Spinach Namul and the Unprecedented Seasoning Boom
"...Isn't this a bit much?"
The artificial seasoning had only been known for a fortnight. The boom had only been going for three days. Yet the entire multiverse was swept up in a seasoning frenzy no one saw coming!
I'd expected it to catch on, but not like this. Not to this insane degree.
"Who'd have thought a single shoutout from a famous influencer would spark all this."
Apocalypse dimensions—worlds set after the end times. They sprang up like weeds after the first apocalypse vlogger, Primitive Apocalypse, copying existing dimensions, pasting in some dangers, and turning it all into variety entertainment.
The original vlogger revealed survival tech from primitive times to modern day without any system windows or sponsorships. But lately, apocalypse worlds lean hard into system windows, shops, and convenient plot twists for that extra kick.
The influencer who kickstarted this artificial seasoning craze out of nowhere? One of those apocalypse vloggers, with a whopping 8 million constellation subscribers...
Yeah, at 8 million, you get that kind of ripple effect. Hard to believe we're the same species.
"Well, that's the kind of talent that makes you a success."
Could I pull that off? I mull it over. Nah, no chance. A quiet guy like me with no silver tongue? Who'd watch? TV has those stern senior roles sometimes, but they thrive on banter with others. Shame, but my banter game's weak.
Enviable, sure. But not my path.
"Still, this is overkill."
I'm thinking that as I eat my gukbap, but the flavor's way too intense. Tried it 'cause it's the trendy artificial seasoning version—fine for a couple bites, but it gets cloying fast.
I scrape the bottom of the stone bowl with my spoon. A pile of undissolved powder. I nudge the waterlogged clumps, and dry powder cascades out.
...Way too much. More seasoning than broth at this point.
Guess it's unavoidable. Like I said, we're in peak artificial seasoning mania. It's in bungeoppang, grilled meats as seasoning, kimchi, banchan, soups, fried stuff—everywhere you turn, artificial seasoning overload.
Scariest part? The trend's only on day three. Even fast-fading fads last a month minimum. So a whole month of this seasoning sludge?
"Makes me wanna say, 'What have I done?'"
But from salaryman Lee Hansoo's perspective, this is great news. Nothing beats seeing a hard-found item fly off the shelves. Especially if it's leading the biggest hit, the biggest trend ever. Shoulders can't help but puff up.
"Even so, I never wanna eat this again. Good once, tough twice..."
Seasoning gukbap—can't finish it. First time in ages I've left food behind. Mouth feels numb.
They say in hell, they mix all the food you ever wasted. By that logic, my hell grub'd be tasty as hell. With this much seasoning, anything'd taste good.
...Day ten of the artificial seasoning boom.
"...I want real food."
The hype's still raging. Should be cooling off by now, but it climbs higher every day. Fires burn out once fuel's gone—why won't this die?
"Probably 'cause it's cheap, tasty, and easy, right?"
"Cheap, tasty, easy..."
"Up till now, seasonings took forever to make."
...Makes sense. Traditional seasonings? Insanely complex. For beef umami powder: buy tons of beef, extract juices, boil with green onions, onions, garlic, soy sauce, dry it, grind it.
At home, sure, grab store-bought natural stuff. But restaurants usually make their own from scratch.
Enter artificial seasoning: buy, sprinkle. Done! Hours to hundreds shaved off, and better taste? Restaurants love it—no brainer.
...Or so says System Industry's analysis.
"Still overdone, though. Blame the non-organic humans?"
"Non-organic humans?"
"You've been hooked on it too, sir. Last time, two whole jars on a sandwich?"
"Two jars...?"
And the kicker no one saw coming: these extracted, concentrated flavors work on golems and androids too. Not "artificial taste," but the "artificial" vibe clicks for them.
Total blind spot. Revolutionary for non-organics too. Universal appeal—no bias, works on everyone, organic or not.
"Who knew a backwater dimension airport had ingredients like this. Dimensions are vast, ingredients endless..."
"Yep. Finding 'em—that's our job."
"Someday I wanna discover amazing stuff like you, Section Chief!"
"Just hope it doesn't fizzle out."
Popularity's great, but this heat's too much. I want steady sellers, not flash-in-the-pan stars. Scarier if it dies quick and buries this gem.
Here's hoping the love lasts.
...Minus the excess, anyway.
...One month later.
"Today we're making artificial seasoning namul! Prep a glass jar, spinach, salt mixed with artificial seasoning, pepper mixed with artificial seasoning. Fill the jar halfway with spinach, then layer on salt-seasoning mix, pepper-seasoning mix, and a 1:1:5 blend of those with straight artificial seasoning—"
"...This is insane."
Superstar? Check. Steady seller? Double check.
One month in, and the boom's fiercer. Thought it'd fade—nope.
Internet's flooded with artificial seasoning challenges. This video? One of 'em.
Craved spinach namul after ages, searched—nothing but seasoning-pickled spinach. Recipes? Same story.
Mouth's gummy from overuse. Need something natural...
More searches: hundreds of pages, all seasoning brines. Billions of recipes from billions of dimensions—finding non-seasoning namul's like a needle in a haystack desert.
...No choice. Time for the nuclear option.
"Haven't called like this in forever..."
I dial. The one person who can save me now—last hope.
"Oh, Mom. Long time. You good? Haha, no, not for allowance..."
Mom. Calling her for the spinach namul recipe from my childhood.
...Simpler than expected. Embarrassing I didn't think of it sooner.
I jot her recipe on a notepad.
Mom's Recipe. Blanch spinach in light salt water, one spoon soy sauce, one spoon sesame oil, one spoon minced garlic. Toss together. Done. Sprinkle sesame seeds for looks.
"Huh? Text... Oh."
Finish making it—a text pops up.
Mom, dropping pro tips casually. I'm grown, but still a kid next to her wisdom.
"Tuna liquid... plum syrup... No dice here."
Single guy—how often do I stock that? Settle for this namul.
Take a bite. Gloved from mixing, roll spinach tight, pop it in—