Apprentice Shrine Maiden Volume 2 (Premium)

by Miya Kazuki

  “Given that you intend to open the restaurant in the spring,” began Rosina, “perhaps you would be better off focusing on the carpet rather than tapestries? Noble rooms will always have carpet, so as to stifle the sounds of footsteps and serving carts.”

  “It will be difficult to find thick carpet suitable for pushing serving carts over, but it will be well worth the price.”

  They provided advice not only from the perspective of nobles, but from the perspectives of those serving the nobles. Benno and I both wrote down their thoughts in our diptychs. The conversation advanced smoothly, with the number of tables, number of chairs, leftover space to be kept in reserve, and so on all getting discussed.

  “Regarding the tables,” said Fran, “I believe that removing the tablecloths and using napkins instead is an important step towards feeling more like somewhere a noble might eat. Napkins are like tablecloths cut into small squares so that diners can wipe their hands individually, and as of late the nobility use them almost exclusively.”

  Fran’s words made my face light up. Tablecloths here weren’t used for decoration like they were back on Earth. They were used to rub food off your hands, to wipe your face, and even to blow your nose. A new tablecloth might look nice, but after repeated usage the filth became too baked in to remove. It was so unhygienic that it was actually causing dysentery and other diseases to spread.

  “Fran, that is a spectacular idea,” I said. “Filthy tablecloths will only ruin the high-class atmosphere. With napkins sized for individual use, it will be trivial to replace dirty ones once they become impossible to clean. A restaurant must prioritize cleanliness above all else. Some diners will clean themselves on the tablecloths if given the opportunity, so our best option is to remove the tablecloths entirely and prepare napkins in their place.”

  Benno nodded and stroked his chin in thought. Meanwhile, Rosina tapped my shoulder and signaled for me to stop talking. Did I get too excited? Sorry, but I just hate the dirty tablecloths here. So, so much.

  Once we finished discussing the dining hall, we moved to the kitchen. It was largely identical to the one in my chambers, but larger. I looked around and saw Mark and Hugo talking. I had Fran ask how their discussions on the cooking tools, ingredients, and firewood had concluded.

  “We have decided to order the same tools I have grown used to using in Sister Myne’s kitchen,” answered Hugo. I heard him loud and clear, but Fran repeated it to me before asking my thoughts.

  “It’s good to prepare tools you’re used to using. But think carefully about how many of them to buy. For some tools, it’s better to buy many extras for when you’re too busy to clean them.” I whispered my thoughts Fran’s ears, and after he repeated them Hugo’s eyes shot open wide in shock, as if he had never considered that option. Mark was taking notes in his own diptych, which they had apparently made at some point.

  “It would be wise to secure three separate avenues from which to buy fresh, good-tasting ingredients. You will also need a lot of wood to run the ovens, correct? Start securing a stockpile of it as soon as possible, without forgetting the possibility of ordering it from other cities.”

  After finishing our discussion in the kitchen, we all got into the carriage—except for Mark and Hugo—and headed for the Gilberta Company. There we could discuss matters without reservation.

  As soon as I entered the store, I tossed off my noble girl facade. Rosina winced, but if I had a business discussion with Benno like a noble, I would have no idea if he was understanding me or not. I raised a hand, my diptych open and ready.

  “Okay, Benno. I’m going to ask about some things. You implied the wainscot was late, but when is it actually going to be finished? Isn’t it essential for the restaurant’s decoration? I don’t think you’ll be able to put up the art or display shelves without it.”

  “The workshop’s hurrying, but it’s definitely not gonna be finished before winter. Can’t say I’m surprised, they’ve gotta do the doors and window panes too.”

  Something about Benno’s elaboration seemed odd to me. I furrowed my brow in thought. “Ummm, wait, are you saying you ordered everything from the same workshop?”

  “Naturally. You gotta stick with your partner workshop.” So he said, but it seemed to me that asking one workshop to make doors, window panes, wainscots, and so on—each with ornately carved reliefs—was just going to end up with them being overworked.

  “Why not just split the orders between different carpentry workshops? It’ll take way too long if you ask one workshop to do everything. You would save a lot of time if you asked one workshop to do the wainscot, one to decorate the door, one to decorate the window panes, and another to make the display shelves.”

  Apparently, it was normal to do what Benno did and form a partnership with a workshop that would do everything, no matter how long it took. I saved a lot of time setting up my workshop since I just bought materials that had already been made, which gave me a biased perception.

  “I’ll trust that you know what you’re talking about, Benno. But most craftsmen will be able to do this kind of thing if you give them detailed instructions, so I think you’d be better off forming connections with multiple workshops.”

  “...I’ll think about it.” Benno started writing something on a wooden board and I used the opportunity to check what was next on my list.

  “What about tableware? Nobles don’t use wooden tableware much at all.”

  “I’ve ordered some pewter plates, but they’re gonna be a while too. Takes a lot of time to make that many of the same thing. No helping this either, nobles don’t share.” In cheap restaurants it was normal to eat with your hands instead of utensils, and plates were made of hard bread. People even shared their utensils and plates when they had them, though less in recent times than before.

