My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!

Marron had adobo dozens of times in her life, but the meat was normally chicken, beef, or pork. The familiar smell of soy sauce, garlic, and bay leaves enveloped her like a weighted blanket. And then she had a bite of the lamb.

It was cooked til tender and still had a slightly gamey taste, but it was still delicious. And now she wanted a heaping bowl of white rice to go with it.

The taste made her heart ache. She longed for her mother's kitchen back on Earth, and for the flavors that were uniquely hers. But within the ache was comfort. Marron wasn't repeating a recipe she once found online, but tweaked her mother's recipe.

It wasn't "a completely new dish," but it was a start.

Mom's chicken adobo will always be the best, but this is pretty close.

"Mmm!" Mokko had one spoonful and eagerly went back for more. "The meat is rich and tender, soaked in soy sauce. The vinegar is tangy on the tongue, too!"

Lucy slurped up the stew before chomping on the meat. Marron looked at her absorb the food and enjoyed watching the meat slowly disappear. "It's so soft, and warm." Her face scrunched up as she absorbed the vinegar. "Bit too sour for me, but it's still a good dish."

She tilted her head in wonder. "It feels like something you'd eat when it rains."

"Mmhm. It's my mom's recipe. She said more vinegar made sure it lasted forever."

Marron grew up in a country with only two seasons: dry as a bone, or a never-ending downpour. And sometimes, the rain brought flooding with them. In some cases, the electricity cut out, and her mom said they were lucky she made adobo that day, because it could sustain them until the power returned.

By the time the pot was scraped nearly clean, Mokko lay sprawled on the counter, groaning in happy defeat. Lucy twitched her tendrils like someone humming after a lullaby. Marron, though, sat straighter than ever.

"This is it," she whispered. "This is the balance."

+

The next morning, the cart opened earlier than usual, and Marron stocked up on reusable bowls. Part of her felt like it was an assumption, like they were going to ask for second helpings. She shut down this internal critic right away.

It's a reusable bowl because I don't want them to throw it away. If they do anyway, at least I tried.

Marron ladled steaming bowls of lamb adobo onto trays, each one fragrant with garlic and bay leaf.

The first customers leaned in cautiously—miners on their way to the guild, a mother with two hungry children, a half-elf trader who normally preferred bread and cheese.

"Lamb…what?" one of the miners asked.

"Adobo," Marron said, steady. "Slow-simmered lamb with garlic, vinegar, and soy."

They exchanged skeptical looks, but one sip of the broth silenced their doubts. Soon the stall was buzzing with clattering spoons and murmurs of approval.

"Warms the bones," the miner declared, scraping his bowl. "I'll be back tomorrow."

The half-elf nodded gravely. "Sour and savory…strong enough to keep you awake through the market noise."

The mother's children licked their spoons clean, giggling as the vinegar made them pucker and laugh.

Marron's heart soared. Not because she had sold bowls, but because the food connected. Just as Sylwen and Charity had said—memory and comfort, yet also new, bright, and balanced.

+

Word traveled fast. By noon, Charity appeared again, notebook in hand.

"I heard you made lamb disappear," she teased, leaning against the cart.

Marron flushed, setting down her ladle. "Adobo, actually. Do you want to—"

Charity was already sliding a coin across the counter. "Yes."

She ate with her usual poise, but the tiny lift of her eyebrows gave her away. "Tangy, layered, comforting. This will catch on." She tapped her notebook thoughtfully. "The vinegar might divide opinions. Some will crave it, others will find it strange. But strange can be powerful."

"Mmhm. I also ordered some reusable bowls, too. In case they want to take some home."

Charity smiled at that. "Good. Now you're thinking like a business owner. Customers like free gifts, especially useful ones."

Her gaze sharpened. "Be ready, Marron. If you keep drawing this much attention, Zehra won't be your only rival."

Marron's chest tightened. "You mean the other guild chefs?"

Charity's smile was small, but knowing. "The Silver Spoon is proud. They don't enjoy being upstaged." She closed her notebook with a snap. "But pride can't erase flavor. That's why I'm on your side."

Marron watched her leave, that single word lingering again.

Bridge.

+

After a successful taste test, the only thing left to do was to pack it up and see how the general public enjoyed it.

Lucy happily broke down the remaining meat and oils in the bowls and utensils, leaving them clean and shiny.

Marron appreciated her presence because it gave her more time to review her notes.

Lamb adobo: success.

Customers: 50/50 for the vinegar, but that's okay.

Ask Halloway about Legendary Tools. What are they?

She thought that having a food cart would make her one of many vendors in Savoria, but she happened to land on one that made her food tastier than her actual skill level.

Isn't that a little too coincidental though? I fill out a form and get isekai'd, then I land on a special cart that comes with a bear?

Marron glanced at Mokko, who smiled at her from across the room, but looked puzzled.

"Huh. Like I'm a main character or something. Weird."

She shrugged and looked at what she could do next, special cart or not. If she did indeed have a legendary tool, she wasn't going to give it up without a fight.

Hopefully the guildmaster would tell her more when she met up with him.

Marron took a deep breath and looked out the window. The late afternoon was already slowly melting into night.

Lucy happily bounced next to her notebook. "All done!"

She smiled and petted Lucy's gentle gelatinous head. "Thank you. Ready for sleep?"

Lucy used her tendrils to mimic stretching. "Yes!"