Several days had passed since Ironfoot’s visit.
In the meantime, the restaurant was no different from usual.
By no different from usual, I mean that no new customers came.
I rested my chin on the counter,
and stared for a long while at the empty liquor bottle beside me.
Thirty-year-aged dwarven liquor that Ironfoot had left behind.
I had been nursing it for days,
but yesterday, I finally drained it down to the very last sip.
“Manageeer~ Are you looking at that empty bottle again?”
Aris, the seaweed ghost, came pattering over from the side and spoke to me.
I brought the mouth of the bottle to the tip of my nose.
The liquor had been gone for some time,
but a faint lingering scent still remained inside the bottle.
That heavy aroma, like the smell of earth rising after rain.
The expression Aris had used when I first took a sip—
now that I had spent several days breathing it in, it struck me as even more accurate.
“Manager, why do you like that empty bottle so much?”
“I’m waiting.”
“For who?”
“Ironfoot.”
“……That dwarf uncle?”
Aris glanced at the empty bottle,
then perched herself beside the counter.
“But Manager, is that man really going to come again?”
“He will.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve heard dwarves don’t easily break a promise once they’ve made one.”
Without another word, I set the empty bottle back down on the counter.
“……I think it’s about time he came.”
* * *
It was an afternoon a few more days later.
The shop bell rang noisily.
Jingle— jingle-jingle—
“Gahahaha! Been well, Klaus?”
The one who opened the door and came in was Ironfoot.
He was carrying two large bottles of liquor in both hands,
and on his back was a bag stuffed full of things.
Last time, he had been dressed in work clothes,
but today, he wore comparatively neat clothes and had even trimmed his beard cleanly.
“It’s been a while. You really did come.”
“If I made a promise, I’ve got to keep it! I brought new liquor too!”
As soon as Ironfoot entered the restaurant, he plunked the two bottles onto the table.
One bottle was an amber color similar to the last one,
and the other was a deep, dark red.
Dark red liquor……
This was a kind I was seeing for the first time.
“Is this a new liquor as well?”
“This time, let’s pour a glass from this one! It’s been aged fifty years!”
“Fifty years.”
“Last time was thirty years. This time, fifty!”
Ironfoot puffed out his chest proudly.
Last time, Irit had been here too,
and somehow the drinking session had turned rather chaotic, but today was different.
This time, I felt I could properly savor it.
“Please wait a moment.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll make some snacks to go with it.”
“Oh, now this I’m looking forward to.”
I went into the kitchen and quickly began preparing the side dishes.
Last time, I hadn’t been able to identify exactly what kind of liquor Ironfoot had brought.
Naturally, I hadn’t given any particular thought to what food would suit it.
But while savoring even the aroma at the bottom of the thirty-year bottle over the course of several days,
one question had taken root in my mind.
What kind of food, exactly, did this liquor pair well with?
Liquor with a deep and heavy aroma usually paired with food that had a rich flavor.
Aged cheese, smoked meat, stews with thick sauces.
Then what about this dwarven liquor?
The thirty-year-aged amber dwarven liquor had certainly been heavy when I first drank it,
but it had a strangely clean finish.
I was curious how far that taste could accept different foods.
First, I prepared three side dishes.
The first was a piece of white fish, lightly grilled and seasoned only with salt.
The second was a slice of lamb steak strongly seasoned with pepper.
The third was thinly sliced ripe apple with a light drizzle of honey over it.
Fish, meat, and fruit.
Three drastically different side dishes.
I placed the three plates on a large tray, balanced it on one hand, and came out.
“What’s all this?”
Ironfoot’s eyes went wide.
“They’re side dishes to eat with the liquor.”
“There’s quite a bit of this and that.”
“In the world of gastronomy, liquor isn’t something you drink to get drunk. It serves to enhance the taste of food.”
While I lined the side dishes up on the table, Ironfoot poured the fifty-year-aged liquor into a glass.
The dark red liquor slowly flowed into the cup.
Its color was far deeper than the thirty-year-aged one.
“Here, take it.”
“Yes.”
I accepted the glass and slowly smelled the aroma first.
The scent was much richer than the thirty-year-aged liquor.
To the earthy scent I had felt last time,
there was now something heavy and sweet added.
Even on its own, this liquor already possessed a completely different depth.
I held a sip in my mouth.
At first, it was intense,
but as time passed, that intensity softened and loosened.
The aftertaste lingered for a long while on the tip of my tongue.
“……How is it?”
“It’s remarkable.”
I meant it sincerely.
I had drunk all sorts of alcohol in my life,
but liquor with this level of depth could be counted on one hand.
And if a fifty-year-aged one was like this,
what in the world would an even older liquor taste like?
Was it true that dwarven liquor tasted better the longer it was aged?
If that really was true……
After enjoying the lingering taste of the liquor for a moment,
I picked up a piece of white fish and put it in my mouth.
A plain fish, lightly cooked and seasoned only with salt.
This sort of food usually did not pair well with strong liquor.
A light white wine would be the safer match.
Immediately after putting the fish in my mouth,
I took another sip of liquor.
“……”
My hand stopped.
The two, which I had thought would not suit each other,
were strangely well matched.
The plainness of the fish gently softened the intensity of the liquor,
while the liquor’s depth remained intact.
If anything, its flavor became clearer than when eating the fish alone.
