Fujiwara Yu presented first.
His intestines were a tempting bright red, and the plating was exquisite.
"Hmm, the heat control is good, and the texture is soft, chewy, and tender." Watanabe Kenichi nodded, giving a fair assessment, "The sauce blend also shows effort."
Mouri Kogoro chewed in a theatrical manner, trying to maintain a professional expression: "Mmm... not bad, not bad! The flavor is very rich!"
In reality, he only felt that the sweet and salty sauce flavor was very strong.
Then it was the last judge's turn.
Ōgawa Satoru picked up a piece with his fork, examined it carefully, smelled it, and then put it into his mouth.
He chewed slowly a few times, but his brows furrowed: "Fujiwara-san, your basic skills are solid. But!"
He changed his tone, "You've added too many seasonings! They completely mask the original flavor the intestines should have! Are you making a braised platter or nine-turn intestines?
And I noticed when you were cooking that you over-processed the intestines! Repeated washing caused a significant loss of the intestines' original flavor, stripping the dish of its soul!"
He gave a very low score without hesitation.
Fujiwara Yu's face instantly turned pale, and he retreated dejectedly.
Next was Rina's turn.
Mouri Kogoro watched expectantly as she presented a plate covered with a silver cloche.
As Rina smiled and lifted the lid—
A pungent odor, a mix of strong braised aroma and ammonia, rushed straight to one's head.
The braising liquid also looked exceptionally thick, even a bit... sticky?
Mouri Kogoro's smile instantly froze, and his nose, which had leaned in, instinctively recoiled. His stomach churned.
But he still endured the discomfort and asked, "Uh... Rina-san, your braising liquid looks very special? Is it made with some secret recipe?"
Rina maintained her elegant smile and candidly replied.
"It's a braising liquid made with the water used to clean the intestines as a base. An ancient saying goes, 'original broth for original food,' and I believe this better reflects the ingredient's true flavor."
"Pfft hahahaha!!!"
Rin in the audience could no longer hold back, clutching her stomach and laughing so hard she was doubled over, tears streaming from her eyes,
"Original broth for original food! Hahahaha! She really used the water from washing the intestines! Help me! Uncle Mouri's expression... Hahaha!"
Ran covered her mouth in shock. Conan's mouth twitched, looking speechless at the stage.
Ōgawa Satoru's face was now as black as a pot bottom. He suppressed his discomfort, picked up the smallest piece with the tip of his fork, and said with a trembling voice: "Rina-san, have you tasted this dish you made yourself?"
Rina tilted her head and said seriously, "I did keep a portion." She planned to take it back for Brother Wolf to try.
"How did it feel?" Ōgawa Satoru pressed.
"I removed most of the gamey smell from the intestines," Rina said calmly, continuing, "But, I also kept some. I think, only by retaining some of the intestine's own flavor, will you know you're eating intestines."
"Did you intentionally keep it?" Ōgawa Satoru's voice rose by an octave.
"It was a part left during the cleaning process," Rina explained.
"Was it intentional or accidental?"
"It was intentional."
Ōgawa Satoru: "..."
Watanabe Kenichi: "..."
Mouri Kogoro: "..."
The three judges looked at the nine-turn intestines on the plate, emitting a unique aroma, and then at Rina's sincere face, their expressions like they were wearing masks of pain.
As judges, they were required by the TV station to taste the dishes they reviewed.
Under the gaze of the host and the audience, the three, with a feeling of facing death, dipped a tiny bit of the braising liquid with their forks and symbolically tasted the smallest piece of intestine.
The next second—
"Ugh..." Mouri Kogoro almost threw up on the spot, quickly covering his mouth.
Watanabe Kenichi's face scrunched up, and he desperately gulped down water.
Ōgawa Satoru's face turned from black to green, and he slammed down his fork, gritting his teeth.
Undoubtedly, the three gave extremely low ratings.
Rina looked genuinely disappointed, as if unable to understand why they would stop halfway through.
Having no choice, she bowed slightly and stepped down.
Finally, it was Sakamoto Keisuke's creation.
With Rina's "precedent," his nine-turn intestines, once served, looked much more refreshing and comfortable just from their color and plating.
The enticing reddish-brown color, the perfect sheen of fat, and the rich braised aroma wafting from it all made one's mouth water.
After tasting, Watanabe Kenichi and Mouri Kogoro's eyes lit up.
"Good! Very good!" Watanabe Kenichi couldn't help but exclaim, "The intestines are handled very cleanly, without the slightest off-flavor!!
The texture is soft and tender, the sauce is rich and mellow, and the various flavors are perfectly balanced! The heat and seasoning are both impeccable! This is the most authentic nine-turn intestines I've eaten today!"
Mouri Kogoro also nodded repeatedly, this time genuinely: "Delicious! So delicious! Even better than what I've had in high-end Chinese restaurants!"
Sakamoto Keisuke's face showed an excited and expectant smile, his gaze fixed on the last judge—Ōgawa Satoru.
Ōgawa Satoru slowly picked up his fork, cut off the smallest piece closest to him on the edge of the plate, examined it carefully, smelled it closely, and then slowly put it into his mouth.
He chewed very slowly, with no expression on his face.
The studio was silent, everyone awaiting his evaluation.
Sakamoto Keisuke nervously clenched his fists.
Finally, Ōgawa Satoru swallowed the food and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
He looked up, his gaze sharp as he looked at Sakamoto Keisuke, and slowly began: "Sakamoto-san, this dish has the same problem as Fujiwara-san's—excessive seasoning, careless balance, and an obsession with technique over restraint. My evaluation is—"
"Disqualified!"
As soon as Ōgawa Satoru finished his evaluation, the next second, his face suddenly changed drastically.
He suddenly clutched his throat, his eyes widened in terror, and foam continuously frothed from his mouth.
"Uh ah—!"
He let out a painful scream, his body convulsed violently, and he, along with his chair, toppled backward, falling heavily to the ground with a thud.
"Ōgawa-san!"
"Oh my! What's happening?!"
"Call an ambulance quick! Call the police too!"
The studio instantly erupted into chaos, the host panicked, staff rushed forward, and Watanabe Kenichi and Mouri Kogoro also stood up in shock.
Conan, whose habit of getting excited whenever a case arose, acted up again, jumping directly from the audience seats and rushing towards the judges' table.
He immediately focused on the plate of nine-turn intestines in front of Ōgawa Satoru, which had only been tasted once, and the fork that had fallen to the ground.
"Poisoning?!"
Conan pushed through the panicked crowd, crouched beside Ōgawa Satoru, and quickly checked his pupils and pulse.
As expected, Ōgawa Satoru's heart had already stopped.
He's dead!
To confirm his suspicion, Conan leaned close to Ōgawa Satoru's mouth and smelled it.
The familiar bitter almond scent.
Cyanide poisoning again