Clawdia's description certainly couldn't be called detailed, things like "just put the Basarios Tail on the fire with that layer of rock carapace and burn it for a bit, meow."
As for how long to burn it or to what degree, she couldn't say for sure.
Under Altaïr's repeated questioning, she only managed to piece together a vague recipe. As for how something made according to these instructions would turn out, he couldn't say.
The only saving grace was that while Basarios Tail was rare, it wasn't some bizarre ingredient. If it turned out poorly, it would likely just be a matter of the meat not being tender enough or the sauce not penetrating properly.
It wouldn't be like the Congalala large intestine Serl had mentioned before; if handled incorrectly, it wasn't just a matter of being inedible, you'd have to throw the cookware away with it.
Facing Isis's expectant gaze, Altaïr eventually nodded and agreed to the task.
He would try to make it in a bit. In any case, this girl's minimum standard for food was as low as a trash can's; even if he just boiled the Basarios Tail in water and dipped it in salt, she would eat it happily.
As for Altaïr's culinary skills, Isis had a mysterious confidence in them. Seeing him agree, her worries vanished instantly, and her mood improved along with her appetite.
She polished off more than half of the food and drink on the table by herself, leaving Serl staring in a daze.
Once they had finished eating, Serl excused himself, claiming he needed to process the monster materials from their last hunt.
He didn't have loftier pursuits when it came to food. Although he was free at the moment and didn't mind hanging out with his juniors and grabbing a few bites of good food, he had noticed something.
These two juniors, a man and a woman, might not have been acting overly intimate, but they were certainly close. What was he doing sticking around? He might as well go do something else.
The two of them didn't think much of it, their eyes fixed solely on the hundred-plus centimeter long dragon tail resting on the cleared long table.
The only difference was that Altaïr was fretting, while Isis was drooling.
Looking at the first step of the "Basarios Tail Recipe" in his notes, "Cut into the joints of the rock carapace and slice the entire tail into segments."
This step was somewhat redundant; after all, a dragon tail nearly as long as Francesca herself wouldn't fit into a pot whole, would it?
"So, let's start cutting." Altaïr drew his Carving Knife and hovered it over the tail, looking a bit hesitant.
Hunters dining at the neighboring tables couldn't help but shoot them strange looks.
Altaïr sheathed the knife. "Ahem, we can't exactly process a dragon tail right here. We need to find a suitable place first."
"A suitable place?" Isis blinked at him, her gaze clear and innocent.
Altaïr fell silent. Such a place seemed difficult to find. The cutting step was one thing, at most some grease and blood would leak out, which could be wiped away.
But what about the pots for roasting, searing, and boiling that came next? What about the stove?!
If he tried to process this thing using the portable cooking gear he usually used in the hunting grounds, the stove would probably collapse under the weight.
"How about borrowing the kitchen here, meow?" Sajji suggested from the side. "The lunch rush is over, so the kitchen shouldn't be too busy, meow. If we ask the Guildmarm to put in a word for us, it should be fine, meow?"
Altaïr gave an "mm-hmm" in response. To cook the Basarios Tail, they needed more than just space; they needed all sorts of kitchenware. Borrowing the kitchen was practically their only option.
"I'll go ask!"
Isis jumped up from her seat with initiative and trotted over to the Quest Counter. After a brief exchange, she came scurrying back excitedly, followed by the young receptionist, Lillian.
Altaïr smirked. He didn't even need to think to know that Miss Noya had agreed.
As long as it wasn't something illegal or deliberate vandalism, that woman would likely nod her head and agree to just about anything to get him and Isis to stay.
True to his suspicions, the young receptionist following Isis gave a spirited greeting and said lively, "Sister Noya told me to take you to the kitchen! I'll talk to the chefs for you!"
"Let's go, let's go!" Isis hoisted the Basarios Tail onto her shoulder and marched off.
Altaïr had no choice but to stand up and follow.
The kitchen of the Guild Hall tavern followed the usual style of the Metapetatto Guild, never mind whether the space was actually needed, they just built the biggest and best possible.
The kitchen was sizeable, and the facilities were quite complete.
Upon hearing that hunters wanted to borrow the kitchen, the Felyne Chef in charge of the felyne cooks seemed somewhat reluctant. However, after little Lillian emphasized that this was the wish of the Guildmarm, Miss Noya, the felyne cooks had no choice but to begrudgingly agree.
"You can borrow it, meow, but this is the canteen that feeds everyone in the tavern. There are rules that must be followed no matter what, meow!"
The Felyne Chef, sporting a handlebar mustache, brandished a large ladle with great presence. "First, go take off that armor, take a proper bath, and change into clean civilian clothes, meow.
We will provide the chef hats and aprons, meow.
No weapons allowed in the kitchen, meow, not even Carving Knives, meow! I know you hunters always want to use Carving Knives to cut ingredients, meow. It is not allowed, meow!
Who knows what your Carving Knives have cut before, meow? It will contaminate the food and the cutting boards, meow!"
Altaïr and Isis exchanged a look. Though it felt like a hassle, the kitchen was their domain after all, so they had to obey.
The two returned to their respective rooms, dropped off their gear, bathed, and changed.
