[SS3] Hilda Everett's Three-Minute (To Ruin Everything) Cooking

Dressed in her lab coat, Hilda Everett voiced a question to her recently adopted daughter, Monica.

“What precautions should you take when using the precision scale for experiments?”

“Use it on a flat surface and, erm, don’t touch it with your bare hands.”

“Why should you not touch it with your bare hands?”

“Because the oils on your skin, uh, can cause the equipment to rust, erm, making accurate measurements impossible.”

“Well done.”

As Hilda praised her with a smile, Monica lowered her gaze and fiddled with her fingers in embarrassment.

Monica’s appearance and hesitant way of speaking made her seem younger than her twelve years.

…However, compared to when Hilda first took her in, she had improved considerably.

When Hilda first adopted Monica, she was severely underweight, and her weakness was so pronounced that she found it challenging to eat solid food. Above all, her language skills were even more rudimentary than they were now.

When Hilda mentioned how Monica liked numbers, Monica replied emotionlessly:

——Because numbers aren’t scary.

Hilda was left speechless.

Numbers aren’t scary——conversely, it meant that words were frightening for Monica.

This was a girl who had been hurt by many unkind words. Forgetting how to speak and immersing herself in the world of numbers was a coping mechanism she employed to protect herself.

Hilda had known Monica since her early childhood. Certainly, Monica had always displayed more interest in numbers than picture books, even as a child… However, she was still capable of a proper smile.

Hilda wanted to do something about this. And for that, building a trusting relationship with Monica was crucial.

The best way to build trust was through some form of collaboration. Thus, Hilda decided on this.

“This beginner’s guide to making sweets says, ‘In confectionery, precision in measurement is essential’…” declared Hilda confidently, gazing at the ingredients measured with the precision scale.

“In other words, it’s no exaggeration to say we’ve already completed these cookies with our perfect measurements.”

That was definitely an exaggeration.

Regardless, Hilda handed the book to Monica with complete confidence.

“Now, let’s move on to the next step. Can you read the recipe for me?”

“Yes. Um… next, you put sugar into the butter and mix well.”

Hilda put butter and sugar into a bowl and tried to knead them with a wooden spatula.

However, because it was cold today, the butter was still hard and wouldn’t mix easily.

Seeing Monica staring into the bowl with concern, Hilda, in an effort to reassure her, put on the face of a composed adult.

“In these sorts of situations, you do it like this.”

Hilda placed the bowl with butter and sugar on top of a pot filled with hot water, creating a double boiler.

This melted the butter and allowed it to mix with the sugar.

The butter would melt when put in the oven either way, so Hilda concluded that it wouldn’t be a problem if it melted early. She then turned back to Monica.

“It’s mixed. Now, what’s next?”

“Um, add the beaten eggs in several parts and mix well.”

Following the instructions, Hilda poured the beaten eggs into the bowl in several scoops and stirred vigorously.

Monica couldn’t help but wonder if the cookie dough being so gooey was okay, but well, adding flour should make it come together nicely.

“It’s done. What’s next?”

“Um, next is sifting in the flour.”

“Sifting in the flour, huh.”

After repeating, Hilda grasped a handful of wheat flour.

Then, swinging her arm widely…

“Hmph!”

She slammed the flour into the bowl.

The wheat flour scattered with a puff, covering her upper body. Unconcerned, Hilda continued scooping up and throwing the flour.

After adding all the flour this way, Hilda turned to Monica with her flour-covered face.

“Cough… Remember this, Monica. There’s another important part of this step… ventilation.”

“Ventilation?”

Hilda nodded and opened the kitchen window wide.

The north wind blew in, making it uncomfortably cold.

“When handling fire in the presence of a certain concentration of combustible powder suspended in the air, an explosion can occur due to the propagation of combustion… I once found myself on the verge of death because of that.”

“M-Making sweets is scary, huh?”

“It’s okay. If you follow the correct steps, you can surely make something delicious.”

At this point, Hilda was already not following various precautions. However, that was something neither of them were aware of.

“Now then, let’s gather up our courage and move on to the next step. What does it say to do?”

“Um… mix the flour thoroughly.”

