The Proliferating Stew
By the time they finished the entire harvest—
“…….”
“Alright. Now let’s go wash them.”
“Um, Teacher, this is a bit…”
“We don’t have time.”
Ji-oh and Iser carried the harvested crops down to the stream.
“Convenient, isn’t it? Having a stream right in front of the house.”
“Ah… this is freshwater, I take it?”
“There’s no way seawater would be flowing in the middle of a forest like this.”
“Well, that’s true, but… it feels like common sense barely applies here.”
“This much is perfectly sensible.”
They rinsed the soil and dust from the vegetables. A full basket of tomatoes for the main ingredient, of course, plus six firm onions, six potatoes, six sweet potatoes, one whole cabbage, ten pea pods, one small pumpkin, and three carrots.
“…….”
“…….”
Lined up together, the plump specimens formed a small hill.
“…Did we overdo it a little?”
“I was trying to tell you this was a bit much.”
“You were enjoying yourself too.”
“W-well… that’s true.”
Nostalgia had carried Iser along; only after quite some time did he realize the situation had gotten strange. By then the hill was already nearly complete. It was far too late for regrets.
Iser gave an awkward smile.
“At this rate we’ll end up with three enormous pots.”
“Don’t joke. No matter how much there is, it’ll only be one pot.”
“…….”
“…Though once we start cooking, it might expand a bit…”
Ji-oh never measured ingredients with precision; he preferred tossing things in by feel. As a result the volume often ballooned absurdly during cooking. Aria used to say the stew was “multiplying.”
“…Hmm…”
Ji-oh remained unapologetic.
“Once it’s made, we can keep eating it for ages or share it with the neighbors.”
“I’m not sure… where exactly are the neighbors here? Beyond this forest?”
“Iser’s Abyssal Temple could count as my neighbor too.”
“Your definition of ‘neighbor’ is truly expansive. I’m impressed by the generosity.”
“You can’t see them now, but whenever I step in front of the frame, neighbors appear from time to time.”
“Ah… so that’s how it is…”
Iser nodded, then went still for a moment.
“…You shared it with humans?”
“Does that annoy you?”
“I can’t say it doesn’t, but… those fragile humans who would melt if you put them in seawater?”
“What’s the problem?”
“Well…”
Iser hesitated before speaking.
“…Gifts like that seem far too generous for humans.”
“Humans don’t even deserve to share my cooking?”
“When you put it that way it sounds strange, but… isn’t that basically true?”
“Teacher always said we shouldn’t discriminate over food among people, Iser.”
“…Of course that is correct as well, but…”
He trailed off, chewing his lip.
…Food made by a god could never be an ordinary gift to humans.
Iser still did not fully understand what Ji-oh was. He only knew that this man had inherited the Sun God’s divinity—making him, in effect, the second Sun God—and that even setting that aside, he was an existence of distant rank whose foundation seemed to be the “haunted portrait.”
Can cooking by such a being produce ordinary food?
Ordinary people would call something like that a holy relic. And if it was not merely something to look at or touch, but something that could be eaten… humans would call it divine selection. It created saints and saintesses.
“…….”
“Iser?”
“…Well, since it takes the form of tomato stew, it’s hard to argue.”
“Stew is stew. What else would it be?”
“No, it’s food, of course. Everything Teacher says is right.”
Even as a human, Giovanni had frequently done things that shattered common sense and limits. Handing out tomato stew that bordered on a holy relic to the people of Earth now was hardly strange.
“Still, I do feel jealous. The thought of humans receiving that kindness from Teacher twists my insides.”
“Sharing a little cooking is nothing to get twisted up over.”
Ji-oh shrugged.
“We used to do this all the time back in Edelon village.”
“Those wicked traitors who ate the delicious food and then betrayed you in the end…”
“Have another tomato.”
As a merfolk whose physiology made him a natural big eater, Iser never refused food Ji-oh offered. It was a truly delicious tomato.
“Still… the quantity is definitely going to increase.”
“If anything’s left after we share, you all will have to finish it, won’t you?”
“Why… why do we have to finish it?”
“…….”
Ji-oh studied Iser carefully.
“…….”
“…Um…”
“You’re still far too thin.”
“Teacher, most merfolk have this body type.”
“Seeing you so skinny makes this teacher’s heart ache.”
“I am not skinny.”
Even in the past Giovanni had been unable to bear the sight of anyone going hungry, but somehow in the time they had been apart that big heart seemed to have grown even larger. Iser remembered Giovanni smiling wistfully and saying, “I wish everyone would turn into little pigs.”
Can a person really change this little? No… it might have gotten worse…
Leaving Iser to those thoughts, Ji-oh moved on to the next task.
“Time to chop. Iser, if you don’t mind, would you check on the Club Trumpet Clams for me?”
“…Ah, yes. I’ll change their water once more and then come to the kitchen.”
“Take your time.”
