A Test for the Son-in-Law

"Wow~"

"This is truly incredible."

"The taste is so unique—it has a light, smoky aroma that lingers on the tongue!"

The voices of admiration echoed in the small tavern, filled with the rich aroma of hot-smoked salmon.

"It's richer than ordinary sashimi," Leonora continued, her eyes glittering. "The texture is like silky jelly… no—more like solidified fat that instantly dissolves the moment it touches your tongue."

She wasn't exaggerating. The smooth, glistening slices of salmon on the plate radiated a gentle amber hue from the whiskey-smoke infusion. Each bite released a subtle yet deeply satisfying complexity.

"And that aged whiskey you used at the end…" Leonora closed her eyes, savoring another bite. "It not only removed any fishiness, but it also added an earthy aroma and made the fish meat firmer. This method is truly ingenious!"

Zane remained calm, watching the elegant woman before him lose herself in flavors. Her reaction was intense—and oddly adorable.

"You know," she added excitedly, "High-quality salmon has a thick layer of intramuscular fat. It's rare in fish. During smoking, the plant oils in the wood break down into microscopic particles that cling to the surface, slowly penetrating the meat."

"In other words," she concluded, "this fusion of fish, salt, and smoke doesn't just balance nutrition—it transforms texture and flavor to their peak."

"But with whiskey as the final touch," she was about to continue, when—

"Enough," Zane said gently, stepping closer. He reached out and lightly covered her mouth.

"Mm…!" Leonora stiffened.

"Calm down," Zane whispered beside her ear, voice low and composed. "You're losing control again."

She nodded frantically, cheeks flushed, her refined composure slipping away as he slowly removed his hand.

"Sorry…" she said quietly. "It happens sometimes. Whenever I taste something truly amazing, my brain lights up and I can't stop talking…"

"Don't worry," Zane said with a chuckle. "Even Mana couldn't resist my food. So it's only natural you'd be swept away too."

In the original story, Leonora had a unique quirk. Despite her limited Japanese fluency, she would go on long, technical monologues whenever she tasted something that moved her.

To some, it was strange. But to those who knew her, it was… charming.

—

Smoking.

It wasn't just a cooking method. Historically, it stood shoulder to shoulder with grilling in terms of culinary impact. A timeless technique for preserving and elevating food.

Of course, hot-smoked salmon—unlike cured fish—was best enjoyed fresh.

"Zane," Leonora said, her expression turning serious, "how important is internal moisture during the smoking process?"

"Very," he replied without hesitation. "Too much moisture and the smoke won't penetrate; it'll slide off. Too little, and the meat turns leathery. The surface should be just slightly sticky—never wet."

"And the ideal temperature for hot smoking?" she pressed.

"Cold smoking is done between 20–30°C and can take weeks," Zane explained smoothly. "Hot smoking happens around 50°C, but ideally 60°C. That gives it flavor and safety, all in just a few hours."

"There's also a modern method called liquid smoking, but that needs professional tools and knowledge. Not many chefs bother with it."

Leonora nodded with growing satisfaction.

"As the Director said, your skills are exceptional. No wonder Alice… well, no wonder she admires you so much."

She leaned slightly closer, her voice softening. "When she talks about you, her eyes light up."

There it was—the real reason she came.

Her gaze held a gentle warmth as she studied him—like a mother inspecting a potential son-in-law.

Zane gave a small, tired smile. Compliments like these had become common lately. Flattering, but exhausting. Especially since Leonora clearly knew these things already. She just wanted to test him.

Still, he played along.

Leonora picked up her utensils again and resumed eating. The smoked salmon had cooled slightly, but the flavor had only deepened.

Each bite carried the delicate interplay of sea breeze, forest smoke, and herbaceous whispers—unmistakably Nordic.

Like aged wine or a story passed down through generations.

When she finally finished, her expression was soft, dreamy.

"Chinese cuisine is excellent," she said slowly. "But you… an Eastern chef mastering Nordic flavors to this extent… I truly admire it."

She looked at him directly. "Your smoked salmon surpasses many top restaurants I've visited across Northern Europe."

"I used to work in a five-star hotel," Zane replied with a shrug. "Nordic cuisine was part of the rotation. I had to learn it properly."

"Heh," Leonora giggled, her smile radiant. "You could rely on your looks, yet you choose talent. No wonder Alice is so taken with you."

"If I were 20 years younger… I'd probably chase after you myself!"

Her laugh was teasing, but there was an underlying truth that made Zane's lips twitch.

They say the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach. That had never felt truer than now.

—

"Zane," she suddenly asked, as if the thought had been lingering. "What do you think of Alice?"

He blinked, caught off-guard. "Alice?"

He recalled her short visit to the tavern, escorted by Erina. The taste of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall had left her speechless, and the sweet and sour ribs had made her reevaluate everything she thought she knew.

"She's brilliant," Zane said honestly. "But also impulsive, occasionally childish, and—"

"You're just listing her flaws?" Leonora raised a brow.

"She's genuine," Zane said firmly. "Compared to Erina, who suppresses everything inside, Alice wears her heart on her sleeve. That makes her easier to get along with."

Leonora smiled with a mother's pride. "She's never looked down on others despite being raised as a young lady. I tried to teach her that."

"I can tell," Zane nodded. "She has your warmth."

Leonora's face softened, but she quickly composed herself. "Alright, no more compliments. I've seen enough today."

Though the "test" was unofficial, she had already made up her mind.

—

Their conversation continued for more than an hour. Whenever Nordic cuisine came up, their dialogue deepened.

Rindo, still in the tavern, slumped over the bar. She quietly sipped ginger soda, sneaking glances toward them.

This mother-in-law energy is off the charts, she thought.

—

Eventually, Leonora stood up.

"It's late. I still have duties at Totsuki," she said with a graceful smile.

Zane nodded. "Come back with Alice sometime. I'll make something even better next time."

She paused at the door, turned, and asked with a quiet intensity:

"Will you be good to Alice?"

Zane blinked, stunned. "Huh?"

"You're the first man she truly admires," Leonora said. "She may not say much, but I can tell."

There was no hostility in her words—only a mother's complicated emotions.

Then, before Zane could respond, she turned and walked away.

"…What the hell has Alice been telling her lately?" Zane muttered.

—

He exhaled deeply, then shook his head.

"Being talented and good-looking is such a pain these days."

In the back, Rindo scoffed. "Stop being smug. She's just using you to adjust her daughter's views."

Zane smirked. "If it works, doesn't that make me amazing?"

Rindo rolled her eyes—and poured herself another drink.