The biggest illusion in life is: I think I can do it!
This illusion has happened to you, it has happened to me, and it has happened to Kojirō Shinomiya.
Take this French vegetable terrine recipe, for example. Even if some students can recite it by heart and know the exact method, various issues still arise during the actual cooking process.
In Shinomiya's eyes, a recipe is a standardized process. The more complex the process, the greater the chance of deviation. To put it simply, even instant noodles prepared by two different people will taste slightly different.
Therefore, he always regarded recipes as supreme and wouldn't allow others to challenge or modify them.
...
Today, during this breakfast exam, Megumi's cooking hit Shinomiya with a powerful realization.
"Have you finally realized the problem with yourself?" A loud voice suddenly interrupted Shinomiya's thoughts, bringing him back to reality.
"You saw everything?" Shinomiya snorted coldly, asking calmly.
"I saw everything from the moment she presented that vegetable terrine," said a burly figure who appeared at the doorway. "I thought you would fail her out of sheer stubbornness."
"I did have that thought, but her cooking reminded me of something, so I changed my mind," Shinomiya admitted without pretense.
He recalled how Megumi reminded him of his younger self, cooking for others. Denying her was like denying his past self.
...
Despite Shinomiya's harsh personality and often irritating tone, his senior Gin Dojima knew that deep down, Shinomiya had a kind heart. He was a typical "tsundere"—tough on the outside, soft on the inside.
"It's been two years since you received the Prix Prosper Montagné, right?" Dojima asked. "Back then, the headmaster and I thought your SHINO'S restaurant would continue to impress WGO and earn three stars. But these past two years, your performance has been disappointing."
"I also heard that your sous-chefs, who fought alongside you, have left one by one. Can you tell me what happened to you over these two years?"
Dojima sighed internally as he looked at Shinomiya's deep gaze. Since Shinomiya's intolerance for mistakes and his near 50% failure rate yesterday, Dojima understood that Shinomiya had lost some warmth in his cooking.
"Hmph, a bunch of incompetent cooks. They just couldn't keep up with my pace," Shinomiya said, his voice rising. "The standardized processes and recipes I set are the best and most professional, but they... they just couldn't understand."
"It's their fault, not mine!" Shinomiya seemed agitated, losing his usual calmness.
...
Whether in chain restaurants or independent eateries, standardization drives growth and sustainability in the food industry.
To put it simply, a burger from any KFC in the country will taste the same because of product standardization. This ensures that every dish tastes the same, regardless of location or who prepares it.
After receiving his two-star rating and Prix Prosper Montagné, Shinomiya's ambition grew. He wanted to standardize all the dishes in his restaurant and expand his influence by opening chain stores across France.
His idea wasn't wrong. Standardizing recipes so that even inexperienced cooks can prepare stable dishes after brief training can save labor costs and increase efficiency.
For instance, a Chinese restaurant in Europe staffed by Japanese workers who don't speak English or Chinese can still make delicious Chinese dishes because of their standardized recipes.
However, creating a standardized system is easier said than done.
McDonald's measures each patty's thickness and weight down to decimal points. Haidilao Hot Pot precisely controls portions and temperatures. Even century-old restaurants like Gou Bu Li Baozi meticulously measure their fillings.
In short, making different chefs produce the same dish is challenging.
...
Tastes vary widely. Some may find a dish not spicy enough, while others find it not salty enough. It's hard to please everyone.
Even chefs have different preferences. Some like their dishes spicier, some like them more numbing, and others like them fresher.
Because of these differences, we can enjoy varied flavors at different restaurants.
In Dojima's view, the success of chains like McDonald's, Starbucks, and KFC isn't due to the intrinsic value of their food but their commercial value.
"There are no two identical leaves in the world, nor two identical fish," Dojima said. "Shinomiya, why cling to that standardized approach?"
Realizing the issue, Dojima sighed and continued, "Recipes that don't consider others' perspectives or needs will end up like mass-produced items—emotionless."
"I hope you understand this from that student's dish."
With that, Dojima patted Shinomiya's shoulder and left the kitchen.
