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It was days like these that reminded Win Variation that she was half-Canadian.
Tracen Academy had all sorts of food they would provide. An Umamusume’s paradise considering the average appetite. Oguri Cap’s spot in the lunchroom would tell you everything.
And yet, even such a prestigious school like Tracen had its limits. Because right now, they were unable to provide the dish she was looking for; the Canadian classic.
Poutine.
It’s not that Tracen refused to make it. When she had asked them about it before, they were simply unable to.
They had potatoes of all sizes and types, the most pristine beef stock, yet the one thing they did not stock was the most important of all; the mozzarella cheese curds.
Shion wasn’t too surprised by this, but she was still a bit annoyed that in order to even get the iconic squeaky cheese, she had to order a small shipment to make it herself. Thankfully, Tracen was more than willing to provide the other ingredients, so that just left the cheese curds.
Cheval and Vernixa had once asked her why not just regular mozzarella cheese or an alternative cheese, and Shion had gone into a very long explanation why using it in the dish would not work. It left Cheval trembling, not expecting the Canadian heritage of Shion to be this passionate about it needing to specifically be the curd variant, preferably in a plastic bag.
That brought her to now. She was waiting at the Tracen post office for her delivery, sitting on the steps. It wouldn’t be long now until the mail truck arrived.
“What are you doing?”
Shion fought down the urge to sigh. Glancing over, she saw none other than her rival Orfevre standing there, arms crossed.
“I’m waiting for a package.” Shion said.
“...would it not make more sense to wait at your dorm for them to deliver it there yourself?” Orfevre asked.
“Call me impatient. This is something really important to me.”
“It would have to be, considering the last person that sat out here also had an important pick-up.” Orfevre noted.
“It was Jungle Pocket, wasn’t it?” Shion recalled.
“Waiting for the new replacement for that video game device, yes.” Orfevre said.
“And here I thought we were intense.” Shion noted, remembering the recent shouting match involving a landing on an event space and preventing a Carat from being stolen (in-game, of course) that resulted in the console being thrown out the window... alongside a couch.
What was most surprising was that Manhattan Cafe of all Umas was really good at the games and won most of them.
“I'm gonna mash all four of them. How's that gonna make you feel?” Pocket had sighed.
Dantsu Flame frantically shook her head. “No, no, do not mash-”
Pocket had exploded, pointing at the max high score Cafe had set a few weeks ago. “LOOK AT THAT NUMBER, AT THE TOP RIGHT, AND TELL ME WE'RE PASSING THAT ANY DAY THIS YEAR!”
The end result of Cafe hitting the high score again was Pocket punching a wall, Dantsu screaming in fear, Tachyon laughing maniacally and Cafe just sitting there with her win.
Even to this day, no one in Tracen was exactly sure why Fuji Kiseki allowed Pocket, Tachyon, Cafe and Dantsu to keep playing. Maybe it was because Pocket was her junior that they were allowed to keep getting away with it. They wondered how good the funding was if they were able to replace game consoles on a near-weekly basis.
“Anyways, why are you here?” Shion asked.
“I’m bored.” Orfevre said. “I demand you entertain me.”
“...maybe another time.” Shion said.
“Are you disobeying the King’s order-?”
“Listen, I do not have time for this right now.” Shion said. “So just let me get my order and-”
The growling of a stomach, no, two stomachs interrupted them.
“...are you hungry?” Shion asked, as Orfevre turned away.
“I... may have forgotten to eat breakfast.” Orfevre admitted. “My sister was busy doing something with Gold Ship and Nakayama Festa this morning and didn’t have time to prepare.”
“You do realize you can just go to the cafeteria and get breakfast, right?” Shion asked.
The lack of response told Shion everything. Scratching the back of her head, an idea popped into her head.
“Then I guess... if you want, I can invite you for lunch.” Shion offered. “I was going to make something, but I’d almost definitely have enough for two.”
“Hoh? What cuisine are you preparing that you willingly avoid the cafeteria at this hour?” Orfevre asked.
