Spicy Pork Stir-Fry and Doenjang Stew
"Not bad. But this is rejected."
"Pardon? Why is that?"
The lava shark has plenty of commercial potential. Unless its popularity suddenly explodes and prices skyrocket, at this supply price, it should be plenty competitive—
"Heavy metals."
"...Ah."
"The Vulcanian system is full of heavy metals. It could be dangerous for ordinary humans to eat."
...I hadn't thought of that.
The Vulcanian system is made up of planets boiling with metallic lava. A lava shark swimming and living in that environment would surely carry a risk of heavy metal contamination.
"The Vulcanian candy that's blatantly made of metal would be far better. At least you can sell that openly to non-living customers."
The Marble Golem Manager sets the report down with a disinterested thud.
Of course. I got so caught up in the taste that I overlooked the most crucial issue.
"That said, the commercial viability and... the taste look pretty solid. If we solve the heavy metals problem, it could sell somehow."
"So that means..."
"Yes. Bring whatever papers or ongoing research you have. If it's solved, we sell it. If not, we'll... find another avenue."
The manager sees the potential in this ingredient too. Thank goodness. It's not completely scrapped.
"Section Chief? Something good happen?"
"Eh, just got told to rework it, that's all."
"Pardon? Then why the smile...?"
It's because the expectations for this new ingredient are that high. It might even spark a real boom.
...That evening.
"Yes. Yes. I'll check a couple more places while I'm out. Yes. Of course."
Near the university district. I visit a few labs and research rooms.
A handful of professors at the university are studying lava sharks. Fortunately, two of them are researching edible lava sharks—nutritional components, aquaculture methods, and so on.
I track down a couple of papers that way, but for more convincing sales material, I need one or two more.
"Still, it's fascinating. Swimming through boiling heavy metal lava, yet no heavy metals detected at all."
The lava shark navigates through heavy metals, but surprisingly, its thick, rough skin acts as a filter, screening them out. When you test just the flesh and bones without the skin, the heavy metal levels are on par with regular pork or beef. Safe to eat as-is.
"Might want to consider selling the skin separately as a heavy metal filter. Unexpected bonus."
Thanks to the papers, I've got a new product idea. Selling lava shark skin as a filter...!
After checking a few more labs, I figure a pretty solid report could be ready by tomorrow or the day after...
"Ah."
Gurgle— My stomach growls.
I snap out of it to find the sky already dark. The bright lights of the university district masked it, but it's already 7:30 p.m. Way past dinnertime...
"Well, bound to be something edible around."
The bustling streets near campus are packed with bars. Quality varies, but cheap prices draw crowds of cash-strapped students.
"Bars everywhere I look."
Bar, bar, all-you-can-eat meat, bar, billiards hall, cafe... Sheesh. Nothing but bars.
Not that bars are bad, but I'm hungry right now. I'd rather fill up at a proper restaurant than a bar.
Bar snacks tempt when you're tired, but when you're starving, they feel skimpy and overkill.
"Hmm... Too late, maybe."
I poke around and find a few restaurants, but they're disappointingly closed. Only 8 p.m., and already shuttered...
Thing is, around here, they close surprisingly early. Most students eat at home after classes, or they've already eaten, or they hit the dorm cafeteria. Or they hit the bars like this and drink themselves silly.
In that sense, campus restaurants closing early is inevitable. Not every place shuts down early, though. Plenty still lit up, waiting for late-night customers to squeeze out one more pt.
"This one, maybe."
A bit off the main drag but close to campus. Plenty of lit-up spots, but this one's calling to me.
Faded, cracked sign sticker. The window lists prices: Spicy Pork Stir-Fry ③⑤ pt, Dongkatsu ④ⓞ pt.
Dongkatsu, not tonkatsu. A real veteran holding down the fort. Probably even cheaper back in the day. The sticker's thickness bulging over the glass tells the history of campus inflation, doesn't it?
