Who Is the World’s Strongest Appraiser? ~Living in Another World With Satisfying Meals~

Please Enjoy Various Flavors Of Chawanmushi

“So, what’s chawanmushi?”

“It’s a dish from my hometown—you mix ingredients into egg liquid and steam it. The texture’s kinda like pudding.”

“Huh? A snack?”

“Nah, a side dish.”

The one asking Yuuri, who was clattering a bowl while mixing a large amount of eggs, was Yakk, who was also mixing eggs in a bowl. The reason the two of them were endlessly mixing eggs was simply that they needed that many. To make chawanmushi, you need eggs, and furthermore, it’s better if they’re thoroughly mixed.

At Yuuri’s analogy, Yakk made a puzzled face. Indeed, if you’re told the texture is like pudding, you’d imagine pudding in your mind and lose track of the actual flavor. But still, Yuuri’s explanation wasn’t wrong. Chawanmushi and pudding are quite similar in how they’re made, and their textures are alike too.

The only differences are the seasoning and that chawanmushi has ingredients in it. Probably. Huh? Not really? Well, eggs + dashi = chawanmushi, eggs + milk/sugar = pudding. Probably.

“You season it with eggs and dashi, put in various ingredients, and steam it. Just changing the seasoning makes it fun and delicious.”

“Huh. But calling something with a pudding-like texture a side dish is kinda hard to grasp.”

“Hmm, but I can’t think of anything else closer to it.”

In modern Japan, you could compare it to egg tofu, but unfortunately, this other world doesn’t have egg tofu. Regular tofu exists, though. So Yuuri couldn’t think of any other food to use for comparison.

That said, despite saying he didn’t get it, Yakk was a good kid who diligently mixed the eggs as Yuuri instructed. Or maybe it was just his trust in Yuuri’s cheerful cooking—after all, “delicious” is justice.

The key to making chawanmushi is whisking the eggs thoroughly. Carefully prepare them so the whites and yolks mix well. Especially the whites—if you don’t cut them properly, they won’t blend evenly.

“Once you’re done mixing, next is straining it through a sieve.”

“Does this do anything?”

“It makes the texture smoother.”

“Huh.”

Yuuri cheerfully smiled as he prepared a fine-mesh sieve over an empty bowl. Then, he dumped the whisked eggs into it. Lifting the sieve, you could see the egg dripping through the mesh into the bowl below.

Once most of it had passed through, a thick residue remained on the sieve—unmixed egg whites. You could use it as-is, but removing these lumps makes the chawanmushi even smoother.

“Whoa… I thought I mixed it well, but this much is left.”

“Yep. What’s left on the sieve gets tossed.”

“Got it.”

“Well, in our case, Roo-chan will eat it.”

“Kyukyuu?”

Rooks peeked its head into the kitchen as if to say, “You called?” Beckoned by Yuuri, it happily waddled over. The clever slime never enters the kitchen while cooking unless called.

Asked to clean the sieve, Rooks gleefully absorbed it into its translucent body, rolling it around inside. After a while, it spat it out, and Yuuri rinsed it thoroughly before resuming the straining process.

Sieves are annoying to wash by hand, so having Rooks clean them is a huge help. It might not be a familiar’s proper job, but neither Rooks nor Yuuri minds—teamwork makes the dream work, after all.

“Once the eggs are ready, mix them with the pre-made dashi. The key here is to make sure the dashi is fully cooled first.”

“Why?”

“If you add eggs to something hot, they’ll cook instead of mixing.”

“Ah.”

Yakk imagined adding beaten eggs to hot soup and realized it’d become a different dish. He understood now—cutting corners here wasn’t an option.

Today, they prepared four types of dashi: Japanese-style, chicken bone, pork bone, and consommé—all using alchemy-pot-made granulated dashi. Just dissolve in hot water for easy prep.

Sure, making dashi from scratch might taste better, but for this many people, it’d take forever. In daily cooking, using convenient stuff is just smart. Probably.

While chawanmushi usually brings to mind kombu-and-bonito dashi, it doesn’t have to be limited to that. You can go Chinese-style, seafood-style, even Western-style with consommé. The possibilities with ingredients and dashi are endless—that’s chawanmushi.

Pour the strained eggs into the dashi-filled bowls, mix well, and watch the bright yellow eggs lighten as the dashi blends in.

“Yuuri, what’s next after mixing everything?”

“We pour it into cups, but first, we add the ingredients.”

Since they’d steam them in pots later, they prepared sturdy cups. Making individual servings would require too many, so this time, they went with big bowls—two of each type.

The ingredients varied per dashi type for better pairing. In truth, chawanmushi’s seasoning and ingredients differ by household or restaurant, so this wasn’t wrong.

For Japanese dashi: white fish, shiitake, carrot, and mitsuba garnish. For chicken bone: chicken (well, Cooky monster meat), carrot, mitsuba, and shimeji mushrooms. Pork bone: bite-sized orc meatballs, carrot, and enoki. Consommé: carrot, asparagus, and diced bacon.

“…I still can’t imagine how these taste.”

“Ahaha. Well, nothing weird’s in there, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Smiling, Yuuri placed the filled cups into large pots with a few centimeters of water at the bottom—just plain water for steaming. The water level was about halfway up the cups.

While chawanmushi is often associated with steamers, you can make it in a regular pot. Boiling water creates steam to cook it. The trick is wrapping the lid in cloth to prevent condensation from dripping in. (No aluminum foil in this world, so cloth it is.)