Strange.
Then what about lamb?
I put a piece of pepper-seasoned lamb into my mouth.
The strong, distinctive meaty aroma of lamb, and the scent of pepper as a spice.
This would surely clash head-on with the strength of the liquor.
And then another sip.
“……”
This combination suited it too.
The liquor supported the heavy flavor of the lamb,
and the depth of the liquor grew even richer atop the lamb.
It was a completely different kind of harmony from the fish.
Lastly, a piece of apple.
A sweet and refreshing fruit.
Surely this, at least, would not suit it.
After all, it was not a generally fitting combination.
One bite.
And then another sip of liquor.
“……”
What was going on?
It suited the apple too.
The sweetness of the apple blended with the aroma of the dwarven liquor, making it feel as though I were drinking a completely different liquor.
“This…… suits any kind of food.”
“Gahahaha! That’s why our dwarven liquor is a masterpiece!”
Ironfoot laughed heartily and gulped down a sip of liquor.
“Our liquor has always been like that. That’s why dwarves don’t bother separating types of liquor at meals.”
“……This isn’t just liquor.”
I looked once more at the glass in my hand.
Ordinary liquor had foods that it paired well with.
There were foods that suited it, and foods that did not.
That was only natural.
But this liquor did not discriminate against its partners.
It accepted all foods,
yet did not lose its own distinct character.
If such liquor were commonly distributed in the royal capital,
the pairing ecosystem of restaurants might be turned upside down.
“A brewery that makes liquor like this……”
Naturally, a brewery came to mind.
“Mr. Ironfoot.”
“Hm?”
I set down my glass and looked at Ironfoot.
“May I ask you a favor?”
Ironfoot put down his glass and faced me.
Perhaps because he usually drank so much,
his reddish nose looked even redder than usual.
“You’re suddenly making such a serious face…… What is it?”
“The Amberholt Brewery. I would like to go see it for myself.”
Ironfoot’s eyes widened slightly.
Then, a beat later,
he began to laugh loudly.
“Gahahaha! Have you fallen head over heels for the taste of our brewery’s liquor?”
“After drinking liquor like this, I don’t think I can stand not seeing what kind of place it is.”
“I know that feeling! Of course I do!”
Ironfoot laughed heartily and thumped his chest.
But soon, he stopped laughing and sat down.
“But you see, Klaus. There’s one problem.”
“……?”
“Humans are not usually allowed inside Amberholt.”
I had known that.
Unlike human society, the societies of other races were often closed off.
That was why I had to ask all the more.
“Dwarves have always been that way. It’s free for us to come up to the surface and mingle with humans, but allowing outsiders into our city is another matter.”
“Would it not be possible for you to put in a good word, Mr. Ironfoot?”
“Not a chance. Who do you think I am?”
Ironfoot picked up his glass again as he spoke.
“I may be a work crew chief, but bringing an outsider into the city is something that requires the king’s permission.”
“The king……?”
“His Majesty Stormbeard, King of Amberholt.”
The dwarf king……
“What kind of person is he?”
“Hmm, well……”
Ironfoot stroked his beard and chose his words.
“To put it simply, he’s an old man with a fussy palate.”
* * *
According to Ironfoot’s explanation, Stormbeard was this sort of person.
An old king who sat on the throne in the deepest part of Amberholt,
and had spent his entire life insisting on only dwarven-style cuisine and dwarven-style liquor.
He permitted exchanges with other races only as much as necessary,
personally tasted every liquor that came out of the brewery, and was said to have strict standards when it came to food as well.
“But His Majesty Stormbeard has quite the appetite, you see.”
“Is that so?”
“He does. He’s the sort of person who would never skip a meal even if the world were ending tomorrow. On top of that, if something doesn’t suit his palate, he gets terribly angry. He has twenty-four chefs in charge of his meals, working in shifts.”
The moment I heard that, a certain picture formed in my mind.
It would be difficult to meet him in person and persuade him.
He was surely not such an easygoing king that he would listen just because one human came to make a request.
But if the method of conversation was food,
then perhaps the story could change.
“Mr. Ironfoot.”
“What is it?”
“May I ask you for one more favor?”
“Again?”
“When you return next time, I would like you to take some of my food with you.”
Ironfoot stopped just as he was bringing his glass to his lips.
“……What?”
“It is for His Majesty. Please tell him I made it as a greeting.”
“You want to ask for a tour of the brewery with that?”
“Not as a request. More as a greeting.”
I continued slowly.
“I’m sending it as a way of paying my respects first. If the food pleases His Majesty, I intend to make my request afterward.”
“Hooh……”
Ironfoot set down his glass and stroked his beard.
“This is interesting. Klaus, are you saying you’re confident you can satisfy that fussy old man’s palate?”
Then he suddenly raised one arm and thumped his own chest.
“Good, I’ll deliver it to him! I don’t know how His Majesty will react, but it’s worth a try!”
“Thank you.”
“When will you make the food I’m supposed to take? I’ll come at the right time.”
“It won’t take long. How should I contact you?”
“You know the entrance of the rocky mountain we came out of, don’t you? I’ll drive an iron rod there and leave a ring on it, so hang it there, and I’ll come.”
“Understood.”
And so, in order to persuade the dwarf king,
I came to make a lunchbox to be delivered through Ironfoot.
* * *