Upon arriving at the supermarket, Gustave and Ran decided it would be more efficient to split up. They would each create their own part of the meal, so they went their separate ways, each taking one of the boys to help carry the ingredients. Gustave was paired with Sengoku.
"Alright, Sengoku, what are you in the mood for tonight?" Gustave asked. He hadn't planned a menu this time, preferring to improvise, so he figured he might as well consult the appetite of the young man beside him.
"Hmm," Sengoku pondered for a moment. "I want meat. And Mapo Tofu."
"Anything else?"
"Nope."
Gustave sighed. He should have known better than to rely on Sengoku for culinary inspiration. The boy was a black hole of consumption, not a wellspring of ideas. Still, at least he had a starting point: Mapo Tofu. The rest, it seemed, was up to him.
With a push of the cart, Gustave decided to let the ingredients guide him. He ambled down the produce aisle, his eyes scanning the vibrant displays. After just a few steps, he spotted a bin of potatoes of all shapes and sizes, and a dish immediately came to mind. He grabbed a few large, starchy potatoes and a fresh bunch of scallions.
Next to the potatoes was a stall selling crisp water bamboo. Since Sengoku wanted meat, another idea sparked. "Stir-fried Pork and Water Bamboo," he mused aloud. He picked up two pale, firm stalks. "Sengoku, do me a favor and find a jar of pickled chili peppers, the kind imported from China."
As Sengoku wandered off, Gustave's eyes landed on a bundle of slender, green asparagus. Blanched Asparagus. He selected a delicate bunch, weighing about seventy or eighty grams in his hand. While choosing the asparagus, he noticed a large display of fresh mint, its cool fragrance perfuming the air. A fourth dish clicked into place: Crispy Mint-Fried Pork Ribs.
In just a few minutes, four dishes had materialized in his mind. It was always faster to build a menu from the ingredients themselves. Including Sengoku's request for Mapo Tofu, he now had five. Since Ran was also cooking, Gustave decided to round out his contribution with a simple soup. Tomato and egg drop soup was perfect; the ingredients were easy to find and the method was straightforward.
He gathered the remaining items, then realized Sengoku had yet to return with the pickled peppers. The boy had simply vanished. With a sigh, Gustave took his own ingredients and went to find his wayward assistant.
He didn't have to look far. Just a few aisles over, Gustave stopped dead in his tracks. "I didn't expect to find fresh yuba here!"
The moment he saw the sheets of fried tofu skin, he knew he had to add one more dish: a chilled yuba salad. That made six dishes and one soup.
When Gustave finally located Sengoku, he found the young man holding the jar of pickled chilies while shamelessly trying to charm two high school girls.
Gustave felt a vein throb in his temple. I'm over here working my brain to the bone planning a feast for you, and I ask for one jar of peppers. And you use that as an opportunity to pick up girls?
A murderous aura settling around him, Gustave came up silently behind Sengoku and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Don't bother me!" Sengoku snapped, trying to shrug the hand off. A sudden chill ran down his spine. He seemed to realize something, his face twitched, and he turned his head with the creaking slowness of a rusty hinge. "I know I was wrong!" he squeaked.
Gustave couldn't exactly throttle him in the middle of a crowded supermarket, so he offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's good that you know," he said sweetly. "In that case, I'll leave these with you."
He then dumped his entire armload of groceries into Sengoku's hands. With a pained expression, Sengoku could only bid a tearful farewell to the two giggling girls and trudge after his mentor.
When they regrouped with Ran and Eiji at the checkout, Ran glanced at the mountain of food in Sengoku's arms, then at the modest selection in her and Eiji's hands, and felt a pang of uncertainty. "Did I buy too little?"
"Ran, what's wrong?" Gustave asked, waving a hand in front of her face.
"Oh, it's nothing," she said with a small smile. "I was just wondering if I should get more. There are quite a few of us for dinner tonight."
"This should be plenty," Gustave reassured her. "I have six dishes and a soup planned, and you have your dishes as well. We just need rice. It will be more than enough."
"I suppose so," she agreed, her confidence restored.
The four of them carried their groceries back to Dr. Agasa's house.
When they arrived, they found only Tezuka and Sonoko in the living room. The moment Tezuka saw them return, his entire body seemed to relax, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He shot to his feet, quickly took the bags from them, and headed straight for the kitchen to start washing the vegetables.
"What happened to Tezuka?" Gustave wondered, his face a mask of confusion. But if Tezuka wanted to help, he wasn't going to stop him.
"Tezuka, help me pick the leaves off this mint, then wash the rest of these," Gustave directed.
"No problem," Tezuka replied, his focus absolute. He took the bunch of mint, found a small stool, and sat down, meticulously beginning his task.
