The Wizard's Kimchi Kitchen
Today, I’m the chef? (2)
Ah, so the recipe really was the problem after all. When he tasted the seasoning, that all-too-familiar, nostalgic flavor was missing!
‘I knew it—my own palate was more reliable than whatever the TV chefs were saying!’
Patrick stood before the perfectly normal kimchi seasoning the villagers had helped him finish, firmly convinced that his earlier disaster had been entirely the fault of those scheming broadcast chefs.
“Leave the rest to me!”
Now it was time to mix everything together. He had already thought of the perfect method for this moment. Patrick scooped generous dollops of seasoning onto the neatly cubed and salted radish with a large ladle, then suddenly began chanting a spell.
“As gently as possible…… Dig!”
The earth-digging spell activated without warning.
‘Who has time to mix this by hand? If you know magic, you might as well use it.’
In the modern world, plastic basins and rubber gloves were essential for kimchi-making. Unfortunately, neither existed here. That was why so many wooden barrels had appeared. At least the barrels could be washed, dried, and reused for the next batch. But if the seasoning got all over his hands, he would be walking around with bright red fingers for days.
‘A civilized person can’t have that.’
Never mind how it looked—his hands would keep smelling. That simply wouldn’t do.
Swish, swish.
“Whoa!”
“Look at that. How strange.”
“I thought it was only for pulling weeds and turning soil, but it seems useful for all sorts of things. Don’t you think so?”
The villagers watching the seasoning and radish mix themselves let out pure exclamations of wonder. The Village Chief, in particular, was already thinking he should ask the teacher for help again soon.
‘If it works like this, maybe I can ask him when we make salted fish next time?’
Every autumn they caught plenty of anchovies and made salted fish to last each household through the winter. The fishing cooperative usually set a date and handled the work. The most exhausting part was salting and mixing the fish evenly!
‘Everyone avoids it because the fishy smell clings to your whole body. Maybe I can get some help after all. Hohoho! This is……’
Mages were expensive by nature, so there was no reason to hire one for something a few commoners could manage. But Patrick’s sense of identity as a mage was paper-thin, and he was hardly the type to spout third-rate villain lines like “How dare you summon me for such a task?”
Better to just go with the flow. Besides, when people looked at his magic with awe and curiosity, his inner show-off tendencies bubbled up, so he actually welcomed the attention.
“I’ll finish it up, so just wait a moment, haha! Dig!”
As expected, the moment Patrick realized everyone’s eyes were on him, he straightened his shoulders and grew excited. The most basic rule of spellcasting was to maintain composure, but since he could never manage that, his growth had stalled.
Thud, thud!
Crunch, crack, crunch-crunch!
“Teacher, Teacher!”
“I—I know too!”
“Kyaaah!”
Caught up in the excitement, he unconsciously increased the spell’s power. Pieces of radish coated in seasoning began flying out of the wooden barrel. The seasoning itself exploded outward like fireworks.
“Waaah! My clothes!”
Elina, who had been standing too close out of curiosity, stared in dismay at the bright red splatters on her white dress.
Thud—
He canceled the spell in a hurry, but the damage was already done.
“……I’m sorry.”
Patrick had no excuse left, even if he had ten mouths.
Thanks to Ben’s quick intervention, a total catastrophe was narrowly avoided, and eighty percent of the cubed radish survived.
“I’ll help you, Teacher!”
“No, I can manage this on my own. Don’t worry, haha!”
Even the worst cook usually had one signature dish they could make with confidence. For Patrick, that dish was kalguksu.
‘I could probably open a restaurant with this.’
The broth was finished simply by boiling the clams the villagers had generously shared, but it was still more than enough to treat the people who had helped him.
A large pot appeared in the courtyard of the Village Hall, filled to the brim with clams.
“I have some shrimp too.”
“Perfect!”
“Would crab be all right? I caught a few in the traps and brought them to share at the Village Hall.”
“Thank you, sir!”
One of the best things about a fishing village was the abundance of fresh seafood. All sorts of ingredients that would deepen the broth kept appearing.
“Noodles going in!”
He dropped in the hand-cut noodles—more accurately, noodles whose thickness varied wildly—into the pot.
‘They’re handmade, so of course the thickness isn’t uniform.’
That was the charm of homemade noodles, wasn’t it? He had simply failed at cutting evenly, but excuses always existed when you needed them.
Crunch!
“Oh dear, this is spicy, but I keep reaching for more.”
“I think the cucumber one is better. It’s so refreshing.”
“Let me have a taste too, if I may?”
“Of course, Village Chief. It’s quite spicy, so start with a small bite.”
The meal prep had somehow turned into a village feast. Several residents scooped the freshly made cubed radish kimchi and cucumber kimchi onto small plates and tasted them with delight.
“People from the capital like spicy food? Mm! There really is something addictive about it.”
At first, Patrick had not been sure whether the villagers would enjoy it.
‘Food really does depend on its background.’
