Chapter 4

    The First Problem to Solve

    Three days later... Little Kit had begun to get along well with the other children. Sleeping in the shared dormitory was no longer a problem. His previously frail health was steadily improving. He could now move around more comfortably. Not only that, but he confidently volunteered to help in the kitchen as a kitchen hand.

    "Are you sure you know how to cook?..." Sister Lisa eyed the thin little boy with a wrinkled, skeptical expression. However, she refrained from using overly harsh words.

    "I'm sure. Apart from not remembering my name, I do have knowledge about a few things, especially cooking…" The small figure pondered for a moment before offering a suggestion. "How about this—let me show you what I can do first, and then you can decide, Sister. How does that sound?"

    "That’s not a problem, but our supplies..." She glanced at Sister Anne, her longtime friend, seeking permission. Managing the precious resources they had required a joint decision.

    Compared to the long winter ahead, their current provisions seemed meager. There were thirteen children under the age of ten at the orphanage, while those older and able to help numbered only three. Apart from himself—possessed by the soul of an otherworldly being—the other two were James and Anna. Both of them were responsible for gathering firewood and looking after the younger ones to keep them out of mischief... while also taking turns caring for him when he was sick at the beginning.

    It was already a heavy burden for them.

    Thus, the old man’s soul, filled with a sense of guilt and consideration, wanted to contribute something to everyone. Managing supplies wisely and bringing out the best flavor from the food was the only thing he could do at the moment.

    (Once my body gets stronger, I’ll scout the nearby forest... There should still be time.) As he waited for Sister Anne’s response, the little boy thought to himself. It was clear that proper nourishment was crucial to his recovery.

    "If you’re confident, then go ahead and give it a try... Cook something for just the three of us to taste. It won’t use up too many supplies." With that, Sister Anne scooped out three types of dried grains from a sack and handed him a few leftover rabbit bones stripped of meat, along with a misshapen carrot and half an onion. Then, she pointed to the salt jar near the stove.

    "The clean water is in the wooden barrel over there. Use any tools in this kitchen as you like..." After explaining, she turned to discuss with her elderly companion. Then, she announced the remaining activities. "Breakfast for the children is in two hours. Lisa and I will prepare the usual meal. If your cooking passes the test, you can start cooking with us tomorrow morning. Deal?"

    "Yes, Sister. I’ll do my best..." His eyes scanned the ingredients thoughtfully before a question popped into his head. "Do we have any animal fat stored?"

    "That... we use for treating cracked skin and frostbite in winter. We’ve been storing it for several years. Are you planning to use it for cooking?"

    "Uh... several years, you say…?" He thought to himself that it might taste unpleasant. "May I take a look first?"

    "Of course... The fat has a strange smell, so we don’t usually use it for cooking. It spoils after a year or two…"

    The cold kitchen floor was pried open to reveal an underground storage chamber where the temperature was much lower. A dark wooden jar was pulled out. Inside, the solidified white fat looked like hardened cream and gave off a fishy odor that was far from appetizing. The markings on the jar indicated the storage date clearly.

    "This jar is over a year old. By next summer, it’ll probably spoil. During winter, not many people run around in the snow getting hurt, so we rarely use it…"

    "I’ll give it a try… but I’m curious about something." Little Kit paused for a moment. "Do we eat so much meat that we’ve accumulated enough fat to fill a jar like this?"

    The two nuns exchanged a glance before chuckling softly. "It’s from the villagers. They collect and donate it to us. Each family keeps a portion for themselves, and the rest, they bring here." Upon hearing that, the sharp-minded little boy understood immediately.

    (It must be the leftovers they didn’t want and decided to throw away. What a waste of perfectly good stuff…)

    After finishing their conversation, the three of them went their separate ways to tend to their respective tasks. The boy, noticeably excited, tried to imagine the delicious dishes he wanted to prepare but found it difficult. What he desperately lacked were spices and aromatic herbs.

    In this era, good spices were as precious as gold. He didn’t bother asking about them, as he had carefully scanned the kitchen and found nothing resembling such luxuries. The food he’d eaten over the past week had no trace of them either—no black pepper, a vital seasoning for modern cuisine, and no oregano, bay leaf, sage, or thyme… nothing at all.

    (This is terrible. Just awful… Not even a single clove of garlic… Eh? Wild garlic could work.)

    He jolted slightly as a vivid memory from a documentary he’d watched before his death flashed through his mind. He clearly remembered the key characteristics to check when foraging for edible plants like wild garlic, wild onions, or wild mushrooms. When he recalled that the grassy patch near the forest edge by the church seemed to be full of such plants, he eagerly asked the nuns for permission to go gather something important.

    The morning sunlight had begun to brighten the sky, making it easier to spot the withering grass. However, the chilly air proved quite challenging for his small body, limiting how much he could collect.

    (This should be enough for the three of us. Oh, that’s wild onion.) His small hand brushed against a plump cluster of wild onions, their brown papery skins covering the bulbs. Wasting no time, he grabbed a tiny stick and carefully pried them out.

