Upstart Pastry Chef - Chapter 97

Chapter 97: The Party and Non-Negotiable Passions

Having obtained the cacao, I borrowed the kitchen and immediately set to work processing it into chocolate.

Three hours from now, I would be attending the party to introduce myself to influential nobles, so there wasn't a single moment to spare for idling around or taking a break.

Making chocolate from scratch—starting with cacao—normally takes at least two weeks, including the drying and aging periods.

The grueling labor of constantly stirring and kneading it for thirty hours straight is all part of that process.

Naturally, I didn't have time to make it the proper way.

However, using magic, I could complete it in a short period.

My 【Heal】 magic possesses the power of restoration. It can even perform tricks like accelerating the body's natural self-healing capacity.

In other words, I can use it to boost the activity of yeast and bacteria to promote fermentation, drastically speeding up the aging process.

Controlling the intensity is difficult, and speeding up the aging process without ruining the taste requires trial and error, which was why I hadn't attempted it last time.

This time, however, unlike before, I had enough cacao to allow for failure. I intended to use magic to finish the chocolate in a short time.

Right now, I was aging the seeds extracted from the cacao pods, which I had roasted in the oven.

I had been experimenting with magic-assisted aging, and I had already ruined three consecutive batches of cacao beans.

And then, on the fourth attempt...

"Finally, I've got the hang of it."

A light of mana welled up. In my hands was cacao that had completed a week's worth of aging in just thirty minutes.

Doing this was the only way to release that true chocolate-like aroma. Without aging, this aroma simply doesn't emerge.

After removing the seeds from raw cacao, roasting them, and taking off the shells and germ, they would normally be wrapped in banana leaves in the real world. This time, using Lalatta leaves as a substitute, I allowed them to age through fermentation driven by yeast and bacteria.

It turned out great. With this, I could make chocolate fit to offer to royalty.

Chocolate is a fermented food. Surprisingly few people realize that.

No matter how much cacao they might acquire, the main reason Duke Lenaril's chef couldn't make delicious sweets with it was because they didn't know this process. Without aging, neither the taste nor the scent of cacao becomes anything worthwhile.

Even on Earth, establishing such a complex and laborious process—roasting, shelling, de-germing, wrapping in banana leaves, and fermenting for over a week—took hundreds of years and tens of thousands of trial-and-error attempts. It would still be a long time before anyone in this world came up with such a method on their own.

Chocolate making is a form of art.

"Kurt, to think you'd work so hard starting not just from the sweets themselves, but from making the ingredients... That sounds so tough."

Chloe, the elf I had called to the kitchen, voiced her amazement.

"It happens all the time. Sometimes I even have to start by making the tools needed to make the tools for preparing the ingredients."

"Ugh, that sounds dizzying..."

Chloe made a disgusted face.

What was second nature to me seemed to be a shock to her.

When it comes to making the finest sweets, compromise is not an option. If necessary, I'll go that far without hesitation.

"Chloe, I need your help with this."

"I just need to ask the water inside this to come out, right?"

Normally, after aging, the cacao seeds are dried in the sun for about three days to drive off moisture.

The target is to get the moisture content down to around six percent.

If there's too much water, it rots; if there's too little, the flavor of the cacao flies away.

With the water magic of an elf, the moisture escaped from within the cacao.

I had asked Chloe to use her power slowly and carefully.

I closely monitored the state of the cacao.

"Chloe, that's enough."

"Got it."

Chloe's magic came to an end.

I placed one of the aged and dried cacao seeds into my mouth.

"As expected of you, Chloe. It turned out wonderfully."

"Elf magic is top-tier, after all!"

She gave me a firm thumbs-up.

With that, the three-day drying process was finished.

A week of aging and three days of sun-drying—a total of ten days' worth of work had been wrapped up in just over two hours. Magic really is convenient.

I placed the processed cacao seeds into a mortar and crushed them into powder with a pestle.

When you crush cacao seeds—which are packed with fats—the cacao fat, commonly known as cacao butter, seeps out and solidifies. So, I ground them into powder while removing the butter. How fine I could grind the powder here directly impacts the quality of the finished chocolate, so it required meticulous care. Applying too much heat causes the flavor to evaporate, so as I ground them, I had to pay close attention to avoid generating heat; brute force alone wouldn't do the job.

At times like this, I was glad to possess magic power.

Making chocolate in an era without machinery requires immense physical strength. Even strong, burly men are said to give up during this grinding process. By enhancing my physical capabilities with mana, I raised my muscular strength and gained the stamina to push through.