Thanks to the expensive imported chili powder that was supposedly popular in the capital, the villagers’ reactions were quite favorable.
Why did memories of K-food from his previous life suddenly surface?
‘Back when I was young, everyone said foreigners would never like tteokbokki.’
The spiciness was one issue, and the chewy texture of rice cakes was considered too difficult for foreigners—Westerners in particular—to accept. There had even been documentaries about it. But once the Korean Wave swept through and interest in Korean culture rose, tteokbokki became a craze in countless countries, and the “terrible texture” of rice cakes was reevaluated as “fun and interesting.”
He had laughed bitterly at the sight. In the end, even “taste” changed depending on the label attached to it, leaving him with a slightly bitter feeling. Still……
‘Well, thank you for that.’
Watching the villagers approach the spicy flavor with curiosity rather than rejection, Patrick smiled contentedly at the thought of sharing his hometown food with them.
Bubble, bubble—
“Mm, this is good.”
He often made kalguksu alone at home, but dishes like this always tasted deeper when made in large quantities. Just look at this— the broth was rich and flavorful.
“Let’s eat!”
“To think I’d get to eat a meal cooked by a mage. I’ve lived long enough to see everything!”
Even villagers who had no direct connection to Patrick accepted their bowls with cheerful faces.
“You have to let it cool first!”
“It’s really hot!”
“You slurp the broth like this—fwoooosh!”
Ben and the other children were showing off to the adults, acting like experienced eaters.
“Teacher, Teacher! Look at this. I know how to eat it!”
Crunch!
“Oh? Not spicy? You’re okay?”
Tommy had come over on purpose to show he could eat the heavily seasoned cubed radish kimchi, stuffing three pieces into his mouth in a row. Watching him, Ben’s cheeks puffed out in a pout.
“I can eat it too!”
“Liar. You said it was too spicy earlier.”
“Kekeke. Did I? Oh no, is it spicy? Want me to rinse it in water for you?”
Patrick even mimicked a childish lisp to tease him.
‘Payback for the dad joke, you little brat.’
Teasing kids about their spice tolerance always hit the spot.
“No, it’s not spicy at all!”
Even the usually mature Ben could not let this slide. He picked up a piece of cubed radish kimchi with a defiant look. Yet even then, he chose the smallest piece on the plate and hesitated before putting it in his mouth. It really was difficult for him.
Nom.
“……?”
Just as Ben squeezed his eyes shut and tried to swallow the kimchi in front of his friends, the small piece of radish on his fork disappeared into someone else’s mouth.
“That’s mine. And this is adult food. Kids, go play over there—shoo!”
It was Patrick.
“But Tommy ate it just fine, Teacher.”
“He must have an adult palate. Still, your tongues are sensitive, so you shouldn’t eat anything too stimulating. If you really want some, have it once in a while. Just once in a while.”
With a deliberately indifferent expression, the teacher waved his hand and said, “Go play over there.” Ben stood still for a moment, then suddenly dashed off somewhere.
‘Was he embarrassed? Well, he’s a sharp kid.’
Patrick had tried not to make it obvious he was helping, but the little rascal had seen right through him anyway.
“Kuh— This is great!”
Whether Ben was embarrassed or not, hot broth paired with crunchy cubed radish kimchi and cucumber kimchi made Patrick feel like three years of indigestion had finally cleared.
‘I need to plant cabbage soon. I can’t put it off.’
The cabbages in this area were quite small. He had no idea how many heads he would need to plant to make enough kimchi to last the winter, but it was always better to have leftovers than to run short.
‘Better too much than too little, right?’
Because he was bad at work but generous with his hands, Patrick fell into thought about how much seed to order.
Tap, tap—
“……You startled me.”
Ben, whom he thought had run off in embarrassment, had returned and was now holding out a small bottle.
“……Thank you earlier.”
“What? Who are you? The Ben I know isn’t this polite.”
“Give it back!”
“Kekeke. What is this?”
Ben was mumbling his thanks, clearly embarrassed about not being able to eat spicy food in front of his friends.
“My dad bought this in Eltron City himself. He usually saves it to eat alone, but I brought a few pills.”
“You rascal. You only learned the bad habits.”
“Dad shares with his friends too!”
“……Really? Is it like a nutritional supplement?”
“He said it’s good when you’re tired.”
“Oh?”
Perfect for delicate mages like him who were exhausted from fieldwork. Patrick slipped the bottle into his pocket, thinking of his stiff body after nearly scolding the boy.
“One pill a day.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
Ben bowed and ran back to the sandbox where his friends were playing. His round little head looked especially cute today.
After sharing with the villagers, there was less cubed radish kimchi and cucumber kimchi left than expected.
‘When Oren comes, I need to ask him to get some rice quickly.’
He lay down on the bed, thinking he would have to pay extra if needed, as long as Oren could bring it soon. He had done a lot since morning, so he expected to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Instead……
“……”
This was bad.
He could not sleep at all.
The chronic illness of modern people—insomnia—had struck again.