A Taste That Never Goes Out of Style
"...These days, trends come and go."
Slime chewy cookies, half price. Buy three, get one free. Just a few months ago, they were selling out as fast as they could be made, but now the dessert's fallen into obscurity.
"I heard they took a bigger loss than expected."
Our company jumped on the bandwagon too, rushing out its own slime chewy cookies to cash in on the hype. But they were pricey with a cheap taste, or so the reviews said. Once the trend died, they had to overhaul the entire factory line—pure loss. Honestly, I had no idea. Our department's atmosphere is surprisingly upbeat, so I never picked up on it. With all the project hopping around, I haven't had time to gauge the mood.
"Maybe grab some on the way... Not bad, anyway."
Slime chewy cookies aren't terrible. Trendy enough? Sure, I'd nod. Worth the full price? Eh, tilt my head. The kind you buy once out of curiosity, or eat without complaint if someone treats you.
I stock up on a mountain of the piled-high slime chewy cookies and head back, passing the trendy Nialu octopus holoang joint and the anchovy ice cream shop that went bust around last year.
…
The moment I get to the office, I hand out slime chewy cookies to the staff, one each.
"What's this? Slime chewy cookies?"
"The dessert that was all the rage a while back. They were on discount, so I grabbed some."
"Thanks, I'll dig in... Oh. Tasty. How much were they?"
"Dunno. Bought in bulk, but originally around this much."
"Huh. Pretty good, actually? I should pick some up next time I see 'em."
More than half ask what it is. Not everyone follows trends, especially at System Industry. We're too busy with our own work to notice fads. Especially now—most folks chase what they like over what's hot. Trend over? If it suits my taste, it's trendy for life.
"Surprising, though. I figured you had refined tastes, Section Chief."
"...What're you talking about?"
"You're the icon of strict, solemn, serious. Plenty of people are charmed by your charisma."
"Really?"
Good thing I brought snacks. Truth is, I know full well I'm introverted. I eat alone quietly rather than chatting in groups, work solo instead of teaming up... Of course, when needed, I eat with others, chat, form teams. Salaryman life. Company work is all tough stuff you can't handle alone. So sometimes, you gotta chat idly with colleagues. Stay too aloof, and no one's there when it counts.
Sometimes you need a trivial excuse like this to spark conversation.
"Oh yeah, Section Chief. I'm handling a deal with the Slaner-3 Dimension this time."
"Slaner-3... Ah, the jelly-famous place."
We trade lighthearted banter and advice for a bit.
Ugh... Hope they drop it soon. I'm the section chief, sure, but not a slime or jelly expert.
…
"Phew... Exhausting."
These days, info's a breeze to find. The employee asking about Slaner-3 Dimension suddenly pulls up slime research papers, related articles, slime benefits, recipes—I thought I'd keel over. Lucky I hadn't eaten lunch yet. If I had, I'd be stuck for hours more.
"Anyway, no clue what to eat..."
Great that I left for lunch, but nothing appeals. Decent spots are packed. Hotspots have lines snaking double- and triple-fold down alleys. Quieter places all have some flaw.
Getting tired. Somewhere decent for a meal...
Ah.
"...Unexpectedly, that could work."
Cafe Charbone, from last time. They had meals too. Pork cutlet was solid. Other stuff probably fine?
"Damn."
…
Failure. Another flop. Cafe Charbone's got a huge line waiting too. End of lunch rush, and still? Makes sense—better than expected. Crowds check out.
"Now what... Ah."
Right then, a shop catches my eye. The fast, simple meal kind you see everywhere.
"Gukbap, huh."
Bean sprout gukbap specialist... Peek inside. Pretty full. Mostly office workers on lunch, a few daytime drinkers. Bean sprouts as anju with distilled liquor? Or hangover soup? A couple like that. One winces but spoons away; the other clutches his head, slumped over the table groaning. Spoon shaking—real bender. Still scoops broth, shudders with a guttural urgh—must taste great...
"Alright. This it is."
One seat open. Lucky. Head in.
Sit, and the staffer plops down the menu and wet towel, gruff. Busy? Nah, does it to other tables too— just surly.
"One bean sprout gukbap, please."
Grabs menu post-order, heads to kitchen. No relay... Ah. Ant-person. Humanoid enough I missed it, but antennae poke from under the headscarf. Human-like face, but no vocal cords—ants communicate via chemical pheromones from antennae.
Makes sense for the taciturn vibe. Maybe warm inside.
Wait a sec, and bean sprout gukbap arrives lightning-fast. Faster than a burger joint's single patty.
"Mm."
Soup's bean sprouts, broth, chopped chili bits. Done. Boiling broth looking this refreshingly clear? Tough feat.
Side: raw egg in steel rice bowl, one sheet roasted seaweed. Egg's edge whitened from hot bowl contact. Freaked me out first time seeing raw egg.
Skilled now: Drag bowl to me, ladle boiling broth over egg to half-cook. Crumble seaweed atop. Personally, add more broth here—too much seaweed gets cloying. Stir with chopsticks, slurp in one go. Cool bean sprout broth, nutty salty seaweed, egg richness—nice treat. Texture's soft-mushy, seaweed sticks everywhere—love it or hate it. I prefer this; or pour egg into soup for egg-drop style.
"Good. Let's eat."
Personally love shrimp paste for most gukbap—pig or sundae—but bean sprout? Salt. Once added shrimp to fishy sprouts, nearly puked from the reek. Bean sprouts seem safe, but mishandle and they plummet—watery, beany, grassy smells; chewy roots not crunch...
Like slight crunch here. This passes.
Hot yet refreshing. Salt-balanced broth zings—salty-cool perfection. The kind that pulls an involuntary urgh from your gut.
"Mm."
Savor the pure taste a bit, then rice time. Soak rice, sprouts, seaweed sheet in broth. Spoon up together—fresh flavor twist.
Solid. No wonder the crowd.
Repeat routine, scoop last bite.
Thanks, delicious.
"But something's missing. Clears the gut, sure, but..."
Leave satisfied, yet empty. Bean sprout gukbap's great. But even top-notch, sometimes feels 2% short.
"Might as well grab extra snacks."
Maybe just not full enough. Snacks while walking, unlike meals. Spotted some good spots on the way...