Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Broadcast (2)
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In an instant, the chat window erupted.
The chat had turned into total chaos. It seemed even the viewers had no idea he was going to eat peanut butter kimchi fried rice.
I sidled up to Park Su-han and quietly asked him where the viewers couldn't hear.
"Mr. Park Su-han. You didn't say anything about making weird food."
"That weird food is peanut butter kimchi fried rice."
Before the broadcast started, he'd just said it was some unusual dish. When I asked what, he said it'd be a surprise reveal, so I let it slide.
A regular person making unusual food at a campsite? How weird could it be? I didn't think much of it.
"Will this be a problem by any chance?"
I glared at Park Su-han, who said it so casually.
Was he seriously calling this "food"?
To give cooking feedback, of course I had to taste it. Even if I'm an exceptional chef who can judge flavor from the process alone, once the food's made, you have to eat it.
Nothing in the world is 100% perfect.
In other words, I had to seriously critique the freak dish of peanut butter kimchi fried rice.
"Haa. Just do it."
"Got it. Let's get started right away."
I sat in the chair his manager had brought. In the meantime, Park Su-han finished prepping to cook.
He pulled out kimchi and peanut butter jam from the convenience store, instant rice, garlic, oil, and such. The ingredients were pretty much textbook for kimchi fried rice. Except for that brown jar of peanut butter jam.
"Alright, let's get started! Whoa, I really know my way around cooking, huh?"
The sudden donation popped up, and Park Su-han said while stir-frying the kimchi,
"Remember our Freak Food World Cup last time? I picked from the list of the most popular ones there."
"Freak Food World Cup? You even do that?"
"Yeah. Wanna see?"
Park Su-han paused cooking and suddenly ducked into the tent.
He wasn't even skilled at cooking. Beginners should never leave the fire unattended. Flavor aside, what if a fire broke out?
I'd have to mention that later, I thought as I checked the list he'd handed me.
- Fermented Skate Pasta
- Mint Choco Kimchi Stew
- Chocolate Cookie Seolleongtang
I couldn't believe my eyes the moment I saw it.
Another donation exploded. Park Su-han tried to grab the list from me to read it himself, but the kimchi was about to burn, so I basically snatched it back.
"I'll read it, so focus on cooking."
"Got it."
If the food burned here, I'd have to eat it. If it weren't for that, I'd have let him be.
I pointed out a few eye-catching ones from the list.
"Milk Doenjang Stew, Yogurt Curry, Pickle Naengmyeon, Ssanghwa-tang Braised Pork. Oh, the Ssanghwa-tang braised pork is delicious."
"Yes. The reason Ssanghwa-tang is tricky is all the medicinal herbs, but in braised pork, they balance out the pork's off-flavors and give a subtle aroma."
I used to make it often when I lived in Europe. Herbs were hard to get, so I'd stock up on Ssanghwa-tang packets and use those.
Nothing else on the list looked edible.
I set the paper aside and focused back on Park Su-han.
"Su-han, the kimchi up front is burning. Flip it."
"The video said to let it char a bit for that smoky flavor?"
"Haa. If charring gave smoky flavor, charcoal briquettes would be flavor bombs. Burnt is just burnt. They're probably talking about soy sauce."
"Aha."
Park Su-han flipped the kimchi. The surface was black. Burnt.
"For now, let's pick out the burnt bits."
The original broadcast plan was to watch him cook, taste the finished dish, and point out improvements.
But that assumed the food was edible. I couldn't eat burnt-smelling peanut butter kimchi fried rice.
Park Su-han seemed to get it too and silently picked out the burnt kimchi without a word.
Half the kimchi was gone.
"Ahem. I'll focus on cooking. Haneul, take it from here."
Park Su-han glanced at me nervously and concentrated on cooking.
Somehow, I'd ended up handling the chat and donations.
I alternated between his cooking and the chat, answering standout questions.
"No. Honestly, there's a lot to say, but I'll cover it all at once later."
"I'm good at cooking."
"I can guess the taste, but yeah, I have to eat it."
"My first love is my girlfriend now. And I said no girlfriend talk. Su-han, can you ban him?"
Park Su-han, who was focused on chopping, finally looked up at the chat. He chuckled softly and moved the mouse.
"Take ten, buddy. 10-minute ban."
Girlfriend chats dropped off sharply after that.
I drew on my interview experience to keep the broadcast going as smoothly as possible, and in the end, Park Su-han's dish was finished without incident.
"Phew. Finally done. Let me show you up close. Ta-da~"
Park Su-han picked up the camera and filmed over the frying pan.
