It had been quite a long time since Johann-Gustav last visited this establishment.
He recalled that the last time he had come, it was still the cold season.
Before his spoiled niece’s wedding, he had taken her out to the city for one last memorable experience, and they had luckily stumbled upon this very place.
“Johann-Gustav, is this the place?”
“Yes, Uncle. It has quite an intriguing storefront, doesn’t it?”
Tonight, Johann-Gustav had company again.
This person was a bit difficult, though not as much as the niece he had brought last time.
Johann-Gustav had no idea what his uncle, still spry even with his silver hair, would eat at a tavern.
The early summer sun, even at dusk, was enough to make one’s forehead bead with sweat.
On a day like this, he thought it would be interesting to have that drink at this shop to cool off, so he brought his uncle along.
“Excuse me.”
“Welcome!”
“…Welcome.”
When he slid open the glass door, a spirited voice and a wave of cool air flowed out from inside the shop. It was warm inside when he had visited during winter, so he wondered if they had some sort of special system.
“It’s quite empty today, isn’t it?”
While recommending a seat at the counter to his uncle, Johann-Gustav asked the server. He had thought that such a well-regarded establishment would be more crowded, but for today, he was grateful for this good fortune.
“Everyone in the city is on edge before the conference the day after tomorrow.”
“Ah.”
He understood when he heard it was about the conference.
In two days, a small conference would be held in the old capital.
Representatives from three territories, who no longer bothered to hide their intention to secede from the Empire, would be met by the Imperial side.
Although there had been an incident just before, with the dismissal of Backeshoff, the chairman of the Old Capital’s council, the conference was successfully organized thanks to the efforts of the other council members.
Johann-Gustav had heard that the Empire’s policy was to prevent secession, but the three territories on the other side seemed to look down on the Empire, calling it an old pig, and most people predicted that the conference would be difficult.
“That must be a disaster for taverns.”
“Not necessarily. It would be troublesome if slow days continued, but when people come on days like this, we can provide more attentive service to our customers.”
Smiling, the server placed down the otōshi.
Inside the small bowl was what appeared to be a fish dish.
“Ho, is this herring?”
His uncle peered curiously into the small bowl and asked.
“No, it is not herring. This is nanbanzuke of small horse mackerel.”
Translator’s Note
Nanbanzuke (南蛮漬け) is a fish that’s fried and then marinated in a sweet and sour sauce.
“Nanbanzuke, that’s a dish I haven’t heard of.”
“Small horse mackerel is fried and then marinated in a sweet and sour sauce. We sometimes serve it freshly fried, but when it gets hot, we serve it after it has been marinated for a while.”
“I see.”
His interest piqued, the uncle used a fork to bring the small horse mackerel to his mouth. Johann-Gustav followed suit.
Although it was sour, it was not an unpleasant sourness at all.
A refreshing sweet-and-sour taste, a slight spiciness, and the flavor of the fish spread in his mouth. This was delicious. Johann-Gustav, as a nobleman, had eaten many dishes prepared by skilled chefs, but only a few from the Eastern Kingdom could create such a delicate flavor.
“This is delicious, Johann-Gustav.”
“Yes, Uncle. This sourness is wonderful. It seems like something I could eat even in summer when my appetite is low.”
“Indeed. But, I believe what really enhances this sourness is the hidden spiciness.”
The uncle picked up a small red ring that was hiding in the small bowl with his fork. Certainly, it looked very spicy.
“That’s correct. That is a spice called taka no tsume, and its spiciness sharpens the flavor of the dish.”
Translator’s Note
Taka no Tsume (鷹の爪) literally translates to “hawk’s claw” or “eagle’s talon”. It’s type of Japanese chili pepper.
The server’s explanation caused the uncle and Johann-Gustav to exchange glances.
“Taka no tsume, is it? That’s a fitting spice for you, Uncle.”
“Exactly, Johann-Gustav. This might be a good omen.”
The server, not understanding what they were talking about, just smiled. The uncle cleared his throat.
“By the way, young lady. I apologize, but in my, no, my opinion, this nanbanzuke would go very well with alcohol.”
“Yes! What would you like?”
“Ale, would that be right, Johann-Gustav?”
“When I came before, it was served under the name ‘Toriaezu Nama’.”
When he mentioned that name, the server, the owner, and even the girl washing dishes all looked apologetic.
“I’m sorry, sir. We are not serving Toriaezu Nama at the moment.”
The owner bowed his head, but this uncle would not back down so easily.
“That is a problem. One of the reasons I came to this shop tonight was to drink this Toriaezu Nama. I would like to make a special request.”
“I have heard about the Backeshoff turmoil. If you have it in stock, could you serve it to my uncle?”
The server and the owner exchanged glances and nodded to each other. This was what it meant to be in sync. The server immediately disappeared behind the counter.
“Today, as a special exception…”
The brought mugs were filled to the brim with a golden liquid. The uncle’s eyes, observing the fine foam, were sharp. After observing it for a while, the uncle rubbed his palms together and faced the mug.
“Well then, if you’ll excuse me.”
The uncle’s throat made a sound as the gold in the mug flowed smoothly down into his stomach. It was hard to believe that this was the drinking style of a seventy-eight-year-old man. Johann-Gustav followed. He hadn’t been able to fully savor it last time because he was with Hildegard, but drinking it again, he was overwhelmed by its deliciousness.
With a clunk, the uncle placed down the empty mug and suddenly burst into laughter. He had never been one to laugh much since he was young. Now, he was letting out what could be called a guffaw.
“Johann-Gustav! This is a masterpiece! This is truly a masterpiece!”
“What do you mean?”
“You said someone mistook this for lager, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I heard that from Baron Branton.”
Baron Branton, who owned land near the old capital, was somehow fixated on this issue and had appealed to the Imperial Diet to revoke the decree banning the distribution of lager on schedule. It was hard to believe that such a proud man would go to such lengths for a single tavern, but since the reason was unknown, it became a topic of conversation in social circles for a while.
“I don’t know if the person who made the mistake has ever drunk lager, but this is not ‘the lager whose trade is prohibited by law.’ I will testify to that.”
“Then, is it ale?”
“No. It is probably lager. But the taste is different from what is made in the Imperial Capital’s brewery. That one has more depth, but this one has a better sharpness.”
“I see.”
“If lager made in a different place already exists, that decree is meaningless. The <pretentious> Branton sometimes says meaningful things.”
In high spirits, the uncle ordered another drink. He also ordered a refill of the otōshi.
This nanbanzuke went well with lager.
Johann-Gustav decided to remember its appearance and taste as much as possible so that he could have it made at home.
“So, sir, what would you like to order for your meal?”
“Let’s see. Well, I’ll have fish. I want the most delicious one you have.”