Color.
Aroma.
Taste.
A great dish should have all three.
But the Burgundy red wine beef stew in front of them was different. It was dark—almost black. Visually, it wasn't appealing, lacking the elegance one might expect from French cuisine. Yet, the aroma of red wine blended perfectly with the rich, savory scent of slow-cooked beef, creating an irresistible temptation.
"Is this… the most traditional way to make Burgundy red wine beef stew?" Megumi murmured, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.
French Cuisine: A Balance Between Sophistication and Home Cooking
When people think of French cuisine, words like elegance, sophistication, and fine dining often come to mind. Delicacies such as foie gras, caviar, and truffles dominate the image of high-class French cooking. Every detail, from plating to presentation, is crafted with artistic precision.
But traditional French cuisine isn't all about luxury. There is another side to it—hearty, comforting country dishes that have stood the test of time.
Burgundy red wine beef stew was one such dish.
Centuries ago, it was a simple home-cooked meal for farmers, a way to tenderize tough cuts of beef by slow-cooking them in red wine. Over time, its deep, complex flavors turned it into a beloved classic, proving that true culinary excellence doesn't always require extravagance.
Megumi, who had grown up mastering traditional countryside cooking, felt a strange sense of familiarity as she stared at the steaming dish. Without hesitation, she picked up her fork, cut a small piece of beef, and placed it into her mouth.
A Taste of the Past
There was no dramatic shock.
No overpowering sensation.
Just a deep, lingering warmth that spread from her tongue to her heart.
She chewed slowly, her mind suddenly drifting back to her childhood.
A small port town in northern Japan.
A harsh winter, snow piling up outside the windows.
And the warm, comforting aroma of food filling her family's inn—Shōkeien Ryokan.
She could still remember that day.
Twelve years old, freshly accepted into Totsuki. She had been too excited about her future, barely paying attention to the farewell meal her mother had made for her. At the time, she hadn't thought much of it.
But now…
The flavors from this dish brought back everything.
That gentle warmth.
That deep, reassuring taste.
That feeling of home.
Tears welled up in Megumi's eyes before she could stop them.
"Mom… this is Mom's flavor…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Whether it was the stress of her looming expulsion or the nostalgia stirred by the dish, she couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. The memory of her mother's cooking, the weight of expectations, the fear of failure—everything flooded back at once.
And in the dim glow of the tavern, Megumi burst into quiet tears.
A Silent Understanding
Zane didn't say anything.
He simply stood behind the counter, watching her reaction with calm eyes. He had seen this before—the way a single dish could reach deep into someone's soul, unlocking memories they didn't even realize they had buried.
To many, Zane's cooking had a warmth that no extravagant gourmet meal could replicate. And though Megumi's culinary style was different from his, she, too, had a deep emotional connection to food—one that she had yet to fully embrace.
She just needed a push.
Yuuki and Ryoko, sitting beside her, exchanged surprised glances. Watching Megumi cry over a meal left them at a loss for words.
"Uh… is it really that good?" Yuuki hesitated before taking a bite herself.
The moment the beef touched her tongue, she immediately understood.
Rich. Velvety.
The deep umami of slow-cooked meat infused with the tannins of the red wine, breaking down its fibers to create a melt-in-your-mouth tenderness.
The slight bitterness of the wine, balanced by the natural sweetness of caramelized onions and root vegetables.
The broth, thick and glossy, carrying layers of depth—earthy mushrooms, smoky bacon, aromatic herbs, and the faintest hint of garlic.
It was a dish that didn't just fill the stomach.
It wrapped around the heart.
Before she knew it, Yuuki had slowed down, savoring each bite. Even Ryoko, who was usually composed, had a dreamy look on her face as she chewed.
The tavern, once lively with chatter, fell silent.
The only sounds left were the soft clinks of cutlery and the occasional murmur of satisfaction.
A Meal to Remember
Megumi was the first to finish.
She carefully scooped up the remaining sauce, mixing it with mashed potatoes to soak up every last drop.
"Phew… that was amazing," she sighed, finally feeling a sense of calm wash over her.
Then, realization struck her.
She had just cried in front of the owner.
Flustered, she quickly wiped her tears and turned to Zane.
"Master… I-I embarrassed myself in front of you!" she stammered, feeling her face heat up.
Zane, still composed as ever, simply chuckled.
"There's no shame in being moved by food," he said. "That's what good cooking should do."
Megumi looked down at her empty plate, her heart still pounding.
For the first time in a long while, she felt something she hadn't felt since coming to Totsuki.
Confidence.
Maybe… she wasn't as hopeless as she thought.
Maybe… she still had a chance.
And maybe… just maybe…
She was meant to cook not just for survival, but for something much greater.