“I see, mixing thoroughly… This is a dangerous operation, so Monica, step back a little.”

Hilda put down the wooden spatula, picking up a knife with the blade facing down, and vigorously stirred the bowl with the knife’s edge.

Note that mixing would actually be done lightly with a spatula. It does not involve stirring with a knife.

“Now the dough is ready! All that’s left is to roll it out, cut it with a mold, and bake it… Come to think of it, I don’t have a mold at home, so I guess we’ll just have to stretch it out and cut it by eye.”

Hilda casually stretched out the lumpy dough covered in spots.

“Let’s do it together, Monica.”

“Yes!”

Following Hilda, Monica spread the dough with her palms. Kneading this type of dough turned out to be unexpectedly enjoyable. The two concentrated on the work of stretching the dough, lost in thought.

After the two had finished spreading the dough, Hilda realized something.

She hadn’t used the oven in years, and due to dust and grease stains, it was not in a usable state.

“In times like this, there’s no need to rush or panic. A capable woman solves it with highly controlled micro-flame magic.”

After Hilda ignited a fire with a shortened incantation, Monica looked up and stared at Hilda’s face.

“Hilda-san, that’s amazing!”

Compared to children of the same age, Monica’s reaction was awkward, but her face still radiated admiration.

Tickled and pleased by this, Hilda smiled.

Unaware that the object intended to become cookies was emitting black smoke in front of her.

＊　＊　＊

“Monica, Nero, I’ve baked some cookies. Let’s have tea.”

Isaac’s voice made Monica hastily write the last sentence of her report.

Nero, who had been napping on top of the bookshelf, smoothly descended and transformed into a human, then sat on a chair.

Recently, Nero often took on a human form when it came to eating sweets. It was easier to eat this way, or so he claimed.

Nero leaned back in his chair as he looked up at Isaac, who was arranging plates on the table.

“I still haven’t gotten used to you calling me Nero. Feels kinda weird.”

“Then should I call you Mr. Bartholomew Alexander?”

“Senpai works. I’ve been around Monica longer than you have, after all. Address me with respect and call me Senpai.”

“I might consider it if you remember my name.”

“You’re quite cheeky, Sparkles.”

Nero glared at Isaac while reaching for the plate of cookies.

However, before Nero’s fingertips could grasp anything, Isaac swiftly moved the plate out of reach.

Nero pursed his lips and turned to Monica, who was still working on her report.

“Monica, hurry up! Are you done yet? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, just wait a bit… done!”

As Monica lifted her face, Isaac took the quill from her hand and placed it back in the pen stand, all in one fluid motion. Then, he placed a cup of coffee in front of Monica.

“There you go, enjoy.”

“Thank you very much.”

Monica took a sip of the coffee before grabbing a cookie Isaac had made.

The flower-shaped cookies with jam in the center were crisp and delicious. The taste was so refined that it wouldn’t be out of place at a tea party at Serendia Academy. Their golden color was also impeccable.

While Monica nibbled on the cookies, Nero devoured them voraciously.

“These crispy ones are amazing, but I like the salty ones you made the other day better than the sweet ones.”

“Oh right, the biscuits with salt and cheese. Those go well with wine.”

Isaac responded with a gentle nod and took a bite of a cookie himself. Then, in a low voice, he muttered, “Not bad.”

Although Isaac called them “not bad,” to Monica, this was an extremely impressive achievement.

Monica knew how challenging and difficult it was to bake cookies.

“Ike, you’re amazing. Making sweets is really, really, really hard.”

Her tone seemed rather solemn, so Isaac blinked a few times and tilted his head.

He noticed Monica staring intently at his clothes.

As far as Monica knew, making cookies was a messy job, especially when sifting flour. Flour tended to scatter everywhere.

Yet for some reason, Isaac’s clothes were completely clean.

“Ike, you’re good at sifting flour… Oh, but please be careful of flour dust explosions.”

“…Huh?”

Imagining Isaac clenching flour in his fist and forcefully slamming it into the bowl, Monica earnestly murmured, “Ventilation is important.”

Hilda Everett’s cooking mishaps. Don’t try this at home, kids.

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