"Oh, of course, no problem. Sir, you have great taste. Don't worry—this biting cabbage will never disappoint you."
As soon as he realized someone was buying, Tom feared the customer might change his mind. Without hesitation, he placed three biting cabbages on a plate and handed them to Quirrell without saying another word.
"No, no—pack me six. I'll eat three here and take the other three to go," Quirrell said, throwing two gold coins onto the counter with a decisive thud.
Today, he had to taste this dish for himself—to find out what culinary skills this cook possessed that could captivate even the devil himself, Voldemort! If he only bought one portion, Quirrell was sure that damn snake would eat it all by himself.
Tom blinked at the sight of the golden Galleons, quickly pocketed them, then added a small paper bag and handed it over with the plate. "Here you go, Mr. Quirrell—your biting cabbage."
Quirrell took the dinner plate and the paper bag, lifting one piece of the cabbage delicacy under the curious gazes of the nearby wizards.
The tender green cabbage was wrapped in a transparent, glossy sugar coating, sparkling with charm in the sunlight. At first glance, it looked more like a green apple-flavored candy than a vegetable.
Visually, it was quite appealing—though perhaps still a bit lacking compared to some of the more dazzling magical confections. But the most curious part was the fact that it contained biting cabbage. Could something like that even be safe to eat?
Quirrell hesitated, then popped one into his mouth.
"It's just... sweet," Quirrell muttered, the candy still resting on his tongue. He suspected the real flavor would come from chewing, so he bit down and crushed it into pieces.
As the sugary shell cracked, a gentle herbal aroma mingled with rich caramel and quickly spread through his mouth.
The biting cabbage—having been soaked in syrup, dried, and roasted—now carried a faint caramel note that paired astonishingly well with its inherent bitterness. The result was an intoxicating flavor harmony!
With just one bite, Quirrell was completely taken in. He couldn't help but go in for a second.
That bite brought him deeper into the heart of the cabbage itself. Tiny salt crystals on its surface slowly dissolved, releasing a subtle saltiness that balanced the sweetness perfectly—making the flavor even more refreshing and addictive.
This feeling...
Quirrell closed his eyes, savoring the bliss that overtook him with every chew.
It was divine. No wonder even the devil Voldemort had forgiven him for eating the pine marten—it turned out he had been seduced by this chef's cooking all along!
"How is it? Tell us—how's the biting cabbage?" a nearby wizard asked eagerly, unable to resist asking after seeing Quirrell's almost ecstatic expression.
His look of delight was just too compelling—it stirred up everyone's curiosity and hunger.
"Delicious! Absolutely delicious!" Quirrell couldn't bring himself to lie—even if he wanted to. He praised it freely: "This is the best... candy I've ever tasted."
This candied biting cabbage really shouldn't even be considered a vegetable—it was far more like a dessert, a magical snack crafted with precision and care.
"So good..." murmured Hotch. Watching Quirrell's sincere, moved expression, he couldn't resist any longer. He turned to Tom and quickly said, "Tom, give me three servings!"
"Sure thing!" Tom said cheerfully, loading three portions for Hotch. The man could barely wait and was about to take a bite.
But just then, an exclamation interrupted the room.
Hotch paused mid-motion and turned toward the source of the outcry. It was Quirrell—staring at his own hands in shock.
"What is it? What's wrong?" asked another wizard who had been about to try the candy. His voice held concern.
But Quirrell didn't respond. He simply kept staring, disbelief etched on his face.
He was feeling something—something powerful.
His magic had clearly and unmistakably increased!
He hadn't felt a surge like this since he'd come of age. Back then, he had sought out Voldemort, desperate to improve his magic.
And yet now… it was a dish, not dark magic, that had done the trick?
The Voldemort he had once gone to for help had become his master, but the one who truly advanced his magical power—was a cook?
That kind of realization shattered his pride.
His body trembled from the absurdity of it all.
"Hey! Are you alright?" another wizard asked nervously. Quirrell's shaking was starting to look alarming, like he might collapse.
Hotch stopped chewing and turned back to Tom, asking with urgency, "Tom, what's going on here?"
"I… I don't know?" Tom said, genuinely baffled. He had never expected such a dramatic reaction to something Allen had cooked. After all, Allen mainly made these dishes for himself. But Quirrell's reaction didn't look fake—it was too real, too raw. A bit worried, Tom called out, "Mr. Quirrell, are you okay?"
"I... I'm fine." Quirrell tried to speak calmly, but even as he said it, tears started streaming down his cheeks.
Was he really okay? Tom panicked and asked again, "Do you need to go to the hospital?"
"No, no... I just... I can't control my emotions. It's just... too delicious." Quirrell's voice cracked with emotion. He sniffled and waved his hand. "I'm sorry... sorry to cause a scene."
Then, head bowed, shoulders hunched, Quirrell turned and walked slowly upstairs.
Everyone watched in stunned silence as he left. Confused glances passed between them.
"Is it really that good? So good it makes people cry?" one wizard muttered, skeptical but intrigued.
But most eyes were now fixed on the plate of candied biting cabbage.
Who wouldn't want to try it now?
"Give me one!"
"I'll take two!"
"Don't be greedy! I want five!"
"Calm down, calm down!" Tom shouted, trying to maintain order as the crowd surged forward. "Everyone gets a chance—but the supply is limited! For now, two portions per person!"
He shouted instructions while busily collecting coins, all the while discreetly setting one portion aside for himself.
"Ha! This stuff actually boosts magic!" someone exclaimed in astonishment after tasting it.
"It's true! I feel it—it's even stronger than yesterday's barbecue!"
The room was soon full of voices raised in excitement and awe.
The news spread fast. Some ran off to tell their friends, while others gobbled their portions with reverent joy.
Allen's name—though he wasn't even present—was being carried by word of mouth through the wizarding community like wildfire.
This wasn't just food.
It was art.
It was magic.