I Was Possessed By An Unknown Manga

After we finished our environmental clean-up activity in the forest, I immediately started preparing for dinner.

Unlike at home, where there were gas ranges or induction cookers, at the campsite, we had to start a fire ourselves.

Therefore, each class was given a set of dry firewood and an axe.

Those who wanted to impress the girls stepped forward to chop the wood, but unfortunately, firewood wasn’t something that could be easily split with just enthusiasm.

It required more technique than strength, and more than technique, it required a knack.

In that sense, I chose to split it with my hands instead of using an axe.

Crack!

By placing the firewood on my knee and gripping it with both hands, pulling it apart as if splitting an apple, the wood split along its grain.

Listening to the refreshing sound as I neatly split the firewood for other groups too, I placed the wood into a makeshift hearth made of bricks.

I then lit the fire with a lighter I had brought from home, transferring the flame to a newspaper to light the hearths for the other groups as well.

After completing the minimum preparations for cooking, we decided to divide the roles among ourselves.

The leader of Group D, pushing up his glasses, asked,

“Who will cook the rice?”

The first to raise his hand was Yamaguchi.

“I’ve cooked rice in a pot at home a few times. It’s my first time with firewood, but it should be fine.”

Having someone with experience in this matter was invaluable.

The inability to finely control the heat was a bit of a concern, but still better than having someone inexperienced.

A beat later, Sakamoto also raised his hand.

“Ah, I’ll help Maiya with the rice. I’m not good at cooking, so put me on odd jobs.”

Thus, the childhood friend pair was tasked with cooking rice.

“Then, who will do the cooking?”

Upon hearing that, I, Sasha, and Rika raised our hands simultaneously.

“As I mentioned earlier, I’ll make beef stroganoff.”

“I’ll make omurice!”

I lifted the wok and ladle I had taken out from the tent earlier, saying,

“The preparations are already done.”

Typically, the food made at outside school activities was limited to curry or barbecue.

However, no one in our group wanted to make curry due to each person’s distinct personality.

Honestly, I could have settled for making curry, too, but wanting to showcase my best dish, I decided to go for something more ambitious.

“Alright. Then, the three of us will cook.”

Hearing this, Satoru, who had been listening, tilted his head and asked,

“Then, what will the Class President and I do?”

The Class President, pushing up her glasses as if asking the obvious, said,

“You’ll be the negotiator.”

“Negotiator? What does that mean?”

“Literally, you’ll negotiate exchanges of curry with other groups for our dishes. With Momochi’s way with words, that should be easy, right?”

“Hah, even the Class President recognizes my greatness.”

Satoru proudly accepted the compliment, while the Class President clapped her hands and looked around at us.

“Let’s get started, everyone. If we just stand around, we won’t finish before sunset.”

As I followed these instructions, I felt as if I understood why he had not specified his role until the last moment.

The role the Class President took encompassed all six of us.

With the broadest perspective among us, she would point out any mistakes someone might make.

With that thought, I felt as if I had an army by my side, deciding to diligently fulfill my given role.

The method for making what was often called Chinese-style rice bowl was quite simple.

Prepare finely chopped cabbage, green onions, carrots, onions, and shiitake mushrooms.

Then, heat some oil in a wok and when it’s sufficiently hot, add a leg of pork and stir-fry it.

The key here is to spread the meat so it doesn’t stick together. After stir-frying the pork, add green onions, pepper, and salt for basic seasoning.

Once the scent of the onions seems to have sufficiently eliminated any gamey smell from the meat, throw all the previously chopped vegetables and shrimp into the wok.

Now, it was a race against time.

“Satoru!”

Upon receiving a signal from me, Satoru, who had been waiting beside the hearth, hurriedly threw more firewood under the wok and vigorously fanned the flames to increase the fire.

In that state, I skillfully stir-fried the meat and vegetables in the wok, imbuing them with a smoky flavor, just as I would in a kitchen.

The trick was to cook them quickly over high heat to prevent the vegetables from releasing water and losing their crisp texture.

After that, add chili powder and sugar to give it a red color, and finally, thicken it with some starch solution to create a slightly thick sauce for the rice bowl.

