good for nothing at all.

That “pig” was Lady Ellie McClure.

The legitimate daughter of Duke McClure, but no one ever called her lady.

When she was very young—back when her maternal family still cared about her—people would address her politely as “lady” and treat her with deference.

Maybe that’s why she had been so stubborn and ill-tempered then—grabbing any food she could reach, screaming at the drop of a hat, and bawling her head off.

Now, she was quiet as a mouse.

These days, no one called the “pig princess” a lady.

Even the servants working in the kitchen looked down on her. And how could they not, when the master of the house himself despised her?

“No one is to speak to her. Make sure she never comes into my sight. Tch, the stench of her disgusting sweat is unbearable.”

If anyone was caught even accidentally speaking a word to her, they would immediately lose their job and be thrown out.

The “pig princess” knew this, so she avoided meeting anyone’s gaze.

“All she knows how to do is stuff her face like an idiot—no wonder she’s covered in fat. Look at that bulk… the difference from fairy-like Elaine is like heaven and earth.”

She wasn’t actually pig-like.

Her messy brown hair, her plump cheeks… she had more flesh than average, but not enough to deserve the insult. With some grooming, she could even pass for a slightly chubby, cute young lady.

But as long as Duke McClure called her a pig, Ellie McClure would forever be the pig princess.

“Wouldn’t it be better to just throw her out? Why keep her here?”

“And send something like that outside? If rumors got out, the family’s reputation would suffer. Better to hide her away. Still, it’s shameful that the only legitimate daughter of the house is in that state…”

“They could lock her up in a convent. It’s not like she can talk much anyway. I’ve never heard that pig speak once.”

“That would require donations. Maybe they’re waiting for her to inherit her maternal family’s fortune, then they’ll send her off with that.”

“Which really means locking her away.”

“Then Miss Elaine can take her place.”

The pig princess, always hanging around the kitchen to eat scraps and loitering by the hearth doing something, was like a ghost in the mansion.

The only people who looked after her were the head maid—who washed or procured her clothes—and the head butler, who brought her whatever items she needed.

Even then, there was no conversation.

And then, one day, the pig princess disappeared.

It happened in the early morning, without anyone noticing.

Ellie was now nineteen years old.

On the day she regained her memories, she had lost a front tooth. That was when she made up her mind.

I will bring the taste of Tou Le* Jour and Paris Ba**tte to this land!*

Maybe this was why she had slaved away at part-time jobs like a dog in her past life—to serve the great cause of the franchise…!

Of course, that was nonsense. The real decision was simply: she would make and sell bread for a living.

Standing before the door of her newly opened bakery, Ellie clenched her fists tight. Even with her eyes closed, tears welled up.

How much had she gone through to open this bakery?

It wasn’t just the journey to opening the shop—just creating one proper loaf had been an ordeal beyond words.

There was no such thing as “proper bread” in this world.

The bread Ellie had eaten in her previous life was the pinnacle of modern technology, the product of long history and effort.

Here, bread was not a staple food. People preferred meat—it was easier to get.

And the bread here was something entirely different from what she knew.

Since wheat was scarce, they mixed it with other grains, and bakers would bake enough for several days at once. The result was, naturally, hard as a rock.

No wonder they always soaked it in soup.

Ellie’s family was a duke’s household, so they weren’t poor.

Unlike the common dark loaves made with mixed grains, they ate white bread made with good-quality wheat—and even that was awful. If this was the best in a rich household, she couldn’t imagine what others ate.

Even before regaining her memories, Ellie had been a bread-lover in this life, just as in her past life. The bread she’d traded her front tooth for at age eight had been a hidden stash—stale and hard as stone.

Good thing it was a baby tooth.

If it had been permanent, she’d still be living without a front tooth. This world didn’t have implants, after all.

In a world without implants or decent bread, there were hardly any bread-lovers at all.

Most people were devoted carnivores, expecting little from grains.

Because of the abundance of monsters, humanity had little farmland. The grain-producing regions were concentrated in a few safe areas, making output low. In contrast, the forests and mountains teemed with fruit and game, and even some monster meat was edible.

Still, even if meat was easier to come by, did bread have to be this bad?

Ellie believed that humans were born to love carbs and sugar.

If the people of this world discovered the glory of carbohydrates, they’d all be enslaved by them.

Rustic, hearty rye bread… nutty whole wheat… crusty baguettes with soft interiors… fluffy, fragrant milk bread…

Even plain table bread could be delicious.

Though, honestly, the quality here was abysmal before we even got to taste.

Ellie went through countless trials and errors trying to recreate the bread from her past life.

Luckily, as a member of a wealthy household, she had access to a hearth and good-quality wheat.

First, she procured a clean glass jar and sterilized it in boiling water.

No stray bacteria could be allowed, so she was meticulous.

Then she added water and tart-tasting fruit, sealing it tightly.

This was the very foundation of naturally leavened bread: the levain.

Extract yeast from the fruit, create a starter liquid, then mix it with flour to ferment—it becomes the natural starter known as levain.

Mix that into the dough, let it rise, and you get soft, fluffy bread.

Easier said than done.

In reality, it took months to produce a proper levain, and nearly a year more to bake bread successfully with it.

No one wanted to get involved with the antics of a spoiled, toothless, temperamental little pig princess, so she had no help.

In a way, it was convenient—no one interfered whether she laughed, cried, or shouted in front of the hearth, whether she roamed outside or stayed gone.

She was, after all, the child the duke had cast aside.

So many days of failure and frustration…

Unlike her past life, where she had resources and detailed information, here there was a lack of… well, everything.

Every night she wished she could at least watch YouTu**, but the damn gods never once answered.

It’s not like I asked for magic or super strength—just YouTu*, you stingy bastards…*

The only easy part was sterilizing the jar.

I seriously considered stealing and running away to hide in the countryside.

If not for the desire to eat delicious bread—not mere hunger, but pure passion—she would have given up.

Not that running away would have been any easier.

It took years more just to master the hearth.

Unlike a modern oven, the hearth’s heat was inconsistent, requiring hundreds of trials to get bread to bake properly.

But Ellie didn’t give up.

She was young, she had time, and there was plenty to do while waiting for dough to rise.

By the time she reached nineteen—the age of adulthood—she had prepared funds for independence, arranged the procedures and patronage to open a bakery, and more.

One of those “more” things had been dieting.

That was a spectacular failure.

Dieting was always something you started “tomorrow,” after all.

She escaped morbid obesity, but remained plump.

Her father still frowned the moment he saw her, his gaze full of disgust and contempt.

Not that it was just him—everyone in the mansion looked at her that way.

Pig princess, weirdo, mute, crazy—whispers claimed she was ugly, fat, and gluttonous.

The duke seemed to be waiting for her to have some kind of breakdown so he could have an excuse to lock her in a convent. Then he could finally put his illegitimate daughter on the family register.

On the rare occasions they met face-to-face, he would mutter loudly enough for her to hear:

“Pig of a girl. She just won’t die.”

“At least her mother had the decency to have a short life.”

“Too bad she couldn’t pass that on to her daughter.”

“An eyesore. Hideous thing.”

But Ellie refused to be intimidated. Gaining weight was natural—how could she not eat the many delicious creations she’d made? You couldn’t possibly eat sparingly when surrounded by good food.

Anyway, I escaped safely and will never see them again, so why bother thinking about it!

The important thing was that Ellie had—

Opened her bakery.

Her own shop.