The three idiots who couldn't become heroes are preparing a man's meal today as well. - Chapter 47

Episode 47: Report 2

Well then, this time has come once again today.

A report.

“Fuuuuuuh…”

After taking a deep breath, I glance at the items on the table.

A hamburger, a bento, a sandwich, and a giant party-sized roasted chicken.

Along with various drinks.

This should be more than enough.

Nodding once in satisfaction, I readjust my seat.

Looking at the date, this report is from a little while ago.

This isn’t good—I shouldn’t keep putting them off… or they’ll just keep piling up.

Thinking that, I open the first page.

Today’s meal: Omurice, as per Shiro-san’s request.

“Why the hell does the report start off with a dish that’s completely different from what I prepared?!”

Before I knew it, I had thrown the report onto the desk.

—

With the number of people in Hearty Eater increasing, the amount of food we cook at one time has also grown.

That means everyone is pretty busy when it’s mealtime.

That said, we’re at home base right now.

There are plenty of hands available, and there are no external threats, so it’s a lot easier than usual.

Since we’re heading for a magic appraisal tomorrow, tonight’s meal is being made with extra care.

In this party, the men generally do the cooking.

Of course, we help out too, but they are the ones who actually cook.

Tonight’s dinner is omurice.

Can a group of such Hearty Eater eaters really be satisfied with that?

That’s what I was wondering—until I realized how wrong I was a few minutes later.

First, the chicken rice filling.

It’s made with monster chicken meat we’ve been eating for a while now.

Great for grilling, great for frying—this chicken meat is delicious no matter how it’s prepared, so it’s a staple ingredient.

I was tasked with frying it in olive oil and wiping off the excess fat as it cooked.

It seemed like a rather tedious process, but apparently, it’s something that can only be done because we have so many people.

When cooking a small portion alone, they don’t go to this extent.

While I was frying the chicken, Kitayama-san was chopping up vegetables and stir-frying them.

Carrots, onions, and green peppers, added to the pan in that order, sizzling deliciously.

Once that was done, it was time for the rice.

Apparently, for fried rice dishes, using freshly cooked rice produces the best results.

Not just for fried rice, but for omurice too.

So, I assumed they would just mix in ketchup with the freshly cooked white rice…

But it seemed they had another step planned.

Kitayama-san was serious today.

“I can’t do anything fancy, but I’ll make a damn good omurice for Shiro.”

With that, he took out finely chopped garlic.

He tossed it into the pan, filling the air with a tantalizing aroma.

As the scent spread, he added the white rice.

Then, the chicken I had been preparing was thrown in as well, and everything was stir-fried together.

Wouldn’t this just end up being fried rice?

Just as I was about to voice my doubts, he pulled something out of his magic bag.

And that was—

“Damn it, why is Airi dragging this out so much? Does she even understand the purpose of a report?”

A stew made from tomatoes harvested from Daikonmaru (Mandrake).

Unlike ketchup, which has been processed through numerous steps, this was simple.

Just tomatoes, boiled in salt water and crushed.

Wouldn’t that make the vegetables taste too bitter or grassy?

That was my concern, but apparently, Mandrake-grown tomatoes are naturally sweet enough to be eaten raw.

So, he removed the rice from the pan and poured in the tomato stew.

A loud sizzle filled the air as the moisture evaporated.

As the mixture started bubbling, revealing chunks of tomato, he added a pat of butter.

Carefully stirring to avoid burning, he then lowered the heat.

And then—

“Tonight, we’re going all out.”

With that, he added something and closed the lid.

What he added was finely chopped mushrooms.

Normally, you’d expect mushrooms like button mushrooms in a dish like this…

But I knew.

Those were truffles.

The high-class ingredient they had secretly been gathering.

And now, they were throwing it into omurice.

“These bastards… such extravagance… and on omurice, no less…”

After a while, once he deemed it ready, he lifted the lid, releasing a rich, elegant aroma into the air.

He added salt, black pepper, and basil, then tasted a small spoonful.

I wanted to try it too.

In that moment, I wanted it so badly.

“Do you not think I feel the same way right now…?”

Satisfied, he nodded and mixed the rice back into the pan, carefully stirring so as not to crush the grains.

At this point, it already looked mouthwatering.

Yet, they added even more—wild vegetables they had foraged from the forest.

Aromatic, colorful, and though I hadn’t tasted it yet, undoubtedly delicious.

At this point, all I could do was groan.

“Ughhhh! Damn it all!”

Once again, I slammed the report onto the table and grabbed the nearest hamburger.

It was good—delicious, even.

