Upstart Pastry Chef ~Territory Management of a Genius Pâtisserie~ - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Inaugural Honey Cookies

Carrying a bottle tightly packed with hard-earned honey, Tina and I returned to the house in the pioneering village.

Our home was a shabby dugout shack.

In the rush to develop new land, residences needed to be built quickly and in large numbers, so all the houses in the pioneering village were similar. Just because I was the eldest son of the baron didn’t mean we could afford luxury.

But it was enough.

It provided shelter from the rain and wind, and Tina was with me. I didn’t ask for more.

“Phew, we finally made it home. The bottle was so heavy, but it’s a happy weight!”

“Yeah, it’s proof that it’s packed with honey.”

We laughed together.

From now on, we could expect a stable harvest of plenty of honey every year. Three years of hard work had paid off here.

Next year, let’s increase the bees and flowers even more. Beekeeping was something I started for my dream, but it also brought in money. Occasionally, when I went to the big city to the south, I saw honey on display in shops and it seemed to fetch a decent price.

“Now, let’s use today’s honey to make some sweets. I’m hungry, and let’s prepare something quick.”

“Can I help?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Heh. So, I see I won’t be allowed to help with sweets. Okay, while I wait, I’ll take care of the housework.”

Tina smiled and walked away.

I left the daily meals to Tina, but I couldn’t relinquish control when it came to sweets.

From start to finish, I needed to do it all myself to feel satisfied.

Measuring the flour, the number of times and the force with which you stir, the baking time and temperature— even the slightest error can be fatal in pastry making.

And then there’s the temperature, humidity, and condition of the ingredients. The optimal solution changes with these subtle differences. It’s something you can’t entrust to just anyone.

“Now, let’s get started.”

I decided to make cookies. I didn’t want to keep her waiting too long. Cookies wouldn’t take too much time.

First, I put firewood into the stone oven and lit a fire. It takes time for the oven to heat up, so it’s best to do this first.

From outside, I could hear the sound of chopping wood. Tina was splitting the firewood.

She’s working hard. I have to make sweets to repay her efforts.

I took out a bag of flour and sifted it through a sieve into a container with a mesh bottom.

Flour grains actually vary slightly in size. By using only small grains of wheat, it’s less likely to clump and can incorporate air.

I did this twice. Whatever was left in the sieve, I put back neatly into the flour bag. It’s not suitable for sweets, but it’s still edible, so I can’t just throw it away.

Then, I transferred the sifted flour into a bowl.

I licked some honey. Checked the sugar content. It’s about 75 degrees. So the honey-water mixture ratio would be 9:0.7 for the cookies. That’s the best. I scooped water with a ladle and mixed it with honey. A top-notch chef’s arms become sensors. Just by scooping with a spoon or ladle, you can accurately determine the weight in one-gram increments.

I tasted the moderately diluted honey. The preparation was going well.

“Good taste. Choosing those flowers was definitely the right decision.”

I was satisfied with the honey all over again.

The taste of honey varies greatly depending on the type of bee and the taste of the flower nectar they feed on. Basically, bees continue to collect nectar from the same flower once they’ve started. So by choosing the nectar from certain flowers, you can control the taste.

Choosing raspberries was a big decision because they bloom twice a year, are resistant to disease, and their honey has a mild taste that can be used in most sweets.

…I also have beehives prepared where bees are fed with nectar from different flowers to optimize for a specific purpose as an experiment, but that’s for another time.

“Now, there should still be some butter.”

I took out the butter from the bottom shelf.

Butter is a precious commodity in the pioneer village. It’s made from the milk of the few livestock in the village: goats. The milk is distributed to each household in rotation since there isn’t enough milk produced daily to cover the entire village.

I process the milk into butter and store it.

I took out the necessary amount and warmed it near the fire.

If the butter is too cold, it won’t mix well with the flour, but if it’s too warm, it will lose its flavor. Finding the right temperature is crucial.

I also warmed the mixture of honey and water. There’s no point in pouring cold liquid into properly warmed butter.

“Now, preparations are complete.”

It’s finally time to make sweets.

First, mix the butter, honey, and water. Then, add the flour and knead by hand.

When making cookie dough, it’s important not to over-knead. Mixing too much here will cause the butter to melt due to body temperature, to lose its flavor, create gluten, and lose the crispy texture, resulting in a flat, bland hardness like a rice cracker.

Mix thoroughly without forming lumps in a short time. Making cookies is deceptively simple yet profound. Think of it as the sensation of slicing.

“Let’s take a little break.”

The dough needs to rest in a dark place for about 30 minutes.

While the dough is resting, I jot down progress reports for the pioneer village to send to my father, who is the lord.

It’s my duty as the village’s headman to report progress regularly.

“This should do… Now, it’s the perfect time.”

By the time I finished the progress reports, the cookie dough was in good shape.

I placed the cookie dough on the cutting board.

It needs to be rolled out thinly with a rolling pin. For this type of wheat, a thickness of about four millimeters should be appropriate, although it can vary depending on the ingredients used.

It’s important to note that the more you handle cookie dough, the more its flavor diminishes.

For example, even in the process of re-rolling the dough after cutting out shapes, the gluten forms as the dough is kneaded again, resulting in a loss of crispness.

Sometimes you see a technique where the dough is rolled into a ball and then flattened, but I consider that a sacrilege to cookies.

As a rule, you’re only allowed to handle the cookie dough once to roll it out thinly. And even then, it must be rolled out to a perfectly uniform thickness to prevent uneven baking. There’s no room for error.

“Alright, that went well.”

I cut the rolled-out dough into squares with a stone knife.

Ideally, I would like iron cooking utensils, but iron is still precious and expensive, so I’ll have to make do with this for now.

I arrange the cut cookies evenly on a stone slab.

Then, I place the stone slab with the cut cookies into the well-heated oven.

The ideal baking temperature for cookies is 170 degrees Celsius. In this era, you have to maintain this temperature by constantly adjusting the firewood.

It’s a dreadful task. You can’t take your eyes off it for a moment.

It takes about ten minutes for the cookies to bake.

I focused all my attention on the fire.

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“Phew, they’re done.”

By the time the cookies were baked, I was drenched in sweat.

Even for making such a simple pastry, it’s a struggle in this world’s cultural standards.

But the effort was worth it.

I take out the cookies from the oven.

They’re beautifully fox-colored, baked to perfection. The enticing aroma of butter and sweet honey mixes together and fills the air.

“Wow, it smells amazing.”

I’m startled by a sudden voice from behind.

Before I know it, Tina is standing there.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve been back for a while since I finished splitting firewood. I’ve been watching you staring at the oven the whole time.”

“You should have said something.”

“Well, you always seem so serious when you’re making sweets, I thought you might get upset if I interrupted.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

I wouldn’t want to be interrupted with even a millimeter off in my work, especially in the delicate process of making sweets.

“And, well, you look really cool when you’re so focused, Kurt. I wanted to keep watching.”

“Thanks, but now you’re making me blush.”

As I say this, there’s a cute little rumble from Tina’s stomach.

She blushes deeply, her fox ears drooping slightly.

“Um, sorry about that, Kurt. It’s just that it smelled so delicious.”

I can’t help but smile at her apology.

“No worries, it just shows how much you were looking forward to my sweets. Shall we try them now?”

Tina’s eyes sparkled in response to my question…

“Yes!”

She exclaimed with enthusiasm.