Ji-oh hoisted the mountain of vegetables and carried it into the cabin.
“…….”
“Oh, Aria. Resting well?”
“…Just what are you planning to make? Donating stew for the relief of the poor?”
“No, it’s for us to eat.”
“Ji-oh, I keep telling you—we are a species that cannot become pigs. A merfolk’s body does not change easily. Even my research finds it difficult.”
“You mustn’t chain yourself to your own limits like that.”
Having encouraged his former student—who had returned to adult form at some point—Ji-oh dumped the entire pile of vegetables onto the kitchen table. The sheer quantity produced not a simple thud but a long, rumbling ku-ru-ru that echoed through the cabin.
Dana, who had been receiving affection from the teddy bear, hopped lightly up onto the table.
“Meung-mang-mang-mang.”
“You’re going to eat them now? They’re not cooked yet. You’ll get a stomachache.”
“Meung-mang-mang-mang-mang…”
“Ah, wait—no.”
“Meu-geung.”
Dana clamped a sweet potato in her mouth and fled.
“…Our daughter has such clear goals. She’ll grow into an excellent hunter.”
Moments later Honey flew over and settled on his shoulder.
“Kkureureuk?”
“Did you come to steal ingredients too?”
“Kkung.”
“Yes, cooked food is better.”
Ji-oh nodded once in approval and began prepping the ingredients.
“Best to start by sautéing the onions.”
Every household had its own way of making stew. Some browned the meat first; others began with onions for the umami. Still others simmered the tomatoes down first for a deeper flavor. Ji-oh preferred melting butter and frying the onions first.
“That’s how you draw out the onions’ full savoriness.”
“Kkureuk?”
“The meat? If you brown the meat first, the fond sticks to the bottom of the pot and really boosts the broth… but you can get almost the same effect by searing it in a separate pan and adding it later, so I put the onions in first.”
Especially with stainless-steel pots, the bottom could scorch before you reached a satisfactory state. Since Ji-oh was no professional chef, mistakes were inevitable from time to time.
“The onion-and-butter combination really is the most stable.”
The same went for the tomatoes.
“Even if you don’t simmer the tomatoes first, the moisture evaporates while everything boils, and since I’m putting them in right after the onions anyway, I don’t think there’s much difference.”
“Kkuru-ruk, kkureuk.”
“Ah, of course if you specifically want the aroma of fried tomatoes, putting them in first makes sense. But if you’ve already made tomato paste beforehand, you can add that anytime later.”
“Kkureureu?”
“…I don’t have any paste made right now.”
Tomato paste was, simply put, an intensely tomato-flavored sauce. Most households cooked it down thick and sticky to match their taste, then diluted it later as needed.
“…….”
Ji-oh nodded.
“Looks like the to-do list just got longer.”
“Kkuk.”
“Having things like paste ready makes the pantry of the heart feel abundant.”
Pickles and sauces—the more the better. Make them well once and the whole year feels plentiful.
Onions could be minced small just for savoriness, or cut a little larger to help with texture. Soft, well-cooked onions in stew had a fun, melting, crumbling mouthfeel.
Ji-oh diced the onions to a suitable size, dropped a generous amount of butter into a large pot, and let it melt.
“The more butter, the better.”
“Kkuk?”
“You could call it a pig-fattening device.”
The more butter went in, the more meat went in—that was the law of stew. Even people who claimed they liked healthy food eventually admitted that the unhealthy stuff was what tasted good.
“And now all the onions…”
Iser, having returned after changing the soaking water, asked,
“Are you perhaps planning to make onion soup?”
“Onion soup is nice too, but today’s star is tomato stew.”
“Aha…”
“Stir for me, please.”
“Yes, Teacher.”
Ji-oh entrusted the pot to Iser with instructions to keep the onions from burning and to coax them into a delicious brown, then continued prepping. Next, of course, were the tomatoes.
Definitely softer than Earth’s tomatoes.
They felt more like springy jelly or pudding. When he pressed the blade down, the tomato yielded like a large jelly, then slowly, stickily parted, hinting at its viscous flesh.
“Finely chopped tomatoes going in.”
“The pot already looks like it’s going to overflow.”
“Then we’ll just add another pot.”
“So it really will multiply into three…”
“I’ll try to keep it to two.”
“Please do.”
Iser said no more and simply brought out one more pot.
“I trust you.”
“I’ll repay that trust.”
“May it not overflow.”
Ji-oh briefly made the sign of the sun and offered a short prayer. In the living room the teddy bear, who had been playing with Dana, gave a little start. Ji-oh naturally ignored the reaction and kept working.
He peeled the potatoes and cut them into bite-sized cubes. Half the sweet potatoes he had pulled were sliced into long sticks; the other half he washed thoroughly and set on a colander.
“These sweet potatoes I’m saving to roast over the campfire later. Sound good?”
“Kkureureureureureureureu.”
“What a splendid little pig. You truly deserve to be my son.”
