Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Relay Cooking Race (2)
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I thought we had half the win in the bag when Park Su-han drew fish and rice.
Rice is a cinch—just pop it in an electric cooker or use instant packs. And with the fish simply grilled ahead of time, I could transform it into something else entirely.
I'd already mapped it all out in my head: how to rebirth the fish into a new dish, what dessert would work best, everything.
But those plans crumbled the instant cooking began.
"Hint! Hint! Host, give us a hint!"
"What do you mean we have to cook the rice in a stovetop pressure cooker? Why?!"
Over half the restaurants out there use electric rice cookers. Naturally, we assumed the same. Sure enough, every other team's kitchen had one set up.
"...Damn it. Should've caught on when they said 'rice.'"
It wasn't hard to figure out if you'd thought it through. Rice is such a basic staple that if it was a required ingredient like this, it had to be a differentiator from the other teams.
This wasn't Park Su-han's fault. Strictly speaking, it was mine.
Not knowing the method, Park Su-han floundered and set it to low heat. At that point, the rice was done for.
Stovetop pressure cookers need high heat first to build pressure inside, then gradually dialed down. Starting on low means no pressure buildup, so no rice.
I fired up the tablet provided by the organizers. It was for monitoring comments and adjusting reactions accordingly.
I managed my expressions at first. But with the fish burning, the rice turning to mush, and the second fish botched too, I couldn't help wincing.
"Alright! That's enough! Hands off everything! Participants, return to your stations and confer with your partners. I'll go around for mid-check evaluations."
The host grabbed a camera and headed into the kitchens. Park Su-han brushed past him and trudged over to me.
"Sorry. Haah."
He let out a deep sigh of apology, eyes darting away from mine. He felt terrible.
I bore some blame too, so I comforted him lightly.
"The food's messed up, but it's salvageable."
"You can save that? How?"
"We'll figure it out now."
Per the show format, I had to use whatever Park Su-han made, no exceptions.
Not easy. Unevenly cooked fish with a charred exterior, shapeless fish mush, and rice porridge—how to make it work?
As I pondered, the host approached our station.
"Oh Jun-seo's team is looking solid—better than expected. That special training paid off. They're the top contenders so far. Next up, Su-han's team... Hm."
The host eyed our table with a troubled look.
"Mid-check for Su-han's team. The rice is just porridge. Some cores aren't even cooked. The fish... tricky to eat. The cooked parts taste... salty. No burnt flavor is a mercy, but that's it. Looking forward to how Haneul salvages this."
The host didn't sound hopeful. Viewer reactions were mostly 'lololol, go home early, poor host eating that.'
I forcibly straightened Park Su-han's slumping shoulders.
"I think this is actually good. They're pros optimized for this format. A broadcaster who totally wrecks the food, and a chef who saves it. Nail the save, and it's peak drama."
I headed back to the kitchen, signaling full trust.
"Time to switch! Chefs to your team stations, prep your dishes. 40 minutes. Use only your team's ingredients. Ring the bell when done."
Cameras whirred across the set. Lights flashed in sequence, the host's mic booming loudly.
I closed my eyes, focusing.
Shut out external noise, ears closed. Eyes on ingredients, mind replaying recipes, running simulations.
No room for waste if I wanted my planned menu in 40 minutes.
Start——!
Clatter crash.
I bolted to the back table.
It was loaded with communal staples: green onions, onions, ramen, soy sauce, salt, pepper, fruits—a decent variety.
Grab these, salvage the mess.
"Green onions, onions, chili. And..."
I snatched what I needed and returned.
First, scooped all the porridge from the pressure cooker, added fresh water and rice.
Rice is simple if you know how. Cranked to high to build pressure.
Rice as the theme? Perfect Korean rice is essential for local palates.
"That'll do. Now, salvage this porridge. Lucky it's still holding form."
Thick white porridge texture.
I strained it through a sieve. Too glutinous to drain easy, so pressed with a spatula. Sticky starch water dripped below; soft rice grains remained above.
First glance at the porridge, I considered keeping it—easiest as baby food porridge.
But with white rice as staple, porridge lacked synergy.
Instead, separated into components, deconstructing back to basics.
Bubble bubble.
Dumped in chicken stock, dissolved the starch water to adjust thickness. Chinese egg drop soup's key is that velvety texture.
Korean egg soup is broth; Chinese-style is thick soup. Usually starch-thickened, but the porridge water works the same.
Hit right consistency, seasoned with soy, salt, pepper, added eggs.
As eggs softly set, finished with chopped chives and sesame oil.
Soup done.
Next, main dish.
Checked fish flesh and bones.
"Fish isn't the worst. Still moist, no acrid char."
Couldn't use the burnt skin, so filleted all the flesh.
Two paths here.
Dish masking fish flavor entirely—a 'fish-inclusive' creation.
Or preserve the fish taste—a true 'fish dish.'
Easier the first: mince with potatoes, fry into croquettes.
But I chose the latter.
'Fish theme—can't sideline the star.'
Common contest mistake: theme-irrelevant dishes.
Mincing filleted fish and strained rice mush. Added starch, kneaded.
Rice grains as binders and weights. Skipped eggs to preserve fish flavor.
Pan-fried in oil.
Sizzle sizzle sizzle.
Outer rice crisped.
Crispy outside, chewy inside fish patties complete.
"How much time left?"
Glanced at the timer: 15 minutes. More than expected.
'Youth sped up my hands for sure.'
Might squeeze in dessert too.
For main completion, sliced onions.
Slice. Slice. Slice.
My dishes so far lacked punch.
Egg soup: deep but salty. Patties: oily from frying. Needed sauces to balance blandness.
Tangy onion-vinegar-soy sauce.
Spicy garlic-chili oil.
Acidity and heat cut grease, add depth.
Main and soup done.
"Rice should be ready now."
Pressure cooker off 10 minutes ago, steaming. Weight spun slower.
Released pressure, fluffed the fluffy rice.
Five minutes left. Sauces took time.
"Plenty for scorched rice though."
Scraped all stuck bits from cooker bottom. Hot surface tough, but skill and strength gathered the nurungji.
Tawny, crispy scorched rice chunks fell.
Crunch crunch.
Good enough.
All dishes finished.
"Just plating... time... 2 minutes. Plenty."
Plating's crucial in cooking.
Food hits smell and sight first. Great taste, weird look? People hesitate. Bad enough, weird thoughts ruin objectivity.
Conversely, subpar taste with luxe visuals boosts perceived quality.
Why fancy restaurants obsess over it.
Plop.
Mounded rice in round bowl. Poured egg soup into dim Chinese-style bowl, garnished chopped green onions for color.
Fish patties on wide plate: lined edges, sauces in small dishes center.
Stacked nurungji neatly for eating.
Dusted cinnamon sugar. Wiped stray powder with tissue.
Loaded trays, rang bell.
Ding ding.
"Park Su-han team! Done! Or should I say Kim Haneul team now? Unbelievable! Turned disaster ingredients into a full meal! Oh, time announcement."
Host counted on mic.
"About 1 minute left! Counting down. Unfinished teams, hurry!"
"Half finished at best."
I exhaled, untied apron.
First time cooking this frantically since regression—Sister's seaweed soup.
Hated non-Sister eating my effort, but no choice.
I waved at diligently filming Sister.