Glistening red rice grains stuck together in oil, topped with gooey peanut butter like vomit. Barely any kimchi chunks visible, just clumps of peanut mixed with chili powder stealing the show. The greasy sweetness of the jam mixed with the kimchi's sourness into a nauseating smell.
The chat went wild.
The last message stuck out especially.
"Su-han? You know visuals are part of cooking, right?"
"Yes. I did my best."
It wasn't a lie—sweat beaded on his sideburns. An everyday guy unfamiliar with fire had toughed out the heat and tried his hardest.
Having watched the whole process, I couldn't bring myself to criticize harshly.
I let out a deep sigh and took the spoon he offered.
Squelch.
I scooped up one spoonful. The texture was off. Sticky like mud dissolved in water. Nothing like kimchi fried rice should feel.
"Alright, time to taste. You try some too, Su-han, and give me some objective feedback."
I scooped exactly one spoonful and put it in my mouth.
Thick, sticky texture. Right behind it, the sweet greasiness of peanut butter. The kimchi's spice was gone, leaving only sourness standing out. And the occasional burnt hits stabbed my brain.
I tried my best to swallow, but instinct rebelled.
In the end.
Ptooey.
I spat it into a tissue and tossed it.
Glancing sideways, Park Su-han's face was twisted in disgust too. He forced it down. With tears welling in his eyes, he coughed.
"Cough. Cough. Feedback, please."
Feed me this garbage and ask for feedback?
I'd planned to go easy since I'd seen his effort, but that flew out the window the second I tasted it.
"First, about grilling the kimchi. When you grill kimchi..."
I went through every issue I'd noticed while watching. He'd clearly watched tons of videos—his wok tossing and knife work were full of showy flair.
I unloaded all my prepared feedback, and Park Su-han's expression went blank.
Most of the chat was sympathizing with Park Su-han.
Had I gone too hard?
It was the worst thing I'd ever tasted out of everything I'd eaten in my life, so I'd lost it for a second. I felt a bit sorry.
"But why make freak food like this instead of something normal?"
"'Cause it's fun."
My sympathy vanished.
Inviting a guest and feeding him peanut butter kimchi fried rice? That's not cool.
I was annoyed.
Then a fun idea hit me.
"Su-han. Honestly, you're not finishing this, right? It'll make a ton of food waste."
"Uh... yeah?"
"Let's make a bet. I'll make peanut butter kimchi fried rice with the same ingredients. If it sucks, we split the leftovers. If it's good, you eat it all."
Life returned to Park Su-han's eyes.
An unexpected plot twist that hooks viewers? He loved it.
He thought it over for a second, then nodded.
"Deal. Give it a shot. Even you can't make this combo taste good, Haneul."
The chat lit up.
I immediately chopped the leftover kimchi.
There are bad ingredients in the world, and ingredients that don't pair well. But a great chef overcomes that and makes delicious food.
As Kim Haneul made peanut butter kimchi fried rice, I thought,
If I balance the nutty peanut butter with the spicy kimchi fried rice kick, wouldn't it work? Southeast Asia has stuff like satay and tantanmen that use peanut butter sauces well.
Western cuisine is my main, but at Michelin three-star level, I can handle pretty much anything.
Slice. Slice. Slice.
Prepped the ingredients, then built the flavor layer by layer with wok work.
And the finished peanut butter kimchi fried rice.
"I-Is this really made with those ingredients? For real? You didn't buy it somewhere?"
Park Su-han stared at the kimchi fried rice in disbelief.
The chat was the same.
I held it out confidently.
"Dig in."
Park Su-han scooped a spoonful. Gulped, then cautiously put it in his mouth.
Chew. Chew. Chew.
His expression brightened with each bite. Nostrils flaring like it was that good. Then despair hit when he swallowed.
"I was really trying to say it sucked... but damn, it's good."
Park Su-han scooped another bite.
A whopping 100,000 won donation. Park Su-han stopped chewing, jumped up, and reacted.
"Whoa! Thanks for the 100k! So, about the taste... The nutty and spicy balance is spot on. Each grain is coated in oil for that perfect chew, and the peanut butter's richness is tamed by the kimchi spice. Kinda feels like something you'd get from a Southeast Asian street stall, not kimchi fried rice."
While he reacted, I pulled out two bowls and portioned the food.
One was the poop-like kimchi fried rice, the other gleaming like Southeast Asian fare.
I put the former in front of Park Su-han, the latter in front of me.
"Bon appétit. Time to pay the penalty."
And so, Park Su-han gagged seven times fulfilling his penalty, and that broadcast was a massive hit.
Proof: 4,000 real-time viewers.