Adding oyster sauce or some magical powder would have made it even more delicious, but it was already tasty enough, so I omitted it.

After transferring the finished sauce from the rice bowl to another dish, I then coated the wok with plenty of oil and made fried eggs in a style resembling deep-frying, adjusting the number to the size of our group.

As my cooking was nearing completion, the dishes prepared by the others were also entering their final stages.

Unable to wait until we all gathered to eat, Satoru, who sneakily tasted the Chinese-style rice bowl sauce with his chopsticks, widened his eyes in surprise and gave me a thumbs up.

“Delicious!”

As the cook, receiving such high praise was no different than receiving a special compliment, I smiled pleasantly and headed to the battleground with the completed rice bowl sauce and fried eggs.

The judge for this cooking contest was the leader of Group D, who seemed likely to give a fair evaluation.

I, Sasha, and Rika looked at each other with tense expressions, not understanding why our palms were sweating over this.

Sasha was the first to confidently present her dish.

It was a sauce with a brown hue, sprinkled over white rice, much like curry.

Beef Stroganoff

A well-known Russian dish, famous for its sophisticated-sounding name despite its simple recipe.

Of course, with such a simple dish, the taste could vary greatly depending on the cook, making it an easy dish to prepare but difficult to make delicious.

Sasha’s beef stroganoff had a rich brown color, probably because it was made with a brown roux base.

The main ingredients were beef, onions, and shiitake mushrooms, which were stir-fried in a pan before mixing butter and flour to create a brown roux, then adjusting the thickness of the sauce with broth and sour cream.

The seasoning was solely salt and pepper, which could taste somewhat bland to first-timers.

Thud!

Sasha, placing the dish in front of the Class President with a confident smile, said,

“This is a recipe passed down directly from my mother. There’s a saying in Japan, ‘To capture a man’s heart, one must first capture his stomach,’ right?”

Showing off her extensive knowledge in a manner uncharacteristic of a foreigner, she offered her dish to the Class President.

Then, the Class President nodded and took a big spoonful of the beef stroganoff sprinkled over the rice, putting it into her mouth.

Chew, chew.

With careful movements and slightly trembling eyebrows, not wanting to make a hasty judgment.

The Class President’s demeanor was akin to that of a top-tier judge.

Swallow.

Eventually, after swallowing the food in her mouth, the Class President spoke up.

“The soft sour cream and the rich flavor of the beef, and hidden within is the acidity of white wine, right?”

Sasha crossed her arms and nodded in response.

“It’s a secret technique I learned from my mother. She said that if you grill the finely chopped beef with white wine at the beginning, the aroma and acidity are infused, neutralizing the meat’s gamey smell.”

Listening to her explanation, the Class President tasted the beef stroganoff again.

Then, setting the spoon down, he commented,

“It’s delicious but slightly bland. It feels like the seasoning is a bit lacking for eating with rice. Perhaps, Miss Sasha, you’ve never made this dish to be eaten over rice before, right?”

Sasha, as if hit right on the mark, quietly nodded her head in agreement.

“I hadn’t considered that aspect of the recipe I learned.”

“Indeed. But it’s still delicious on its own, so there’s no need to be too disappointed. And there’s no guarantee that the dishes from the other two will be more delicious than this.”

Sasha, slightly dissatisfied but understanding, stepped aside.

Next to be judged was Rika.

“Hehe, my omurice won’t be so easily surpassed! After all, I’ve been through hellish training with my mother!”

“Is that so? I’m looking forward to it.”

The Class President said this and after tasting Rika’s omurice, she harshly criticized it, saying,

“The inside of your omelet rice is so undercooked it feels like a chick might pop out at any moment. If it’s going to be like this, why did you bother killing it?”

After Rika was devastatingly sunk, it was finally my turn.

With a nervous expression, I placed the bowl I was holding in front of the Class President.

“Is this the Chinese-style rice bowl you mentioned, Mr. Kim?”

I nodded and encouraged her to try it.

Then, the Class President hesitantly nodded and picked up the spoon.

“Well then, I’ll enjoy it.”

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