For most people, fried food is synonymous with junk food.
From globally popular American-style burgers to street-side fried skewers, these foods are often seen as high in oil and calories. But in the world of culinary craftsmanship, tempura from the neon-lit streets of Neonova stands as an exception.
Some may dismiss it as "fried junk food," but those who truly understand the art of cooking know that tempura, despite its simple appearance, requires precision.
Everything matters—the freshness of the ingredients, the choice of cooking utensils, the balance of seasoning, and the meticulous control of oil temperature. When done right, tempura is crispy yet light, never greasy. It's in a league of its own, incomparable to street food or even the fried offerings of fast-food giants like McDonald's and KFC.
A Bite of Perfection
Chomp! Crunch!
The sound echoed as Yūki bit into a piece of tempura, her eyes lighting up with delight.
"Wow, it's so crispy!"
She chewed thoughtfully, savoring the contrast between the golden, delicate batter and the soft, flavorful interior.
"As soon as it touches my tongue, the batter crumbles beautifully—crunchy on the outside, tender on the inside. It's fragrant without being greasy, and the oysters even have a hint of natural sweetness."
Intrigued, she picked up another piece with her chopsticks, eager for another bite.
"This is beyond my expectations!"
Satoshi, seated across from her, nodded in agreement as he sampled his tempura.
A high-quality tempura batter should be light, thin, and barely noticeable. The magic lies in how it quickly sets in hot oil, trapping the moisture within and gently steaming the ingredients.
To achieve perfection, the batter and ingredients must strike a delicate balance—oil and water, sweetness and freshness, texture and taste.
And in this aspect, Zane had mastered the craft effortlessly.
His tempura had an exceptionally thin, crisp shell, allowing the natural flavors of the ingredients to shine. It was a level of refinement that even Satoshi, despite his experience, had yet to achieve.
"Strange…" Satoshi muttered, his gaze shifting to Zane, who was calmly preparing more dishes behind the counter.
"This is just a small tavern, right?"
"Then why is the chef's skill so refined… even beyond my own understanding?"
He stared at Zane in astonishment, momentarily lost in thought.
Sometimes, a single dish reveals everything about a chef.
From this tempura alone, Satoshi could see that Zane possessed an unparalleled grasp of technique, using scientific precision and expert temperature control to achieve a texture that was both crispy and rich in natural flavor.
Without exaggeration, this was the best tempura he had ever eaten in his life.
And yet… this remarkable chef was running a mere tavern?
Could it be that true culinary masters preferred to remain hidden in plain sight?
Mastering the Grill
Moving on to the next dish, Zane carefully selected a fresh wild salmon.
After thoroughly washing and patting it dry, he evenly sprinkled a moderate amount of salt over the fish and let it rest for 15 minutes—allowing the seasoning to penetrate the meat.
Then, placing it on the grill, he cooked it over medium heat for eight minutes, turning it constantly to prevent charring.
Finally, he plated the grilled salmon and served it to Satoshi and the others.
As he turned to return to the kitchen—
"Chef, can I trouble you for a moment?"
Zane paused, glancing back at Satoshi, who was looking at him with a sharp, inquisitive gaze.
"I wanted to ask you about the relationship between the smoke point of oil and precise temperature control when frying tempura."
The question was precise, professional—clearly coming from someone with deep culinary knowledge.
Zane smiled slightly, then answered with calm confidence:
"The smoke point of oil refers to the temperature at which it begins to burn and produce smoke. If the oil temperature surpasses this point, oxidation and decomposition occur, affecting the dish's flavor and quality."
"To achieve the perfect balance of crispy and tender tempura, the ideal frying temperature ranges between 150 to 180°C (302 to 356°F). That means you need an oil with a smoke point slightly higher than this range—but not excessively high."
He continued, his voice steady as if explaining a simple fact:
"If the oil's smoke point is too high, experienced chefs can control it just fine. But for those without the proper technique, it becomes difficult to gauge when the oil has reached its limit—resulting in tempura that turns out more like a greasy KFC meal."
At this remark, the entire room fell silent.
Except for Satoshi, whose expression remained unreadable.
The others, however, were stunned.
None of them had realized that the science behind oil's smoke points played such a critical role in making tempura.
Of course, this technique required deep knowledge of different oils, making it challenging to execute properly.
Choosing the Right Oil
After a brief pause, Megumi, ever curious yet hesitant, finally gathered the courage to ask softly:
"Um… what are the smoke points of different oils? And which one is best for tempura?"
Zane responded without hesitation:
• Rapeseed oil → 104–116°C (219–241°F)
• Corn oil → 160°C (320°F)
• Walnut oil → 160°C (320°F)
• White sesame oil → ~210°C (410°F)
• Olive oil → 188°C (370°F)
• Soybean oil → 110–116°C (230–241°F)
"As for the best oil for frying tempura, there are many good options."
He counted them off on his fingers:
• Sesame oil
• Cottonseed oil
• Sunflower seed oil
"Each of these oils works well."
"You can also use camellia oil, corn oil, or soybean oil. However, keep in mind that different pressing methods and levels of refinement will naturally affect the final quality of your tempura."
The conversation continued, but Satoshi remained silent, his mind racing.
He had come here expecting nothing more than a simple celebration.
Yet now, he found himself staring at a hidden culinary genius—one who, despite his skills, chose to run a small tavern rather than seeking the spotlight.
What other secrets lay hidden within this unassuming place?
Satoshi intended to find out.