Inside a renowned restaurant in France, the main course was gently served onto the table, accompanied by red wine slowly poured into a glass.
Samut offered the server a faint smile before turning his gaze to his own table.
The arrangement was perfect: a clean white tablecloth, exquisitely designed plates, and cutlery precisely placed on either side, as tradition dictated. A single candle enhanced the evening ambiance. It was a pity Samut was dining alone tonight. If he'd had a companion, the atmosphere surely would have elevated to another level.
The main course he ordered today was 'Duck Confit.'
A classic French dish, its primary protein was a duck thigh, slow-cooked using a technique called 'confit' – simmering the meat in its own fat at a low temperature. This process allowed the meat to cook slowly, retaining its tenderness and juiciness, while gradually developing a crispy exterior. The duck in front of Samut had undergone this precise method for six hours, resulting in a melt-in-your-mouth tenderness akin to braised meat in Thai cuisine, yet with a skin as crisp as fried chicken.
The side dishes on the plate included a velvety smooth mashed potato, its texture almost like a sauce due to a generous amount of cream, forming a base layer. On top, a sautéed mushroom sauce, rich with the duck's own fat, was drizzled. A touch of green came from lightly seasoned, buttered spinach.
Samut used his fork to scoop up some mashed potato and tasted it.
Mmm...
A little too much cream. A slight reduction would have given the mashed potatoes a better set...
The first touch of his knife piercing the duck's skin offered a satisfying crispness, followed by a tenderness that allowed the meat to separate with minimal effort. This was, indeed, a rather perfect confit. The initial flavor Samut registered was the rich intensity of the sauce, crafted from duck fat, butter, mushrooms, cream, rosemary, and thyme. It harmonized beautifully with the duck meat. The faint gamey scent of the duck lingered but wasn't overpowering. Furthermore, because the duck and sauce were so rich, the milder spinach provided a refreshing counterpoint, cutting through the richness to a degree.
This is it... this is the taste of true food... this is what they call complexity of flavor.
No...
One should say, it's truly delightful that humans invented such delicious ways to prepare food...
A Future Without True Food
That was the last memory Samut could distinctly recall.
Before he awoke in this unfamiliar place. Samut had been conscious in this small, peculiar room for three days now.
Why peculiar, you ask?
Because not only was it not his room, but everything in it—the television, computer, bed, air conditioner, and other appliances—was vastly different from what Samut, throughout his 35 years on Earth, considered normal. The computer had no screen, instead projecting images into the air, just like he'd seen in blockbuster films. The cooling system wasn't a rectangular air conditioner he was used to, but merely a small button; pressing it would instantly adjust the room's temperature to his liking. The bed was strangely shaped, without legs, seemingly suspended above the floor by some unseen force. When he lay down, soft foam and a plush blanket would appear.
Everything in this room felt excessively futuristic. So advanced, it was as if this place wasn't his world at all.
Yet, after multiple checks via the internet, the conclusion was clear: this was his world. His same old world, just a thousand years in the future from his time.
The young man looked at his reflection in the mirror, which also displayed weather conditions and daily news headlines. Emerald green eyes, brown hair, and a clean-shaven face that didn't resemble a 35-year-old bachelor.
That's right...
The body standing before the mirror wasn't his own, but that of a 20-year-old young man named Theo.
Three days ago, after opening his eyes on this bed, confusion, agitation, and anxiety had flooded him ceaselessly, making him vomit several times. But then, after a while, memories of this body gradually returned, allowing him to somewhat assess the current situation.
The place he was in was a thousand years removed from his original era. Thus, everything that seemed strange to him now was merely commonplace basic equipment from a millennium ago. More importantly, and perhaps bizarrely, the concept of 'countries' no longer existed on this Earth.
For some reason, about 800 years ago, a Global Government was established, abolishing nationality based on countries. Instead, each country was merged into one of the seven continents: Asia, Africa, Europe, North America, South America, Australia, and Antarctica.
Everyone's nationality was determined by the continent they resided in. The word 'country' had become a distant, almost unused term from the past. There was no longer Thailand, no America, no Korea. If he had to specify Theo's nationality, the answer was Asian. And if one were to delve deeper into which country Theo's bloodline came from, that question would not receive a clear answer, as Asia comprised 48 nations that had merged over a millennium, with people from various nationalities having migrated and assimilated completely.
Of course, that wasn't the only shocking revelation.
Even after a thousand years, the problem of social stratification persisted, seemingly even more severe. Each family placed particular importance on their own lineage, as well as the inheritance of family legacies.
Initially, he didn't quite understand why this problem had festered into a caste system based on families. But throughout the three days he'd been awake in Theo's body, he had begun to grasp the fundamental issue of this millennium-old world.
It was a monumental problem... a colossal problem he never expected to occur on this planet.
"Theo, dinner time!"
Hani, Theo's older sister, called from downstairs.
Samut, in Theo's body, took off his outer shirt before following her downstairs.
A 45-year-old man sat at the head of the table – Theo's father. Next to him sat his mother, constantly wearing a cheerful smile.
The young man sat down beside his sister and looked at the white plate on the table.
"Today we're having a famous dish from Europe... Mom got it at a special price!"
Halina, Theo's mother, said with a beaming face, holding up a green can resembling a soda can with her usual lively demeanor. She pressed a button on the lid, allowing the seal to slowly release air, before pouring its contents onto her plate and passing it to Theo.
The young man stared at the can in his hand, his face blank.