With the noble smile of a high priest, Ji-oh nodded and moved on.
For the cabbage he stripped away the outermost leaves and used the inner heart. Turning the cabbage over, he thrust the knife into the root end—ssuk, ssuk, ssuk, shuk—circling around the core until the stem popped free.
“Once the core’s out, roughly quartering the cabbage is about the right size.”
Next, the peas.
“Sweet potatoes and peas aren’t used much on Earth, but Edelon stew is characterized by its variety of vegetables. Especially since the tomatoes we’re using this time are quite sweet, softer ingredients like these should be fine.”
Adding beans to stew gave a pleasant pop when you bit them along with the broth. More than anything, peas released a gentle sweetness and deep nuttiness once cooked. Seo Ji-oh especially loved peas among all beans.
“And the pumpkin too.”
“Kkureuk.”
“This one’s shaped differently from Earth’s as well.”
The pumpkin he had harvested was the familiar flat, yellowish winter squash of Earth, yet only as large as a kabocha. The sweetness would not be strong, but it would add the soft flavor and texture unique to pumpkin.
“I wonder if I might find a beehive while wandering this forest.”
“What are you planning to make with it, Teacher?”
“The garden pumpkins aren’t very sweet, but their soft, nutty taste is outstanding. Steam them well and top with honey and butter—they’re quite delicious.”
“That sounds lovely… honey and butter…”
“A light sprinkle of salt deepens the flavor even more.”
Answering Iser, Ji-oh began prepping the pumpkin. He scooped out the seeds, peeled it completely, and cut it into suitable chunks. It might have been an unfamiliar combination to Earthlings, but pumpkin swimming in a tomato-based broth was surprisingly excellent.
“Peel and cut the carrots as well…”
The vegetables were done.
“Next are the clams and sausages.”
“The Club Trumpet Clams were still spitting out a little mud.”
“Ah, is that so?”
“But they should finish purging in about twenty minutes.”
“Then shall we start with the sausages and the other clams?”
Ji-oh fetched ham and sausages he had previously made from Tree-Horn Deer meat out of the storage. Some portions that had been dry-cured whole had become excellent ham; the sausages he sometimes grilled still boasted the same deep aroma as before.
“First we have to remove the hard parts…”
He trimmed away the entire hardened outer rind of the ham, then cut only the salt-cured, bright-red interior into small cubes. For the sausages he decided to use the ground meat inside after removing the tough casing.
“…But since they take so much work, it feels wasteful to throw the rind away.”
“Kkureuk-gururururu.”
“The more you chew, the nuttier the tripe…”
In the end he decided to cut the rind into suitable pieces and add it to the stew as well. It was a bit tough from drying, but once it had boiled vigorously in the hot stew it would quickly regain its chew. This particular rind had remarkable resilience.
“How’s the stew coming along?”
“It’ll need a little more time for the vegetables to cook through.”
Stew simmered with assorted vegetables and the underground water of Edelon village was characterized by its thoroughly soft texture. It looked like it would need at least another hour, so Ji-oh nodded.
“Then let’s put the prepared meat into one of the pots.”
“The stew needs constant watching so the bottom doesn’t burn… should we just drop the meat in as is?”
“I’ll brown it; you keep an eye on the pots.”
He quickly seared the cured meats to draw out their aroma, then tipped everything into one pot. After more than an hour of gentle simmering they would become meltingly tender.
With the remaining time he prepped the clams.
“Sunlight Turban Shells and Black Tray Clams are best grilled… so I’ll just scrape out a few, and leave the rest as they are…”
Black Tray Clams in particular cooked through even over low heat, so careful fire control was essential. Ji-oh called over Aria, who had been watching the cooking from near the kitchen.
“Aria, could you help prepare the grill?”
“…Should I set up a campfire like before?”
“If you could also build walls so we can rest a grill rack across them, I’d be grateful.”
“Not difficult.”
Aria went outside with the teddy bear tucked under one arm.
“…? Why Father…?”
He had no idea why she was dragging the Sun God along, but it looked like an entertaining little episode might unfold, so he decided to ignore it for now.
Ji-oh brought over the Club Trumpet Clams that had finished purging, washed them clean once more, then split the razor-clam-like shells and extracted the meat.
Long, soft, substantial flesh like a siphon appeared.
“…….”
“Kkuk?”
“Perfect.”
This was exactly it.
“It’s delicious raw, too.”
He cut away the chewy parts with a knife, then sliced the meat into pieces about a centimeter thick. When he put a piece of the pale-yellow flesh—neither too thin nor too thick—into his mouth…
This is romance. This is paradise.
The sweetly melting, springy texture was incredible.
“Ah…”
Couldn’t he just eat it all raw?
A clean sip of refined rice wine and one sweet slice of sashimi. For the thirty-something Giovanni who had already been declared dead, it was an irresistible temptation.
(To be continued)