Anywhere else, it might look shabby and turn you off, but this is university turf. Places like this are often cheap and delicious. Surviving this long means generations of students have vouched for the taste.
"Excuse me... Oh. Closed already?"
"No, come on in."
Shoot. My mistake?
Inside, two ladies are prepping garlic and green onions. Getting tomorrow's ingredients ready, maybe.
Looking closer, no customers. Chairs neatly stacked on tables—looks like they've closed up.
...Or so I thought, but no "full house" sign.
"What'll it be?"
"Can I order? I mean..."
"Sure. Just prepping since it's slow. We close at 10 normally."
"R-Really?"
"Yep! Says so on the door—until 10 p.m.!"
"Ah."
Of course. Plenty of time left. But eating while they've already tidied up feels awkward...
...Or so I thought, but anywhere else would be the same. Might as well eat light here.
"What'll you have?"
"Then... spicy pork stir-fry and doenjang stew, please."
"Doenjang stew? Nah, cancel that."
"Pardon? No stock?"
"No—if you order pork stir-fry, it's free service. Small portion, no need to order extra."
"Ah, got it. Then that, please."
...I see. Order a main, get a mini doenjang stew on the house.
Come to think of it, that's how it was in my student days too. Not ancient history, but far enough I'd forgotten.
A short wait, and a spicy aroma wafts from the kitchen. More onion and sauce than meat. Weird for pork stir-fry—no meaty scent. Kinda worrying.
"Enjoy."
"...Thank you."
...Or so I thought, but once again, my worries were delightfully crushed.
A plate of spicy pork stir-fry topped with fried egg, hearty doenjang stew loaded with bits, and six side dishes. Student spot through and through—portions are no joke.
"Rice refills free, don't worry! If you don't eat it, we toss the leftovers!"
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
Whew. Familiar yet not—this meal hits different. More generous and abundant than expected.
Basics: stir-fried dried shredded meat, braised black beans, potato-corn salad, soybean sprouts, stir-fried fish cake, kimchi. Cheap staples that whet the appetite.
Some love 'em, some hate 'em—but fans devour them. Each could stand alone as a main, polishing off a bowl of rice in no time.
But the star, the spicy pork stir-fry, holds its own. A mountain of meat and onions piled in an oval dish, wrapped with a couple lettuce leaves and shiso. Glossy red onions and dripping meat—pure temptation.
Beside it, a bubbling mini doenjang stew in a palm-sized pot. Surprisingly chunky: tofu, zucchini... onions? Chopped peppers too, spicy and nutty aroma rising.
Looks hearty enough for a full meal already.
"Now..."
Where to start? Everything's screaming eat me first—hallucinations, auditory ones too. Decision paralysis incoming.
Okay. Broth first, one sip...
"Kuh."
Rich, hearty doenjang flavor. Mostly just zucchini and tofu, but why so good? Salty, sticky, hot. Yet one bite surges energy!
Not refreshing fatigue—squeezes every ounce of strength and amps it up. Mouth feels a tad sticky. Kimchi next? No, dried shreds? Wait, no.
Main time. Chopsticks to the pork stir-fry.
Onion and meat snag together. Shiny. The meat's shiny. One bite.
Sweet. Not subtle onion sweetness—pure sugar bomb.
Of course. That sheen was sugar-coated.
But heavy sugar doesn't make it cloyingly sweet. The stickiness lets the spicy sauce linger, ramping the heat.
Onion sweetness clears the spice, faint meat follows, then sticky sugar sauce layers on... Taste strata.
A history book of flavors stacked high!
Cheap ingredients, though—might tire quick.
...Yeah. Here's where good spots shine over duds.
Sides. Mains are standardized everywhere. Sides make the difference.
To cut the sugar: kimchi first? Or fish cake? Soy-marinated sprouts ain't bad. Dried shreds... later. Wrong timing.
Alright. Let's try this one first.