A dull-colored hunk of metal sat prominently on the dining table.
Peeking through the gaps of its rugged casing was the variable magnetic bearing motor Mina had scavenged from a junk shop back in Orbit. Mounted on top was a stout, transparent cup made of reinforced resin—a product of the Replicator’s growing library of general-purpose recipes.
At the bottom, I could see razor-sharp blades made of a titanium-ceramic composite.
"It’s finished! Mina’s Special Ultra-High Speed High-Torque Food Processor!"
With her rat ears standing straight up and her tail swaying, Mina puffed out her chest with pride.
Lucia peered into the device with a characteristically serious expression.
"Its appearance is quite destructive... but the assembly precision is perfect. There is no wobbling at all."
"Right? But this was actually surprisingly difficult to make."
Mina tapped the base of the food processor.
"Since this motor was originally for industrial use, it has way too much torque. If I’d just let it rip, the centrifugal force would’ve shattered the ceramic blades into a million pieces."
Mina stroked the side of the motor affectionately.
"However, because the structure uses magnetism to float the shaft while it rotates, the biggest selling point is that you can control the RPM very finely, from low to ultra-high speeds. I stayed up all night rewriting the program for the control board so it can switch seamlessly from a gentle low-speed mix to an ultra-high speed that can even crush bones."
I see. So that was why she’d been holed up in her workroom since last night.
"You did a great job. Thanks to you, Mina, today’s meal is going to be a lot easier."
"Ehehe, leave it to me! So, what are we crushing?"
I returned to the kitchen and took a silver tray out of the freezer. On it were the small fish I had bought in bulk at Azurite—the Azurite Shiner.
They were about fifteen centimeters long. Their slender, blue-silver shimmering bodies looked remarkably similar to Earth’s sardines.
From my initial taste tests, I knew these fish had a strong, delicious umami flavor, but they had one major drawback: they were filled with countless tiny, hard bones. To someone who disliked picking through fish, it was questionable if they would even consider the species edible.
It was certainly a troublesome ingredient. However, it was also true that the more difficult and labor-intensive an ingredient was, the more it stimulated my professional pride. I felt a drive to somehow turn it into the most delicious dish possible.
And while processing those bones would normally be a nightmare, today we had this machine.
"We’ll just take off the heads and guts, then put the rest in the food processor, bones and all."
"The whole thing!? Nice, that’s perfect for a performance test!"
Mina gleefully switched on the power.
I took about ten of the prepped Shiners, tossed them into the cup together, and secured the lid.
"Switch, on!"
Mina pressed the button on the base.
A deep, powerful roar—nothing like a typical kitchen appliance—reverberated through the room.
Along with the groan of the motor, the blades spun at a speed faster than the eye could follow. The Shiners inside the cup were reduced to a smooth paste in the blink of an eye.
"Whoa, that’s fast."
"I don't even hear the sound of the bones catching," Lucia remarked, looking impressed.
Beside her, Emma’s eyes went wide. "That’s amazing-uu!"
After letting it run for a few dozen seconds, I opened the lid to find a smooth, pale pink surimi inside. I touched it with my fingertip; there wasn't a trace of those troublesome tiny bones. They had been perfectly pulverized.
"Excellent work. Let's use this to make tsumire soup today."
I transferred the surimi to a bowl and added potato starch as a binder, along with finely chopped pseudo-onion. After seasoning it lightly with seaweed soy sauce, I kneaded it with a wooden spatula until the mixture became tacky.
I brought a pot of water to a boil and added more seaweed soy sauce and a pinch of salt to make a base. It was a simple broth, but I expected the dashi from the bones in the tsumire to enrich it.
Once the liquid reached a steady boil, I scooped out rounds of the surimi with a spoon and dropped them in one after another. The meatballs bobbed to the surface, plumping up as they cooked through. At the same time, the rich fish dashi of the Shiners dissolved into the broth, and an appetizing aroma filled the dining area.
"Now, we just combine this with the noodles I've already boiled, and it's done."
I portioned out the buckwheat flour noodles I had prepared into bowls. I poured plenty of the piping hot soup over them and topped each with several large Shiner tsumire.
"Shiner Tsumire Soba. Let's eat while it's hot."
Faced with the steaming bowls, everyone reached for their forks or chopsticks. I took my chopsticks as well and sampled a piece of tsumire.
"Mmh...!"
The texture was soft and fluffy, yet when I bit into it, the umami of the fish gushed out. There wasn't a hint of grittiness—something I never could have achieved by hand. I really had to be grateful for Mina's handiwork.
The soup, which had taken on the robust dashi characteristic of blue-skinned fish, clung perfectly to the soba.
"It’s delicious! I don’t mind the bones at all, so I feel like I could eat this forever-uu!"
"Yeah! The effort I put into adjusting the motor was totally worth it. This tsumire is the best!"
Emma and Mina smiled as they huffed and puffed over the steaming noodles.
"Master. With this processing technology, even fish scraps or hard parts can be converted into delicious dishes without waste. It is an extremely beneficial device for future food resource management."
Lucia's analysis was spot on. There were likely many ingredients out there that tasted good but were difficult to prepare. The more options we had for processing ingredients, the better.
Our quiet voyage continued. This reliable new tool promised to be a major contributor to our ship's table for the rest of the journey.