Chapter 149

As I stepped into the kitchen, I was lost in thought upon seeing the perfectly prepared bear meat in such a short time.

Bear.

In my past life, when I dreamed of becoming a chef, bears had already been designated as a protected species, and in most countries, using bear meat for food was prohibited. However, before that, bear meat was considered a very high-end ingredient.

After all, bears are creatures at the top of the food chain, with very few in the wild.

It wasn’t an animal whose meat could be easily obtained.

Yet, despite its status as a premium ingredient, bear meat was something that couldn’t be eaten without proper preparation.

The reason was the intense gamey smell inherent in bear meat.

This overpowering stench, incomparable to that of wild boar or venison, would render the meat worse than ordinary pork or chicken if not handled by a true expert.

That’s why, in my past life, to minimize the gamey smell, they restricted the bears’ diet and raised them to produce meat with less odor.

The taste of the meat varied depending on what the bear primarily ate.

But even bear meat raised with dietary restrictions still carried a strong gamey smell unmatched by other meats.

If even farmed animals were like that, the meat I was about to prepare now was from a ferocious monster bear, no ordinary wild animal.

Thus, I was certain.

Today’s dish depended on subduing the gamey smell of this bear meat.

There are two main ways to control the gamey smell of bear meat.

One is to remove the gamey smell from the meat itself, and the other is to preserve the meat’s natural flavor while making it as palatable as possible.

The former includes the world-famous Chinese dish of bear paws.

However, that method requires boiling the bear paws for at least a day, or even a week depending on the recipe, so it wasn’t an option for me, who needed to cook immediately.

Of course, I couldn’t leave the gamey smell untouched, so I would take minimal measures.

Instead of spending a long time suppressing the bear meat’s flavor, I decided to flip the idea and enhance its taste to some extent.

Certainly, the most prominent feature of bear meat is its intense gamey smell, but that doesn’t mean the meat only tastes gamey.

If bear meat were only about the gamey smell, it would merely be rare, not a premium ingredient.

Once the gamey smell is removed, the true flavor of bear meat emerges—sweetness and rich fat.

Removing the gamey smell could risk losing these unique flavors.

Conversely, minimizing the suppression of the gamey smell and enhancing the meat’s flavor could bring out its deep richness.

That was my strategy.

With the direction set, it was time to start cooking.

First, the marinade.

The marinade needs at least thirty minutes to an hour to be effective, so it had to be done first.

No, considering the bear meat’s characteristics, thirty minutes wouldn’t be enough.

I’d have to push it to an hour.

First, I cut the Crescent Bear’s loin into suitable pieces for steak.

The loin, being a lean cut, should have less gamey smell compared to other parts of the bear.

The gamey smell in animals usually concentrates in bones, fat, and skin.

Next, to capture the bear meat’s flavor, I added the necessary ingredients for the marinade.

Using mediocre ingredients for the marinade, as one might for pork or beef, wouldn’t work here.

Even with mediocre ingredients, spending several times the usual marinating time might yield some flavor, but…

Time was the issue.

There wasn’t much time.

Thus, to control the strong-flavored meat, I needed to clash it with strong-flavored foods in the marinade.

First, I generously coated the meat with olive oil, then added soy sauce and lemon slices for flavor.

Wait, considering this was monster meat, I decided to slice some Predatory Water fruit instead of lemon.

For ordinary meat, this would suffice, but it still wasn’t enough.

I added garlic, crushed dried chili, bay leaves, star anise, and Sichuan pepper.

Quite a variety of spices, but fortunately, I had a hefty bounty from recently catching a wanted criminal, so I spared no expense on spices.

And finally, honey.

The second biggest drawback of bear meat, after the gamey smell, is its toughness.

Honey has a tenderizing effect, so adding it to the marinade would make the meat more tender.

With the marinade started, I prepared the sauce for the steak.

Since I used strong spices like star anise and Sichuan pepper to counter the bear meat’s strong smell, I decided to go with a Chinese-style sauce.

For a dish with strong gamey flavors like bear meat, a fruit-based sauce might not mask the unique aroma, leading to disaster.

Instead, using a strong-flavored Chinese-style sauce that could stand up to the bear meat’s smell was a better choice.

First, I mixed water, soy sauce, salt, and starch to create the base flavor and thickness.

Then, I finely chopped onions, bell peppers, and chili for the sauce’s texture.

This was the basic preparation.

The key to this Chinese-style sauce was the final ingredient.

Dried oysters.

Astram, located in the heart of the continent, was a trade hub, but even there, fresh seafood was hard to come by.

Seafood from the land spoiled easily, so in Astram, far from the sea, it was rare.

Instead, dried seafood was more accessible.

Mostly dried fish circulated, but what caught my eye at the market today was dried oysters.

The merchant didn’t know how to sell them, so I quickly bought them bundled with dried fish.

Dried oysters alone might seem inedible, but their true use was as an ingredient in main dishes, not as the main dish itself.

I ground the dried oysters into a fine powder.

Boiling this powder in water would dissolve the oysters’ essence.

Adding soy sauce, salt, starch, and sweeteners to this liquid created a slightly sweet, savory sauce with the oysters’ umami—a makeshift oyster sauce.

While real oyster sauce uses fresh oysters, this would do.

I poured this oyster essence into the soy sauce-based sauce.

Though not as refined as store-bought versions, it was a decent imitation.

Adding the chopped vegetables and simmering with soy sauce, sugar, and rice wine completed the Chinese-style steak sauce.

With the sauce done, I took out the marinated Crescent Bear meat.

Though it hadn’t marinated for a full hour, it was enough.

I wiped off the marinade and started frying the meat in a pan.

Sizzle.

The satisfying sound of meat cooking.

Flipping it over.

Sizzle.

Cooking both sides evenly.

Once both sides were nicely browned, I plated the steaks and drizzled the makeshift oyster sauce over them.

It was done.

Tonight’s dinner.

Crescent Bear Steak with Chinese-style sauce.