  But nobles? Nobles were different. To match the style of nobles you needed tableware for each individual customer, which meant you had to make a bunch from scratch. Which was exactly why he should have split the orders between workshops to speed the process up.

  “What if you used a different workshop for each table’s worth of tableware, maybe changing what kind you use depending on the price of the food...?”

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself.” It seemed that ordering from multiple workshops at once really was frowned upon. With Benno glowering in front of me, I changed my suggestion.

  “In that case, why not order silver and porcelain tableware as well, so it’s not all from the same kind of workshop?”

  “That would be too expensive,” Benno said with a grimace.

  “You can use them exclusively for higher class customers, to make them feel special. The plates and such can be put on display for decoration when not in use.”

  “...That’s a good point. What do you two think?” Benno looked at Fran and Rosina. Fran spoke first.

  “I believe that Sister Myne’s suggestion would be fairly effective. Even nobles use different plates when serving guests of honor. However...”

  According to Fran and Rosina, nobles brought their own utensils and cups with them when dining with others. They would brag about their quality, and some of them were family heirlooms passed down for generations. Tableware was a reflection of one’s fortune. And apparently, most importantly of all, it was commonplace for nobles to bring even their own plates to lower the risk of being poisoned.

  “Commoners definitely don’t do anything like that,” observed Benno.

  “That’s fine, we can be trend setters here and spread noble customs to everyone,” I said. “The restaurant will have its own tableware just in case, but what if in your invitation you told the first people eating here to bring their own utensils and cups? If they’re rich I’m sure they have tableware they’re proud of, and some people might buy new ones just so they can brag. Do you have any tableware you could show off, Benno?”

  Benno groaned a little. “...I do. I get the feeling that if I kick off a battle of people showing off
their prized tableware it’ll never end, but I do have some tableware I would want to bring if someone told me to bring my own.”

  “Okay. The restaurant won’t need many utensils if you have people bring their own. And you won’t have to worry about expensive tableware being stolen by customers.” Benno had said that his greatest concern about decorating the restaurant like a noble’s mansion was customers stealing or destroying things. I personally couldn’t imagine stealing something from a restaurant, but apparently it wasn’t uncommon.

  “Oh yeah, speaking of which. You said you knew a way to cut down on theft and people leaving without paying their checks, yeah? What is it?”

  I puffed out my chest with confidence and answered.

  “Simple. Introductions only.”

  How to Run a Restaurant

  When I explained the idea behind an “introductions-only” system, Benno shrugged his shoulders, unimpressed. Apparently it was more than commonplace to deny people entry into stores and restaurants without an introduction, or based on their clothes.

  “Customers paying and acting well are too different things. Just ’cause a customer pays well doesn’t mean they’re gonna be a good customer. In fact, a lot of them get smug and arrogant since they know they’re paying well. You think I want that?” Benno sighed and scratched his head, probably imagining a ton of annoying customers he’d had like that. I went ahead and explained the difference between my idea and the introductions generally given in this city.

  “An introductions-only system doesn’t stop at the introduction. If a customer introduces someone who steals, doesn’t pay, or causes any other problems, then said customer will be responsible for paying and cleaning up the mess.”

  “You want the customer to be responsible?!” Benno slammed a fist on the table and shot up, his eyes wide as he looked down at me in shock. He must not have expected my explanation at all.

  “Yes. Customers will be much less likely to cause problems, since they’ll be involving those who introduced them in the mess. Those introducing others will be very careful about who they choose. Naturally, since problems resulting from their introduction will come back to them. They’ll only introduce people that can be trusted.”

  “...But won’t that be expecting too much from customers?” Benno sat back down and rubbed his temples. My suggestion had been much more of a shock for him than I had anticipated. It was normal to require introductions, but clearly those who gave introductions were never held responsible for anything.

  “Ultimately you’re prioritizing the atmosphere of the store and preventing problems, so the end result will be your regulars feeling like they matter while they enjoy pleasant, uninterrupted meals. But well, I’ll leave this decision up to you, Benno.”

  My job was to give advice, Benno’s job was to make decisions based on that advice. He asked me a question about a problem and I gave him a potential solution. Nothing more, nothing less. My life as a merchant ended before I even became an apprentice. I had no idea if my ideas would hold water in this city.

  “I will say, though, that I don’t think you’ll have any problems with implementing new systems as long as you’re consistent with them from the start. This is a restaurant where commoners will be able to eat food fit for nobles. It’s trailblazing, and everyone will know it. You’ll have problems if you try introducing something new after the restaurant’s already opened, though.”

  Benno furrowed his eyebrows harder and glared at empty space. “I’m gonna need to iron out a lot of details if I do that.”

  “Mmm... Can’t you just lay out a few rules that definitely should never be broken, then make tiny changes depending on how things play out? This is going to be a totally new system, so being loose and flexible should be more effective than trying to get it perfect right from the start. Probably.”

  “Hmmm...” Benno fell into thought, so I looked back down at my diptych.

