The children who helped in the bakehouse had already departed by the time Jade and Josh returned to the domus in the evening, marking the end of a grueling trek along the unpaved road connecting the city to the suburb.
Sister Miriam remained behind, guarding the final batch of biscuits. The bakehouse had already been cleaned and tidied. The biscuits baked earlier - while Jade had been selling in town - were neatly wrapped in paper. Red stamps marking the ingredients, school emblem, and best-before date were clearly visible at a glance. Beside the stack of paper-wrapped goods lay several patchwork pouches containing biscuits piped by Jade - ones that sold at a higher price purely for their decorative shapes and packaging.
“It’s a bit late today, Miss Jade,” Sister Miriam said, lifting her gaze as Jade entered the bakehouse after cleaning herself. “Where’s Josh?”
“I stopped by the butcher,” Jade replied, putting on her full set of kitchen clothes. “Josh is in the kitchen, helping with the preparations.”
“What did you buy? Offal?” Sister Miriam asked.
Jade nodded. Seeing the last grain of sand had fallen to the bottom of the hourglass, Sister Miriam rose to her feet. “I must say, Miss Jade, it isn’t easy to make pluck taste good. That’s why we usually rely on pig’s trotters and bones when we want a hint of meat flavour - provided our finances allow for it that month. It’s been a while since we had our last offal pie.”
Indeed, Jade had never seen offal used in the domus kitchen. Thanks to Mr. Rich Sponsor, the clergy could afford better cuts of meat. That portion of the donation, however, was meant for the domus itself, not the school. As a result, the students ate more modestly than the clergy - though none of them seemed to mind.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t get intestines,” Jade said. “They taste awful if you don’t clean them properly.”
She knew intestines could be used for sausages and many Chinese cuisines, but honestly, cleaning them took far too much time in a world without modern technology. Even the cheapest thorough method required salt and flour to scrub out everything inside - salt and flour, used and thrown away! She could use those for far better things. “I got hearts and livers instead. And some suet.” As she spoke, she began kneading dough. “I’m planning to render the suet tonight.”
“Tonight?” Sister Miriam frowned slightly. “It’s not good to work for long hours in poor lighting.”
“Oh, about that.” Jade puffed out her chest. “Remember the broken mirror pieces I bought from the broker’s street? I made a light reflector out of them. The lighting should be much better. I finished it this morning, so tonight will be the first real test.”
“That’s remarkable, Miss Jade!” Sister Miriam exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted a light reflector myself, but a proper one costs far too much. Brother James would never approve - he’s far too particular about expenses.”
Brother James was the monk in charge of the domus’s finance, alongside Father Rochester. They usually discussed expenditures together, and a light reflector would certainly not have been listed among their necessities.
Sister Miriam packed the final batch of biscuits for the day, arranging them neatly in the luggage basket Jade would carry to the stall the next morning. Meanwhile, Jade tucked the bowl of freshly kneaded dough into the now cooling oven; she hoped the residual heat would finally help the starter rise - an experiment that had failed her more times than she cared to count. She was attempting to develop a bread-making method better suited to her current schedule. Everything worked differently here, and she had to develop recipes that fit the domus’s conditions.
Once they had confirmed that everything was in order, the two of them left the bakehouse. Sister Miriam departed for her prayers, while Jade headed into the kitchen, changing into another set of kitchen clothes stored by the entrance - garments reserved specifically for the cook and kitchen hands.
Sister Geenia, the cook, and her main assistant, Sister Lucy, were busy preparing supper. At one corner of the table stood Josh, her pupil, who beamed the moment he saw Jade arrive.
“Sensei, do we really need this much water?” Josh asked, clearly confused as he received Jade’s order to bring over two full buckets.
“Yes,” Jade said with a nod. “You need a lot of water just to clean the offal properly if you wanna get rid of that funky taste.” Once again, she was very glad she had suggested renovating the kitchen.
It hadn’t been a large renovation, but it was an important one. Thanks to the newly added drain connected to a basin, they could now pour dirty washwater directly away instead of hauling heavy buckets out of the kitchen to a distant drain.
What happened to that washwater afterward, however, was beyond Jade’s reach. She has no idea how wastewater was handled in this era - or if it was handled at all. In her previous life, she knew that the water was supposed to undergo some kind of treatment before being released back into the environment; the bi-annual wastewater bills she’d paid were a constant reminder of that invisible service.
She recalled the day she had mentioned to Father Rochester about the labour of hauling heavy washwater from the kitchen to a distant drain. When she suggested a plumbing renovation to simplify the task, she was genuinely appalled to discover that people here simply dumped everything - scraps, suds, and unwanted refuse - straight into the waterways.
“That’s sooo disgusting!” Jade’s exclamation had echoed through Father Rochester’s study. Mr. Rich Sponsor happened to be present at the time, and both men - along with Mr. Trent who had practically blended into the background - stared at her, utterly dumbfounded by her outrage.
“But, Miss Jade, that is how everybody does it,” Father Rochester had replied calmly. “I don’t see any problem with it.”
“Seriously?!” Jade had stopped herself just in time from launching into a lecture about pathogens and waterborne diseases - things no one here would understand. Instead, she had shifted tactics, her tone turning sharp. “Listen. We eat fish and other animals from the river, right? And if we dump all our garbage into the river, the fish eat it. Then we eat the fish–”
She hadn’t even needed to finish. Their expressions had changed immediately.
Mr. Rich Sponsor’s face had gone pale, though he still pressed on. “In that case, Miss Jade, what would you suggest to prevent the… garbage from being carried away by the river?”
“How would I know? That’s a scientist’s job,” Jade had snapped, rolling her eyes. “Probably some kind of filtration. At least strain most of the dirty stuff out before dumping the water into the river, I guess.”