“A traditional Canadian dish that my mother showed me.” Shion softly smiled, reminiscing about such times. “I’ve already prepared several things in advance-”
The bell inside the post-office rang, indicating that the mail truck had arrived.
“Oh it’s here!” Shion’s eyes lit up as she ran into the post office.
How amusing... Orfevre put a hand under her chin. I suppose I can humour this dish. I wonder why she’s so excited about it? Perhaps it’s gourmet...
The two were in one of the Ritto Dorm’s kitchenettes. Orfevre simply sat at the small table, watching as Shion placed the ingredients on the counter-top. There were bags of what she could only describe as pieces of cheese, alongside beef and chicken stock. A stick of butter and bag of flour were also present, with a kettle of water already heating up. Shion went over to the freezer, pulling out several trays of frozen fries covered in plastic wrap (with “Shion’s fries, DO NOT TAKE” scribbled atop in red marker).
“Alright.” Shion pulled off the plastic wrap, before rubbing her hands. “Let’s get to work.”
“What dish are you preparing?” Orfevre asked.
“Like I said, this is a traditional Canadian dish. Poutine.” Win Variation had a proud smile on her face.
Orfevre blinked. “Poo-teen?”
“No, poutine.” Shion said. “The “tine” is sharper.”
“Pou-tin?” Orfevre tried again.
“A lot better, yes.” Shion nodded. “Poutine is a comfort food all over Canada that originated in Quebec.”
“Comfort food?” Orfevre raised a brow. “Food is meant for sustenance. You cannot embrace it for the “comfort” that a bed would provide.”
“No, it’s not-” Shion put a hand on her face. “Look, when you eat your favourite food, you feel great about it, right? Like you’re happy?”
Thinking about it, Orfevre did remember that the meals prepared by her sister did provide a level of warmth. “I suppose so.”
“Then this is something my mother and I would make for a similar feeling.” Shion said.
“The ingredients don’t look that sophisticated.” Orfevre noted. “Are you sure this is a dish that many enjoy?”
Shion turned away to turn on the air fryer. “Orfevre, have you ever been in the kitchen?”
“No. Why-?”
“Then please keep any insensitive comments about the way the food is prepared to yourself when it’s not something you’re aware of.” Shion turned to look at her with a smile, but Orfevre could tell she was pushing down quite a bit of rage.
“Would you... prefer I stay silent, then?” Orfevre asked, genuinely surprised by how intimidating Shion was right now. She didn’t realize that this particular dish was so important to Shion.
“Works for me.” Shion said, putting the frozen fries into the basket. “Just sit there and wait for me to finish. Trust me; you’ll love this.”
Orfevre was close to make a comment along the lines of “The King will be the judge of that,” but figured it was better to let Shion do her work uninterrupted.
Shion stretched her hands and started cooking. Orfevre watched as she put the fries into the air fryer, before moving to the stove-top and mixing several ingredients into a pot. To be entirely honest, Orfevre was completely lost at keeping track of what Shion was doing. Was she making a kind of sauce? A stew? Were the fries a side, or the main? To be dipped or eaten alongside it?
She made a mental note to try and research what the common-folk eat. She’d look far less foolish if she knew more about the people she ruled over. After all, what kind of King wouldn’t understand his subjects?
Any coherent thought about her kingly attitude seemed to fade away not long after, as a rich aroma filled the air. What was this smell? It was almost like the exquisite meat dishes her sister had once prepared, but she remembered Shion hadn’t brought anything like that.
Tracking down the smell, she realized it was from the pot Shion was mixing up. “What is it that you’re mixing?”
Whether Shion was ignoring her or was too focused to hear, she didn’t give Orfevre an answer. She was busy trying to make sure she was putting in the right amount of each ingredient, adding a few pinches of salt and pepper.
The intrigue and interest was slowly growing... as were the low growls of her stomach. She forced herself to try and keep those sounds subdued, but that was proving difficult as the exquisite scent filled the air. The addition of the frying potato sticks only served to add to this issue for her.
