Chapter 44 – Differences in Food Culture Between Showa and Reiwa

“I wanna eat junk food.” 

“Junk… food?”  

“Never mind.”  

 

Around the time the first three days of New Year’s in Showa 2 (1927) had passed, a sudden craving welled up inside me.  

 

I quickly tried to deny the words that slipped out, but Shizu, my cool maid, was giving me a suspicious side-eye.  

 

Occasionally, modern Japanese or wasei-eigo (Japanese-made English) from my past life slips out, but everyone just assumes it’s the “Dreaming Miko” talking about things she saw in her dreams.  

 

However, Shizu, who’s always by my side, has been giving me doubtful looks lately.
Maybe the time will come when I’ll have to come clean.  

 

Anyway, it wasn’t my body but my soul—my past self—that was craving junk food.
And it was a pretty desperate craving.  

 

I’d had these thoughts before, but the desire was strongest around this time, when I’d grown tired of eating traditional New Year’s dishes.  

 

I’m an ultra-rich celebrity, and Ootori is enthusiastic about adopting Western culture, but there are limits. 

After all, even in America, fast food chains didn’t exist yet.  

 

I fudged some details and had hamburgers and french fries made, claiming they were American imports, but they turned out to be proper dishes rather than fast food.

 

I wanted to eat with my hands, but I was forced to use a knife and fork.
At least cola was readily available, so that satisfied some of my cravings. 

Since many of the drinks served during snack time already existed in the 21st century, it was a comforting moment for me.  

 

Among the junk food our household chef made, the only one that passed was potato chips.
But even those weren’t exactly easy to enjoy—keeping them from going stale was a challenge. 

Storing potato chips in a tin can to prevent moisture was surreal in its own way. 

Like, come on, these aren’t rice crackers.  

 

Still, they were well-received by both the household and guests, slowly gaining popularity.  

 

The biggest blessing in all this was that that company had already been founded, meaning I could get my hands on real Japanese mayonnaise.
Sure, it was jarred, but just that alone could make me down three bowls of rice. 

I really was grateful this wasn’t some otherworldly fantasy setting.  

 

Even so, I occasionally made suggestions to the head chef, the shops we frequented, and even establishments that—thanks to my past-life knowledge—I knew would still exist in the 21st century.  

 

Among these, one major missing category was Japanese-style Chinese cuisine—dishes that, much like fast food, hadn’t yet been adapted in this world.

 

Apparently, Chinese restaurants were starting to appear in Japan, but they were still extremely limited.
However, since the Ootori family had deep ties with the continent, Chinese dishes were sometimes prepared at the Ootori estate. 

Of course, most of those only came about after I personally requested them, but even so, I would cheer when I got to eat them.

Most of them turned out to be disappointments, though.

Even though they were Chinese dishes, they were still upper-class cuisine—elegant and refined.
I could put up with that, but even so, there were far too few of what I considered staple dishes.

There were barely any spicy dishes with lots of chili peppers, and staples like shumai (traditional Chinese dumpling) and nikuman (steamed pork bun) were missing. 

Even karaage didn’t feel quite right. 

But what disappointed me the most were the pan-fried gyoza (japanese dumpling) and ramen.

(Was it postwar when pan-fried gyoza started becoming common? Ramen doesn’t get across unless I call it “shina soba,” huh… Haaah. I want to eat ramen—instant ramen!)

“Another unreasonable request for the head chef?”

Just as I was imagining food in my fantasy, Shizuu’s face suddenly leaned in close in front of me.

(Isn’t she getting closer lately? Can I take this as us getting a bit more friendly?)

That thought briefly crossed my mind, but my stronger feelings were, of course, about food.

I’m a living creature—there’s no way I could resist my stomach.
And on top of that, junk food is food for the soul.

“Yes. There’s something I want to eat. It’s something I learned about on the continent.”

“Again? What is it this time? We already had bao(chinese steamed bun) and jiaozi(another type of chinese dumpling) the other day, didn’t we? And we even did yum cha(Cantonese brunch tradition). Are you still not satisfied?”

“Uh, yeah… it’s Chinese noodles, but there’s a slightly unusual kind I want to try. Is it okay if I just ask about it?”

I look up at her with pleading eyes, but she responds with a flat stare.

However, a small sigh escapes her a few seconds later.
That’s the okay signal. 

After all, I’m the mistress here—there’s no way a servant can go against me.
Especially when it’s a child’s wish.

Bolstered by that thought, I say the usual words.

“Thank you, Shizuu. I love you.”

“Isn’t it the food that you love instead?”

Shizuu’s comeback has also become the usual lately.

And so, I head to the kitchen full of energy.

Our head chef mainly specializes in Western cuisine.
We also have a Japanese cuisine specialist and a few assistants.

There aren’t many family members living in the estate, but we have to be prepared for any events.
Plus, to maintain such a large estate, a decent number of staff is required, so we have chefs who cook for the servants as well.

And during their relatively free hours, I secretly peek in and ask them to make dishes that people around me often call “modern” or “weird and outlandish.”

“Oh, if it isn’t Miss Reiko. What kind of dish would you like today? Or are you in the mood for sweets?”

“Ah, right, we’re currently experimenting with thin-fried items using ingredients other than potatoes, so we should be able to serve some soon. The thin-fried lotus root was also very well received by the master.”

“The fluffy, runny omurice you taught us how to make the other day was a huge hit with the people from the outside restaurant too!”

“How was the poached egg we served for breakfast the other day? I think there’s still room for improvement, so feel free to let us know anything.”

