Lus stepped into the kitchen. With some extra time on his hands, he was ready to try out one of his new [Recipes]. He called up his screen and clicked on the [Recipe] tab.
[Beginner’s Luck Soup]
[Tasty Buns]
[Galloping Scallops]
“Who named these?” he asked, chuckling to himself. If the buns and scallops were anything like the soup, they would also give him a bonus, but the names weren’t exactly helpful. Luckily Lus knew someone who could help with that.
Lusac walked up to the interbox and tapped the screen.
“Hey, Leviathan. I’ve got a question for you,” he called out.
The normal home screen popped up, displaying the usual collection of unreadable recipes and notes from deceased Chef Wlnp.
“Leviathan,” Lusac chided. Did the Demon have to be so blasted stubborn?
The screen went black and then a red, cartoon face revealed itself.
“What is it?” Leviathan growled.
“I have a question.”
“If it’s about the system, you’re supposed to figure it out yourself,” the Demon replied.
“Come on. I need a hint,” Lus pleaded. “How do I know what powers the [Recipes] give me?”
The rhombus eyes squinted as the jagged mouth below them turned into a grin.
“Okay. I’ll give you a hint. Level up your [Common Sense],” Leviathan said.
“What? What does [Common Sense] have to do with anything?” Lusac asked.
The Demon continued to smirk. “Level it up, and you’ll figure it out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of a delightful nap.”
“Wait a second. That wasn’t a good hint. I demand an answer, Leviathan,” Lus shouted, but it was too late. The red face blinked out of existence, leaving only the useless recipes.
“Unbelievable,” Lus muttered to himself. He turned back to his small collection of [Recipes], still unsure which of the two new ones to try.
“Well, I don’t think we have any scallops right now,” he said thoughtfully. “So… buns it is.”
He clicked the [Recipe] and scrolled past the long paragraphs about the history of the meal. At the bottom, he found the ingredients list.
“Warm water, yeast, sugar, baking fat, salt, flour for the bread… oh, there’s a filling.”
Lus had never had bread with something in the middle, but it sounded delicious. “Dried darres, fresh nabras, adol nuts, sugared milk, and simanin,” he read aloud. They had just stopped for supplies, so he had plenty of fresh and dried fruit. But with such a sweet filling, he probably needed to make something else with it to provide a proper dinner.
“I can just cook some kechin meat,” he said thoughtfully. He’d made sure they got more, so they had enough for him to cook it for several meals, and now that he was a bit more familiar with seasonings, he felt comfortable just pan frying it.
Because he knew the buns would take the most time, he started with that. He grabbed his largest bowl and added all the warm water. The sugar went in next, followed by the yeast. He hadn’t ever used yeast before, so he wrinkled his nose at the strange smell.
He stirred it all together, then began searching through the cupboards for baking fat. He knew he had seen it at some point, but he’d never used it.
Lus found it in the cupboard next to the seasonings with canned sauces, fruits, and vegetables. Thankfully, the container was nearly full, so he had more than enough to add to his dough. It was white and a lot thicker than he expected. He had to scoop it into his measuring dish with a metal spoon and press it down.
The shortening didn’t really mix in. He mashed it up a bit so at least there were just small bits floating around instead of one large lump, then he decided to leave it.
The flour bucket was in its usual place under one of the counters. He hauled it out and began measuring it into the wet mixture. He’d added about half when he glanced up at the recipe and realized he’d forgotten the salt.
He quickly scooped in the rest of the flour and grabbed the salt. He dumped it on top of the flour, then began stirring. The dough was too thick to stir with a spoon, so he soon gave up and plunged his hands in.
Lusac had expected to be grossed out, but the feel of the dough coming together in his hands was surprisingly calming. He pulled and mixed and squished it together, making sure to incorporate all the flour.
When it was finally done he pulled the recipe down to the next step. He needed it to raise under a damp cloth until it had doubled in size.
“How long will that take?” he wondered aloud. Shrugging, he washed his hands, scrubbing hard to get off all the bits of dough stuck between his fingers and under his nails.
Once his hands were clean, Lus pulled a large, thin towel out of the closet with all the towels and aprons and dampened it in the sink, then spread it over the top of the bowl. He moved the bowl off to the side and turned his attention to the filling.
He found dried darres in the cupboard with all the miscellaneous stuff that didn’t belong with the seasonings or the canned goods. They were pretty old and tough, but he hoped that they’d soften as he mixed them with the rest of the filling.
Placing them on a cutting board, he chopped them into smaller pieces before scooping them into another large bowl.