Gustave, meanwhile, filled a large stockpot with water and set it on the stove to boil. He needed the hot water for both soaking the yuba and parboiling the potatoes. Once the water reached a rolling boil, he placed the dried yuba sheets in a large basin and poured the scalding water over them, ensuring they were fully submerged.
While the yuba soaked, he scrubbed the potatoes clean and dropped them into the pot to cook. Once they were tender, he drained them and rinsed them under cold water until they were cool enough to handle, then easily peeled away the skins. Using a chef's knife, he roughly chopped the cooked potatoes into chunks and set them aside.
Next came the meat. He deftly sliced a loin of pork into thin, uniform pieces and chopped a rack of ribs into bite-sized segments. A flicker of blue bio-electricity danced across his fingertips as he seasoned the sliced pork with salt, light soy sauce, oyster sauce, and a touch of cornstarch. He gently massaged the marinade into the meat, the microcurrents from his Rumble-Rumble Fruit powers working on a cellular level, tenderizing the proteins and deepening the flavor infusion in a fraction of the normal time.
For the ribs, he added salt and flour, rubbing them vigorously to clean them before rinsing them thoroughly. He then seasoned them with salt, soy sauce, oyster sauce, and chili powder, mixing well before sealing them with a thin layer of oil to marinate.
By the time the meat was ready, the yuba was perfectly rehydrated. Gustave drained it, rinsed it in cold water, and tore it by hand into irregular, rustic pieces. He tossed the yuba in a bowl with chopped scallions, minced garlic, soy sauce, oyster sauce, chili powder, and a splash of vinegar. A drizzle of fragrant red chili oil finished the dish, giving the Chilled Yuba Salad a beautiful, glossy sheen.
The second dish was Flash-Blanched Asparagus. After peeling the tough outer skin from the lower stalks, he cut the asparagus in half. He brought a pot of water to a near-boil, adding a pinch of salt and a few drops of vegetable oil to keep the asparagus vibrantly green. He blanched the stalks just until they were cooked through but still crisp, then arranged them on a plate. He poured over a bit of steamed fish soy sauce, topped them with shredded scallion and red pepper, and finished the dish with a dramatic sizzle by pouring smoking-hot oil over the top.
"Tezuka, is the mint ready?"
"All picked. I'll bring it over after I wash it!"
Perfect. The third dish was Crispy Mint-Fried Pork Ribs. Gustave precisely regulated the temperature of a wok full of oil using his electromagnetic abilities, creating the perfect environment for frying. When the oil was exactly seventy percent hot, he slid in the marinated ribs, frying them until their surface was a tempting, lightly charred gold before removing them. He then tossed the fresh mint leaves into the now pork-infused oil, frying them until they were dry and fragrant. He removed the crispy leaves and arranged them as a bed on a platter.
He returned the ribs to the wok for a second frying, this time adding dried chili segments, Sichuan peppercorns, and shredded ginger. The oil, now carrying the essence of the mint, imparted a subtle, cooling fragrance to the twice-fried ribs. Once they were perfectly crisp, he scooped them out, along with all the aromatics, and piled them high on the bed of fried mint.
For the fourth dish, Gustave prepared the Stir-fried Pork and Water Bamboo. He heated his wok, added a splash of oil, and stir-fried the marinated pork slices until they just changed color before removing them. Using the remaining oil, he spooned in two generous dollops of the pickled chilies Sengoku had fetched, frying them until the oil turned a brilliant red. He added the sliced water bamboo, stir-frying until it was nearly cooked, then returned the pork to the wok, tossing everything together. The meat was already seasoned, but he used a pair of chopsticks to taste a piece of the water bamboo, adjusting the seasoning perfectly.
The fifth dish was the Rustic Smashed Potatoes. He heated oil in the wok, adding a little chili powder to bloom its fragrance. He tossed in the boiled potato chunks and, while stir-frying, used his spatula to press and crush them into a coarse, chunky paste. He seasoned the potatoes with salt, soy sauce, and oyster sauce. Just before plating, he folded in a generous handful of chopped scallions. It was a simple, hearty, and delicious dish.
The sixth dish was the Classic Mapo Tofu, a recipe he had perfected long ago.
Finally, the soup. It couldn't be simpler. He chopped tomatoes, stir-fried them in a hot, oiled pot until they broke down into a rich sauce, then added water, the amount carefully measured for the number of guests. Once the soup boiled, he slowly drizzled in a stream of beaten eggs along the edge of the pot, letting them cook into delicate, flower-like ribbons. A touch of salt, sugar, and white pepper was all it needed to become a comforting Silken Tomato and Egg Drop Soup.