Four-Color Harmony
Clink.
By the time he came back to himself, the bowl was empty.
Not so much as a single grain of rice left behind.
Gone?
He stared at the emptied bowl as if something might still appear—but a finished rice bowl does not refill itself.
What small eater? Me?
He had never been a light eater. He had only eaten lightly because nothing had ever been worth finishing.
Just thinking about it made his mouth water all over again.
He wanted more. More. More.
Gulp.
With saliva already sliding down his throat, what was there left to hesitate over?
The decision came easy and fast.
O-one more bowl…!
He had made up his mind. He would have another.
The resolve was quick. His body, unfortunately, was not.
"Hup—!!"
When had that line even formed?
A long queue already stretched out in front of the rice-bowl stall.
What do I do now?
Even if he went, would he even get any? Then again, it was a rice bowl—they seemed to come out fast enough. Still, to get in line he first had to stand up—
"Excuse me."
"Yes?"
He was being hurried out of his seat before he could even rise.
"If you're finished, could we sit? We need to eat quickly."
"Quickly? Ah—you've got those rice bowls, don't you?"
"That's right. They're seriously good."
"You've already had one?"
"We ate them fast! Heh."
Ah. So he had competition.
"C-congratulations."
"Huh? Heh heh heh. Yeah. Yeah, it is something to congratulate. They're almost out, too. Wait—!?"
The moment he heard they were nearly sold out, Jo Yong-tae's body was already running—
straight for the rice-bowl stall.
What a circus.
The Youth Mall was buzzing. All around him, voices kept rising in praise of how good the food was.
And the epicenter of that noise?
Jang On-gyu was not the kind of man to miss it. He might wear a mask of composure, but inside he was scanning every corner faster than anyone—his so-called gift for observation hard at work.
There, just as I thought.
He had recognized it before. That was a place that actually knew how to cook. Skill at that delicate balance of seasoning did not simply vanish.
Exactly as he expected—they had hit it big.
I knew they'd pull something off.
They had struck the bell square on. How could he possibly overlook that?
He should go take a look.
Then again, skipping the line would not do his image any favors…
He was still weighing it when someone conveniently scratched the itch for him.
"Chairman Jang, over there…"
"Chairman? I've told you—president suits me better."
"Ah, right, right. So, over there…"
PD Lee. He had been fretting and fidgeting toward that rice-bowl stall for a while now. Sidling closer, he kept pointing at it, practically begging them to go.
Clearly angling for a shot.
This is why I like this PD.
Jang On-gyu had assumed he was buried in the shoot—when had he even spotted that stall? The man's instincts never missed.
"You want us to head straight over there, then?"
"Yes! Yes! I know there's an order to these things, but—you see it, right? At this rate they'll sell out."
"We need to get the cut, so that won't do."
The PD had already laid the table. All that remained was to fall into step.
"Exactly! So please—! Ah, was I rushing too much?"
"Not at all. Not at all. Moments like this call for speed. After you. I'll follow."
So they would have to skip the order, wouldn't they? And since a broadcast-world PD had called for it, it wasn't as if Jang On-gyu himself was in the wrong.
"Aww… you should come this way too…"
"Ahh…"
Disappointed sighs rose from every side, but the picture still looked like a man forced into motion against his will. At this level, people should understand—it was for the broadcast.
"Thank you for being so considerate, President Jang! Hey! Everyone move! We're going that way!"
PD Lee took the lead. Watching him, Jang On-gyu thought quietly to himself,
…Why won't he call me Chairman?
It almost felt as if the PD had left something out on purpose. Jang On-gyu's brow twitched for no good reason.
People really are two-faced.
Only Jang Hansu, standing nearest, caught that expression.
"Huh? They're cutting the line…"
"Hey, that's Jang On-gyu. They're filming."
"Ah… well, can't be helped."
"Yeah. Let's just wait a little longer."
They pushed through the rope, and no one complained. It was hard to scold a man serving as a judge for this very competition.
Jang On-gyu smiled faintly as he walked all the way to the front of the line.
Satisfying.
This was why position mattered. Stand still, and people took care of you. Could anything be more convenient?
"Welcome!"
"Welcome!"
As Jang On-gyu stepped up, Kim Sunwu and his two part-timers greeted him with bright, ringing voices. Loud, clear—exactly the kind of voice a person in the business ought to have. A greeting alone could make a customer feel well treated.
Jang On-gyu ordered at once.
"One rice bowl—no, three, including the MCs here."
"Three?"
"Yes."
The problem came next.
"I'm terribly sorry, but would two be all right?"
"Excuse me?"
Three was not possible.
There's plenty of food, though…
Even a glance said quantity was no issue. Three bowls would leave more than enough still in the pans. So why—
Kim Sunwu looked apologetic and genuinely troubled as he explained.
"If I count the people waiting in line, two is the limit. They've waited all the way to the end—I may not be able to serve every last one of them, but even so…"
"…Hm."
"I'd be grateful if you understood."
This was a first for him. And yet the reasoning was sound. If the point of this competition was to put food into as many hands as possible—
He looks after his customers well. Sharp operator.
