Chapter 13 Thirteen: New Dishes—Grilled and Bite Cabbage

In the kitchen of the Leaky Cauldron, Allen pulled a baking pan from the oven using a pair of dragon leather gloves. Though originally made for combat or potion handling, these gloves had never been used for anything else—and were now practically kitchen utensils.

The dragon leather gloves were remarkably effective. Just a thin layer could insulate against extreme heat, and their flexibility didn't hinder finger movement at all. Allen had grown quite fond of them.

To be honest, Allen liked this kitchen too. Despite its appearance—full of old-fashioned appliances that looked like relics from the last century—the place, when fused with magic, surpassed even the most advanced smart kitchens of the 21st century. It was practically a fully automated magical kitchen.

If he didn't want to cook himself, all it took was a wave of the wand to summon a whole table full of... well, British cuisine.

That wasn't ideal.

Allen had already made a mental note: if he ever had the means to buy his own kitchen, he would opt for French cuisine. At the very least, it wouldn't be British—and definitely not Huxia-style unless it came with proper training.

But that dream was a long way off. With Allen's current debt—16,200 galleons (including 12,000 in wand money and 4,200 in student loans)—he had more pressing matters than kitchen design or gourmet food.

Better to focus on the dish at hand.

A strange but inviting aroma drifted through the kitchen. Allen and the small black crow perched on his shoulder both stared expectantly at the vegetables on the baking tray.

Allen removed his gloves, picked up a piece of roasted vegetable, and broke it lightly.

It didn't make a crispy sound. But that was expected—biting cabbage naturally lacked the texture to become truly crispy even after roasting. Unless Allen had access to a freeze-drying machine (which he didn't), there was no way the cabbage would become crunchy.

Still, it was good. Thanks to the low-temperature, slow-roasting method, most of the moisture had been pulled from the cabbage. His passive skill, [Hand of God], optimized both the ingredients and the cooking process—perfecting the heat level and seasoning to bring the roasted vegetables to their best state.

Judging by texture and aroma alone, this roasted version was already leagues better than the chewy kale-like stir-fry he had made earlier.

His Discriminating Eye skill gave its professional verdict:

[Roasted and Bite Cabbage]

Effect: Upon consumption, gain the status [Magic Active E] for ten minutes. Host receives +10 Strengthening Points.

By comparison, this roasted dish clearly outperformed the stir-fried version—not only because the magic-activation level had improved, but also because the duration of its effects had doubled. And the 10 strengthening points? That was the highest so far from a vegetable-based dish.

Allen's eyes widened with realization.

Cooking techniques affect the number of strengthening points an ingredient can provide.

That meant: if he wanted to maximize his gains—getting the highest strengthening points for the least cost—then the smartest approach would be to experiment with various cooking methods to determine which one best suited each new ingredient.

"Isn't this basically just recipe research?" Allen mused aloud, looking at the piece of dried vegetable in his hand. "Kind of fun when you think about it."

He took a bite.

"Seasoning's fine," he muttered to himself, chewing slowly. "But the bitterness is still pretty strong..."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe blanching the cabbage first would help draw out some of that bitterness. But then I'd have to roast it longer. Hmmm... no, that wouldn't work. The cabbage is too thick—roasting it too long would ruin the internal texture."

Allen popped a few more slices into his mouth, feeling the familiar pulse of +10 strengthening points. As he chewed, his mind was still churning with ways to improve the dish.

On his shoulder, Black—the crow—grew increasingly anxious. If he weren't slightly afraid of Allen, he probably would've dive-bombed the plate already.

This roasted batch looked and smelled far more enticing than the one Allen had cooked earlier in his room.

"Huh? What smells so good?"

Tom, the bar owner of the Leaky Cauldron, poked his head into the kitchen. He'd come in expecting to stop Allen from accidentally blowing something up, but the incredible aroma hit him before he even reached the doorway. His eyes lit up instantly.

This smell... It was better than any dish his enchanted kitchen had ever produced.

"Did you make this?" Tom asked, walking quickly toward Allen. His eyes were locked onto the pan of roasted vegetables with unconcealed hunger. "Mind if I try some?"

"Of course," Allen replied, smiling. "Thanks again for lending me the kitchen."

"Then I won't be shy!" Tom said, waving his wand. A fork floated into his hand, glinting under the kitchen's yellow light.

He speared a piece of the roasted cabbage and took a bite.

The effect was instantaneous.

His eyes bulged. His face twisted into an expression of disbelief. Then—without a moment's hesitation—he began forking piece after piece into his mouth like a man possessed.

"This... this is so delicious!" he shouted, his voice rising like a character in an over-the-top food commercial.

Tom couldn't stop. The fork danced from pan to mouth in a frenzied rhythm. Within seconds, more than half of the dish was gone.

Black, seeing his meal vanishing before his eyes, let out a shrill screech and flapped his wings in outrage. He looked about ready to leap onto Tom's head and peck out the few remaining hairs left on his scalp.

Allen intervened just in time, reaching into the pan to save a piece and holding it out to Black.

The crow snatched it with glee, devouring it in two or three quick pecks. His eyes glazed over in bliss, a mirror of Tom's euphoric expression.

It was like they'd both been hit by some magical drug.

Allen didn't blame them.

He still remembered the first time he'd tasted a dish cooked with [Hand of God]—in the wild, during his early experiments. That moment had completely changed his understanding of food. It was something beyond gourmet... closer to a magical awakening.

It had nearly driven him crazy with delight.

Compared to that, Tom and Black's reactions were almost tame.

Allen crossed his arms and looked at the half-empty baking pan.

This dish wasn't perfect—not yet—but it had clear potential. Especially now that he knew his cooking could multiply the value of magical ingredients. That was a game-changer.

And he could feel it in his bones:

This was just the beginning.