Shinomiya listened to Dojima's words, slowly calming down. He looked at the unfinished vegetable terrine before him and fell into deep thought again.
...
At the headquarters of Totsuki Academy's Chinese Cuisine Research Society, the place resembled an ancient palace. The first thing one saw were two large red doors with a plaque above them bearing the words "Chinese Cuisine."
Inside, the spacious hall was lavishly decorated, with flowers hanging like bells and golden dragons on the eaves. It was a magnificent sight.
"S-senpai, what brings you to the Chinese Cuisine Research Society?" asked Terunori Kuga, the society's leader, nervously.
"Why? Can't I be here?" Rindo, seeing his timid expression, smiled mischievously.
"No, of course you can. It's an honor to have someone of your rank visit!" Kuga quickly replied.
"Enough with the flattery," Rindo said seriously. "I'm here to tell you that a wise man knows when to retreat."
"What do you mean?" Kuga asked, puzzled.
"Must I spell it out? You've been using various means to force new students to join your society. Everyone in the Elite Ten sees through your schemes."
"If you keep this up, infringing on the interests of other Elite Ten members, they'll unite against you," Rindo warned.
"So some Elite Ten members have issues with me?" Kuga quickly deduced. "It must be that four-eyed guy. He's always been after my eighth seat!"
He wanted to confront Eizan immediately.
"Don't jump to conclusions. My advice is to act wisely," Rindo said, seeing he understood.
"Of course, I'll heed your warning, senpai. I'll be more careful and avoid causing trouble," Kuga promised.
"Good. Take care," Rindo nodded, satisfied.
As she was about to leave, Kuga stopped her, "Senpai, since you're here, let me cook something for you."
"Sure, let's see what you've got," Rindo agreed, her interest piqued.
Kuga quickly headed to the kitchen to prepare.
...
Tofu is a remarkable invention. Derived products include tofu skin, fermented tofu, stinky tofu, dried tofu, and more.
Looking back, tofu production is a form of advanced food processing, highlighting the sophistication of ancient Chinese agricultural civilization.
In the early Han Dynasty, there were already tofu products. Legend has it that Prince Liu An, in pursuit of immortality, accidentally invented tofu while trying to create an elixir.
Today, there are thousands of tofu-based dishes. Among them, Mapo Tofu is perhaps the most famous.
...
Kuga began by cutting the tofu into 2 cm cubes. He blanched them with salt, ensuring the water was warm but not boiling.
Then, he minced beef and cut green onions into short segments. He finely chopped doubanjiang (fermented bean paste) and fermented black beans. Heating oil in a pan until it was 60% hot, he added the minced beef, cooking until the moisture evaporated and the meat turned crispy. He then added cooking wine, doubanjiang, chili powder, minced ginger, and fermented black beans, stirring until fragrant.
Next, he added broth, tofu, soy sauce, and salt, simmering gently to let the tofu absorb the flavors. Once the broth was reduced, he added green onions, thickening the sauce until it was glossy.
Finally, he served the dish in a bowl, sprinkling it with ground Sichuan peppercorns.
The aromatic Mapo Tofu, placed before Rindo, filled the hall with a tantalizing scent.
"Kuga, are you serious? It's so early, and you're serving something so spicy?" Rindo said, feeling exasperated.
Kuga scratched his head, embarrassed. "Senpai, you know I only cook spicy Chinese dishes."
Though spicy, the dish's presentation and aroma were mouth-watering. Rindo reluctantly agreed to try it.
Using chopsticks, she picked up a piece of tofu, ensuring it was coated in the spicy sauce. She carefully placed it in her mouth and chewed slowly.
First, she noticed the delicate texture, light as a cloud, and smooth as silk. Then, the spiciness from the chili and doubanjiang spread, stimulating her taste buds. The intensity made her nose tingle and she gasped for air.
This wasn't a simple spiciness but a rich, layered heat. After swallowing, a slight sweetness lingered, a result of the tofu blending with the spices.
Gradually, the spiciness subsided, and Rindo continued to eat.
----------
For 10 advance chapters: patreon.com/angelictranslating