Because of the covert nature of Loid and Yor's situation, Gustave found the ingredients available at their local supermarket surprisingly limited compared to what he was accustomed to in the East Blue's diverse markets.
This seemed to be a common issue in Western countries - while they certainly had delicious cuisine, the variety of available ingredients was frustratingly narrow compared to the rich culinary traditions he'd experienced in places like Water 7 or even the rural markets of the Dragon Raja world.
After browsing the sparse selection, Gustave settled on premium beef tenderloin and fresh Atlantic salmon, leaving the remaining vegetables and seasonings to Loid's judgment. With their shopping complete, they made their way back to the Forger residence.
Knock knock knock!
"Papa's back!" Anya's excited voice rang out from inside, followed by the rapid patter of small feet rushing to the door.
She threw the door open to reveal Gustave and Loid standing there with several bags of groceries.
"Cookies! Cookies! Where are Anya's cookies, Papa?" she demanded, her eyes scanning both bags frantically. When she couldn't spot them immediately, her lower lip began to tremble with the threat of tears.
"Did Papa... did Papa forget?"
Seeing his daughter's genuine distress, Loid couldn't help but smile as he produced a package of star-shaped cookies from behind his back - exactly where Gustave had suggested he hide them.
"Papa's so mean!" Anya protested, though her actions contradicted her words as she snatched the cookies eagerly and scampered to the table. She tore open the package with the enthusiasm only a child could muster, her little legs swinging happily as she munched away.
"How did that feel, Mr. Loid?" Gustave asked with an amused smile.
"Your advice was spot-on, Mr. Gustave," Loid admitted, watching his daughter with newfound understanding. "Perhaps I have been too... formal in my interactions with Anya. A little playfulness might bridge the gap between us."
Gustave had noticed immediately that Loid and Anya's relationship felt textbook-perfect but oddly mechanical - technically correct but lacking the natural warmth of a genuine father-daughter bond. His suggestion to introduce a bit of harmless mischief seemed to be working already.
"Gentlemen, please don't just stand there in the doorway!" Yor called out, appearing to take their bags and usher them inside. "Come in, come in!"
Once inside, Gustave took a moment to observe the apartment's layout. It was undeniably cozy, but almost suspiciously immaculate - every surface spotless, every item in its designated place. The precision reminded him of a military barracks more than a lived-in family home.
Definitely fits with Loid's uptight personality, he mused.
"Mr. Gustave, what would you like to drink?" Yor asked once he'd settled onto their sofa.
"Tea would be wonderful, thank you, Mrs. Yor."
As she bustled about preparing refreshments, Gustave couldn't help but admire her grace and genuine warmth. In another life, before his adventures across multiple worlds and his responsibilities to the Bamboo Staff, she would have been exactly his type - beautiful, kind, domestic. But his perspective had shifted dramatically since then.
While Gustave sipped his tea and half-watched a local variety show with Anya, Loid began preparations for their evening meal. The menu was ambitious: black pepper beef tenderloin pasta as the main course, complemented by grilled steak, salmon sashimi, and a refined green pea soup.
After a few minutes of television, Gustave's professional instincts got the better of him. He simply couldn't sit idle while cooking was happening nearby.
"Mr. Loid," he said, wandering into the kitchen, "are you planning to make boiled chicken?"
He'd noticed a whole chicken simmering in a large pot, the aromatic steam rising invitingly.
"Oh, that's just for stock," Loid explained, testing the chicken's doneness with a fork. "I'm making a base for the green pea soup. The chicken itself... well, I hadn't really decided what to do with it."
Gustave's eyes lit up with culinary enthusiasm. "Would you mind if I took charge of the chicken? I have an idea that might complement your meal nicely."
"You cook as well?" Loid asked, surprised. In his experience, most men in this country barely knew how to boil water unless they were professional chefs.
"Haha, I suppose I forgot to mention - I actually own a restaurant," Gustave revealed with a modest smile.
"Ah, that explains your confidence! Please, by all means, the chicken is yours. I only need the broth."
"Excellent!"
Gustave immediately began planning a dish of cold shredded chicken - something light and refreshing that would balance Loid's heavier Western preparations. He could start as soon as the bird finished cooking, but first he needed to assess the available seasonings.
Opening Loid's spice cabinet, he found a predictably Western selection - nothing like the diverse array he was used to working with. However, years of interdimensional cooking had taught him improvisation.
No scallions? Shredded onions will work. No fresh chilies? This chili sauce should provide the heat. A good chef adapts.
Twenty minutes later, the chicken had cooked to perfect tenderness. Gustave immediately transferred it to an ice bath he'd prepared, watching the meat contract slightly as the cold shocked the proteins into firmness.
"What an interesting technique," Loid observed, pausing in his own preparations.
"The rapid cooling tightens the meat fibers," Gustave explained, his hands working efficiently. "It'll shred more cleanly and hold its texture better in the final dish."
Once completely cooled, he began tearing the chicken into perfectly uniform strips - not too thick, not too thin. His movements were precise and rhythmic, the result of countless hours perfecting his craft.
Into a large mixing bowl went minced garlic, finely julienned onions, a careful measure of salt and sugar for balance, a dollop of chili sauce for heat, and a generous squeeze of fresh lemon juice for brightness. He tossed everything together with practiced ease, adjusting the seasoning by taste.
"A simple cold shredded chicken," he announced with satisfaction. "The key is balance - sweet, sour, salty, spicy, all in harmony."
Meanwhile, Loid was demonstrating his own considerable kitchen skills. He melted butter in a heavy-bottomed pan, adding shredded onions to sweat until translucent and fragrant. The peeled peas went in next, their bright green color intensifying as they hit the hot fat.
"One minute exactly," he murmured, timing the vegetables with professional precision before adding his fragrant chicken stock.
The soup simmered while he seasoned it carefully with salt and fresh cracked black pepper. When the peas had reached perfect tenderness, he transferred the entire mixture to a blender, processing until silky smooth.
"Mr. Gustave, would you mind plating the steak and soup?" Loid requested as he began preparing his pasta. "I'd like to focus on getting the timing right for the main course."
"Of course!"
Gustave appreciated the trust - and the fact that Loid recognized good help when he saw it. He arranged the perfectly seared steaks on warmed plates, using his knife skills to trim any imperfections and create clean, restaurant-quality presentations.
The rich aroma of beef and butter filled the kitchen, making Anya abandon her cartoons to investigate.
"Something smells amazing!" she declared, bouncing on her toes to peek at the preparations.
"Just a little longer, Anya," Gustave said warmly, giving her nose a gentle tap. "Good food takes patience."
"Uh-huh!" she nodded enthusiastically, though she remained stationed hopefully nearby.
Loid's pasta preparation was textbook perfect - he heated olive oil in a large skillet, added the pre-cooked beef tenderloin strips, and tossed them with al dente pasta and a generous coating of freshly cracked black pepper and garlic. The technique was essentially stir-frying, he explained, which created better flavor integration than simply topping the noodles with sauce.
Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with the complex, appetizing aromas of their combined efforts - East meeting West in perfect harmony.
"I think we're ready," Loid announced, giving his pasta one final toss.
"Perfect timing," Gustave agreed, putting the finishing touches on his plating.
The table was soon laden with their collaborative feast - a beautiful fusion of culinary traditions that promised to be as memorable as it was delicious.