Alright, quality cacao mass and cacao butter are complete.

"Kurt-sama, it's almost time for the party. Please begin getting changed."

"Understood. I'll wrap things up here."

Tina came to call me.

Has it really been that long already?

I should pause the work here.

The next steps would involve adding sugar and a small amount of fresh cream, followed by the kneading phase, but that would require working through the night after the party ended.

This process, called conching, involves kneading while heating in a bain-marie and gradually adding cacao butter to smooth out the cacao particles.

This single operation makes a decisive difference in the chocolate's flavor and smoothness. In high-end shops, it can take over seventy hours—it is the very heart of chocolate making.

I would use magic to streamline this part as well. Since it couldn't be left to a machine and forgotten, I didn't have the luxury of spending seventy continuous hours doing it manually. I would cheat a little with magic.

Even so, magic-assisted shortcuts have their limits; it would still take until morning.

"Chocolate is delicious, but taking this much effort is its biggest drawback..."

Even while cheating with magic, it was still backbreaking labor.

Eventually, I'd like to teach others how to do it so we can mass-produce it, but that will be difficult.

Not only is it hard work, but every single step requires a knack for it. Judging the aging, ensuring proper drying, taking care even when grinding it into powder, and the upcoming conching and tempering will require years of training.

The terrifying thing about chocolate is that even a minor lapse in effort or a slight mistake in force will ruin the final result.

Even if I were to teach someone, it would take at least five years of training before they could make chocolate fit to be served at Arnoldt's shop.

First, I'll try teaching Mil, who is my right hand when it comes to making sweets.

...In her case, since she can't cheat with magic, making chocolate will take over two weeks, but that will be a good learning experience in itself.

◇

Having finished changing, I headed toward the party.

What I was wearing now was the outfit I had just received from Count Fernande.

The clothes prepared for me previously were tailored well enough for someone of a prospective Baronet's household, but their primary focus was ensuring that I—merely the future head of a quasi-noble Baronetcy—would not stand out more than the actual nobles of Baron rank or higher.

Today, however, was different.

Since I was to become a Baron, I needed attire worthy of a main guest who could stand proud as a true noble.

When Tina and Chloe saw me wearing it, they squealed that I looked like a prince.

In truth, even my own spine straightened naturally, and a sense of awareness as a noble welled up inside me. It was a fine suit of clothes.

As soon as I arrived at the party venue, I was summoned by Duke Lenaril and commanded to stay by her side for the day.

When she saw my appearance, she spoke up.

"It suits you very well. Having refined features allows you to wear such pretentious clothes so naturally."

"I am honored by your praise. Duke Lenaril, you are as beautiful as ever."

Duke Lenaril gave a wry smile.

"Save such flatteries. I am tired of hearing them."

"It's no flattery. I mean it from the bottom of my heart."

"Aren't you a smooth talker? As thanks, let me give you a piece of advice. You are the center of attention for every noble present in this room today. Do not forget that."

Told that, I looked around the surroundings.

The place where Duke Lenaril stood was elevated a step above the rest, offering a clear view of the entire party venue.

There were about three hundred people in total at the venue, with nearly a hundred being nobles.

Thinking that all of them were looking at me made things feel interesting.

As a pastry chef, being in the spotlight doesn't make me nervous. If anything, it gets me pumped up.

"Yes, I want them to know what kind of person I am."

"How surprising. You're quite composed. Very few people remain calm in a place like this. No wonder Count Fernande took such a liking to you. There's no way that man would be so attached to you simply because you're good at making sweets."

"You overestimate me."

"When you say that, it makes me feel as though you are saying I lack an eye for people. Humility requires picking the right time and place."

In a somewhat teasing tone, Duke Lenaril offered her warning.

She was certainly right.

I gave a light bow and decided to be more careful.

"Next Baronet of Arnoldt. There is a question I always ask in places like this. What kind of noble do you wish to become?"

That question cut straight to the core of who I am.

Therefore, I didn't want to use lies to gain favor, nor did I want to patch things over with evasions.

"I want to build a wealthy and happy territory where everyone can eat delicious sweets. And I want to be a lord strong enough to protect such a happy place and its people."

That had been my dream since childhood. On the day I was chosen as the next lord, I treated the territory's people to sweets and swore that very oath.

It is my root. That single wish is something I must never compromise on.

And I don't need anything more than that.

"How wonderful. So like you. It's precisely because you truly love sweets and lack wild ambition that you can create such marvelous confections. Steel yourself so that you may fulfill that dream."

