bigabreads Chapter 158
Chapter 158
Chapter 158. Love and the Culinary Revolution (2)
The signing of the contract between The Golden Mermaid and Y&P Trading Company.
"I trust you've had a chance to look over the materials we sent in advance regarding Y&P's investment in The Golden Mermaid."
"Oh, yes. You sent them through in such thorough detail."
Penelope opened proceedings with a broad explanation of the general terms.
Y&P Trading Company was no charity, after all.
They were plainly helping The Golden Mermaid as it floundered in debt — but if The Golden Mermaid were to successfully revive, the structure was designed to ensure Y&P took home something solid in return.
"In that case, let's start with the profit-sharing arrangement and operational policy……."
Penelope took up her pen and laid out the key terms of the contract point by point.
Her manner of speaking was businesslike and clipped. But from Marianne's perspective as she listened, it was a rather appealing proposal.
The reason was simple.
Left to her own devices, Marianne Blanchard was heading for nothing but a bankruptcy ending. The situation was that Y&P Trading Company's unconditional assistance had given her room to breathe.
On top of that, Y&P's track record in the F&B sector was as good as a guarantee. She had confirmed that unmistakably at the recent banquet, when Jurgen and Brigitte had stepped in as substitutes.
The profit-sharing ratio was a touch greedy, but…… In Marianne's current position, she was in no place to be making demands.
"Not a bad proposal."
Marianne nodded along as she listened to the explanation. Throughout the process, Penelope studied Marianne closely.
'What on earth is this woman?'
In truth, this proposal was deeply irregular — and at the same time, held Marianne's lifeline in its hands. Under normal circumstances, a single whim from Penelope could have upended the whole thing; a precarious contract indeed.
And yet, Marianne was far too at ease. Far too composed.
As if all of this had been arranged in advance. Not the slightest emotion was leaking out from behind that elegant mask.
The sight of her was enough to stir certain memories in Penelope.
Memories of her own past — when she had been called a 'useless flower,' full of venom, drifting through the Social Circles.
Back then, Penelope had not let a single thing show outwardly — not the smouldering within, not the shame writhing against the indignity she endured.
When they had met before, she had thought of Marianne as nothing more than a Countess with flowers for a brain — someone who had received a title well beyond her abilities far too early.
'Does she have more depth than she appears? And Jurgen…… saw that in her?'
Come to think of it. Serena, Brigitte, and indeed Penelope herself — Jurgen had a gift for recognising undervalued talent and drawing them to his side.
One might call him a true master of buying at the low point.
Then was it really true? Was it genuinely possible? That Marianne would become a second Penelope?
While Penelope felt an unaccountable restlessness —
Marianne was strolling serenely through an imaginary garden in her mind.
'Heh, just as expected.'
The terms were as generous as what she had seen in the contract documents. She had scrutinised carefully for any poison clauses or sneaky tricks hidden within, but there was nothing of the sort.
Bernard, skimming the papers over her shoulder, wore nothing but a satisfied expression as well.
Any observer could see these were favourable terms for Marianne. The very look of doubt on Penelope's face was proof enough of that.
"Now then…… let's move on to the most important part."
Penelope tapped the pen tip on the core clause of the contract.
"First and foremost, a 50% stake in The Golden Mermaid will pass immediately to Y&P."
By her estimate, this was likely to be the most contentious stretch.
"The stake is half, but until the investment is recouped, all authority over operations, finances, staffing, and menu decisions will rest entirely with Y&P."
Penelope looked Marianne squarely in the eyes and drove the point home.
"In plain terms, Countess, you will have no independent authority to approve anything. From ordering food ingredients to hiring staff — even purchasing a single napkin will be impossible without Y&P Trading Company's approval."
She'll push back here, surely?
But there was no yielding on this. Even with The Golden Mermaid revived through a transfusion of funds, if Marianne were to meddle in operations at will, it would run aground again.
She had therefore loaded her argument and readied it. She could go on for a full thirty minutes about operational efficiency and whatnot.
However.
"Hmm……."
Marianne tapped her fan lightly against her lips as she scanned the contract. The circuits running in her head were on an entirely different track from Penelope's.
'Half the stake? Management authority? They can have it for now, I suppose.'
The Golden Mermaid as it stood was nothing more than a hollowed-out wreck. Y&P Trading Company was willing to shoulder it, pay off the debts, and breathe life back into it.
'He's blinded by love and wants to carry my burdens for me — there's no particular reason to refuse that.'
Jurgen was smitten with Marianne. Which meant Marianne held the upper hand.
If he worked hard enough to bring the restaurant back to life, she could simply bat her eyes and buy it back at a steal later. In the meantime, she could play at being proprietress without a care about money.
Her calculations complete, Marianne settled into an unhurried smile.
"Fine. That's perfectly reasonable."
"……Pardon?"
Penelope's pen faltered. This easily?
"Frankly, crunching numbers and chasing after staff was exactly the sort of thing I couldn't stand. Gives you a headache and does nothing for your dignity, doesn't it? If Penelope is willing to take on that thankless work, being so gifted at trade as she is — well, I'm grateful."
The manner of Marianne — carrying herself like a mistress addressing a maid. Penelope's eyebrows twitched into an asymmetric line.
"There is, however, one condition."
"Please go ahead."
Marianne pressed her finger to a single word in the contract.
"This rather grates on me. My title is listed as 'Manager.' I'm not a salaried employee, am I? I am a Countess, after all — I should be afforded some dignity."
Is that really what matters right now? Penelope was momentarily taken aback.