That owner was thinking of the guests to the very end. Looking after people who might come back after the competition was clearly better business than fussing over a one-time visitor like him.
Smooth. He's got the right attitude.
Convinced the man knew how to run a shop, Jang On-gyu nodded.
"Very well. Two bowls, then."
"Thank you for understanding!"
"Not at all. Fellow businesspeople ought to look out for each other."
"Haha. Thank you."
Thock. Tak.
And so two bowls came out. Taking the quickly prepared dishes, Jang On-gyu and Jang Hansu went looking for seats.
"Hey. What about me?"
"There, there—I'll share mine. All right?"
"Wow. Stingy. It looked so good, too!"
"Should I share President Jang's, then?"
"No way. Where does that leave me?"
"See? So eat mine. Mine?"
"Fine. Just this once!"
Beside them, Lee Saerom pouted about not getting a bowl of her own. No one present could have failed to recognize the performance for what it was—and even that would make a good cut for the show.
Nice atmosphere.
They settled in. He snapped a pair of the prepared wooden chopsticks in half.
"Hey, hey. Jang On-gyu's eating over there."
"Again? Didn't he just eat earlier?"
"This time it's that rice-bowl place."
"Whoa. There?"
"Right? Wonder what Jang On-gyu's going to say this time."
In that brief span, every eye turned toward him, full of expectation. Meeting that expectation was his job.
How should I leave this?
It would be delicious—that much was certain. Delicious, yes, but for a man who had tasted every delicacy under the sun, genuine awe would be hard to come by. Still, he had to leave a review. That was the assignment.
Thinking as much, he lifted a bite to his mouth—
This… I don't even need to deliberate.
…He had no choice but to admit it.
This was the best.
There was nothing else to say.
"So—how was it?"
What remained was the review. Time to do the work.
Now to make it sound impressive…
Nothing I can't handle.
Dishes like this were not hard to judge.
"I would call this four-color harmony."
"Four-color harmony?"
"Yes. Bulgogi and spicy pork. A bed of egg ribbons underneath, and on top of that, cube steak as well. The harmony is excellent."
Here he deliberately left a small opening. Jang Hansu seized it at once.
"That's only three colors, though."
"There's one more."
"One more?"
"Yes. The rice."
"Ahh…!"
Clap—
Jang Hansu struck his hands together. Perfect timing. This was exactly why he kept the man beside him.
"You're right! Four colors! The rice had a color of its own—it didn't fall short at all!"
"Exactly. This was no plain white rice. It was rice steeped in flavor. Just as half of sushi is the rice itself."
"Wow. Even a sushi comparison. That's not something you hear every day!"
He lifted the tempo a beat and fed the crowd's energy—then, here, the twist.
"Hoo… but this isn't a competition dish, is it?"
He brought the book down at once.
A competition dish.
It was a phrase Jang On-gyu, the business genius, liked to use—cooking made for a contest, or for a show. Food that ignored cost and chased taste alone. Was that what this was?
He was not asking out of ignorance. Jang On-gyu's answer was already fixed.
"Not at all."
"Is that so? You usually put a lot of weight on unit cost."
Of course. Exactly right. Even the PD was smiling, pleased. Time to play along.
"If you look carefully, it's all pork."
"That's true."
"And if you look again—it's trimmed and finished so it looks impressive, but… look at the cuts."
"The cuts?"
A real pro. From his eyes he clearly already knew, yet he played the perfect straight man, feeding the lines. As if to say: what I'm saying makes the better cut.
"It's hind leg."
"Hind leg!"
"Yes. You know—using hind leg drops the unit cost right down."
"Hoo… right. Everyone knows hind leg is cheaper than front."
"But look closely."
"At what?"
"This cube steak. Originally, what is cube steak?"
Here Jang Hansu had to speak up as well.
"Even with beef, you take the cheaper cuts, dice them small, and bring out the texture and flavor that way, right?"
"Same principle here. With the spicy pork and the bulgogi, when you chase good texture, you end up with a lot of scraps, don't you?"
"Ah—so then!"
"That's what they used. The trimmings. They simply dressed them as cube steak for color."
"Ohh…!"
"Quite clever, this."
"Wow. Clever! We haven't heard that line in a long time!"
Clever. Among Jang On-gyu's reviews, that was the highest mark of all. And he sealed it with one more solid blow.
"Meaning: the best."
"Wow! Clever and the best! The legendary combo set has arrived!"
"Hahaha."
"Hey! I was the only one who didn't get any! Just me!"
"Now, now, Ms. Saerom, hang in there a little longer. Aren't you curious how this competition is going to turn out?"
"Hmph. Feels like you've already spoiled the whole thing."
"Heh. Even so, we ought to see it through to the end, don't you think?"
"President Jang saying we have to watch, and Lee Saerom sulking! Perfect! Let's see the results!!"
The show's grand finale came together in no time.
"Cut!"
At that instant, as if he had been waiting for exactly this, PD Lee called the cut—
Dong— dong—
And as if on cue, the monk struck the bell.
The bell that marked the end of the competition.
And the results came just as quickly.