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Pasta is simply noodles. It falls under the category of staple foods.

This means that it’s not much different from the bread and rice that people commonly consume.

In fact, it had its own advantages in terms of production difficulty compared to other staple foods.

Making the dough by mixing the ingredients in the right proportions is straightforward. Even using dried pasta makes the manufacturing process much simpler than bread or rice, unless we’re talking about modern conveniences like ready-to-eat meals.

However, there are challenges when making fresh pasta instead of dried.

You have to roll the dough as thin and flat as possible.

If you lack strength, you’ll tire out before you finish making it.

There are even specialized tools called pasta rollers for this purpose.

Of course, Karem didn’t need any fancy tools like a pasta roller.

Whether it’s a magic tool or a manual device, considering he’s a duke, he probably had something.

Surely, if he looked around, he would find one, or he could always just make one, but he had Mary with him.

And Mary was strong.

The chefs at Afterglow Fortress were strong, too.

“Hmm! The dough is sturdier than I thought, Chief. Is this truly the correct way to do it?”

“Yes, that’s right, but I told you to call me Head Chef, not Chief! Are you so dizzy from rolling that you’ve lost your mind?”

“What’s the difference when it’s still in my head?”

Under the command of Borgo, one of the few chefs with experience in making pasta, the Viking-like cooks were absorbed in rolling the dough.

With each roll, the chefs’ biceps bulged and veins popped out.

And then there was another experienced one.

Karem was busy slicing brisket while watching them.

Specifically, he was watching the countless batches of pasta dough waiting to be made.

“Isn’t the amount too much even for a taste test?”

“Huh? Is this all you think it is?”

“Seriously? This is what you call a taste test?”

Karem looked at the mound of spaghetti that had already been sliced, piled high before the cooks.

Those waiting to be boiled resembled noodles at first glance.

“No matter how you look at it, this isn’t a taste test—it’s a full meal. Plus, combined with what’s being made now, the quantity is more than double, right?”

“Hahaha, looks like the little chef here is overlooking something.”

Borgo clapped his hands, signaling the chefs that it was enough and chuckled.

“Flour, and pasta—do you know how quickly it disappears?”

For the people of Iceland, a meal needs to have hearty meat that can fall heavily into the stomach to be satisfying.

Let alone the chefs, who suffer from labor-intensive work.

That’s why, for health reasons, a filling and greasy dish is essential before cooking.

“In that sense, pasta fails as a staple.”

“Is it because flour disappears quickly in the stomach?”

“You know? Bread disappears quickly too, but for some reason, pasta seems to disappear even faster, despite being the same flour.”

“Can’t deny that…”

As the rolled dough was cut, the hill of spaghetti continued to pile up higher, leaving Karem flabbergasted. “Is there really going to be this much?”

Alicia was inhaling the food on the table.

Mary was endlessly gulping down dessert and milk.

It suddenly seemed to Karem that the sturdy cooks, who looked like they could eat far more than those two, would find a single bowl of pasta barely enough to fill their appetites.

“What I’m most worried about is rather that.”

“Me? You mean me?”

“That’s right.”

Borgo waved his hands around the cutting board.

To Karem’s right were mounds of brisket and shank, while on the opposite side stacked high were briskets just waiting to be prepared.

“You only need that much brisket for the stew, right?”

“Uh, did I perhaps forget to mention that?”

Although there was no direct answer, Karem realized with a start that Borgo looked puzzled.

Did he truly keep that thought to himself?

“See? The tough brisket becomes quite edible when sliced thinly, right?”

“It definitely felt like the mind was clearing up. If you slice it thin, you won’t need to simmer it for long. Even if it’s tough, thin slices make it easier to eat.”

“And what would happen if you grilled it?”

At those words, Borgo froze.

His thick eyebrows arched like hooks.

“That thing.”

A red stream crossing over the white expanse.

What would happen if that stream landed on a hot iron plate?

“Grill it—huh.”

It was obvious what would happen.

Meat shrinks when grilled and lets out fat.

Accordingly, it would reduce to two-thirds of its size now.

The released fat would fry the meat as if it were being deep-fried.

However, no matter how Borgo thought about it, he struggled to imagine that taste.

After all, with so much food around, there was no reason to eat chewy meat.

But now there was a reason.

“So then, Duke Karem, why are you just standing there working?”

“Huh? What kind of absurd—”

“Oh, did you get too high an appraisal for your age? Hey!”

Before Karem could protest, Borgo bellowed loudly.

The goblin-like chefs, who looked like they could take down a monster with their bare hands, all turned their heads.

Pointing to a few among them, Borgo said, “You, you, you, and you. You’re done with the spaghetti, right? Come over here.”

“Chief, what is it? Do you have more orders?”

“Yes. Prepare this brisket just like Karem did.”

“…All of this?”

Dozens of briskets piled high, completely obstructing one side of the table, contrasted sharply with a single thin slice of brisket.

The four chefs stared at the slice, as if it might burst under their gaze.

All that? They had to slice it that thin? Sure, they could do it, but really? Only then did the chefs realize why their chief had called them.