The nabra fruit came next. He first used a slicer to core the fruits and cut them into eight fairly even slices. He then used a knife to carefully cut off the thick, green outer skin. The paler green flesh inside was soft, making it hard to remove the skin.
When he had finished skinning them and chopping them up, he had to wash all the sweet, sticky nabra juice off his hand. He also threw the cutting board and knife in the sink and got out dry ones for the adol nuts.
The small, round nuts were tan. They had a soft, nutty flavor. He had a hard time chopping them up, since them kept rolling away from the knife, but he eventually managed to cut them down into reasonably small bits.
The nuts joined the nabra and darres in the bowl and he lifted the towel to peek at the dough. It had risen nearly to the top of the bowl. He smiled at the sign that he had made it correctly.
“Not too much longer,” Lusac said, turning his attention back to the filling. He pulled out ten small cans of sugared milk and opened them, then poured the thick, cream colored liquid into the bowl.
Licking off the spoon after he scooped out the last one, he savored the sweet taste. The cans went in the metal recycler and the spoon in the sink.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Lus grabbed a new spoon to stir the filling together. When he finished, he checked the dough again. It had risen to the top of the bowl and was pushing the towel up, so he decided it was done.
Following the [Recipe] instructions, he punched the dough down and tipped it out onto a floured counter. He left it for a few minutes as he got some sheet pans out for the rolls to bake on and preheated the oven.
As he stepped back in front of the mountain of dough, he checked the recipe. Each roll had to be put together individually, so it was a good thing he’d gotten an early start. He sprinkled some flour on the counter and pulled off a small handful of dough.
Rolling it into a ball, he set it in the middle of the flour and used the heavy rolling pin to flatten it. Unlike the pasta, it only took a few rounds of rolling to flatten the dough. Once he had it ready, he took a large spoonful of the filling and plopped it in the center.
Lus wrapped the dough around the filling, pressing the edges together. It was really easy, and he decided he should add more filling to the others. He placed his first roll on a baking sheet with the edges down and set to work on the next.
He put too much filling in the second roll, so it was very difficult to get it closed. The third roll was just right, about one and a half spoonfuls of the sticky, sweet filling.
When he had twenty rolls on the large baking sheet, he set them aside to rise a bit and began filling the next. The work went surprisingly quickly as he fell into a rhythm. It was even more relaxing than making pasta.
When he finished filling the second baking sheet, the first sheet of rolls looked ready to bake, so he slid it into the oven. He set a timer and began working on the third sheet. He was going to get over 80 rolls, from the looks of it, which would hopefully be enough to fill the crew.
The timer went off just as he finished the third sheet of rolls. He set it aside and pulled out the finished rolls. They looked golden brown and smelled like the bakery he had visited once on Pragtin, a favored stop of the Argo. Putting them on a far counter to cool, he slid the second tray in and moved the third tray over to rise.
He finished the fourth tray and did the same thing, moving the second out of the oven to cool next to the first, the third into the oven, and the fourth to rise. Lus looked at the dough and filling, trying to figure out how much he had left. It looked like almost enough to fill the fifth tray, so he set to work.
The dough ran out when he was just two rolls shy of filling the fifth tray, but somehow he still had filling left over. He scooped it into a small bowl and threw it into the interbox. He could find a use for it later.
He shifted the trays again, then pulled out the raw kechin meat that he was planning to cook to go with the rolls. He originally planned to cook them on the stove, but he was starting to think that it would be better to bake them.
Lus checked the stack of baking sheets. He still had five large ones left. He would need to fit about ten kechin breasts on each tray, but that seemed feasible enough. And he had found a little reference book tucked in the back of the cupboard of canned goods that included how to cook different meats.
Kechin needed to bake for about twenty minutes. Thankfully, there was a second oven that would hold three trays, and he could put the other two in after.
Lus started by laying out all five baking sheets so he could just get all the kechin out right away. He then mixed salt, peppin, pasil, and harvic in a small bowl and poured it on a plate next to the trays.
Finally it was time to start the kechin. He had just opened the box when the timer went off. With a sigh, he washed his hands and then removed the next tray of buns from the oven.
The last tray went in and he set to work on the kechin. He broke open the box and grabbed the first breast of meat. It was pink, slimy, and cold. He laid it on the plate of seasonings, then flipped it, coating both sides.
He had to take a break in the middle of laying out the kechin when the timer for the last tray of buns went off. He washed his hands again and pulled it out, placing it next to the others.
[Cooking Complete]
[XP Gained: 100]
He smiled, but he didn’t have time to celebrate. The meat was very much still raw, and his time was running out. He returned to the counter with the kechin and seasonings, falling back into the same rhythm as before.
