Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Relay Cooking Race (3)
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Beeeep!!!
At the host's announcement, the staff moved with military precision. They loaded the dishes onto carts, snapped photos for the cameras, and the judge took his seat.
The judge for this round, Choi Tae-soo, was something of a name in the foodie world.
He'd started out running a review blog, hopping from restaurant to restaurant, but once he dipped his toes into Nutube, his fame skyrocketed.
"Hello, I'm Choi Tae-soo. I'll judge as fairly as possible. Bring out the first dish."
The called pair wheeled out their cart. They set a plated dish in front of Choi Tae-soo: a whole chicken in a wide bowl, with a small side plate of kimchi and pickles.
"Your theme was chicken, right? What'd you make?"
"We prepared samgyetang."
The broadcaster named the dish first, followed by the chef's explanation.
"When we first got the chicken, we agonized over it. We could've roasted it in the oven, fried it, or even done a salad. But with winter coming, we went for the nourishing samgyetang."
The Jjijik live feed replayed their cooking process.
Scenes of boiling the chicken without trimming the tail fat. Gamey steam billowing out, making the host grimace. Desperately dumping in garlic and spices to salvage it.
Once the explanation wrapped, Choi Tae-soo carefully lifted his spoon.
"I'll dig in."
He tore into the chicken leg—the tastiest part—with gloved hands and savored it with eyes closed.
Chew chew chew.
While the judging went on, the other contestants whispered with their partners. Some recapped the dish description, some prayed, others just watched.
Park Su-han gnawed his nails and asked Kim Haneul,
"What do you think? Tasty?"
"Probably not. Samgyetang's gamey smell has to be controlled from the initial boil, or it's tough to fix later."
"Even with all those spices?"
"Spices aren't a cure-all. Layer too many colors, you get black. Same with spices—the more you add, the more they muddle, killing the samgyetang's true flavor."
Kim Haneul recalled their process from the broadcast. Drawing on his Michelin experience to predict the taste...
"Overboiled and tough, with overpowering aromatics drowning out the depth. Bad menu choice overall."
Kim Haneul nailed it.
Choi Tae-soo, eyes still shut in focus, let out a deep sigh. He set down the half-eaten leg.
"Menu selection was wrong from the start. People think samgyetang's easy—just toss everything in and boil. That's probably why you picked it?"
"...Yes."
"But it's incredibly tricky. Perfect balance of meat, grains, and herbs—clean yet deep. That's the essence. Yours..."
Choi Tae-soo scraped his tongue to clear the aftertaste, then delivered his verdict coldly.
"Honestly, no clue what it tastes like. Eyes closed, I'd think, 'Did they dump a spice jar?' Weird."
The pair slunk away, heads bowed.
Judging continued. Praised teams beamed; criticized ones sulked.
Being a variety show, even the harsh critiques landed light and fun. One team even made it ultra-spicy, drawing hilarious outrage from Choi Tae-soo for killer footage.
Then it was our turn right after.
Oh Jun-seo and his partner wheeled out proudly. A luxurious steak and cream-sauced salad dazzled visually.
"Whoa, best plating so far. Makes sense—you're a pro restaurant chef, Jun-seo. Like a painting. Explain."
Oh Jun-seo spoke up.
"Our theme: beef and salad. We had Tae-hyeong oven-roast the beef for simplicity. For the salad, cream sauce to amp up the steak's flavor."
Choi Tae-soo sliced the meat with a knife and popped a bite. The beefy richness flooded his mouth. Oven-roasted by a newbie, yet evenly cooked.
Nuttiness balanced, not greasy—soft enough for weak teeth. Impressive for cheap beef by a beginner.
"Steak's nutty-rich balance is spot-on, but salad falls short. I eat salad for refreshment—to cleanse before meat. This cream's too heavy."
"Judge? Steak and cream pair traditionally well, no?"
"I know that. But ingredients vary, and tradition bends to flavor balance."
"You just don't get it, but in Italy..."