A ruler like myself, falling for the simple basic pleasures of human life... this is humiliating. Was this Shion’s plan this whole time? She wondered. No, Shion’s a passionate and honest Umamusume with talent. This isn’t any sort of underhanded trick; this is her way of simply showing kindness to another...
The small ding on the air fryer told Shion that the fries were done. She pulled the tray out, and the aroma of crisp potatoes intensified. She pulled out two bowls, before ripping off the top of the bag full of cheese curds. It was time to assemble the dish.
First, the fries would go in to make the base. Then the first layer of cheese curds. More fries on top, then even more cheese curds. And to finish it off, that cascade of thick heavy gravy, drowning it all in heart-stopping goodness.
“It is done...!” Shion smiled as she put the bowls down on the table, alongside a pair of forks. “Bon appétit.”
Orfevre stared at the bowl in front of her. Despite the amazing aroma, it seemed far too simple. It didn’t even appear all that appetizing; the food was practically drowning in the sauce.
“This seems... incomplete.” Orfevre said, as Shion’s ears twitched in slight anger. “Would it not make sense to add another topping before the sauce? Or perhaps garnish the top with-?”
“No!” Win Variation slammed her palms on the table, actually causing Orfevre to jump a bit. “You can’t add anything to it! There is only one correct way to serve it! Anything extra added on is just some stupid tourist trap!”
Neither of them realized that Orfevre had scooted back in her chair from Shion’s outburst. There was a confused moment of silence between them as Shion sat back down, cheeks turning the same shade as her hair. Was it embarrassment or anger? All Orfevre knew was that she had stepped a bit too far and insulted Shion’s cooking.
That would be unbecoming of a ruler, to demean the hard work and passion of her subjects. She would try the dish, and judge it from the way food should be judged; by the taste.
Sticking her fork into the dish, she made sure to get all three components. Several golden-crisp fries, squeaky cheese curds, and the thick, heavy gravy. She could feel the weight practically dragging the fork down. However, this would not deter her. After a brief moment of hesitation, she put it in her mouth.
Shion watched as she chewed. She was hiding her nerves quite well. She had gone on about how passionate she was about the food, but also remembered everyone’s palette was different. She couldn’t fault Orfevre if she didn’t like it, but she’d look like an utter fool if everything she had spoken about earlier went to waste.
“...it’s good.”
“Huh?”
Orfevre’s eyes were sparkling. “It’s good! I’ve never had anything like this before... this tastes incredible!”
All the doubt went away, as the pride for her Canadian heritage swelled up in Shion. “I told you so.”
“It’s such a simple dish, yet so complex at the same time!” Orfevre was amazed. “All the ingredients work so well together... how is this possible?!”
Shion smiled, before taking a bit from her own plate. “I’m surprised you’re enjoying it this much.”
“I... I’m a bit taken aback.” Orfevre admitted. “This cuisine is different from Tracen, what my sister makes me, and even the restaurants I’ve been to.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it.” Shion said. “If you love it this much, I’d be willing to make it again. This sort of food is anytime food for me.”
“If anything, I’d prefer you cook for me forever.” Orfevre said.
The fork dropped from Shion’s hand. She blinked, staring at Orfevre. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Did I not make myself clear?” Orfevre asked. “I’d want you to cook for me forever.”
“Do you... know what you’re saying?” Shion’s face turned as red as her hair.
Orfevre blinked, confused. She wondered why Shion had gotten so flustered after being so intense earlier. “I’m not repeating myself. You know what I’m saying.”
As Shion was burning up in embarrassment, Orfevre continued to enjoy the dish, blissfully unaware of what she indirectly said.
The red-haired Umamusume’s tried focusing on her own bowl, but she kept replaying Orfevre’s words in her mind. She couldn’t say yes, not when Orfevre didn’t know the weight behind her words.
But maybe cooking for her forever wasn’t a bad idea...