There was a time in Earth’s history when one kilogram of pepper was worth as much as one kilogram of gold.
There were all sorts of interests and circumstances of the era that allowed pepper’s value to reach that of gold, but the core reason was clear.
Spices were not merely used to add fragrance to food; they functioned as luxury goods.
That phenomenon was no different in another world.
As far as I knew, pepper was a precious spice commoners rarely even got to see.
Even in Earth’s history, where there were no such things as magical beasts, the logistics costs for spices were extremely high. In another world where magical beasts and mana existed, it would only be worse, not better.
And this was not a problem limited to pepper alone.
The same went for spices from the Middle East and Asia, such as fennel, cumin, turmeric, cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon.
In that sense, the fact that I had bought that complete spice set for a mere twenty-two silver coins was an absurd triumph—practically getting it for free.
Why had the blond, tanned adventurer sold these spices so cheaply?
Only he knew the exact reason, but perhaps it was because the quantity of each spice was very small, and because unlike relatively familiar spices such as pepper, these were spices that people tended to have strong likes and dislikes about.
Well, either way, it was good news. Thanks to that, I could make curry.
Even if they were the knights of a duchy, had they ever eaten a dish in which vast quantities of spices had been harmoniously combined?
Absolutely not. Duke Kailan probably hadn’t either.
In many ways, it was a dish more than capable of making an impact.
I had the cooks prepare the vegetables that would be used as ingredients for the curry stew.
While they scrubbed, peeled, and chopped the vegetables, I found a shadowy corner of the kitchen.
Then I took out the spices that had not been completely spilled from my backpack.
At the indiscriminate assault of smells that poured out once more, Iseria started coughing and gagging.
“A-Achoo! What are you planning to do with that?”
“Just wait. This is the very peak of stimulation.”
To make curry stew, I naturally had to start by blending curry powder.
The essential spices included turmeric, cumin, coriander, chili, cloves, cardamom, fennel, and so on… There were far too many spices needed to explain each one before moving on.
But the core was to take turmeric, coriander, and cumin as the base, then add the remaining spices according to preference.
Because there were countless kinds of spices, curry made by locals in India tasted different from household to household.
That individually blended spice powder was called “garam masala.”
If I were to compare it to Korea, it was like how every household’s kimchi tasted different.
‘Now that makes it easy to understand.’
Thanks to the spices I had obtained cheaply, I had almost all the spices needed for curry powder.
They had also been registered as items in the [Mana Market], so I didn’t need to worry about quantity either.
No matter how much mana was consumed when trading ingredients such as vegetables or meat through the [Mana Market], it amounted to one-tenth of my total mana at most.
The ingredients summoned that way varied by type, but in restaurant terms, roughly one box’s worth came out.
The important point was that the same applied to spices.
With one kilogram of the O*gi curry powder we commonly know, you can make curry for fifty people.
Of course, curry powder and curry roux powder were completely different ingredients, but the only difference was whether the lump of spices had seasoning added to it or not.
In other words, even though the dish was already absurdly cost-effective, with a click of the [Mana Market], I could make enough curry for a thousand people with only a bit of exaggeration.
If I made a generous three kilograms of curry powder and seasoned it with salt and chicken stock, three hundred servings would be finished in an instant.
I began blending the curry powder with the classic curry powder ratio of turmeric 3, coriander 2, cumin 1.
After establishing the base, I added the other spices in small amounts and gradually increased the total volume. Before long, a curry powder with a harmonious aroma was complete.
Iseria, who had been watching my hands from beside me, grew increasingly surprised as the fragrances gradually found their proper places, and when the powder was finally finished…
“Hieek, hieeeek…”
Sniff, sniff.
Like a cat melted by the smell of catnip, she buried her nose in the powder.
“Hey! That’s for eating!”
“Just… just a little longer…”
I snatched the curry powder away.
Iseria thrust her face after it in time with the movement, but I firmly pushed her away as well.
Was she going that crazy because there were still no animal ingredients, and it was all just a lump of spices made from high-quality plants?
Seeing Iseria’s reaction made me look forward to how the soldiers would react once they ate the curry.
I mixed chicken stock and salt into the curry powder to season it.
When I tasted a bit to check it, it wasn’t quite a flavor that made me think of the Indian brothers… but it had a taste somewhere at the intersection between Indian curry and Japanese curry.
‘Oh, this is pretty good?’
The original plan had been to make a curry stew with a slightly thin, stew-like consistency to eat with flatbread, so this taste was even closer to my goal than a completely Indian-style curry.
After finishing the curry powder, I checked whether the cooks had properly prepared everything.