And so, another cheque had been written to fund further kitchen renovation… though Jade noticed that fish had suspiciously vanished from the dining table ever since.
She could only assume their generous Mr. Rich Sponsor had instructed the builders to handle the washwater somehow. Whatever solution they had implemented was beyond her expertise. Her focus now returned to the offal.
Thanks to the new kitchen drain, Jade could stay indoors while teaching Josh how to clean the offal properly.
“Cut the liver into thin slices, against the grain,” she instructed, guiding his grip on the knife while watching him work slowly. “That helps draw the blood out. And don’t stretch your fingers - use your knuckles to guide the blade and keep everything steady.”
While Josh focused on the liver, Jade quartered the pig’s heart and washed it thoroughly in a basin, pulling away clotted blood, veins, and any discoloured bits that didn’t belong. The heart was easier to manage than the liver, but it still needed several rinses before she soaked it in water with a pinch of salt.
Later, Josh stared in amazement as more blood continued to seep from the liver slices even after several changes of salted water. “That’s a lot!”
“That’s exactly why it tastes awful,” Jade replied, tipping another basin of murky water into the drain. “The blood gets trapped in all those tiny pores, You can’t just rinse the surface like you would with other cuts of meat. It requires attention to detail to draw out the funky tastes. No shortcuts.”
She glanced back at the counter. “After that, we’ll marinate the slices with crushed spring onions, leeks, and vinegar. Then, we cook them with plenty of onions.”
Josh followed her instructions, dicing an onion beside her. After a moment, he asked, “But I’ve eaten black pudding before. The blood in that didn’t taste as bad as this.”
“I don’t know. Maybe because black pudding is made with fresh, flowing blood, whereas the blood in the liver isn’t?” Jade said. “After all, it’s been sitting inside for a long time.”
To be honest, this was the first time she had ever handled raw offal - not that she had much experience with the processed kind, either. She simply didn’t have the habit of eating organ meat. Everything she knew came from cooking videos she had watched on YouTube. Thanks to the internet and the vast amount of unnecessary information she had absorbed throughout her previous life, she now had just enough practical knowledge - and passable cooking skills - to get through a situation like this.
“That must be it,” Sister Geenia interrupted, her voice firm with certainty. She had been eavesdropping on the lecture and could no longer remain silent.“Blood pudding and other blood dishes must be used as fresh as possible, straight from the pig’s throat into the kitchen. If it’s kept even a little too long, the blood turns foul. Offal that takes longer to reach the kitchen would naturally taste worse.”
Jade raised her brows. “Sister, you sound… very frustrated.”
Sister Lucy remained silent as usual, preferring not to speak at all. Sister Geenia, on the other hand, was quite talkative whenever a topic caught her interest - and many topics did.
“Oh, I have been making offal pies since I was young,” Sister Geenia blurted out. “No matter how I cook them, they still taste bad. But there’s nothing to be done - it’s the cheapest filling we can get.”
“Well, I supposed we should thank Lord Ashborne again,” Jade said with a nod. “Otherwise, we’d still be eating offal pies instead of the trotters and bones you’re cooking now.”
“Absolutely!” Sister Geenia nodded vigorously. “I’ll pray for Lord Ashborne to live long and bathe in Light.”
Soft laughter spread through the kitchen, and everyone nodded in agreement that their patron was undeniably a good man.
Josh then turned his attention to the suet, helping Jade clean it. “Sensei, do we need to wash this too?”
“Yes, but mostly to remove anything that isn’t fat,” Jade said, scraping away a bit of meat clinging to the large chunk. “Try to make it as pure as possible. Cut everything off before rinsing and soaking it.”
“So… the blood trapped in the liver makes it stink,” Josh said, his eyes bright. “That means these bits in the suet would make the tallow taste bad too, right?”
“I guess so,” Jade replied with a shrug. “If I could get spices like ginger or pepper, it might help. No guarantee, though. It could still taste bad. But, well, worth trying.”
“Ginger and pepper?” Sister Geenia glanced at her. “That’s beyond our reach, Miss Jade. Those are so expensive we only use them for the Spring Ball banquet.”
“I know. That’s why I didn't ask,” Jade said. “Technically, they work wonders on food with strong odour. Especially ginger. It gets rid of fishy smells from river food, and you can even use it as medicine when you catch a cold…”
Sister Geenia thought for a moment. “I think I’ve heard that before - that ginger can be used as a herb. It must be just as you say.”
The conversation continued between Jade and Sister Geenia, with Josh occasionally asking questions about the ingredients he was handling.
Eventually, the two nuns finished their work and served the domus’s supper in several large pots. The monks came to carry them to the dining hall, and Sister Lucy lifted the box of tableware and left the kitchen.
“Now the kitchen is yours, Miss Jade,” Sister Geenia said with a smile. “If it doesn’t take too long, we’ll wait for you. We prefer to have everyone present at the table.”
“It’ll be quick - just gimme a few minutes,” Jade said as she tossed the diced onions into the pot where she had poured the drippings. “I want everyone to taste my stir-fried offal. If it’s good, we’ll have a new recipe for the kitchen.”
Sister Geenia inhaled deeply as the onions hit the hot fat, then again as the offal followed. The rich aroma of browning meat filled the air - utterly different from the funky scent she had expected from offal. Her mouth watered as she said, “Oh, Miss Jade, you truly have a gift in the kitchen. Our food has never tasted better since your arrival.”
Josh nodded frantically beside her. “Sensei, I’ve been through so many streets and houses, and I’ve never smelled anything better than what you’ve made!”
Jade laughed lightly. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”
Still, she didn’t think it was anything to be proud of. To her, this was just basic cooking - the kind of everyday normal that everyone she had known in her previous life had lived.
Once again, she missed the home she would probably never be able to return to.