As he worked, Yuuri added a small test cup of simple Japanese dashi chawanmushi. Seeing Yakk’s confusion, he smiled and said it was for tasting—better than digging into the main servings.

“Now we just heat it up.”

“Okay!”

“We’ll check it midway, but let’s prep other dishes in the meantime.”

“Got it!”

While the chawanmushi simmered, Yuuri and Yakk worked on side dishes. By the time they finished, the chawanmushi was ready.

Lifting the lid revealed wobbly, pale yellow custards. Testing with a skewer showed they were perfectly cooked—no liquid seeped out. The test cup was also done, so Yuuri carefully removed it with gloves (fingerless mitts were the guild’s preference—easier to work with).

Placing it on a dish, Yuuri scooped a spoonful of the trembling chawanmushi. Yakk watched, realizing it really did move like pudding.

“Ah—hot, hot…!”

Even after cooling, the fresh chawanmushi was scalding. Huffing, Yuuri managed to eat it—smooth texture thanks to straining, with a mild Japanese flavor. His bite had carrot, tender and sweet.

“Yakk, be careful—it’s hot.”

“Got it.”

Yakk, curious from Yuuri’s enjoyment, eagerly took a spoonful, blew on it, and ate. The pudding-like texture contrasted with the savory dashi aroma, making him imagine clear soup. Not entirely wrong.

His bite had white fish, melting softly with the egg. It slid down his throat effortlessly.

“…Ah.”

Yakk frowned at how quickly it vanished. Meant to savor it, he’d swallowed it in seconds. Well, chawanmushi is easy to eat—some treat it like a drink. Like pudding fans do.

Glancing at Yuuri, who smiled and nodded, Yakk brightened and happily finished the cup. Yuuri didn’t mind sharing the test portion if it made him this happy.

“Good?”

“Really good!”

“Texture’s like pudding, right?”

“Kinda, but it slides down easier!”

“Maybe ’cause it’s not sweet.”

Their chat was light. Clearly, Yakk loved his first chawanmushi. That was what mattered.

Come dinner, the group eyed the unfamiliar dish curiously—except one. Yakumo. His usual calm eyes widened, then he grinned.

“Ah, Yakumo-san, I recommend this one—kombu dashi.”

“Oh?”

“Probably closest to your hometown’s taste. The others are chicken, pork, or consommé.”

“I see. Then I’ll have that.”

“Here.”

The others didn’t get their exchange, but after Yuuri explained the flavors, everyone picked their preferred type. Yakk summed it up as: “Different tastes, but texture’s like pudding—slides right down.” (Yuuri did clarify it’s steamed egg and dashi, though.)

No one refused the strange dish—the ingredients were simple: eggs, dashi, and add-ins. Nothing suspicious.

…Predictably, Magg waited by the Japanese-style chawanmushi, behaving only because Yuuri held the serving spoon. Otherwise, he’d have piled his plate high. The dashi fanatic was, as always, laser-focused.

“Still, I knew you could vary ingredients, but changing the seasoning this much is bold.”

“Back home, there are tons of variations. One funny story was someone trying to make sweet chawanmushi—ended up with warm pudding.”

“How amusing.”

“Yeah, thinking about it, that’s what it’d be.”

Yakumo laughed with Yuuri as the others dug in. He held the recommended Japanese-style cup (Magg, meanwhile, piled his plate to the brim—no surprises).

Yuuri chose consommé—carrot, asparagus, and bacon paired nicely with egg, the bacon’s umami shining.

“Indeed, this resembles my homeland’s dish.”

“Thought so.”

“At home, we used meat and shrimp instead of fish.”

“I see.”

“And lily root or ginkgo nuts.”

“Ah, those are good. Couldn’t find any here, though.”

“Hmm. Ginkgo also makes a good snack. I’ll buy some if I see any.”

“Please do.”

Somehow, a strange alliance formed over dinner.

Yakumo, from a Japan-like culture, loved Yuuri’s “Japanese” dishes. Not that he complains about other meals, but finding hometown-like flavors far away delighted him.

One problem, though:

Yuuri’s “Japanese” food was shaped by modern Japan’s culinary chaos. Some were fusion, others outright Western. Still, Yakumo loved the rustic meals reminiscent of grandma’s cooking.

“Yuuri, Yuuri!”

“Hm? What’s up, Yakk?”

“These meatballs are amazing!”

Yakk beamed, eating pork-bone chawanmushi with minced orc meatballs. His genuine joy made Yuuri smile.

Overall, chawanmushi was a hit. The “pudding-like texture” description made sense once eaten. People compared flavors, finding favorites.

“…By the way, Magg. No seconds until everyone’s had some.”

“…?”

“Don’t give me that look. You’d eat it all if I said yes, right?”

“One more.”

“There are two bowls for everyone! Not one just for you!”

“…Fine.”

Magg pointed at the untouched Japanese chawanmushi, but Yuuri stood firm. The dashi fanatic, while extreme, oddly waited until everyone had eaten before hogging. Some unwritten rule, perhaps.

“Magg.”

“…?”

“If you like it, ask Yuuri to teach you later. Chawanmushi isn’t hard. Make it yourself, and there’s no issue.”

“Okay.”

“…Ah, sure. I’ll teach you after cleanup.”

“Thanks.”

Magg leaned in eagerly, and Yuuri nodded, impressed by Yakumo’s redirect. Magg had gotten great at making dashi, after all. Maybe steering him that way worked.

…Yakumo, meanwhile, sneakily took seconds of Japanese chawanmushi when Magg wasn’t looking. The sorcerer was low-key thrilled by the taste of home.