Published: July 26, 2025
I am Ilse, the personal chef for the Guild Master’s household.
“Huh? You don’t ask a woman her age.”
I started aiming to become a chef naturally because my parents ran a food stall. When I was little, they operated a street stand, but later managed to open a small shop right by the East Gate. I grew up watching my parents’ backs. Since they trained me, I could already cook before becoming an apprentice, and I was even unusually good at money calculations for a child who hadn’t yet had their baptism ceremony.
After my baptism, I began working as an apprentice at a store my parents knew, absorbing new recipes rapidly. I loved learning new things—I enjoyed thinking about how to make each recipe, whether taught directly or sneakily observed, even better.
After honing my skills hopping from one shop to another, I was invited to work at a noble’s mansion. My parents told me to stop because I might never return to the city, but I ignored them and went.
Of course. Opportunities to learn noble recipes don’t come often.
Starting at the very bottom with prep work and dishwashing, I gradually stole the head chef’s techniques. The ingredients and seasonings used in noble meals were on an entirely different level. The elegance of the dishes was unlike anything in city diners; every day was a chance to learn something new.
But that only lasted a few years.
No matter how much I trained, I couldn’t climb the ranks. To advance in a noble household, you needed not only skill but also noble bloodlines or connections.
When I was stuck, the Guild Master reached out to me. Actually, the deputy chef was about to be recruited, but the head chef recommended me instead—even though I had the skill, I couldn’t move up.
They told me to prepare meals equal to those served to nobles for a young lady who would one day enter the Noble District after adulthood. It was so the young lady wouldn’t have a hard time later.
I accepted without hesitation. Here was my chance to shine as head chef. And the Guild Master’s household had more money than some low-ranking nobles!
The kitchen was equipped just like a noble’s mansion, stocked with seasonings and ingredients. This was the most rewarding job for a chef, the perfect workplace. To match such a great environment, I put my heart into my cooking every day. I’ve never had happier, more fulfilling days.
I had confidence in my skills.
I was proud of all the recipes I’d gathered.
That is, until Myne burst into the scene.
It was a shock.
Even the Guild Master’s household had only just started using sugar, a seasoning newly reaching us from the central city. The cooking methods involving it weren’t well developed yet. I wanted to experiment but hadn’t fully researched it.
Yet Myne casually used sugar to bake sweets. She lacked stamina and strength, so I did all the actual baking, but her instructions showed she knew the recipe inside out.
The baked quatre-quarts was a fluffy, moist cake with a refined sweetness and a crumbly texture unlike any recipe I’d seen before—not even in noble mansions.
But Myne’s background, as I learned from the young lady, was the daughter of a soldier father and a mother working in a dye workshop—a commoner. Their family certainly couldn’t afford luxury sweets; likely only forest fruits and honey provided sweetness.
Where on earth did Myne learn such recipes?
Since then, I researched Myne’s quatre-quarts—studying the batter’s aeration, oven temperature, and baking time. Baking it many times, I brought it to what I considered a masterpiece. The young lady even suggested marketing it to nobles.
After tasting it, Myne shared further improvements in exchange for sugar.
“If you grate feijoa peel into the batter, it changes the aroma and flavor, making it tastier. Adding other things will change the flavor too. You should experiment yourself to find the best ratios. Here’s a bonus tip: if serving noble clients, accompany it with well-whipped cream and artistically cut fruits to enhance its appearance.”