    (This is luxurious enough. Hee hee hee.) Hugging his precious find tightly to his chest with pride, the little boy scurried back to the warm, welcoming kitchen.

    Clean water was poured out to wash away the dirt from the wild herbs and rinse the dried grains. He then took a wooden mortar and began grinding the three types of large grains Sister Anne had given him until they turned into a coarse, consistent mixture. After that, he set it aside for a moment.

    The four wild onions were sliced lengthwise with a knife, wielded with a skill far beyond that of most children his age. The withered leaves of the wild garlic were removed, leaving only the tender stalks and underground bulbs. The distinctive aroma, so familiar to the old soul in the young body, wafted into his nose, prompting him to take a deep breath and savor it.

    (Ah... Just the smell of garlic is enough to make me swoon. Totally worth sniffing animal dung for days...) A clean living space was equally important, and that would be the next issue he’d tackle. But for now, cooking a delicious meal took priority—it was a crucial step to open the path for future improvements.

    He decided to make grain porridge cooked with wild garlic and onions fried in fat. Just imagining the finished dish was enough to make his mouth water.

    A small pot was placed over a moderately heated charcoal stove. A large spoonful of white animal fat was added and left to melt. Then, several pieces of rabbit bone, along with sliced wild garlic leaves and wild onions, were added gradually, filling the kitchen with a tantalizing aroma. Once the ingredients turned a golden color, he took the pot off the heat and placed the sautéed mixture into a prepared bowl.

    The same pot was returned to the fire, and the ground grains were added and dry-roasted over low heat until fragrant. He then poured several cups of clean water into the pot, along with the roasted rabbit bones, and let everything simmer until tender. Thinly sliced pieces of the misshapen carrot and half an onion from Sister Anne were also added.

    Once all the ingredients were in, he seasoned the mixture with a pinch of salt and covered the pot, stirring it occasionally to prevent the grains from sticking to the bottom.

    The following hour was nothing short of torture for the two elderly nuns. They had never learned proper cooking techniques, having prepared only hard bread and simple vegetable soup for years. They dared not experiment with new things for fear of wasting precious supplies. But now, the tantalizing aroma of Kit’s cooking filled the room, making them feel a twinge of guilt for being tempted by something so indulgent.

    The vegetable broth they had been boiling since Little Kit started cooking suddenly seemed bland and uninspired. They had thought there wouldn’t be enough coarse flour for bread today, leaving the children with little to eat. But judging by the look of things…Kit’s grain soup could stretch their meager supplies much further.

    The grain soup simmered for nearly two hours, causing the grains to swell and look fulfilling. The essential nutrients were still intact, and the consistency was just right. The amount in the small pot was enough to fill the bellies of the three people in the kitchen. Even after cooking, almost a third of the grounded grains remained in each bowl, waiting for future use.

    Little Kit carefully divided the finished dish into equal portions in wooden bowls and explained to the two nuns what he had made.

    "This is toasted grain porridge with wild garlic oil. I used the rabbit bones to add a hint of meat flavor," he said, holding a small spoon. He scooped up a bit of the white garlic oil that had begun to solidify due to the cold. As the oil mixed into the warm, light-orange porridge, it melted and released another burst of delicious fragrance. Without waiting for their approval, he began eating eagerly.

    The two nuns mimicked his actions, spooning the melted fat and wild vegetables into their steaming bowls of thick porridge. The golden-white oil spread beautifully across the surface, filling the room with an irresistible aroma. Unable to resist, they swallowed hard and took their first bites. They instantly felt pleasure. The warmth spread through their bodies, a comforting heat in the midst of the cold morning air.

    The porridge was not only hearty but also surprisingly rich in flavor, enhanced by the wild garlic and toasted fat. The roasted bones gave it a depth that made it feel like they were eating real meat—a luxury they hadn’t experienced in a long time.

    It was a poor man’s meal, transformed by its aroma into something luxurious.

    "This is... amazing!" Sister Anne exclaimed sincerely before eagerly spooning more into her mouth without pause.

    "It’s even tastier than the food from Russel’s church. You… How did you manage this?" Sister Lisa couldn’t stop smiling, though she still tried to maintain her dignified demeanor.

    "Hehe, I just picked up bits and pieces from here and there." The little boy scratched his head shyly. Then, he fetched some clean water and drank it before returning to serve his two VIP guests with utmost care while waiting nervously for their verdict.

    His little heart pounded hard—his chance to eat good food regularly depended entirely on the nuns’ decision this time…

    "I can’t deny your incredible talent," Sister Anne said with a warm smile.

    "I agree. Your skills should be something everyone here experiences... You’re now our special chef. You can start tomorrow."

    "Yay! Thank you so much!"

    Overjoyed, little Kit leapt into the arms of the two nuns, who felt just like mothers to him.

    Their warm embrace enveloped him, and they hugged him back just as tightly.