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Chapter 44
Eight Breads. Next to the Dog, Next to the Madman (7)
“What on earth is his identity?”
It was clear he was no ordinary person.
Ellie felt she wouldn’t even be surprised if Damian turned out to be the emperor of the empire. Of course, it was just a metaphor—after all, the real emperor wouldn’t be leisurely dawdling around like this.
He definitely had immense power, but in Ellie’s mind, a person of power was usually a politician or a president. She had spent most of her life in front of an oven, so her concept of power was narrow.
“Well, at least thanks to him, I got chocolate. I’ll be grateful for that.”
She didn’t know why Maurice had introduced Damian or what his intentions were.
But whatever the reason, Ellie was happy to have chocolate in hand. Ideas started to flow.
When it comes to pigs, you need to be able to imagine the best combination of ingredients. Simply eating them as they are is amateurish.
Food has pairings. Just as you pair chapati with scallion kimchi or choose side ingredients for each cup noodle brand to enhance flavor, adding small tips can enrich the taste.
In that sense, chocolate was a perfect ingredient.
Whether dark or milk chocolate, just a small piece melted in your mouth could bring joy to both body and mind. And it paired wonderfully with fruits, bread, rice cakes, cookies, milk, tea—anything.
“Chocolate cake, cookies, brownies… ah, I’ll need ice cream for this… but it’s too precious to use the ones I’ve already made.”
Ellie organized the menu and recipes on paper while trying to ignore the dozens of eyes silently watching her.
It was obvious at a glance that they were veteran chefs. Damian had called them “quiet, obedient workers,” but…
“Obedient? They’re glaring at me like ‘what the hell are you’…”
But what could she do? Orders were orders…
There was no time.
The menu Ellie presented was based on hundreds of practice runs, so creating something entirely new was difficult.
But Damian would want something new.
“At least it can’t be boring.”
A new texture, flavor, or form—she had to capture at least one of those.
“There are new ingredients and chocolate, so I think I can manage somehow… but I’m not sure.”
Damian was unpredictable. Usually, once you understood someone’s taste, you could roughly guess their reaction to a dish. Not him.
Ellie wanted to make chocolate bonbons with whiskey inside the shell, but she didn’t have the confidence to make them beautifully without practice.
To ensure a stable result, you needed an exact recipe.
“I wanted to show the ice cream later… what a waste.”
Maurice had perfectly prepared a dozen ovens modified by Edmund, mixers, various spatulas, piping bags, and other tools.
The work environment was almost identical to the kitchen of Rayard’s Mammoth.
If Ellie’s kitchen was optimized for baking and solo work, the Mammoth kitchen was optimized for pastries and group work.
Ellie tried to hide her tension behind a neutral face and spoke, using her core strength to project her voice.
“There are five items on the menu. I will demonstrate first, so please follow along. If you have questions, feel free to ask.”
“……”
No answer came. Damian had been half right—he was quiet and didn’t open his mouth.
If Edmund or someone similar were present, the response wouldn’t be a worry. At least when Ellie was in the kitchen, they would side with her.
“No, I can’t rely on anyone.”
Ellie began her work in silence.
The menu consisted of five items:
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Soft and sweet custard pudding.
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Pavé chocolate that melts the moment it enters your mouth.
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Mini chocolate muffins, bite-sized.
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Cup brownies topped with vanilla ice cream.
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Chocolate fondue for dipping fruits and long stick-shaped grissini.
Grissini had been part of the baking exam menu.
From the moment Ellie joined the oven, she had tested every recipe she knew, and grissini was one she had practiced often.
However, eating grissini alone was boring, and it wasn’t substantial enough for a meal, so it naturally fell out of the sales menu.
Shaping it to the right thickness and length was tricky, but Ellie trusted the professional chefs to follow along well.
The custard pudding was Ellie’s ace to impress Damian. Judging by his love of meringue cookies, he clearly preferred sweet items with fun textures.
“How lucky I got gelatin.”
While wheat was strangely overlooked, dairy and meat-based foods had advanced in various ways, gelatin included.
She didn’t know how it was discovered, but glue was widely used. There was also jelly made by boiling fruits with gelatin. She excluded it from the menu, not wanting Damian to complain about it being common or boring.
Ellie demonstrated each item meticulously.
Even if the recipe leaked, there was nothing she could do. Since it was a new menu for Cookie Walking, the next person to make it would just be copying… Damian would take care of it anyway.
“Any questions so far?”
“……”
No answer again.
“Good. Just make sure it turns out well…”
“What on earth is his identity?”
Chef Oliver couldn’t close his jaw.
When he entered the kitchen, he had been humiliated. Even if it was by a “high-ranking person,” to hand over his kitchen? Impossible.
To a head chef, the kitchen was their world, their battlefield, their life.
It was like telling him to hand over his country to the king. He raged.
“Then rebel!”
“Damn it, might as well have my whole family killed, just do it.”
“You know it well.”
The chef was like a king in his kitchen, but unfortunately, he wasn’t the real king.
They knew exactly who their true master was. The moment they rebelled, there would be no mercy.
He gritted his teeth, imagining taking revenge on the bastard who had seized the kitchen.
A vile bastard, only skilled at flattery, glossy on the outside, probably rubbing his hands together like a sycophant. Perhaps weak, never touched a knife properly.
But waiting in the kitchen was a chubby girl.
She wore a stylish chef uniform, but it was clearly a girl.
“Brought a girlfriend?!”
But even “girlfriend” didn’t feel right.
Her round face contrasted with her indifferent gaze. Her expression was blank, even sulky.
“Girlfriend? No? A female chef? What?”
Oliver wasn’t the only one flustered. Every chef under him was equally shocked.
They had orders never to reveal what they saw or heard.
But the flustered chefs ignored it, and the girl, scribbling on paper, began speaking words no one could understand.
“Time’s short, so I’ll skip introductions.”
No, that’s exactly what we need!
“There are five items on the menu, so divide into five teams. I’ll teach you each one.”
Teach us? You?
Oliver almost snorted, but fortunately, the girl didn’t hear. Reading their amused expressions, she looked up at them.
What could a girl do in the kitchen?
Don’t we already know everything you know?
Even without words, that message was clear.
She continued calmly, unfazed by their silent objections.
“I trust no one will half-listen and make me repeat myself.”
“……”
“You’ll do well, I’m sure, given your experience.”
The girl took a spatula.
The desserts she created were something Oliver and the others had never seen before.
“Revealing recipes like this?”
What if we leak them?
Of course, they couldn’t, since Damian was terrifying.
The fast-paced flow of recipes went in one ear and out the other. Oliver gaped at the completed items, understanding barely half. What was all this?
The girl smiled gently.
“Easy, right?”
