Ignaz and Kamil visited Izakaya Nobu around lunchtime the next day.
The noren wasn’t out, but it seemed they were serving lunch to regulars inside. Two or three customers were enjoying their meals with gusto. Ignaz had expected Gernot to be there, but he was nowhere to be seen.
They had visited twice before, but it was still a strange establishment. This shop, brimming with exotic atmosphere, might hold a clue to a new way of selling rice.
“Welcome, I’ve heard about you from Gernot-san.”
Besides Shinobu, the waitress, there was another waitress and an additional cook. Eva, the waitress who used to run around the shop adorably, wasn’t there at this hour.
“We’re trying to figure out how to use this Sasarica rice.”
The bag they handed over contained polished Sasarica rice.
Compared to the Comune rice commonly eaten in the Holy Kingdom, the grains were shorter, and when cooked, it had a slightly sticky texture.
“Sasarica rice, is it?”
Shinobu took a handful of the Sasarica rice from the heavy bag, sniffed it briefly, and then handed it to Taisho.
“It doesn’t have the fragrance of Thai rice… It seems closer to Japanese rice, actually.”
As he spoke, Taisho immediately began measuring the contents of the bag and washing it with water. His movements were practiced, as if he had repeated them tens of thousands of times.
The other cook watched intently as he washed the rice with quick, crisp motions.
“So, Taisho, what are you going to do with this rice?”
Shinobu, who had been checking the texture of the Sasarica rice, asked Taisho.
“Gernot-san said it’s a large quantity, so I think it’s difficult for us to handle it alone. What do you think, Shinobu-chan?”
“Even if we create a small boom like we did with the eel bento, it’s impossible for our shop to use up a whole warehouse full of rice.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that.”
Only the sound of rice being washed, sharishari, echoed through the shop.
A well-dressed man, apparently a regular, was eating tempura and watching the scene with interest. Unable to contain himself any longer, he finally interjected.
“Shinobu-san, what are you talking about?”
“Ignaz-san and Kamil-san from Eisenschmidt Trading Company apparently bought too much rice. A whole warehouse full. Arnoux-san, do you have any good ideas?”
“Rice, you say… Indeed, it’s not commonly eaten around here.”
The staple food in the old capital was, without a doubt, bread or barley porridge. There was no custom of eating rice.
“So, they’re wondering if our shop has any solutions.”
“That’s a tough problem. I don’t know much about it, but does rice keep well?”
“Once it’s threshed and in this state, it needs to be eaten relatively quickly, but if it’s left as brown rice, it lasts quite a long time.”
“I see.”
The customer, Arnoux, said this and folded his arms, but Ignaz didn’t hold out much hope. What kind of wisdom could a playboy-like man possibly offer?
Perhaps this wasn’t the time or place for this.
It was the time of year when food shortages were common in winter. If they bowed their heads and asked a few contacts, they might be able to offload some of it. It wouldn’t be too late to start with that.
Taisho, having finished washing the Sasarica rice, deftly chopped vegetables and chicken into bite-sized pieces.
“Are you making takikomi gohan?”
Translator’s Note
Takikomi Gohan is a Japanese mixed rice dish where rice is cooked with vegetables, meat, and/or seafood, and seasoned with dashi and soy sauce.
“As expected of Shinobu-chan. I thought it would be easier for people who aren’t used to eating rice to enjoy if it has flavor.”
“What about fried rice or pilaf?”
“I think takikomi gohan would suit Sasarica rice better. Fried rice and pilaf require high heat.”
The mention of “high heat” finally gave Ignaz a vague idea of what Taisho was thinking.
After making rice dishes popular at Izakaya Nobu, they would have people make them at home.
That way, they could use more rice than Nobu alone could, and people who couldn’t come to the shop could also enjoy it.
“Well, until the Sasarica takikomi gohan is ready, how about you try some of our shop’s rice dishes? Hans, bring it over.”
The other cook, a young-looking man, replied with a hearty “Yes!” and brought plates to Ignaz and Kamil. Taisho explained.
“These are yaki onigiri.”
They were rice balls coated with a sauce and grilled. The savory aroma was irresistible. Taking a bite, the outside was crispy, while the inside crumbled softly. It was delicious.
The rich seasoning was also perfect. It was the kind of flavor that would be welcome after a night of drinking, a satisfying dish to fill the stomach.
But.
He looked next to him, and Kamil seemed to have noticed the same thing.
“Taisho, about this yaki onigiri…”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, it’s very delicious. But how do you make this sauce?”
“…Ah.”
They had eaten kaisendon at this shop before, and they had poured a seasoning called shoyu all over it. They liked it so much that they had tried everything to find it, but no such seasoning existed in the Empire.
“If you’re using shoyu in the takikomi gohan, I think it will be difficult for ordinary households to make it.”
Sighs and murmurs of contemplation filled the shop.
They didn’t know if it was a secret recipe or something they sourced from somewhere else. But if it was a seasoning that only Nobu could use, they couldn’t have them use it for this Sasarica rice.
No matter how delicious it was.
“It might be a little difficult for people who aren’t familiar with plain rice.”
Shinobu nodded at Taisho’s murmur.
“What about making them into onigiri with fillings?”
“…I wonder if people who eat onigiri at our shop and think it’s delicious will make onigiri at home? Even though it’s just boiling and shaping.”
“Isn’t that the same for yaki onigiri?”
“I only made this to have Ignaz-san and Kamil-san try the rice… But, this is a problem…”
From there, it became a free-for-all of ideas.
Arnu’s companion, a man named Isaac, suggested using Borganga fish sauce, fizoza, instead of shoyu, but the waitress, Leontaine, shook her head.