  “Okay, that’s enough about the introductions-only system. Let’s think about what we need to get ready before the restaurant opens.”

  “What’re you talking about? We just finished talking about that.” Benno gave me a puzzled look. I double checked my list of things I wasn’t sure about, then glared at Benno while pouting.

  “What are you talking about? The only thing we finished talking about was the interior decoration. You’ll need menus and bells for each table, won’t you? Both need to be very high quality to match the restaurant’s atmosphere.”

  “Menus? What for? The servers can tell them what we have.”

  Restaurants in this world had the servers inform customers of the menu. That was fine for commoner eateries where the most complex thing to ask was whether you wanted your sausage cooked or boiled, and for noble homes since servers needed merely state what the chefs had already made. But in a restaurant like ours where different people would be picking different food from a long list of things they hadn’t heard of before, menus were necessary to keep everything in order. The server wouldn’t last without them.

  “If you write all the food and spirits available in a restaurant on menus and put them at each table, customers will be able to know what you’re serving without asking the waiter about every little thing. They’ll be able to pick what they want at their own pace, too. I don’t know how many servers you intend to hire, but the less time they have to spend at each table the better.”

  “What about people who don’t know how to read?” Benno’s grimace reminded me just how low the literacy rate was here, but it wouldn’t be a problem here.

  “The restaurant’s first customers will be the owners of large stores, right? Lutz had to learn to read just to become an apprentice merchant, so I can’t imagine that large store owners will be illiterate.”

  Not to mention that said large store owners would be discussing business while eating, which meant they would have servants with pens and boards standing by. It should be safe to assume that someone involved in this equation would know how to read. They wouldn’t be able to do their job if they couldn’t read or write contracts.

  “Oh, and about the menus. Do you want me to make somewhat thicker paper and put plants inside like I did before? I could make paper menus for the regular dishes and for the seasonal dishes. I think that would make good advertising for our plant paper.” I’d like for the menus to be pretty fashionable. Not cute, but pretty and fitting for a noble environment. I wonder what plant would be good for this season? Maybe I should go all the way and try making colored paper.

  “Paper, really? You think menus are that important?”

  “Menus are essential for restaurants! Oh, should I go inform the Myne Workshop? My attendant has such lovely handwriting it’s like art unto itself. Impressive, don’t you think? Eheheh.”

  “...I don’t get what you’re talking about or why it’s so important, but alright. I’ll leave it to you.” Benno cradled his head in exhaustion. With a new job secured, I grinned and began thinking of menu designs in my head.

  “You can count on me! By the way, what are you going to do about waiters? Commoners you find on the street won’t have the elegance that nobles demand from their servers.”

  There was a big difference between the waiters at commoner eateries and servers at noble mansions. I knew that especially well thanks to Fran and my other attendants serving me food. I wouldn’t want Benno thinking Fran was on the same level as some lower city rando that didn’t even care about spilling drinks or dropping a little food. And it seemed he did not, given that he looked at me with a somewhat pitiful expression.

  “...Can’t you handle that somehow?”

  “You want me to train waiters in my chambers too? Mmm... The chefs are one thing, but I don’t think I’ll get permission to bring waiters into my room.”

  “What about letting priests work outside the temple?”

  “I have lunch with the High Priest tomorrow, so I’ll ask him then. Don’t get your hopes up, though.”

  The High Priest
had previously said that only those who had nobody to look after them or introduce them to work became priests and shrine maidens. At the time I interpreted that as “They can go outside if someone starts looking after them,” but now that I knew more about the dark underside of the temple and the orphanage, I couldn’t take his words at face value. He might allow them to work outside since the temple had an overabundance of gray priests and needed money, or he might not for fear of it breaking down the temple’s internal structure. We were in some awkward middle ground.

  “By the way. I was thinking of inviting the High Priest to the first round of visitors. What do you think, Benno?”

  “Hold up. The High Priest? You think a real noble would bother to come?” It seemed that a noble visiting a commoner’s store was beyond ridiculous. If they wanted to see a merchant, they generally summoned them to their home in the Noble’s Quarter. The temple was located in between the Noble’s Quarter and the commoner part of the city, and thus had gates connecting the two. But blue priests never entered the lower city unless a ceremony required it.

  “The High Priest seems to be interested in the food I’ve thought up. It depends on how I approach it, but I don’t think he’ll refuse if I ask,” I said, while the fascinated Benno stroked his chin and fell into thought. “Which is why I think you should invite only people you can really trust to the first round of visitors. Don’t you think they’ll feel super special for getting to eat with a noble?”

  “...They sure will.”

  “The Italian restaurant will develop an amazing reputation right off the bat if an actual noble has eaten there.” My words made Benno’s dark red eyes flash with the carnivorous light of a merchant who had found profit. “Don’t treat it like the pound cake taste-testing event where we invited a bunch of people. Invite a small group of people, those you can trust. With the number of chefs we have now, you won’t be able to make all that much food. The food is expensive enough that the potential customer base for it isn’t too large. Why not make it an exclusive, high-class restaurant where only the chosen can enter? The chosen few with lots of cash to dump right into our hands?”