Chapter 3: Nakamura Azami's Cooking Was Badly Reviewed (Patreon)

"Oh!" "You came out of Totsuki Academy?"

At the question, Mana's gaze swept instinctively to Azami Nakamura standing beside her, her eyes taking on a measure of scrutiny.

Off to the side, the female Manager's heart clenched hard!

Her hands tightened on the hem of her apron, and her whole body went rigid.

She had been the one to bring up Nakamura's background. The whole point was to lean on Totsuki's gilded reputation and get this obviously difficult young lady to go easy on them! A few extra kind words for the little restaurant would help boost its popularity, too.

---

But. She hadn't expected this.

Her sales pitch had backfired.

The moment Mana confirmed that the chef before her came from Totsuki, there wasn't a shred of leniency in her. Instead, she felt a stricter standard rise.

The chefs Totsuki produced were exceptional to begin with.

So she would taste this properly. She wanted to see whether this fellow alumnus's cooking would disgrace the Totsuki name.

Then Mana lowered her head, one hand resting lightly against her chin as she thought. She looked up at Nakamura, her tone mild and flat. "Someone called you Nakamura just now..." "If I remember right..." "The current Third Seat of Totsuki's Elite Ten Council." "His name was... hmm, let me think. Oh, right. Azami Nakamura. Could that be you?"

Nakamura stiffened slightly, his hands tightening quietly at his sides. "It's me. I'm Azami Nakamura, Third Seat of the Elite Ten. I'm currently on off-campus field training, which is why I'm interning at this little restaurant."

Mana only nodded faintly.

She didn't bother with any more pleasantries. She simply picked up her knife and fork and tasted the Fish Paupiette Nakamura had made with his own hands!

---

In all fairness, Nakamura's talent in the kitchen was beyond question.

Totsuki's golden age was full of prodigies, and he had held the Third Seat of the Elite Ten as a mere first-year. That alone proved an insight and foundation far beyond other chefs his age!

No exaggeration: among his peers, he was already top tier!

Unfortunately. His luck was bad.

Today, of all days, he had run into Mana Nakiri, who had honed her God's Tongue to its absolute peak!

That supernatural palate was even sharper and more merciless than Erina Nakiri's, who would become famous many years later!

---

The dish had rested on her tongue for only a few seconds.

That was enough. With her God's Tongue, Mana pinpointed four or five extremely subtle flaws hidden within it.

They were buried deep. An ordinary gourmet or diner would never have noticed them, but under her razor-sharp palate...

Every oversight was laid bare, with nowhere to hide.

Barely ten seconds later, Mana set down her knife and fork.

A faint, mocking smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She didn't take a second bite, just pulled a napkin from beside her and wiped her lips unhurriedly.

---

"Haah." "I got my hopes up for nothing." "So that's all the Third Seat of the Elite Ten has to offer."

She looked up at Nakamura, whose face had changed slightly, and said with disappointment, "A finished dish like this makes me deeply disappointed in this year's Elite Ten."

At this moment, Nakamura had not yet been swallowed by obsessive ambition.

His heart was still pure and simple.

But as a culinary prodigy everyone adored, the endless praise he'd received for so long had bred a pride in him that he couldn't quite hide!

Until now, he had always believed that with the skills he'd polished for years, he could hand in a flawless answer even to Mana Nakiri and her God's Tongue.

Yet who would have thought?

He had poured everything he had into his signature dish, and all he got back was the verdict: "That's all it is."

Resentment surged up in him. Nakamura stepped half a pace forward, brows knitted, and pressed her. "Miss Nakiri, may I ask what exactly is wrong with this dish?"

---

Mana looked at him quietly.

Her voice was calm, but every word struck home.

"If you were an ordinary street vendor, being able to make a dish at this level would already be rare." "But you're the Third Seat of Totsuki's Elite Ten, standing before an exacting diner. In a dish like this, even the slightest flaw will ruin the entire impression it leaves." "Fish Paupiette." "It's a classic signature dish of French cuisine, after all." "The balance of salt and savoriness is its very soul, and four seasonings, butter, sea salt, black pepper and brandy, form the skeleton that holds up the whole flavor!" "So whether you can precisely control the seasoning ratios decides the ceiling of this dish."

"And you?" "You wanted to create a style that was all your own." "So you took it upon yourself to add Dutch garlic to the dish." "You swapped it in for the Japanese garlic commonly used in the traditional French recipe, deliberately amplifying the layers of garlic to set off the rich sweetness of the brandy." "The idea." "Is novel, I'll give you that." "But it made the most fatal mistake." "The garlic explodes with intensity the moment it hits the mouth, and that does deliver a strong shock to the palate." "But as the dish melts on the tongue, that heavy, pungent garlic completely smothers the gentle creaminess of the butter and the spice of the black pepper. The flavor of the whole dish falls out of balance."

---

Then Mana cut straight to the heart of the problem.

"You only calculated the impact of the flavor before it entered the mouth, and in the first moment it did." "But." "You completely ignored..." "The aftertaste, the way flavor keeps spreading and lingering in the mouth." "Your dish opens dazzlingly, but its strength fades steadily, and it ends thin and hollow, with a severely lacking finish. That is your biggest failure."

Ordinary customers would never pay these subtle gaps in flavor any mind. But by Mana Nakiri's standards, any dish with a flaw was a complete and utter failure!

As he listened to this piercing critique, the color drained from Nakamura's face until it was bloodless and white.

Yes. He wasn't stupid, either!

As a gifted chef, he understood exactly what his fatal weakness was.

He had chased after creativity and a dazzling opening, pouring himself into a momentary shock to the palate, and failed to control the full, flowing arc of flavor from start to finish.

All he had was. A flash of novel ingenuity. And no power to command the balance of the whole!

Mana Nakiri gave him a cool glance, rose, smoothed her sleeve, and left behind one chilly verdict. "Let's go. The food at this restaurant is nothing special."

---

With that, she prepared to turn and leave.

Just as Mana's feet shifted, Nakamura, silent for so long, suddenly raised his head. His voice carried an unmistakable urgency and earnestness as he rushed forward to block her path.

"Wait." "Please, give me one more chance!"

He bowed deeply, his back ramrod straight, and pleaded, "Miss Nakiri..." "I'm begging you." "Please, let me cook it again!"