Borganga fish sauce, made from small fish commonly caught in the old capital, had a similar saltiness to shoyu, but it had a strong, distinctive smell. There was a way to eliminate the odor with ginger, inga, but she felt it had too many drawbacks for cooking with Sasarica rice.
“If Leontaine-san says so, it might indeed be difficult.”
Shinobu also put her hand on her chin and fell silent.
Various other opinions came and went, came and went, while time cruelly passed.
Arnu whispered something to Isaac, but Isaac shook his head.
If it weren’t for the good aroma rising from the pot, the pressure might have made someone scream.
Just as the sunlight filtering through the glass door was changing from noon to evening, someone knocked on Izakaya Nobu’s door.
“I’m sorry, we’re not open yet today.”
“Shinobu-san, it’s me. Tax Collector Gernot.”
Gernot, who entered, acted as if he were calm as usual, but he must have known something. His face was slightly sweaty.
Ignaz was about to stand up to explain what had happened so far, but Gernot respectfully bowed to Arnoux.
“May I assume that Marquis Sachsenburg is in good spirits?”
At the unfamiliar word “Marquis,” Ignaz couldn’t help but stare at Arnoux’s face. Come to think of it, there had been a lot of talk about the change of leadership in Sachsenburg before the New Year.
He had heard that the new lord was young, but he never imagined he was this young.
“That’s fine. At Izakaya Nobu, I’m just Arnoux, the playboy. So, you were looking for me? What is it?”
“Yes. Actually, there’s something I need your approval for.”
He took out a parchment from his pocket and handed it to Arnoux. It was the high-quality kind used for administrative documents.
A smile appeared on Arnoux’s lips as he glanced at the document, and it gradually grew larger.
“I see, you’ve come up with something interesting.”
Arnoux passed the parchment to Isaac, and this time Isaac became increasingly displeased. Wondering what was written on it, Ignaz was startled when Isaac threw the parchment to Kamil.
“Um, let’s see… ‘Memorandum regarding the purchase of emergency relief food supplies from Eisenschmidt Trading Company by the Marquis Sachsenburg household’? Wait a minute, what is this?”
Ignaz snatched the document from the flustered Kamil and read through it.
It stated that the Margrave Sachsenburg household would purchase the Sasarica rice at an appropriate price. Of course, no one had signed it yet.
Arnoux, with an expression that said he couldn’t contain his amusement, questioned Gernot.
“You acted on your own, Gernot-san.”
“I created this after discussing it with the president of Eisenschmidt Trading Company and the steward of the Marquis’ household. I don’t think there’s anything strange about the content.”
“It’s true that the Marquis’ household wanted to purchase inexpensive, storable food for poverty relief. How did you find that out?”
“As a tax collector, I keep an eye on the price movements of grain in the vicinity. I’m afraid to say that it seems that you released a lot of your reserves during the crop failure two years ago, so I assumed that you didn’t have much grain left.”
Rice met the condition of being storable.
It was also perfect in terms of being cheap. After all, they had purchased it at a third of the usual market price. If the Margrave’s household bought it, they could sell it at a considerably lower price.
“That’s how it is. Isaac, what do you think?”
“As I said earlier, I’m against it.”
It seemed that Arnoux had been thinking exactly the same thing. As expected of a Marquis, but why was he opposed?
“Storage space?”
“Yes. The only place the Marquis’ household can store a grain quantity that fills the company’s warehouse is the tax storage warehouse. But that place…”
“The rule is that only wheat can be stored there.”
Nobles were surprisingly attached to tradition. He had heard somewhere that only one type of crop could be stored in a warehouse.
“I have an idea about that too.”
Gernot took out another piece of parchment from his pocket.
“I see, you’re going to use that place.”
“That place?”
Isaac, who had peered at the parchment, answered Kamil’s impatient question.
“If you’re from Eisenschmidt Trading Company, you might know the name, but there was a petty crook named Damian who caused a lot of trouble in the old capital a while ago. He was hired by the Backeshoff Trading Company at one point, and he bought a small mansion in the suburbs as a base of operations.”
“And now, our Marquis Sachsenburg household is managing it.”
Arnoux laughed and patted Gernot on the shoulder several times. “Well done. That’s a good idea. I went to see it once, and it’s certainly larger than an average warehouse, and it’s close to the old capital. It’s perfect as a grain warehouse.”
“Thank you very much.”
“And Gernot-san. If Nobu had created an innovative new dish and a solution was in sight, what would you have done then?”
To the mischievous question, Gernot bowed deeply and answered.
“In that case, I would have enjoyed the meal and kept the parchment in my pocket. Either way, as long as we can collect taxes, there’s no problem.”
Laughter filled Izakaya Nobu, and Shinobu called out to everyone.
“Well, the takikomi gohan is ready!”
As everyone peered over the counter, the lid of the pot was removed, and a soft, gentle aroma rose with the steam. His stomach, which had only eaten one yaki onigiri since noon, growled with hunger.
Hans ladled it into bowls, and Leontaine efficiently served them.
He scooped it up with a wooden spoon and took a bite.
The flavor had soaked in. It was completely different from rice that had just been boiled.
The chopped ingredients acted as a side dish, and the contents of the bowl functioned as a single feast.
No matter where you ate from or how much you ate, it was delicious.
One bite, another bite, and before he knew it, he had finished the first bowl.
“Brother-in-law, this is delicious.”
“I could eat this every day…”
When he said that to Kamil, Gernot, who had ordered only Napolitan for himself, chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, there’s enough to eat every day.”
Arnoux and Isaac were already on their second bowls when, drawn by the wafting aroma, a new customer opened the glass door and entered.
“Welcome!”
“…Welcome.”
“Today’s recommendation is takikomi gohan.”
Watching the delicious expressions of the customers savoring the takikomi gohan, Ignaz and Kamil slapped each other on the shoulder.