Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Advertisement (1)
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"Is this a dream?"
"Want me to pinch you?"
"Yeah."
I grabbed my sister's cheek and pulled. It stretched out like taffy. She'd put on some weight lately from all the delicious food I'd been feeding her, and it looked great on her.
"Suck... nope, not a dream."
"Told you. I said it'd work."
My sister and I were staring at the same screen.
Sky and Kite - Subscribers: 40,000
The graph in the account management tab shot straight up in a vertical climb. The slope was insanely steep.
On the first day we uploaded, views and subscribers were low. But at some point, they started creeping up, and after appearing on Park Su-han's broadcast, they skyrocketed for real.
"Broadcast exposure definitely packs a punch."
"Yeah. And Starlight seems to be helping a ton too."
The views and subscriber graphs had two massive spikes.
The first came after Park Su-han's show. The second hit when our Starlight post went mega-viral.
Even now, Starlight was flooded with DMs saying it looked delicious, plus comments and likes. Oga-eul Master had even liked it, and we'd gotten a DM from Oju Foods.
"What do you think?"
I stared straight at my sister. She tilted her head, wondering why I was looking at her.
"You made the recipe. Why ask me?"
"What's your take? If we play it right, this could be great marketing. How should we reply?"
"From a promo angle, we'd be smart to share it. Just add the channel name under the recipe. But you sure? Recipes are a big deal for chefs."
She had a point. To a chef, a recipe is like music to a composer. Even popular restaurant recipes sell for tens of millions of won.
Anyone who follows the recipe exactly—even if they've never cooked—can replicate the dish perfectly, which directly impacts revenue.
Famous recipes on Nutube are never complete either. Key ingredients are omitted, ratios tweaked, or better versions substituted.
But we're not running a restaurant right now.
"It's fine. Not some super-secret recipe—just something I whipped up on the spot."
"Alright, I'll reply then."
"Cool."
While she typed the response, I grabbed the pad and lay down on her soft belly, flipping through the notepad app. It was full of ideas for upcoming content.
-Recently trending menu: Dongpo Pork
-Making sister's favorites, Part 1
-Cooking with autumn specialties
Those were the big three.
Sister suggested the first and third. I came up with the second. We needed to pick one to shoot today.
She finished replying and flopped down beside me.
"How about the first or third? First one's probably best."
"Nah. I wanna do the second. I've already got the menu all planned out."
I knew all her favorites inside out—from the ones she always mentioned to the ones she begged me to make. My mental list had over a hundred.
After getting sick and bedridden, I'd focused on recalling the dishes she'd craved in her mid-twenties.
I'd shared some of those with her.
"Starting with steaming hot, fluffy white rice..."
I described it so vividly she swallowed hard.
"Still no. It'll mess up the channel's identity. Save it for later when we have more videos stacked up."
"Fine. Dongpo Pork today, then autumn ingredients next."
There were plenty of her favorites that could pass as autumn dishes. No one would suspect a thing.
"Your face looks suspicious."
"What's wrong with my face?"
"Super shady. Like movie villains plotting."
Suddenly, she wrapped her legs around my waist and started tickling my sides. But I wasn't falling for it.
Twenty-plus years living together? I knew her moves.
The second I spotted that telltale prank face, I bolted up and headed for the fridge.
I checked the ingredients for Dongpo Pork.
Basics were all there. But freshness-critical stuff like pork belly? Not yet.
"Dongpo Pork it is. I'll grab some pork belly."
"I'll prep the shoot. Take your time."
I escaped the tickle hell unscathed and hit the nearby butcher shop. Since regressing, I'd tried a bunch while treating sister to meat, and this place was tops.
Door opened to a burly owner hacking away at meat like a beast.
True to Kanghan Butcher Shop, he looked plenty tough.
"Hey, boss. 600g pork belly, please."
"Oh, Haneul! What's on the menu today?"
He chatted while slicing with his massive cleaver. Regular visits had made us friendly.
"Dongpo Pork."
"That trending Chinese dish?"