The moment he inverted the can onto his plate, a small, clear capsule with a spaghetti-like symbol dropped onto it.
Yes...
This was the world's biggest problem...
The problem this future world faced was the extinction of every single ingredient that existed in his era.
Samut wasn't sure how it happened, but it had definitely begun a thousand years ago. Suddenly, many animal species started dying off without reason. Herbs that once flourished began to wither, forcing the government to urgently address the crisis. The best solution was to collect all remaining ingredients, break them down into chemical components, and synthesize essential nutrients into capsule form.
Humanity survived the crisis, but not without significant loss. Naturally, human eating habits changed forever after that. For a thousand years, no one on this planet remembered the true taste of pad krapao, pizza, or genuine spaghetti. No matter how hard they tried to make the capsules taste similar to traditional foods, what was synthesized could never truly replicate food cooked by human hands.
Finally, after 500 years of global evolution and advanced technology, a group of scientists successfully synthesized artificial plants and living organisms. But their cost was exorbitant. Samut estimated they were as expensive as gold in his past era. Therefore, a single plate of food for one meal was considered a luxury for the average person.
Of course, animals and herbs weren't entirely extinct, but they had mutated into something entirely different. A single basil leaf was as poisonous as a cobra's venom. A single pig was as ferocious as a hippo. Even a fish in the river, which could once be caught and grilled immediately, was no longer edible, having mutated into a creature with an iron-like shell.
They had become things people in this era actively avoided.
[Spaghetti Carbonara Flavored Capsule] Ingredient Quality: E Cooking Level: F Components: Various synthetic nutrient substitutes Overall Score: E
A window resembling a computer system from Theo's bedroom floated before him. He could guess that this data was describing the food in front of him, but what he couldn't understand was why only he could see this window. The only equation Samut could formulate in his mind was that this window must be connected to his being transported to this future world...
"Are you zoning out again, son? Are you feeling unwell?" Halina asked her son with a worried expression.
"Ah... no, Mom. I was just wondering how such a small capsule could be food..."
"Saying strange things again... hurry up and eat."
Thamnath put down his newspaper and picked up a capsule. Everyone at the table followed suit, placing them into their mouths simultaneously. It was the custom of this era to spend only a few minutes together at the dinner table. At the very least, tasting their food together made everyone feel good about sharing the meal.
The capsule burst. The flavor within slowly permeated Theo's tongue. The nutrients and taste inside the capsule were powdery. Upon contact with saliva, they gradually coated his entire mouth, delivering the flavor.
This is really spaghetti?
Samut could recall the taste of all the spaghetti he had ever eaten, and he was quite certain that the flavor in his mouth right now was not spaghetti. Although his subconscious told him it was delicious, he believed it was because Theo's body had likely memorized the distorted taste of capsule food over the past 20 years, causing this body's memory to perceive the taste in his mouth as delicious food called spaghetti.
No... this taste is definitely not it.
Samut closed his eyes, trying to recall the flavors in his mouth.
Four days ago, before he inhabited this body, Samut was a world-renowned food critic. He was an evaluator from Mustar, an organization akin to a food award body that restaurants worldwide yearned to be appraised by. So, when it came to tasting, he was confident that his tongue could recall the details of any food he had ever consumed. However, the tongue in his mouth now was not the tongue of Samut, the god-tier food critic with perfect taste perception.
It was Theo's tongue, the tongue of a young man whose taste buds were distorted due to never having eaten true food.
Samut could only try to use the knowledge he had accumulated as a food critic to discern the flavors.
[You have met the conditions. Your taste perception has increased to Rank E.]
"What a truly delicious taste," Halina remarked. "Indeed... we should order this dish more often, dear."
That's right...
I remember now what this taste is...
Suddenly, tears streamed down Theo's cheeks, causing everyone at the table to look at him in surprise.
"Why are you crying, son?" Halina quickly stood up, rushing to Theo with concern. Hani, sitting beside him, also moved closer, grabbing his arm.
I remember...
This salty taste... this unique aroma... and that smooth, creamy sensation, but it's not cream... that smell isn't cheese either. It's the smell of fermented fish paste!
[You have successfully recalled the original taste of 'fermented fish paste'. Your food taste memory has increased to 15%.]
It was a success notification, confirming his understanding of this taste was not mistaken.
It seemed that over the past thousand years, the development of capsules and the attempt to mimic food flavors had been too prolonged. People on Earth hadn't consumed true food for so long. And even if synthetic ingredients were available as substitutes, their price was exorbitant. Therefore, even workers in the production line likely didn't taste those foods often. As vast periods of time passed, the true tastes were forgotten, replaced by the strange, synthesized flavors.
The young man swallowed the capsule and wiped away his tears before turning to Mrs. Halina, who mistakenly believed the taste in her mouth was carbonara, with a sorrowful expression.
"It's delicious... I'm so happy it made me cry..."
He was a food critic with precise taste perception, capable of discerning every component within a dish. A delicate palate that could distinguish even different types of rice grains cooked together in a single pot.
A food critic who had traveled the world and tasted the authentic flavors of countless countries. Yet now, he was stuck in the body of a boy with distorted taste buds, living in an era where food was created through synthesized substances. And even if he were to explain his knowledge from his memories, it would likely be dismissed as madness, for the people of this era had never smelled, seen, or touched food from a thousand years ago.
It was hell.
The kind of hell... a food critic like him least wanted to encounter!