Because among the kitchen staff, he was the one who wielded the knife the best.

Karem followed Borgo silently, feeling a bit sour as he watched them pulling their hair out.

“Can I leave them here like this with just that one slice left?”

“It feels like I’d need an axe instead of a chef’s knife, but among my subordinates, there’s no one better with a knife. Trust me.”

“No.”

The way he spoke sounded as if he were commanding the organization’s blade handlers.

However, it seemed Borgo’s words weren’t empty promises, as the grumbling chefs quickly began to prepare the briskets faster and more skillfully than Karem could manage. Moreover, they sliced them even thinner.

…Well, isn’t it basically the same as bossing Mary around?

“You don’t need to worry, Duke Karem. Instead… hmm. Wait a moment… hmm…”

Returning to the central kitchen with a cast-iron pan, Borgo scrunched his brow and lips into a fine point.

“Well, we’ll just call it back brisket.”

“…So that leftover chunk is front brisket, right?”

“That’s easier to call it that way.”

In an instant, Borgo localized the names of the two parts, and as he placed the cast-iron pan on the griddle, Karem slyly stepped in front.

“I’ll grill this.”

Since he was the one who mentioned it, Borgo figured he would know how to grill it and stepped back from the grill without hesitation.

There was no more time to hesitate. He picked up the steak fork that had been resting on the grill and stabbed the edge of a slice of brisket.

“Huh? Isn’t this a bit too little?”

“Just one piece for now. To taste it first.”

“Hmm.”

Ssss—

As soon as it touched the pan, white steam erupted violently.

And with each blink, the white brisket began to release its fat and coat the hot iron pan like melting icicles in spring.

Sssss—

Another slice of brisket followed suit.

This time, Karem set his own portion down, flipping the first slice, which had turned pink.

“Ohhh.”

Borgo’s eyes sparkled below his caterpillar-like brows.

Though he had already anticipated this, it exceeded his expectations.

The brisket was cooking as if it were being fried in its own fat.

Even though it was the first time, Borgo could tell it had been perfectly cooked in a short time.

The brisket displayed a gray surface with a hint of pink that had a beautiful browning crust, resembling a medium steak with a tender interior and crispy exterior.

But before Borgo could savor it a bit more, Karem lightly sprinkled salt.

The salt quickly melted into the hot fat, seeping between the meat’s fibers.

Karem, having brought a fork from behind, offered a piece of brisket to Borgo.

The glistening fat reflected the grill’s flame as it dripped from the edge like icicles melting in early spring.

“This should be enough, right?”

Borgo silently took the fork that Karem offered.

And quickly brought it to his mouth.

In his haste, he got fat all over his beard.

But Borgo had no time to wipe it off.

His mind was fully focused on the myriad sensations tingling on his tongue.

The rich, flavorful brisket soaked with fat presented an intense taste that overwhelmed Borgo’s tongue.

Though it was a small piece, the moment it touched his tongue, the nutty and addictive flavor spread across it, as if trying to unleash all the frustrations of history that had been neglected for so long.

And with the aroma of beef filling his nostrils, Borgo’s teeth instinctively moved like a wolf seizing its prey.

It was tough, yet soft and crispy.

The three contrasting sensations, so opposed they couldn’t coexist, each emphasized themselves differently on his teeth.

Thanks to being sliced thin and quickly grilled, the brisket tore apart the moment it came into contact with his teeth, like autumn leaves falling.

Despite that, the remaining tough fibers were thin enough to still give a satisfying chew, revealing a new texture.

Crisp, sizzle. Crunch, crack.

The crispy, thin slice of meat crackled as it bounced against his ears, faintly echoing in his brain.

The fat clinging to the meat hardly had any discernible texture.

Yet, the soft and tender sensation faintly mingled with the meat.

In that moment, Borgo reflected once more on why the people of Seophone obsessed over grilled meat.

And when he came to himself, a rich aftertaste remained in his mouth.

“Hah, hahah. That was just the toughest part of the brisket, and even then, so thin—this is what I get? Ha!”

Borgo couldn’t contain his laughter, a mix of joy and amazement at discovering something new.

Karem felt the same way.

Filled with a deep aftertaste and delight, he marveled.

“…Heh.”

Even though the soybean paste stew had failed, he felt joy in having at least one success.

The taste was not so different from his past life.

No, in fact, in some aspects, it was even better than what he had eaten before.

Rich meaty aroma and nuttiness.

Even though it was thin, it was juicy, and the flavor experienced while chewing was more intense.

And the clean, rich flavor of the beef fat that never grew tiresome.

However, it wasn’t without its flaws.

For one, compared to Hanwoo, the fat content was indeed lacking.

That much was to be expected—despite being in a cold place where fat was supposed to be abundant, how could it compare to cattle fed intentionally to gain weight with grains meant for humans?

And another downside was….

“Hah, it’s all good, but it’s just too thin and little; it’s frustrating.”

“The solution is simple: grill a bunch and eat it all at once, right?”

“Why even say that?”

It could be solved quickly.

 

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