Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle…
The sound of fresh beef grilling over high heat fills the air.
A bead of fat glides down the marbled surface of the meat before falling away—and with it, a rich, smoky fragrance curls into the air. It seeps into the senses, igniting a primal hunger from deep within.
When the timing is just right, a slice of beef is deftly picked up with chopsticks and tasted.
Fresh.
Fragrant.
Tender.
Smooth.
Texture and flavor meld into one, dancing across the tongue before sliding satisfyingly down the throat.
In ancient times, using water or oil to heat food was a rare luxury. Frying, sautéing, deep-frying—these were considered advanced techniques.
But roasting? Roasting was primal. Primitive humans merely held food close to the fire and let the flames kiss it until it was ready to eat.
Even today, in a bustling tavern where anything can be ordered, grilled meat remains the most beloved dish.
"Is this the place…?"
Holding a hand-drawn map, Ikumi Mito stared at the tavern in front of her.
Originally, she'd been tasked by Erina Nakiri to handle the Over Rice Research Society.
But then, out of nowhere, Soma Yukihira challenged her to a Shokugeki—set for the very next morning.
Ever since, she'd been plagued by unease.
Could she really beat him with her current skills?
In the end, after much deliberation, she'd followed the address Hisako had quietly slipped her, arriving at this small tavern under cover of night.
Sniff.
"…Is that… grilled meat?"
"I can't believe such a tiny tavern is making something that smells this good… I could catch the scent from outside."
Maybe Hisako was right. There's something worth learning here.
Ikumi, who prided herself on her meat dishes, had a notoriously low resistance to the scent of beef. Her golden eyes lit up with curiosity and hunger as she stepped inside.
"Welcome!"
"This is the tavern. Sit anywhere you like."
"We don't have a fixed menu—just ask for whatever you want. If we've got the ingredients, or I can make it, I'll cook it."
Zane paused.
A bronze-skinned girl with sharp eyes stood in the doorway, scanning the room with quiet caution.
Ever since opening this tavern, it seemed like fate had decided to tether him to Totsuki Academy. Every other day, a student found their way here—clearly pulled in from the canon storylines.
Judging by the timing, this must be pre-Over Rice Society Ikumi… still working under Erina.
That realization gave him a little relief.
"What a strange rule for a restaurant…"
Ikumi mumbled as she sat, still surprised by the unconventional setup.
Customers like Erina, Alice, and Rindou were already used to it. But for someone new like Ikumi, the tavern felt… unpredictable.
"Here—jasmine tea."
Zane gently placed a cup beside her.
"…Thank you."
Caught off guard, Ikumi blinked before lifting the warm cup. After blowing on it a few times, she took a tentative sip.
The taste was light and floral, like a spring breeze brushing across her face.
Good jasmine tea isn't just about the flowers…
It's the quality of the tea leaves too.
The gentle flavor danced across her tongue, calming her nerves.
She exhaled softly, letting herself relax. Her eyes flicked to a nearby table.
"Owner, the beef you're using… it's not A5, is it?"
"As you can see, it's just ordinary supermarket beef. Nothing fancy."
Zane didn't deny it.
Beef grading varies across the world.
In the U.S., it's based on marbling and physiological maturity—grades range from Prime, Choice, Select, down to Canner.
Australia uses a 1–9 marbling scale (M1–M9), with high-end Wagyu lines extending into M10–M12.
And Japan?
Japan uses a dual-grade system:
Yield grade: A, B, C.
Marbling (BMS) grade: 1 to 5.
This results in 15 total combinations, with A5 being the highest—famous for its intricate marbling, earning the nickname frost-descended beef.
Zane rarely used A5 beef, even with access to high-quality ingredients through the system.
Why?
Because this tavern wasn't for elites. It was for everyone.
Using premium Wagyu would only scare people away.
"…Hard to believe."
"You're using common beef, yet customers still love it?"
Ikumi looked genuinely stunned—and slightly disappointed.
Her family ran a premium beef business. She'd eaten so much A5 beef in her life that the thought of another slice nearly made her gag.
To be served ordinary beef… was disheartening.
"Of course, the quality of ingredients matters," Zane said calmly, "but what matters more—are the hands preparing them."
"I—I know that already!"
Blushing slightly, Ikumi glanced away.
After a moment, she added, "Hisako told me you're from China. So… I'll have a dish of Shandong-style stir-fried beef with green onions—and two bowls of rice!"
"Coming right up."
Stir-fried beef with green onions may seem simple—but its magic lies in the stir-frying.
This high-heat Chinese technique releases aromatic compounds in onions—like thiophenes, aliphatic sulfides, and others—unlocking savory complexity when combined with meat.
Ingredients:
Beef tenderloin
Scallions
Green and red peppers
Ginger, garlic, starch, soy sauce, sugar, vinegar, and cooking wine
Zane's knife danced.
Beef was sliced at a 90° angle against the grain to break connective tissues.
Scallions and peppers were chopped.
The beef was marinated with wine, salt, and ginger.
Then: a hot wok.
The beef was flash-fried until it changed color—then removed.
A second pan, new oil. Ginger, garlic, onions sizzled. Peppers and onion chunks joined in. The beef returned to the pan. Soy sauce, vinegar, sugar followed.
Finally, a quick thickening—a slurry of starch that helped lock in moisture and make the onions cling to the beef.
A sprinkle of scallions on top… and the dish was ready.
The plate glistened under the lights.
The beef—bright red and juicy.
The scallions—vivid green, nestled among crisp peppers and tender onions.
It was a painting of flavor.
Ikumi's eyes narrowed, studying the glossy sheen on the beef.
"Did you use a thickening slurry at the end?"
"Of course," Zane nodded. "Isn't it obvious?"
Thickening uses starch—like potato, mung bean, or lotus root starch—heated with water to form a viscous sauce. It locks moisture inside ingredients and makes flavors stick.
Here, it bound scallion oils to the beef—ensuring each bite carried a full punch of aroma.
"Cooking is a dance between flavor and technique," Zane said. "Whether marinating, stir-frying, or thickening—it all adds up. But the core is still the stir-fry. If you mess that up, the onion fragrance won't develop, and the dish falls flat."
"But enough talk—eat. You'll understand."
Ikumi nodded, slowly picking up her chopsticks.
One bite.
Juices burst forth.
The beef was tender, the onion flavor bold yet balanced.
Each chew brought a wave of umami, followed by a sweet, mellow heat from the peppers.
Even Ikumi—who'd long grown tired of elite cuts—couldn't resist.
This was simple. But it was perfect.
Fresh.
Savory.
Crisp.
Addictive.
Her chopsticks moved faster, scooping rice, beef, onion—then more rice again.
And suddenly…
She was no longer in a tavern.
She was a lone gunslinger in a desert, dressed in a rugged cowboy outfit.
Dust swirled. A wild cow galloped toward her.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
She fired.
The beast charged on—unfazed.
The scent of beef filled the air like a divine fragrance.
"No… no…!"
Back in the real world, Ikumi's knees squeezed together, eyes rolling back. She let out a tiny gasp—and fainted on the spot.