The captain nods excitedly as he keeps staring at the heavenly aroma emitting round thing in front of him, slightly frowning as he has no idea how to eat it. I nod to Al and we both dig a slice of the precut pizza with our hands, the fake mozzarella creating stretching lines of melted cheese connecting the slice with the rest of the pizza, before eagerly biting into it. Enlightened by our actions, the captain deftly grabs a slice as well and bites into it tentatively. For a moment I swear that I saw stars blinking in his bulging eyes before he closes them, chewing slowly to savor the taste. As the slice disappears from his hand, he turns to me stupefied and flabbergasted.
"This... this is incredible. I have traveled the sea for fifty years and visited more than thirty nations, but I have never tasted something so... so... shit, I can't even describe it. This is the best meal I ever had!"
Entranced, he hastily grabs another slice, raising it high above his head and deftly wrapping the filaments of melting cheese with his tongue before biting on the pizza. Ha! It is only the second slice, yet he already eats it like a pro!
slice after slice, the pizzas finally disappear and the captain finally relaxes, sighing happily.
"My good sir, did you say that you taught my cook how to make this... pizza?"
I nod, smiling contentedly as I pat my slightly bulging stomach.
"Indeed, captain, though if you are thinking of feeding the crew as well, you might have to procure a few more pans for him to keep up."
The captain laughs, a braying sound that reverberates into the cabin.
"My dear man, if my men get to enjoy such lavish food, I don't mind rebuilding the whole galley, much less buying a few pans."
I smile at him but stay silent. teaching him to make pizza in a pan is one thing, but telling him to build an oven and teach him how to make real pizza is a no-no. I see no reason to enlighten a possible competitor after all. When the cook comes by with our coffee, the captain instructs him to make a list of the needed ingredients and accessories to make it easy for him to cook pizza for the whole crew. As the cook leaves the cabin elated, we excuse ourselves and head on the deck for a breath of fresh air to aid our digestion. As we stroll on the deck, mindful of not obstructing the crew at work, we chat idly.
"Mr. Paul, it is really all right to teach them how to make pizza? This is something unique after all..."
I grin as I reply.
"No worries, Al. First of all, pizza in a pan cannot compare to the real pizza! The dough, the tools, and the condiments are different. Well, not the condiments, after all, there are hundreds of possible combinations, and the one I used is the most basic. Secondly, real pizza is made in an oven. Thirdly, as long as he can eat it as often as he likes, I doubt the dear captain will think even for a second to drop sailing in favor of opening a restaurant. Fifty years at sea are not forgotten that easily. The risk is minimal, and besides, anybody might figure out how to make one after seeing it and tasting it, but to make a decent one? That is difficult!"
Al nods at my words, but he doesn't know that there is an underlying reason for my confidence. Simply put, people in this world have trouble doing something as simple as boiling an egg, so expecting them to make pizza.... would be like taking a sixteen-year-old in my world, who has never cooked and is used to eating only fast food, and asking him to replicate a recipe of a five-star chef. Nuh-uh, not going to happen! I continue talking to Al,
"When we arrive at our destination, we will spend a few days getting familiar with the city and the market, then we will start looking for a building to buy. It would be better if it is already configured as a tavern, but worst case, we should have enough funds for the acquisition, renovation, and the first two to three months of expenses. After that, though, we will be out of funds and we will have to depend on the restaurant's income to live.
Al frowns at my words,
"Isn't this too risky? If the restaurant does not work out, what will we do?"
I pat his shoulder,
"Al, tell me honestly, now that you have eaten pizza, what would you do if you knew that you would never eat it ever again?"
Al freezes before slowly replying,
"I... I would probably freak out, sir."
I grin at him,
"Right? And if I am not mistaken, you were caught the moment you smelled its aroma, even before you had the chance to taste it."
"That... is true."
"So, do you still think there is a chance that a restaurant will not make us any money?"
Al grins back at me as he replies,
"None, sir."
We look at each other, grinning like fools before we explode in laughter, causing the members of the crew on deck to look at us curiously.
As we keep chatting, Al asks me full of curiosity,
"Mr. Paul, did you say that there are hundreds of variations for pizza?"
Ah, he caught that...
"Indeed, Al, pizza is a food that permits you to use everything edible to create new variations, Though we will have to spend time making some ingredients ourselves for our pizzas to become the best it can be."
Indeed, ham, salami, pepperoni, and bacon, are unknown in this world. More importantly, while I will have to ask around, I doubt this world has mozzarella. Sure, the fake mozzarella cheese I used in the pizza is good, but it is too salty and forced me to adjust the seasoning to balance it out. Fortunately, making mozzarella is not that hard, only time-consuming, as long as this world has cows, that is, something of which I am still unsure. Still, I will check the market at our destination first, before deciding on what to "invent"...