(Yes, yes. I’m so glad our chefs are so eager to experiment. Mainly, it’s my tongue and stomach that benefit.)

Feeling satisfied, I respond with a few words of praise to each of their comments.
I also throw in some little ideas here and there. 

I give them suggestions about dishes that don’t yet exist in this time period as well.

Since our chefs specialize in Western cuisine, it’s easy to apply the basic knowledge from my past life.

(One of these days, I’ll have them try Italian food too. I wonder if any Italian restaurants existed in Japan during this era…)

But today’s request was going to be a bit more difficult, I thought. 

As the initial chatter settled down, I brought it up.

“Chinese cuisine, is it? We’re currently practicing pan-fried dumplings, so please wait just a little longer.”

“Oh, that’s great to hear! But today, it’s something completely different.”

“Is it the dish with chili sauce that you mentioned before? Either way, Chinese cuisine tends to be more of a commoner’s dish, so the recipes you’ve shared with us have been popular among the staff. However, to serve them to the guests, honestly, most of them are quite difficult.”

“Ahaha, that’s probably true today as well.”

(That’s right. But still, even if it’s Japanese-style, I really wanted to have some stir-fried pork with vegetables…)

“What’s the dish then? We’re also researching Chinese cuisine, so we’ll do our best to make it.”

With that, a few chefs looked at me with a somewhat challenging gaze, as if to say they were up for it.
I was slightly intimidated by their stares but took a deep breath and began.

“Well, first, I want Chinese noodles. I think there’s a shop somewhere in Tokyo that serves them, but the one I want is a bit different from theirs.”

“Chinese noodles, that’s something we could easily make. How is it different?”

“The soup, the flavor of the broth is different. It’s made with bonito flakes and dried sardines as a base, and then chicken bones and pork bones are simmered slowly…”

I continued for a while, speaking passionately about the ramen broth.
The current Chinese noodles are probably simple and not bad, but my taste buds from my previous life in the 21st century just can’t help but crave the 21st-century flavors.

After discussing it for a bit, we reached the conclusion that, aside from the difficulty, it’s not impossible to make.

Some of the chefs seem motivated, so I’m optimistic about it.

“Also, there’s one more thing I want you to try, if that’s okay?”

“It’s your request, my lady. There’s no reason to refuse. Please, say whatever you’d like.”

“Well, then, I’ll say it. Um, I want you to dry the Chinese noodles and turn them into instant noodles.”

“Instant noodles? What’s that?”

“A type of preserved food.”

“Ah, so that’s what you mean by instant. But why would you want that?”

I had anticipated this question, so I quickly prepared my excuse.

“I want soldiers to be able to eat something tasty, even on the battlefield.”

At that, several of the chefs gave me a ‘Hah, I see’ look.
Well, it wasn’t exactly a secret, but they were thinking of the family and the clan, which was exactly what I hoped for.

“You’re thinking of the head of the family and Tatsuya-sama, aren’t you? If that’s the case, we’ll do our best.”

“Well, for Reiko-sama, I suppose you’re thinking of Tatsuya-nii-sama.”

A small, not-so-quiet laugh erupted.

Although it was no longer a secret, it was still a bit embarrassing.
To shake off the embarrassment, I decided to steer the conversation forward quickly.

“W-well, forget about me! Please listen properly. You see, if you quickly fry the Chinese noodles in oil to dry them, you can easily eat them by just adding hot water, and that’s what they call instant noodles.”

“Wow, is that really possible?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but when you fry the noodles in high-temperature oil, the moisture inside evaporates instantly, creating tiny holes. So, when you pour hot water over it, it returns to its original noodle form. Pretty amazing, right?”

“Indeed, if that works, it’s quite impressive.”

“Right?”

“And what about the broth? Is that something separate? I’ve heard of dried vegetables, so the ingredients should be fine, but the broth might need to be made on the spot with miso or soy sauce.”

“Why not make a strong broth, bottle it up, and then mix it with hot water?”

They’re already thinking about it.

As expected of my chefs.
Well, I suppose I’ve been training them recently, but I’m grateful for this attitude.

“Well, one method is to infuse the flavor into the noodles beforehand. The other method is to dry the broth and turn it into a powder. Personally, I’d like to try the first method, where you infuse the flavor into the noodles for simplicity when eating.”

“I see. That sounds like it would be convenient for outdoor transport and cooking. And for the infusion, would you like to use the chicken bones and pork bones you mentioned earlier, or do you have another preference?”

“Chicken bones. If we’re thinking about military rations, it’d be better to go with something cheaper.”

“Indeed. …Understood. I have some acquaintances who enjoy making unusual things like this, so I’ll try to proceed with them. However, it might not be immediate, so I hope you can be patient with that.”

“Of course. If needed, let Shizu or Tokita know, and they can assist you. If it truly becomes something, we can have it done more professionally. Also, if it works out, make sure to let me try it, okay?”

“Understood. If you’re willing to go that far, I’ll make sure it succeeds. By the way, will this be for the mansion?”

“I think a small portion could work as a snack.”

“I see. That might be an option. Let me think about that as well.”

“Please do.”

With a bright smile, I encourage our chefs even more.

(But, people who like this kind of thing… are they really not someone named? If not, this feels like a heavy karmic connection.)

 ___________________

Chinese noodles, Chinese food
Since I’m using the terminology from that time, I hope you’ll understand.

I really love Chinese food.

Named = Ando Momofuku

Born in 1910.
The well-known inventor of instant ramen.

Born in Taiwan, at this time he is 16 years old. It seems unlikely he would be involved.

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