But something was missing.

I couldn’t stop salivating.

Fine, let’s continue reading.

With the filling complete, it was time for the “outer layer.”

Tonight, they were using Dashbird eggs.

Kitayama-san cracked open the shell with a swift chop, revealing the massive egg inside.

As expected of a high-class ingredient—no wonder nobles are willing to pay gold coins for it.

The whites gleamed, and the yolk had an almost jewel-like shine.

Using three, no—four eggs, he whisked them thoroughly.

Adding a small amount of salt, mirin, and sake, he continued mixing.

He seemed to be debating whether or not to add milk but ultimately decided against it.

And so, into multiple frying pans lined up in a row, the beaten eggs were poured one after another.

As steam began to rise, Kitayama-san lightly poked at the eggs with his chopsticks.

When I asked what he was doing—

“It sometimes puffs up in certain spots, right? You poke holes in those and press them down. Then, you shake the pan to blend the egg together. That way, it cooks evenly and prevents any parts from burning or staying raw.”

Saying that, he repeated the process—poking and shaking, poking and shaking.

Since this was about serving something delicious to the new members, he was probably putting in extra effort.

I wonder if he’d start making my meals every day from tomorrow.

“Shiro, what sauce do you want on top?”

“Ketchup.”

“Got it. I’ll cook it thoroughly, then.”

Apparently, sauces with a strong salty taste pair well with soft-set eggs, while those with acidic or sweet flavors, like ketchup, go better with firmer eggs.

Amazing. Even the way it’s cooked makes a difference.

I don’t usually cook much myself, so just watching was educational.

Before I knew it, the eggs were being placed atop the chicken rice one after another.

Lastly, after writing messages with ketchup, it was complete.

I heard that when a woman writes with ketchup, it enhances some sort of effect.

They wouldn’t explain further, though.

So, Minami-chan, Shiro-chan, and I all did our best to write something.

I thought about writing everyone’s titles, and when I wrote “Dead Line,” Kitayama-san gave me an incredibly cold look.

“Airi… this is exactly the problem with you.”

With a sigh, I bit into the party’s go-to chicken.

A report that’s supposed to record what we ate and how much we ate—why does it always turn into this?

I flipped the page.

Ahh, now I wanted egg dishes more than anything.

And so, the omurice was complete.

Alongside it was Nishida-san’s soup, and apparently, there was something we’d be “trying” for dessert today.

I couldn’t wait.

After saying “Itadakimasu,” I took a bite of the omurice.

Delicious—there was no other word for it.

Unlike the blue-feathered chicken eggs, these were rich, velvety, and fluffy.

The chicken rice inside had a bold, punchy flavor.

The aroma of garlic, salt, pepper, and truffle was intense.

Yet, the sweetness of the other vegetables, along with the tartness and sweetness of the tomatoes, balanced it out perfectly.

Rich, indulgent, and satisfying.

It was like the best of both worlds—high-end ingredients fused with their signature campfire cooking.

Then came the soup.

With everything cooked in oil, my mouth was beginning to feel a bit heavy.

And that’s when this soup—absolute perfection—came in.

Since it was made with potatoes, I expected it to be rich, but it was surprisingly light.

Compared to the usual potage I drink, it went down smoothly.

I made up my mind—I’d learn how to make this soup next.

As I washed away the oil in my mouth, I eagerly went for another bite of the omurice.

“If it’s all heavy dishes, you’ll get tired of the taste, right? Try eating this in between.”

Kitayama-san pulled out… steamed broccoli with salt.

Was it called stem broccoli? A strangely long and thin variety.

It came with a side of mayonnaise.

“I really like this stuff. Sometimes you just really crave something refreshing.”

“Sounds good. I love this kind of thing too.”

Azuma-san and Nakajima-san reached for some as they spoke.

At first glance, it looked like ordinary salted broccoli… but it was actually harvested from Mandrake’s farm.

Rich, juicy, and bursting with flavor.

It was so good, I felt like I could drink alcohol with just this.

Ahh, no good.

This is bad.

I might not be able to keep doing my receptionist job anymore.

“That’s a no from me.”

Muttering to myself, I shoved more sandwiches into my mouth.

No good—no matter how much I ate, I was still hungry.

And because the food described in the report and the food I had prepared were completely different, I wasn’t feeling satisfied at all.

Ahh, now I really wanted that salted broccoli too.

Thinking that, I turned the page again.

After wrapping up the immensely satisfying meal, just as they were debating whether to make another batch—

Kitayama-san pulled something out.

It was… a “Golden Apple.”