YM778.TV Chapter 50: Meeting Father?
On the very first day, Logan had set about preparing the rice. Yes, rice. While corn and potato or even barley were traditionally the preferred for alcohal-making, those were nowhere to be found in Canyon City. Perhaps they didn\'t even exist in this world. Canyon City boasted a plethora of grains, some Logan had never laid eyes on before.
But with only rice and wheat familiar to him, he opted for the former.
Rice, after all, was an interesting choice. Canyon City offered nearly ten varieties of wheat and several types of rice, but Logan chose rice for a reason. "Rice has a high starch content but low in proteins and fats, ideal for slow fermentation at low temperatures. This way, the wine turns out quite pure," he explained as they inspected the barrel.
Indeed, each grain had its unique strengths in winemaking. Logan shared his knowledge with Tyton and Cardia, who listened intently. "Grapes gives the wine its aroma, corn lends sweetness, rice ensures purity, glutinous rice brings softness, and wheat, strength."
In addition to preparing the rice on the first day, Logan had also been tirelessly crafting the equipment needed for distilling liquor. The task transformed him into a makeshift carpenter, relying on his memory and some rudimentary blueprints he\'d seen once in the system mall to piece together the required apparatus.
The days weren\'t just filled with manual labor; there was an air of mystery too. Every time Tyton or Cardia attempted to pry into the finer details of the process, Logan would simply chuckle and say, "You will know in a few days."
Finally, standing before the one-meter-high barrel, Logan beamed, inhaling the aromatic scent of the freshly fermented rice wine. "Not bad, not bad at all! The fermentation is complete!" His face lit up with a smile of satisfaction, signaling the birth of their first batch of homemade wine.
Tyton and Cadia peered curiously into the barrel, their noses wrinkling at the unfamiliar scent wafting up.
"That smells... different," Cadia remarked, puzzled.
Tyton nodded in agreement. "Yes, definitely not what I expected."
The previous day, Logan had mixed sprouted wheat, rice, and sweet potatoes in the barrel, creating an unusual concoction that left both Cadia and Tyton skeptical. They had even lightly teased Logan about his choice of ingredients. "Seems like a lavish use of good rice and sweet potatoes, doesn\'t it?" Tyton had joked, half-serious about the waste.
Logan, however, was undeterred and flashed a knowing smile as he inspected another barrel, his face lighting up with satisfaction. "Ah, but you see, this isn\'t meant to be wine," he clarified with a twinkle in his eye.
"This here is for making maltose," he continued, fondly recalling his childhood in where where maltose was a cherished treat. He then explained his exploration of sweeteners in Canyon City. Unlike the familiar white and brown sugars, the city offered only fructose, which was more akin to preserved fruit, and costly jams, both a luxury due to their difficult preservation and transportation issues.
"Considering the high costs of fructose and jam here, our own maltose could become quite the popular commodity," Logan mused aloud, clearly envisioning the potential success of their venture.
Then, with a sense of urgency, he began directing the next steps. "Gava, start lighting the fire!" he called out to the burly wild boar man, who promptly sat before the earthen stove, stacking wood to ignite.
"Cadia, fetch the linen you purchased!" Logan added.
"Yes!" Cadia responded, dashing off and quickly returning with a large piece of linen cloth, which they would use to filter the fermented mixture.
The process intrigued everyone involved. Logan expertly tied the linen over a large iron pot, creating a makeshift sieve. "This will help us filter out the solids and keep only the pure maltose syrup," he explained as he prepared the setup.
Soon, the filtration began. They painstakingly processed the two barrels of wort, weighing about one hundred kilograms. After nearly two hours of continuous work, they had successfully filtered the mixture, a step closer to producing their coveted maltose.
The large iron pot, crafted specifically for Logan by the city\'s blacksmith, boasted a capacity not just for the 100 kilograms of juice they had now, but it could handle up to 200 kilograms.
After a strenuous couple of hours spent filtering, Logan rubbed his sore arms. "I\'m exhausted. Can someone take over stirring for a bit?" he called out, weary but attentive to the task at hand. The maiwa juice, though filtered of residue, remained thick and required constant stirring to prevent it from scorching at the bottom, especially since the pot heated unevenly due to its size.
Tyton and Cardia, who had assisted with the filtering, were visibly fatigued as well. Upon hearing Logan, the quilboar, Gava, took the wooden stirrer and began the laborious task of stirring the heavy juice.
The fire under the large pot was robust, and it wasn\'t long before the contents began to boil. Logan, understanding the critical nature of this phase, promptly took back the stirrer from Gava. "Boiling is crucial. We must be careful not to let the bottom burn. While it won\'t ruin the batch, it will certainly diminish the quality of the maltose," he instructed.
"Cadia, let\'s slow down on the firewood now!" Logan directed, keeping a close eye on the pot\'s contents.
"Yes!" came the prompt response.
Tyton and Gava watched in fascination as the juice slowly transformed from a soup like consistency to a dark red hue. They were still trying to comprehend the transformation when a soft, charming voice interrupted their thoughts.
"Hey, what are you cooking up this time? Boiling sweet potatoes again?" It was Jean, approaching with her usual playful demeanor.
In the kitchen, aside from Logan who was focused on the task, Tyton, Gava, and Cardia quickly acknowledged her arrival with a cheerful, "Miss Jean your here!"
Given that Jean was likely to be their chief\'s wife, they treated her with great respect. Plus, Jean had been bringing them food and drinks daily, which only endeared her more to them.
Jean, with a sweet smile, teased Logan, "No warm welcome for me?"
Logan, without missing a beat and continuing his stirring, replied with a light-hearted tone, "Do you still need a formal welcome? You\'re here so often, it might as well be your second home."
Jean\'s daily visits had become a norm for Logan, and though he initially harbored some reservations, he had grown to appreciate her presence. She embodied the qualities he admired, boldness, knowledge, intelligence, and agility. These were the traits Logan sought in a partner, and Jean fit this ideal perfectly.
Despite his natural reticence in matters of the heart, preferring actions over words, Logan found Jean\'s straightforward nature refreshing.
"Haha... I\'d blush if anyone else said that!" Jean giggled, covering her mouth as she teased him.
Curious, she peered into the bubbling pot Logan was diligently stirring. "By the way, what are you up to here?" she inquired, a hint of confusion in her tone.
"Sugarmaking," Logan replied succinctly.
Jean, unlike the others who were new to such delicacies, had a background that likely included experiences with refined sweets like sugar, fructose, and jam. Logan hadn\'t bothered explaining much to Cadia and the rest, assuming they wouldn\'t understand or appreciate the complexities of sugarmaking.
"Sugar?" Jean\'s eyebrows rose in surprise. "This looks more like jam!" she remarked, observing the thickening mixture.
"You\'ll see soon enough," Logan said, not delving into further details just yet, as he focused on preventing the mixture from scorching.
The concoction in the pot was quickly approaching the right consistency, promising that their efforts would soon bear fruit, or rather, sugar, within the hour.
Changing the subject, Jean\'s tone shifted to something more serious. "By the way, Logan, my father has returned and he wishes to meet you," she announced, her expression somber.
At the mention of her father, Logan\'s hands faltered briefly on the wooden stirrer, the surprise causing a momentary lapse in his concentration. Recovering quickly, he knew this was a crucial moment for the sugarmaking process, and any distraction could spoil it.
"Your father?" Logan echoed, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Why does he want to see me?" he asked, while internally he couldn\'t help but think, somewhat irritably, *This woman really doesn\'t waste any time.*