"Of course."

Duke Lenaril nodded with satisfaction.

She then gave the opening address for the party, announcing that the main guest of the day was me, who was soon to become a Baron, and the party officially began.

Starting with the highest-ranking nobles, they came one by one to greet Duke Lenaril, and she introduced me on the spot.

They were all high-ranking aristocrats, people who could easily crush the Arnoldt territory if they felt like it. I couldn't afford to lower my guard.

Thanks to Duke Lenaril standing beside me, everyone maintained a friendly demeanor, which was a huge help.

...Though behind their smiles, I could glimpse jealousy, ridicule, or the desire to exploit me, I was grateful that none of it surfaced openly.

My habit of observing people subconsciously—a remnant of my days as a pastry chef at a high-end restaurant, where I would watch customers' faces to figure out what they wanted—was a bad trait of mine. There are more than a few things in this world that you're happier not noticing.

The one greeting me now was Count Cucala. He was a plump gentleman of an age where gray hair was starting to show.

His demeanor was elegant and fitting for a noble, but my intuition told me that his inside was quite rotten.

Smiling brightly, he spoke up.

"With this, Arnoldt also joins the ranks of true nobility."

"Yes, I will continue to devote myself even further."

"So young, yet so reliable. My daughter is getting married soon, you see. Could you make the cake to be served at the ceremony? I will prepare an ample reward. My daughter would be overjoyed to have the wedding cake by Arnoldt himself."

Generally, Dukes, Counts, Marquises, and Margraves are called high nobles.

Viscounts, Barons, and quasi-Counts are lower nobles.

And Baronets and Imperial Knights are called quasi-nobles.

There is a massive divide between lower nobles and high nobles. In other words, I could not refuse his request.

"Yes, gladly."

"How delightful. I shall look forward to it. I will send a letter later with the date and location."

Truth be told, I wanted to refuse.

This Count didn't actually want to eat delicious sweets, nor was he doing it because his daughter would be happy.

He simply wanted to use a cake made by Arnoldt—the man who satisfied the Four Great Dukes—to add prestige to the wedding. That was all.

When talking face-to-face, those intentions bleed through.

If someone wants to eat a delicious cake, I will gladly make it. But I have never liked people who use cake merely to show off. Back in my previous life, there were customers who bought cakes from famous stores just for the brand status without even understanding the taste, and he was no different.

...Let's pull myself together and do my best.

There are still many nobles left to greet. Hopefully, fewer of this type will show up.

After that, I frantically went through greetings and small talk until the line of nobles greeting Duke Lenaril finally cleared out.

"Next Baronet of Arnoldt. You didn't need to care about my pride, and you were free to decline such a tasteless offer, you know? I would have protected you from anyone saying absurd things in a place like this."

Duke Lenaril offered me kind words.

She was likely referring to the conversation with the Count earlier.

It seems she had seen right through my displeasure.

"I did feel uncomfortable, but this venue is meant to celebrate my becoming a Baron. When a festive occasion is brought up, I cannot refuse. ...Besides, regardless of their intentions, I will make a sweet that wakes them up. I'll make a cake so good that any other thought blows away. My cake won't end as a mere tool for prestige."

Truly delicious food moves people.

Even if their motive was nothing more than adding prestige, I would move everyone who ate it and send them off with the ultimate blessing.

That way, the cake I give will become a wedding cake in the true sense.

"Fufu, how interesting. Perhaps I should ask you for my own wedding as well."

"Do you have a partner in mind?"

For a Duke, marriage carries profound political significance.

I heard Duke Lenaril was seventeen. Her family status was the highest, and above all, she was exceptionally beautiful. There was no doubt the country viewed her as one of its key trump cards.

"None at all. Do you have any desire to put yourself forward?"

"Unfortunately, I already have a fiancée."

With my reputation rising, I had received numerous marriage proposals—not just at this event, but as early offers from those wanting to claim me early.

Thanks to Farne, however, I was able to turn them down smoothly without offending anyone.

Once they heard that Count Fernande's daughter had already reserved me, the other party would give up.

"I see. So you're taken. That man has an eye for talent as always—to have recognized your potential before anyone else. ...Ah, the music has changed. Would you grant me a dance? This song is my absolute favorite."

"Yes, with pleasure."

Taking her offered hand, we moved to the center of the hall.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone present, we danced.

Duke Lenaril's expression looked genuinely joyful. For the first time, she looked like a charming girl of her actual age.