“Did you do everything I told you to?”
“Yes! We’ve chopped all thirty kilograms of potatoes, twenty kilograms of onions, ten kilograms of carrots, and seven kilograms of turnips.”
Just as the cook said, clean vegetables had been prepared in large baskets, all cut into cubes.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected them to finish everything from the start. I had planned to help wrap things up if they were still chopping at a reasonable pace.
‘With kids this competent…’
As long as they weren’t butchering the ingredients, having quick hands was a considerable advantage in cooking.
If your hands were quick, after finishing prep or cooking, you could focus on hygiene, fine-tuning delicate flavors, and following the recipe without mistakes.
To think someone made that kind of garbage meal with these guys… The former supply officer was just the absolute JOAT.
Whether it was because the aroma of the curry powder I made had spread throughout the entire kitchen, or because they finally had a head chef giving proper orders after so long…
It might have been both. The cooks asked me with cute expressions mixed with anticipation and curiosity.
“Um… Supply Officer. What exactly is the food you’re making right now… Ah, I’m sorry!”
“Huh?”
The cook who seemed to have the most seniority asked me what dish I was making, so I was about to kindly answer him, but…
He didn’t finish his sentence and instead flinched in surprise, then bowed his head ninety degrees.
What was that? Why did he do that? Don’t tell me… was it because the question could be taken as trying to pry out the recipe?
It seemed his desire to satisfy his curiosity had slipped out without him realizing it.
From a modern person’s sensibilities, it wasn’t an issue that mattered at all.
“It’s fine. Temporary or not, I’m the supply officer, so I should properly teach you guys the recipe before I leave. The dish is called curry, and I’ll write down the detailed recipe for you later.”
“Y-yes? Truly?”
“What would I gain from lying about something like this? Let’s finish the cooking first.”
“Yes, sir!!”
At my words that I would readily hand over the recipe, all the cooks filled themselves with enthusiasm.
It was something so obvious that it was embarrassing to even say, but my heart felt complicated, and at the same time, I was proud of them.
I instructed them to divide the prepared ingredients among six large cauldrons.
After all, it was six hundred servings, so it couldn’t be done in one pot.
Even divided up, each pot would contain a hundred servings, so the deep, rich flavor unique to large-batch stew would be more than enough.
In truth… at this point, it was hard to even call it cooking.
If you were making it at home or eating it at a restaurant, that was one thing, but curry in mass catering?
Then there was no caramelizing onions, no Maillard reaction on the potatoes or carrots… none of that stuff.
“Pour in the hot water!”
“Yes!”
Glug, glug, glug!
We poured in the hot water that had been boiling nearby until the ingredients were submerged, then raised the heat.
And when I dissolved the curry powder I had made, making sure there were no clumps…
“Huuuh! W-what is this smell?”
“I don’t know… I’ve never smelled anything like it in my life. It’s so intense… sniff—haa…”
“Huuup!!! Hiyuuu…”
As the curry powder dissolved into the hot water, the aroma of curry exploded.
The cooks, who had already been on high alert from the extraordinary smell of spices even before then, were completely undone by the curry aroma shaking their minds.
While we were at it, Iseria also came undone and was inhaling the smell to the very limit of her lung capacity.
“Now simmer it for one more hour while stirring well so it doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot. And… do we have any leftover jerky?”
“Yes. We do.”
“Put an appropriate amount of that into the curry too.”
Medieval jerky could not be called delicious in either taste or aroma, but if you threw it into a hell of spices that allowed no off-flavors, it would simply become a fragrant source of protein.
They were working hard fighting, so they should eat meat, not just carbohydrates.
After finishing the preparations for the curry like that, we baked all the flatbread to eat with it during the remaining time.
“You… do you think spirit arts are a joke?!”
“The fire spirit says it likes it too~”
“That may be true, but…!”
For reference, Iseria worked hard when baking the flatbread.
The ovens used in the kitchen had inconsistent firepower and were a hassle to maintain, so I had borrowed the power of spirits.
Iseria seemed uncomfortable using spirits for something like cooking and made a fuss, but when she saw the fire spirit actually enjoying itself, she couldn’t really say much.
Beyond the northern wall, the shouts of battle continued to ring out.
However, the sun was already beginning to sink, and the personnel who had been fighting until just now were being rotated out and slowly returning.
Feeling the atmosphere of the garrison grow a little noisy, I said,
“All right, let’s begin dinner distribution.”
“Yes, sir!”
Curry, the eternal staple of cafeteria menus, was making its full-fledged debut in another world!