conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  We’d brought lunch from home today, having learned our lesson with the cafeteria. White rice, seasoned fried chicken, rolled omelet with scallions, and green pepper namul. All simple dishes, but I was confident in their taste. I’d noticed Philine had her eyes on Claire’s lunch for a while now.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  “Miss Claire, how is today’s lunch?” I inquired nonchalantly.
conversations.prefix: Rae:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  Claire smiled. “Delicious. Thank you for making lunch every day, Rae.”
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  That smile alone could have fed me for days. I needed to eat too, so I got started on the fried chicken. We had no problem affording food, since Bauer provided us with financial aid as part of the exchange program—hence why this fried chicken wasn’t breast meat but thigh meat. I’d rubbed it with cooking sherry and salt, let it marinate in my very own special sauce, and then coated it in potato starch before frying it in a small amount of oil, resulting in fried chicken that exploded with the aroma of my special sauce when you bit into it. We were eating it cold, so the meat wasn’t particularly juicy, but it was still delicious. I tried the rolled omelet next. I don’t think I need to explain my process in much detail—I just mixed diced scallions with egg and fried it, as you usually would. I supposed I had added some mayonnaise and sugar to bring out the omelet’s natural flavor. I didn’t care much for sweet omelets myself, so it was just a pinch of the latter. Claire liked this dish a lot, so I often included it in our lunches. The namul was the last thing I ate. Back in modern-day Japan, this dish would have been the easiest to make, but in this world, it was the hardest. In Japan, I would have simply finely chopped green peppers and mixed them with salt, sesame oil, and chicken bone broth powder; microwaved the result; and then sprinkled sesame seeds on top. But in this world, I was missing the most critical component: the microwave. Okay, I’m kidding. I was also missing chicken bone broth powder. Consommé powder, chicken bone broth powder, dashi soup stock, MSG—these flavor enhancers were the culmination of my world’s culinary science, but I hadn’t truly understood their impact until I came to this world. I’d thought I might make my own substitute—until I realized it would take ages. I would have to cook various different meats, fish, bones, and vegetables for a long, long time while also skimming off any scum that formed. Consommés and dashi-based soups did already exist in this world, but they were all closely guarded restaurant secrets. In the end, I settled on making a faux consommé powder. I took carrots, onions, celery, ordinary mushrooms, and shiitake mushrooms, and I sliced them all ultra-thin. I then dried everything under the sun, dry-roasted the onions with a frying pan, and ground up the results with a mortar and pestle.
conversations.prefix: Rae: