Chapter 99: A Cooking Challenge Begins

Even in the four-person dorm rooms, the cheapest accommodation available, there was a kitchen space for students to use.

Of course, very few students actually used it.

Some students went their entire academic life—from admission to graduation—without ever stepping foot in the dorm kitchen.

One reason for this was the high percentage of noble students.

Back in their family estates, they had been served by professional chefs or household servants.

They had also grown accustomed to extravagant meals and had developed rather picky palates.

Would they suddenly start cooking for themselves now?

Some might try chopping a few ingredients out of curiosity or for the experience, but once they tasted their own creations, they would immediately give up.

Besides, the academy had a student cafeteria, which served as a perfect alternative.

The exorbitant tuition fees ensured that a significant portion of the budget was allocated to the cafeteria.

This budget was used to procure top-quality ingredients and hire first-rate chefs.

Additionally, there were meal tickets that provided further financial support to the cafeteria.

So, given the choice, would a noble student eat a questionable dish they cooked themselves, or a gourmet meal prepared by a professional chef?

Even aside from nobles, wealthy merchant children also relied on the cafeteria.

And commoner students who received scholarships also tended to eat there.

The only ones who regularly used the dorm kitchen were probably students like me—without financial support, or those who genuinely loved cooking.

For the record, I had never had a choice in the matter.

Celian had dragged me to the cafeteria so often that I never had the chance to cook for myself.

Looking back, I was actually grateful for that.

Otherwise, I probably would have survived on flour, sugar, and salt, convincing myself I was saving money.

Now, I couldn’t even imagine eating such bland food.

But back then, I had been so used to eating tasteless meals that it never bothered me.

Thinking about it now, just imagining a salted flour paste made my stomach churn.

Comparing it to something like cake, which was made from the same flour but prepared properly, only made the idea even worse.

That said, I sometimes wondered if I was spending too much on food these days.

But so what?

Now that I was the Hero, tuition was no longer a concern.

Considering the past ten years of my life, I deserved to enjoy at least this much.

“Alright!”

Standing in the dorm kitchen, I pulled out one of the meat cuts we had bought the day before.

No matter what dish I made, meat was essential.

I quietly began cutting the meat into large chunks.

Of course, I wasn’t alone.

The others were also busy preparing their own dishes.

Anne was cutting meat just like me.

Celian was preparing vegetables.

Yuri was already cooking something on the stove.

Each of us was focused on our own recipes.

The surprising part was that we weren’t working together.

When we had bought the ingredients yesterday, none of us had imagined it would turn into this.

But there was no deep reason behind it.

It all started when Anne had latched onto my pajama pants the night before, begging to have a cooking competition.

And now, here we were—preparing our own individual dishes, both for fun and to compare our cooking skills before making our actual lunches.

I turned my attention back to my own dish.

I was making meat pie.

Thanks to the cookbooks I had read at the library, I had already memorized the recipe.

After chopping the meat, I diced the carrots and onions into similar sizes.

Of course, meat was the priority, so I kept the vegetable portions small.

I would make up for the lack of vegetables by adding more meat, which would definitely improve the flavor.

Since Anne loved sweet things, I decided to add extra sugar as well.

This was my own take on the dish.

It wasn’t that I didn’t respect the cookbook, but if this was a cooking competition, I needed my dish to stand out.

So I added extra ingredients that seemed delicious, and left out anything that didn’t.

The filling was now complete.

It was rich brown in color, packed with chunks of meat.

There was no way it wouldn’t taste amazing.

Now, all that was left was to make the pie crust.

I mixed flour and butter, recalling the cookbook’s instructions.

But since we never used this kitchen, we had no measuring scales or teaspoons.

I just eyeballed the amounts based on feel.

Once the dough was ready, the book mentioned that it needed to be chilled in the refrigerator.

…But who had time for that?

Skipping one minor step wouldn’t ruin the dish.

I rolled out the dough and placed it in the pie tin.

Then, I poured in the filling, covering it with another layer of dough.

Finally, I placed the pie in the oven and set the temperature and timer.

Now all I had to do was wait.

With some free time, I glanced around the kitchen.

Anne was still grilling meat, just as she had been earlier.

Even after I had finished my prep, she was still grilling.

Looking at her plate, I saw a mountain of perfectly cooked meat.

…I liked meat too, but Anne might be going overboard.

Next, I checked on Yuri.

She was already plating her finished dish.

Her food looked so professional that it could have been mistaken for a chef’s work.

It seemed like Yuri would be my biggest rival in this competition.