"Publicly, treat me as Co-Representative — at minimum as Owner. That way my standing holds, and there's some face in it when I invite someone to The Golden Mermaid."
Penelope was dumbfounded. She was giving up real authority without a fight, and yet clinging to something as trivial as a name on a nameplate.
But it was also true that they were making use of the Blanchard Countship as a banner.
……Come to think of it, it wasn't entirely wrong, actually.
"Very well. The external title is yours to choose as you wish. The legal effects, however, will follow this contract."
"My, so fussy. All right, all right."
Marianne signed away briskly and let slip a passing remark.
"Lord Jurgen really is…… so considerate. Offloading all the tiresome work onto Penelope like this. I do feel dreadful for you."
"……?"
What? Was that a jab?
"At any rate. I look forward to working together. Contract or no contract — we'll be like family before long. What's yours and what's mine — does it really matter?"
Penelope could not make heads or tails of it. She could not even begin to guess what Jurgen had done the other day to put this woman in such a state.
"Well then, Penelope. Do keep a good eye on the household accounts, won't you? I do tend to spend rather freely. The only one I can count on is our meticulous little Penelope."
As though she were the superior party, Marianne gave Penelope a pat on the shoulder, and swept out trailing the scent of perfume.
The contract had been concluded. Exactly according to plan.
"What was that……?"
And yet Penelope could not shake the foul feeling that she had, somehow, lost.
***
The day after the contract was concluded, inside The Golden Mermaid's kitchen.
In truth, the one most pleased by this alliance was none other than Brigitte.
She had always had a strong inclination toward doing 'art' — and unexpectedly, the opportunity to fulfil that dream had arrived far sooner than she could have imagined.
"Wow! Looking at it again, this kitchen really is wonderful!"
Brigitte glanced around in admiration at the equipment, which rivalled Jurgen's own kitchen.
"But there's truly nothing in the way of ingredients."
Brigitte looked at the empty refrigerator and the empty tank. With the arrangement with the Black Sail Guild now severed, this place was little more than a vast empty shell.
"This is the time to show your abilities, Brigitte. What are you thinking of doing?"
At Jurgen's question, Brigitte rested her chin in her hand and fell into thought.
"Hmm…… first of all, the existing course that Chef Gabriel put together is no use to us! There's no more Blue Lobster or Almas Caviar, after all."
"Quite right."
"But this place is The Golden Mermaid, so it ought to still be about the sea, right? So I had to think about it!"
Brigitte showed Jurgen the notes she had been scribbling on a piece of paper.
"I've put together a line-up centred on seafood that's easy to source in the North. For instance…… Bisque!"
Brigitte's eyes lit up.
"Chef Gabriel made Bisque with Lobster, didn't he? But Northern waters have Red Prawns in far greater abundance. They're a hundredth of the price, and the savory taste and fragrance that comes from their heads is richer than Lobster."
"Red Prawns, is it……."
"Yes! First you stir-fry the Red Prawn heads and shells over high heat to draw out as much of that crustacean aroma as possible, Flambé with Brandy, then add a touch of Northern fresh cream to finish it off softly!"
The Bellua Republic-style recipe tumbling effortlessly from Brigitte's lips.
"And then, you set a Cod Mousse Quenelle on top of that Bisque. Cod is low in fat, so it won't interfere with the prawn's flavour. As it slowly dissolves over the warm soup…… the Red Prawn fragrance and the clean, delicate taste of the Cod will rise together!"
Northern Red Prawn Bisque and Cod Bouche. A map of flavour took shape in Jurgen's mind.
A thick, rich soup of deep crimson, carrying the scent of the sea within. The snow-white Cod Mousse floating quietly atop it, swaying gently.
"Magnificent — Brigitte, as ever."
"Hehehe, there is still so much I have to learn from you, Teacher."
Jurgen ruffled Brigitte's hair fondly.
In truth, his trust in Brigitte was boundless, and he had little anxiety about the other courses either. If Brigitte made it, even a pea dish — which Jurgen was not particularly fond of — would be delicious.
"The worry is the other cooks, as ever. The question is whether Chef Gabriel and the existing staff will follow Brigitte's lead without trouble……."
In the end, for the food to come out well on the floor, every member of staff had to move as one body. The critical thing was whether Chef Gabriel, who had a firm grip on this kitchen, would bend as Brigitte needed him to…….
"Oh, don't worry about that!"
Brigitte fiddled with the hem of her apron and smiled with complete confidence.
"Cooks speak through flavour! We'll be on good terms in no time!"
At that moment, the kitchen door opened. Chef Gabriel stepped in, somewhat hesitantly.
"Pardon the intrusion."
"No need to stand on ceremony entering your own kitchen. It has been a while, Chef Gabriel. This is Brigitte."
"Hello!"
He stole a glance at the draft of the new menu that Jurgen and Brigitte had put together, then —
"……That Red Prawn Bisque."
He gave an awkward cough and opened his mouth.
"Northern Red Prawns have thick shells — if you simply crush them, off-flavours get mixed in. You need to press them through the Juicer. I have to get the clearest, most concentrated flavour out."
Jurgen and Brigitte looked at him at the same time. Gabriel, ears red to the tips, averted his gaze.
"Well…… I'm just…… saying."
Brigitte beamed and called out.
"Oh! There was a method like that! As expected of the Head Chef of the capital's foremost restaurant!"
"Ahem, that was a long time ago……."
Watching Gabriel's embarrassed fidgeting, Jurgen slowly let the corner of his mouth curl upward.
Indeed. The Culinary Revolution must certainly have some kind of magic — a magic that turns everyone into kindred spirits.