Choi Tae-soo dropped facts. Oh Jun-seo kept arguing, but chefs don't beat judges—that breaks the format.
Plus, the guy was twice Oh Jun-seo's age, with far more culinary mileage. His word carried weight.
The host finally cut in, tired of it.
"Let's go."
"Whew. Yeah."
Kim Haneul pulled the cart alongside Park Su-han, who clutched his chest, steadying his breath. He'd been pumped before cooking started.
But after botching it, his energy tanked. He knew exactly how badly he'd screwed up.
Kim Haneul took the lead in talking.
"Beautiful dish. Like a painting again. Having seen the process, this result's honestly unbelievable."
Viewers reacted the same.
Kim Haneul introduced the dish.
"Our theme: fish and rice. The meatballs use parboiled rice, veggies, starch, and fish. Mashing the ruined fish was best, so we built a Chinese composition around it. Egg drop soup made thick and nutty—dip the meatballs in onion sauce or chili oil to taste."
Choi Tae-soo started with a spoonful of egg drop.
Subtle chicken stock aroma, sesame oil nuttiness. The thick, warm liquid enveloped the tongue like fluffy clouds. Yet it melted smooth, no chew.
Perfect palate cleanser before the main.
'Even sick folks could eat this easy.'
The fun texture and superior flavor drew a smile.
Next, he poked a meatball.
Crispy crunch through the chopsticks. Yet it yielded softly under pressure. In the mouth: outer rice grains crumbled, veggie-fish juices burst.
Early process looked fishy—literally, poorly handled.
But perilla leaf and minced ginger tamed the fishiness, leaving pure oceanic umami.
The two sauces tricked the palate into two different dishes each dip: sour-spicy-nutty meatballs transforming.
Last, scorched rice for finish. Honey-cinnamon dust gave familiar sweetness, but chewy rice bits amid crunch added playful texture.
Ideal course-ender dessert.
"Oh, sorry—savoring. Flavor-wise... insanely good. Two things hooked me."
Choi Tae-soo pointed to each plate.
"First, perfect harmony across everything. Egg drop, rice balls, fried meatballs, sauces, scorched rice. Any order, seamless. Can't believe this salvaged failed ingredients on the fly."
He tore a meatball with chopsticks. Vibrant veggies and fish flakes inside, juices dripping.
"Second, textures. Texture's king for these. Expected crisp-chewy, but surprise: those mushrooms add pop-in-mouth crunch."
He ate while talking, face beaming genuine delight.
"Oh, Haneul. Those chewy rice bits in the scorched rice—intentional?"
"Honestly, aimed for pure crunch, scraped off bits. But time crunch, so served as-is."
"Not intentional then?"
Kim Haneul shook his head.
"Half-intentional. If it hurt quality, I'd have ditched it. Call it on-the-spot pivot from a glitch."
"Turning failure to success... memorable. Scores done. Next team."
Kim Haneul and Park Su-han's judging ended triumphantly. His dish's textures, flavors, and harmony overshadowed everything after—even Choi Tae-soo couldn't stay fully neutral against Michelin magic.
Thus, Relay Cooking Race victors: Kim Haneul team.
"Good work."
We bid farewell to the crew and headed home. Sister took the wheel and hit the gas.
"Congrats. Cake tonight mandatory, right?"
"What big deal? No stiff competition."
Sister's smile never faded the whole drive.
Staff later said she'd paced anxiously throughout, fretting over potential hate if we lost.
"Oh Jun-seo... did okay, I guess."
"I don't like him, though. That attitude in Yori King? Not concept."
"Kinda."
Post-win reveal, he slammed the table—not him. Muttered about rigged show, stormed off mid-program. Bumped a staffer en route—no apology.
None of my business.
Till his Baelstar post dropped.
Filming was a blast. Live viewers kept asking if Kim Haneul really outcooks me. Why'd I lose? Judge preferred fish over beef—unfair. So Haneul, fair 1v1 rematch? Decline if you want.
P.S.: Editor, no overacting on camera. Uncomfy.
This motherfucker.