Turning my attention to Celian, I looked around the kitchen.

But she was nowhere to be found.

“Huh? Does anyone know where Celian went?”

Maybe she had gone to the restroom.

But if that were the case, her dish should still be here—yet I couldn’t see it anywhere.

“Hmm? Oh, she was mumbling something about not having enough heat, and then she took everything and left.”

I had only planned to worry about Yuri, but did Celian also have some secret cooking skills?

Maybe she had gone to borrow the academy cafeteria’s kitchen.

However, as I opened a window to let in some fresh air, I spotted something unexpected.

However, as I happened to glance outside, I spotted Celian in the middle of the park.

She had set up a campfire, placed a large cauldron over it, and was vigorously stirring something inside.

She even handled the fire expertly, ensuring that no sparks scattered—her skill level was almost professional.

…What on earth was she doing out there?

“Alright! Now we’ll taste each other’s dishes, give our impressions, and then vote for the best one—excluding our own!”

Laid out on the table were all the dishes we had prepared.

• Anne’s steak
• Yuri’s course meal
• Celian’s stew
• My meat pie

“Let’s start with Anne’s dish first.”

Each of us—including Anne herself—took a piece of her steak onto our plates.

She had made so many that we could easily have taken whole portions instead.

I sliced a piece with my knife and put it into my mouth.

“Hmm…”

“This is…”

“It’s good, right? I mean, it’s meat! How could it not be delicious?”

Anne grinned, looking completely confident.

However, unlike her enthusiastic reaction, Yuri and Celian’s expressions were somewhat mixed.

“There’s no sauce, and you just grilled the meat. I wouldn’t even call this cooking.”

“The cooking is inconsistent, too. Each piece is done differently, so it’s hard to judge properly.”

“W-What?!”

Anne looked shocked at their unexpected criticism.

She turned to me—her last hope.

“…I think it’s good, though?”

Like I said earlier, meat is always right.

Of course, if you compared it to a steak made by a professional chef, it had its flaws.

But since she had used good-quality meat, the basic flavor was solid.

That was enough for me to enjoy it.

“Alright! Now it’s my turn!”

Next up was Yuri’s course meal.

She introduced her dish with a voice brighter than usual.

Even though we all had the same amount of time, Yuri had somehow managed to prepare multiple dishes.

She had even plated them beautifully, making them almost too pretty to eat.

“Hm… As expected of Yuri. I knew you’d be good, but this is beyond what I imagined.”

“Wow! This is amazing! Yuri, can I have more?”

“I made plenty, so eat as much as you want.”

Celian and Anne praised her food immediately.

I was the last to try it.

…Damn it.

I knew she would be my toughest rival, and her food was seriously delicious.

Honestly, some restaurants might have to close down if they had to compete with Yuri’s cooking.

“It’s good… Definitely worthy of being my rival.”

“…Wait, was that a compliment?”

For some reason, Yuri sounded uncertain as she responded.

But before I could ask what she meant, Celian spoke up.

“Now, it’s my turn. Everyone, try it.”

She ladled her stew into each of our bowls.

From appearance and smell alone, it already seemed good enough to pass.

I scooped up a spoonful—making sure to include a piece of meat—and took a bite.

“Hmm… This meat isn’t high quality, is it?”

Yuri was the first to comment, starting with criticism.

She was right.

There were better cuts available, yet for some reason, Celian had chosen to use lower-grade meat.

“But Celian’s cooking skills are so good that the difference is barely noticeable unless you’re really sensitive to it.”

Since she had stewed it thoroughly, the meat was tender rather than chewy, and the flavors had fully soaked in.

“How is it…?”

After Yuri’s critique, Celian turned to me for my opinion.

“This is really good. It’s exactly my kind of flavor.”

“Of course! It’s a dish you used to love.”

“…Huh? A dish I used to love?”

“A-Ah, no! I mean… It’s a dish made with ingredients you like!”

Come to think of it, the ingredients did match my preferences perfectly.

Maybe that’s why I liked it so much.

But beyond just being tasty, there was something else about it—a feeling I couldn’t quite explain.

It was a dish I had never eaten before, yet somehow, it felt nostalgic.

Yuri’s food was undeniably delicious, but… I think I had already made my choice.

With everyone’s dishes tasted, only one remained.

Mine.

Heh… Now it’s time for the star of the show.

As I presented my meat pie, I noticed Celian gulping—her expression tense.

She must have been looking forward to it.

Even Yuri looked somewhat overwhelmed, struggling to find words.

And then, there was Anne.

“…Do we have to eat this?”

…?