Sajji took the opportunity to slip away, claiming he needed to finish modifying the Zinogre Model-2 while inspiration was still fresh. Clawdia, meanwhile, stayed by Isis's side the whole time, acting very clingy.
Returning to the kitchen dressed in light clothing, wearing a chef hat and an apron, Altaïr felt a bit strange.
He had always viewed cooking as a means to improve hunting efficiency; as for one day becoming a chef, the thought had never crossed his mind.
After checking their hygiene, the Felyne Chef finally let them into the kitchen.
With not much work to do at the moment, the Felyne Chef personally followed them to ensure they didn't cause any trouble.
Looking at the Basarios Tail in Isis's hands, the Felyne Chef nodded repeatedly. "A Basarios Tail, meow. Indeed a very famous and precious ingredient. Do you know how to prepare it, meow?"
"I suppose so. Could we borrow a kitchen knife?" Altaïr asked.
The Felyne Chef handed over a kitchen knife about two palms long, sharp, but thin.
"...Is there anything larger?" Altaïr gestured. "This won't be easy to cut with."
The Felyne Chef looked at the Basarios Tail, nodded, and ran to the knife rack to retrieve a blade over a meter long. It looked less like a kitchen knife and more like a long sword.
Altaïr took the knife and instinctively flicked his wrist, spinning it into a flashy floral guard, only to be met by the Felyne Chef's dangerous glare.
"Cough, sorry. Force of habit," Altaïr gave a dry laugh. "Isis, help me put the Basarios Tail on the prep table."
"You got it!" Isis grabbed the Basarios Tail with both hands and lifted it over her head.
"Gently! Don't smash the table!"
Isis, who had been ready to slam it down, hastily reined in her strength and lowered the tail softly onto the surface.
Altaïr picked up a clean cloth, wiped the knife, and then inserted the thin, sharp blade along the gaps in the rock carapace.
He dragged the slender knife slowly, slicing through the tough hide beneath the shell bit by bit, then cutting through layers of resilient muscle and fascia until he reached the bone.
In the process of evolution, to allow for tail movement, the gaps in a dragon's carapace generally align with the spaces between the vertebrae. Altaïr angled the blade, finally finding the gap in the tailbone.
After another round of cutting, he finally managed to sever a section from the Basarios Tail.
The Felyne Chef wiped away a cold sweat. It could tell Altaïr had no idea how to use a kitchen knife, but it was relieved that he hadn't tried to force a "miracle" through brute strength.
With one successful attempt under his belt, the rest of the butchering became much easier.
Ten minutes later, the entire Basarios Tail had finally been cut into several chunks small enough to fit into a large pot.
"What's next, meow?"
The Felyne Chef watched curiously, only to be left speechless when it saw Altaïr pull out a small notebook and start flipping through it.
He's learning as he goes, meow?! What a waste of such high-quality ingredients, meow!
Altaïr noticed the Felyne Chef's gaze, but what choice did he have?
These professional Felyne Chefs could likely do a better job than him, but they had never made this dish before. They weren't confident, and for fear of ruining it, they wouldn't take the lead. That left only an amateur like him to wing it.
"Next is... pour on strong liquor, then sear it over the grill?" Altaïr muttered. "I wonder how long it needs to burn for."
The Felyne Chef finally couldn't help but speak up. "The liquor is to remove the gaminess, meow. Searing it with the carapace on should remove the smell while making the meat shrink slightly, separating it from the shell for the next step, meow. That's how we handle Rathalos Tails, meow."
"I see, I see..." Altaïr hastily fished out a pen and noted this down. As he wrote, he asked, "So, how long is the right amount of time?"
The Felyne Chef's whiskers twitched. "Turn it on the grill, meow. Once the alcohol has finished burning, you can take it off, meow."
"Oh, okay. And then?"
"..."
The rest of the cooking time passed in a flurry of endless questions and answers.
After all, the recipe pieced together from Clawdia's memory was extremely vague.
For example, the recipe said to "sear both sides," but details like how much oil to use, how high the temperature should be, or how long to sear were all difficult problems for Altaïr.
The Felyne Chef, however, could estimate them with near-perfect accuracy based on its own vast culinary experience.
And so, Altaïr followed the steps in the recipe while using flattery to coax guidance out of the Felyne Chef, refining the recipe as he went.
After much stumbling, they finally reached the final stewing stage.
By this point, the Felyne Chef's expression had gone completely numb.
Altaïr claimed he only knew how to pan-fry and grill, not stew, so the seasoning for the broth was done entirely according to the chef's instructions, a classic Metapetatto Jungle style.
But Isis was fixated on the fact that the dish was supposed to be "Red Wine Stewed Basarios Tail." Even though red wine was never used in cooking here in Metapetatto, Altaïr went along with her wish, since she was the one who had brought the tail in the first place.
Watching Isis hoist a barrel of red wine and go "glug, glug, glug" as she poured it into the giant pot, the Felyne Chef closed its eyes in pain.
A rich, clear broth based on Jungle Giant Shrooms and various herbs, stewing a fat-rich Basarios Tail, now mixed with the fruitiness of red wine and its unique astringency... no one knew what this dish would taste like in the end.
"I'm meowing-well done with this, meow..."
(Translated by yourtl.app)