"Yep. Riding the hype for views. Figured I'd give it a go."
"Video tomorrow then? Loved the last one. Can't wait."
He bagged a big hunk plus a small extra. Weighed 800g.
"Service. Take it."
"That's too much."
"No choice. To sell fresh, gotta use same-day slaughter. You know business sucks here."
He looked bitter.
Kanghan Butcher Shop wasn't thriving. Great meat, fresh only—but bad location.
Even I, using maps, got lost multiple times in those deep alleys.
"Sigh. Chuseok's soon, stocked extra, but no crowd. Just take it. Otherwise, trash."
I hesitated, then pulled out my card.
"Ring up 200g regular. But call if you get prime cuts next time?"
He paused mid-swipe on the 600g price, thought it over, erased, added to 800g.
"See you next time. Oh, subscribed, right?"
"Duh. Check it."
He pulled up Nutube, showed his subs. Amid kids' channels sat Sky and Kite.
I headed home with the heavier-than-usual meat slab.
"Start."
Sister clapped, and recording began.
"Hi, everyone. Kim Haneul here from Sky and Kite. Today's dish is Dongpo Pork, the hot trending topic right now."
A Netflix cooking show premiered a month ago and blew up. Last week's episode featured Dongpo Pork, sparking the craze.
Before diving in, I explained its history.
Knowing a dish's origins makes it taste better than just cooking blindly.
Food isn't mere flavor—it's a story.
"Let's make this Song Dynasty classic. First, prep fresh pork belly."
I pulled the hefty slab from the bag.
"Same-day delivery's great for good meat anytime, but if you cook meat often, befriend a butcher. I use Kanghan Butcher—they've got quality stuff. How to find a good one..."
Dropped some handy tips.
Then the real cooking kicked off.
Dongpo Pork's secret: super tender meat braised in rich spiced sauce. Tenderness takes work.
First: blanching.
Wipe the belly clean, boil to remove impurities and off-flavors, then cube into bite-sizes.
Second: sear.
Hot pan, light oil, brown all sides of the cubes.
"Anyone can do this much. The real key starts now. Sauce makes or breaks Dongpo Pork."
Layered scallions, sliced ginger, garlic; topped with belly. Added water, soy, Shaoxing wine, sugar, dark soy, bay leaf, star anise.
"No Shaoxing? Rice wine works. Shaoxing gives bolder flavor and color, but honestly, who keeps it stocked?"
Lid on, simmer. Flip occasionally for even soak, taste and adjust soy.
"Cook times vary by size and state, but easiest check: chopstick test."
I poked it. Normal meat resists or sticks. This slid in like into jelly.
"Want it softer? Steam 20 more minutes. Veggie fans, pair with Shanghai greens—way better. Editor loves 'em, so extra for her."
Blanched a bunch of greens.
Dish complete.
Glossy fat jiggled like pudding at a poke, spicy aroma wafting strong.
"Perfect Dongpo Pork looks like this."
Spoon-tap: whole piece quivered. Looked melt-ready, but held form.
"Not too mushy, not tough. Pudding-soft with structure."
Rice base, greens, topped with chopstick-sliced pork. Steam rose fluffy; juices dripped down.
Mmm.
Chewy skin, melting fat, tender fibers shredding easy. Fat's nuttiness coated the tongue, spices blooming subtle. Every chew burst juice.
"Delicious. Editor, come try."
Sister mouthed it.
I just offered the plate. She resisted but caved to my stubbornness and took a bite.
Eyes widened at the texture. Froze like struck by lightning.
"How is it?"
-S-so good. It just melts?
"Melts in your mouth, folks. Give it a try sometime. Fiddly, but simple. That's the video. Next: autumn seasonal ingredients. Comment requests! Thanks."
Shoot and edit done—second video up.
I snuck to the bathroom without sister knowing, used another account to comment.
-For autumn seasonal cooking...
Slipped in her faves, subtle as possible.
I had no clue then.
Forgot to log out—every like on my comments pinged sister's laptop.