Chef sat on his furs, eating his stuffed boar and contemplating life. It was good, there was no denying that. The boar that is, though life had been rather decent lately as well. All of his meals lately were much better than what he used to eat. And yet, he longed for his pastries and bread. The blend of sweet and savory.

Once more he looked over at his wall of pots, sitting there. They taunted him with their imperfections. Jeered at him with untold secrets hidden within their strange contents. He sighed.

Chef had no idea what to do with the milk or even the cream. He knew that his new summon spell had to be critical for his pastries, presumably allowing him to make a wider berth or at least higher quality sweets. But how exactly? He’d tried everything he could think of but nothing worked.

If he left it alone, it spoiled. If he used it immediately it was…fine? It wasn’t bad but it didn’t seem to go all that well with the other sweets. It might need the flour to work well, but he was worried about wasting it. The flour, not the milk. He had infinite milk. Probably. How did that work exactly?

Anyways, the speed with which the milk went bad made him too nervous to use it on anything he couldn’t easily get more of. Every pinch of flour was precious. He couldn’t afford to blindly experiment, not at the cost of his most precious possession.

It was time to accept the truth. The horrible, miserable truth.

I’m going to have to ask for help. Again.

It was time to pay the cook a visit.

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Something was off today. Everyone acted weird, well weirder than usual, when he made his way to the cook’s house. The father was there, but it didn’t take long for Chef to figure out what it was.

Human[27]

The father wasn’t high level at all! He just knew how to cook!

The revelation was too shocking for Chef as he truly looked at the man for the first time. Taking a step back, he contemplated his life while the man sweated out a swimming pool of water. An ocean of brine may as well lay before him now.

Chef decided to be kind to the frightened man. Perhaps it was because the goblin was a gentle soul. More likely it was because his greatest fears were confirmed.

Any knowledge he has will be lost forever when I kill him…

The man’s skills weren’t from class levels. Presumably weren’t from skill levels either. Chef would have to actually talk to and learn from the man if he wanted those skills. A sigh escaped him as he looked back at the terrified human before him.

“You tell all cooking knowledge. Show.”

He’d make this as quick as possible, but honestly his hopes were pretty low. The man seemed almost relieved as Chef let himself into the home, ignored all etiquette, and headed straight for the kitchen. The goal was always to show up today and learn some cooking related things, so at least he’d come prepared. There was a little bit of everything in the sack: boar, seasonings, flour, salt, foraged veggies, and even a jug of oil. But he needed some answers for the newest riddle first. Grabbing one of the pans laying around, Chef washed it before putting the curious item into it.

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The father looked at him like a dumb animal too scared to move. It was a natural look for a human, probably instinctual. Pointing down at the white liquid sloshing in the pan, Chef began what was sure to be a long day of talking.

“This milk. You know?”

The man nodded his head violently in response.

“Yes! I’ll show you everything I know!”

Alright, quiet down, man. No need to shout.

Chef complained to himself as his powerful senses gave him a slight headache.

“But the most potent things you can make with milk are cheese and butter. I’ve heard how to make them but never done it. This might take some experimentation.”

Ah. Well, if the man had a starting point, then that was better than nothing.

“We try then. What we need?”

The man began to describe a series of things they’d need for the cheese, items ranging from foraged flower petals to a ceramic bowl with holes. As soon as it got to that point, Chef activated his self defense technique.

“You get bowl from kiln maker. I go get flower. How it look?”

Why do something when you can scare others into doing? For a moment, he felt like he could hear the sounds of Chief laughing at him from far away, but it must have been his imagination.

The man continued to nod violently before describing a flower he called thistle. And then they were off. Chef decided to take the sack with him though, just in case.

He returned a few hours later, walked into the kitchen and dropped the sack. Opening it revealed over a hundred flowers which were certainly not all thistle as the father simply looked between him and the sack.

“Flowers looked same. And you never say how many.”

His senses must have been betraying him because the weak human would never sigh at him. For the sake of his continuing education, Chef decided to believe that.

Seeing the bowl that they’d been given, he could tell that it was easy to make. Thicker than the jugs he’d been given before but thinner than his creations, it looked like any old bowl that had just a few small holes on the bottom. He could make that easily back home.

The father retrieved the largest pot in the home, a true cauldron on par with his own, and Chef began summoning in milk. Once they had a good start, the man complained under his breath.

“If only there were more fat.”

Suddenly it clicked. He could summon two things with Summon Dairy, but they were actually two halves to one thing. Creating a tiny dollop of cream in his hand, he pointed it towards the man who smiled in response.

“Perfect! Can you make, let’s say half a bowl’s worth?”

He did, adding it directly to the cauldron as magical stirring did its work. The man began to provide direction since temperature was apparently critical. Chef used his magic to get the milk to a frothy boil before immediately killing the heat. Then, the father showed him which of the flowers were thistle and they began separating them into another pot. Chef, under direction of course, used Set Temperature and Rise to dry out the flowers. Then, they had to pull the small slender bits out and into another pot. It didn’t take long with his nimble fingers once he knew what to do. Of course, he messed up the first few flowers, but that’s what extras were for.

They grinded the pulled bits, added in warm but not hot water, and then used Rise to save time again. The man pulled out a thin piece of ceramic with incredibly tiny holes in it that he called a strainer and used that to keep back the solid pieces, pouring the liquid into the cauldron.

They brought the milk to a boil a second time before they were forced to simply watch and wait for the curds to separate out. With additional boils and more thistle being necessary, it ended up being over an hour before the father indicated that they were ready to continue.

“And now comes the hard part. Everything from here on is guess work for me.”

And here I thought this was pretty hard already…

Chef lamented to himself, sighing again as he prepared for even more waiting.

Patience, Chef. How hard could it be?