The Reincarnated Lizardman Wants a Hamburger

Mari and the other companions hadn’t done anything particularly special.

From the start, even if they wanted to do something for the demon girl, how could they have done anything for a girl they met during their journey without any preparation?

So, all they could do was talk with the demon girl.

But even that must have been like a dream for the girl who had been trapped alone in the ruins for countless years.

The demon girl seemed happier than ever just from that.

In fact, seeing her find joy in such small, simple things made Mari and the group’s eyes well up.

And so, though they didn’t say it out loud, they all came to the same thought.

Even if there was nothing they could do for this demon girl, it wasn’t true that they couldn’t do anything at all.

Yes.

The only way they could help the girl.

That was.

“Please, Kurt!”

They prayed that Kurt would complete a delicious meal.

Clatter.

And finally, Kurt arrived with the completed dish.

“Oh, ooooh…!”

The overwhelming presence of jambalaya.

At the sight, the demon girl’s eyes sparkled as if she had discovered a treasure mountain.

What Kurt brought was a massive pot of jambalaya, not divided into individual portions.

The appearance of the jambalaya, not portioned into plates, seemed rough at first glance but carried a pressure that could be felt precisely because of its roughness.

The jambalaya, still steaming hot despite being finished cooking.

And in that steam was not just warmth but also the stimulating aroma of the numerous spices in the jambalaya.

The overwhelming appearance and aroma of the jambalaya were enough to steal the demon girl’s heart before Kurt even set the pot down.

“Th-this is…! This is…! This…!”

The demon girl, struck by such a massive shock, seemed to have forgotten how to speak.

She alternated between looking at Kurt and the jambalaya, stammering.

Seeing her like that, Kurt silently scooped a generous portion of jambalaya onto a plate and handed it to the girl.

“This is… so…”

“Eat as much as you want. Tell me if it’s not enough.”

“…!!”

Though just a single sentence, it was exactly what the girl needed.

As soon as Kurt finished speaking, the girl clumsily grabbed a spoon and immediately started devouring the jambalaya.

Generally, in East Asia, well-made fried rice is praised for its fluffy texture, while sticky rice is considered a sign of a poor chef.

However, jambalaya, due to its cooking method of steaming rice with seasoning, has a texture far from fluffy.

If anything, it’s closer to risotto than East Asian fluffy fried rice.

But it’s also different from oily, sticky fried rice.

This is because jambalaya uses long-grain rice with less stickiness.

Thus, jambalaya, while coated in seasoning and resembling risotto, has a texture where each grain of rice is distinct.

“Heee…”

Of course, the demon girl, who had never even eaten East Asian-style fried rice, let alone jambalaya, wouldn’t know the difference.

So, the demon girl, spilling half the jambalaya back onto the plate, struggled to scoop a spoonful and, with a mix of tension, excitement, and anticipation, put the spoon in her mouth.

Hahp.

“…!!”

And then.

The taste of jambalaya, which she was tasting for the first time since her rebirth.

No, the taste of that dish, which she was tasting for the first time in both her past and present life.

Poof!!

Puff puff!!

It delivered a thrilling shock to her brain, like a grand magic explosion.

Was this the shock Siddhartha felt when he first tasted milk porridge after six years of asceticism?

No, it must have been even more shocking.

At least the milk porridge Siddhartha ate didn’t have sausage, bacon, and Cajun seasoning!

Zzzt zzzt.

The demon girl’s brain buzzed from the overwhelming stimulation.

It was so intense, like eating too much ice cream at once, that her head hurt.

The girl, who had spent her entire life trapped in ancient ruins, eating weeds and small animals, had never tasted proper food or cooking.

The flavors of chicken stock, Cajun seasoning, and the oil extracted from frying sausage and bacon hit her taste buds, which had dried up over the years.

The combined taste of the jambalaya was a shock that made her spine tingle from head to toe.

The thrill made the demon girl almost drop her spoon, but she held on, remembering that dropping it would spill the remaining rice.

“Hoo, hooaaa…”

But the strength was only in her delicate fingers.

Her face was completely relaxed, like someone who had endured the sauna to the limit and then stepped out to cool air and drank fruit milk.

The stimulating aroma, which seemed to embody the saltiness and spiciness before even tasting, exploded with a wild flavor in her mouth.

The salty taste clung to every cell on her tongue.

Then, the spiciness of the Cajun sauce burst out with a time delay!

But that spiciness didn’t linger long.

Rather, it disappeared cleanly in an instant, adding variation to the salty taste that could easily become tiresome.

This made the rich flavor of jambalaya not easily tiresome but highly addictive, tricking the brain.

This is the essence of American cuisine.

While other cuisines evolved to restrain flavors to avoid overwhelming the palate, American cuisine, like a macho, laughs at such restraint.

If the flavor is too strong, people might call it overkill, but once it crosses a certain threshold, that strong flavor becomes a striking characteristic.

Too much is not enough.

Too sweet, salty, or oily is worse than less?

If someone says that, just drop an even stronger flavor on them to shut them up!

Not enough with Cajun seasoning?

Then add the sticky umami of chicken stock!

Umami deepens all flavors and makes the dish’s taste more three-dimensional!

At that moment, the demon girl’s mouth was filled with the aroma of jambalaya, crushed rice grains soaked in chicken stock.

It’s not over!

Still not enough with Cajun seasoning and chicken stock?

Not enough? Didn’t ask!

Jambalaya, filled with the machismo of the American South, is never satisfied!

What soaked into the rice wasn’t just Cajun seasoning and chicken stock fat.

Oil!

It was the oil that seeped out while frying sausage and bacon.

Oil rich with meaty aroma, impossible to replicate with vegetable oil!

No vegetable oil here!

America!

And it’s not just simple meat oil.

Sausage and bacon are preserved foods.

To preserve them long-term, salt and spices are generously used.

Yes, spices!

The spices used in making or smoking sausage and bacon coated the rice grains during frying.

And then, harmoniously wrapping everything in the center, the tangy umami of tomatoes.

It’s a dish that doesn’t care about the eater’s health, like having four or five health insurances.

It’s a devilish flavor that any adult, regardless of race or culture, can’t help but love.

What more for a child with less self-control, let alone a demon girl who had never tasted proper food in her life?

“Hahp…! Munch…! Munch…! Hahp…! Gobble gobble!”

The demon girl kept requesting “one more bowl!” from Kurt, eating until her belly was as round as a frog’s.

It was truly a devilish dish that could corrupt even a demon.

But the girl still didn’t know.

That after the main dish, there’s dessert to eat.

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