When he had all five trays filled, the meat packed together, he slid four trays into the large oven and the last into the spare oven.
Lus set a timer for 20 minutes and glanced up at the clock. That would give him just enough time to get the food set up on the serving table in the dining room.
He stepped over to the cooling buns and carefully pulled one off the first tray. It was completely cool and about the size of his fist. He took a small bite and got just the bread. He followed it up with another, larger bite to taste the filling.
He groaned as the sweet blend of flavors hit his tongue. This was probably what food on Quosh tasted like. The thick, fruity filling and the soft, chewy bread melded into a delicious symphony.
He savored the rest of the bun, shoving the last bite in at the sound of the timer for the kechin.
Grabbing the thermometer from one of the drawers, he pulled out one of the pans and stuck the metal stick into the center kechin breast. He watched the numbers tick up, biting his lip as they slowed well below the safe temperature for cooked poultry.
“Blast it!” He tossed the pan back into the oven and set a timer for another five minutes. He glanced at the clock and ran a hand through his hair. He needed the kechin to cook quickly if he wanted to have dinner on the serving table in time.
While the timer ticked down, he grabbed the trays of buns and began carrying them into the dining room. The serving table was large, but there wasn’t enough room for ten trays of food.
Lus looked at it for a bit, then began moving the buns. With two layers, he managed to get them onto just two trays. He returned the final three to the kitchen just as the timer went off again.
He pulled out the thermometer and checked again. While closer, the kechin breasts were still not completely cooked through.
Putting them back in, he cranked up the oven. He really needed this meat to finish cooking as quickly as possible.
Finally, just as he heard the hum of voices begin to fill the dining room, the timer went off again. He pulled out the middle tray and slid the thermometer into one of the center breasts, watching anxiously as the numbers ticked up.
When they reached above what he was looking for, he breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly carried it out to the serving table, then stopped short as he realized that he didn’t have anything to set it on.
Spinning carefully, he glanced at the crewmembers beginning to line up and called, “Sorry, I’ll be right back. I just have a few more pans to bring out.”
Setting the pan on the oven, he grabbed heat protectors and carried them out to the serving table, laying them out in five groups of two.
Soon, he had all five pans of kechin on the table with the rolls at the far end. He surveyed his work proudly for a moment before realizing that there were no dishes.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said again as he ran back into the kitchen. Thankfully, the crowd’s murmuring hadn’t taken on an edge of anger when he returned with a stack of plates and a container of forks. He dropped them at the end of the table and watched the line begin moving through.
Everyone looked with mild interest at the kechin as they slid a breast onto their plate. Then they stepped down to the mounds of rolls and their faces lit with smiles.
Lus just hoped the smiles lasted into the tasting phase of the meal.
He was the last person in line, as per his usual. He grabbed one of the kechin breasts and two of the few remaining rolls.
He slid in across from Becky and frowned. She had finished her rolls and was eating the kechin, but she had a strange look on her face.
“Is something wrong with it?” he asked nervously.
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so, but… try it.”
Lus cut off a small piece with his fork and stuck it in his mouth. As he chewed, he felt confidence, then crippling anxiety, which mellowed into soothing relief. He swallowed and looked down at the kechin in surprise.
“Did you feel that too? That was… weird.”
Becky nodded. “Yeah. Uh, what exactly did you put in this kechin?”
“Just some seasonings,” he answered, thinking back over the last couple hours he’d spent in the kitchen. His might paused on the name of the buns. [Tasty Buns].
If [Beginner’s Luck Soup] gave the entire crew luck, did that mean that the buns gave everyone… taste?
“Well, it tastes pretty good once you get past the weirdness,” Becky said, taking another bite.
Lus followed suit, trying to ignore the wave of emotions and focus on the flavors on his tongue. She was right. The kechin was pretty good!
He breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the dining room. Other crewmembers seemed to be looking just as confused as Becky, so they probably all were experiencing the strange feelings when they ate the kechin.
He quickly realized that it must be related to the name of the [Recipe]. And Leviathan thought he needed more [Common Sense] to figure it out. He’d sure showed that Demon up.
“I’d better not make system recipes for the whole crew anymore,” he muttered. It wasn’t worth the risk of something strange happening to everyone. He could just make a small change, though, like when he made the soup without kechin, and it wouldn’t affect everyone.
“I’ll just do that,” he decided in a whisper.
“Are you talking to me?” Becky asked around a mouthful of tasty bun.
“Oh no, just talking to myself,” he answered with a sheepish smile.
She just nodded and went back to her food, leaving him to finish his kechin and [Tasty Buns].