Chapter 173
Chapter 173
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 173
Chapter Title: King-Size Vegetable Tempura Budae Jjigae
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Choi Mi-seon and Park Jun-beom stood side by side, notebooks and pens in hand. I positioned myself in the kitchen and showcased the recipe I'd prepared.
“The basic method for making budae jjigae isn’t all that different. Remember what I taught you last time?”
“Yes.”
In a flash, I chopped up the ingredients. Ham, green onions, onions, mushrooms, kimchi, and so on—all sliced and neatly arranged in the pot. Top it off with baked beans at the very end, and it’s complete.
I ladled in some pre-made beef bone broth.
“Just simmer it like this for a good long time. Start on high heat until it’s bubbling away, then turn it down. While that’s going, we’ll prep the other dish.”
I pulled ingredients from the fridge.
Onions, carrots, zucchini.
“If you want to amp up the sweetness a bit, sweet potatoes work fine too. But slice them thin and use just a little. Otherwise, it gets too sweet.”
Scribble scribble.
The sound of pens scratching away followed every time I finished speaking.
“Slice all the veggies this thinnn~ly.”
Chop chop chop chop.
With some flashy knife work, the vegetables turned into paper-thin julienne strips in no time flat.
“They’ve got to be thin to taste right. As thin as you can manage.”
“Yes.”
“Then mix flour and starch for the batter. Use cold water and pour it in slowly. The trick is keeping it light—not too thick or doughy.”
Once the batter was ready, I set the bowl over another bowl filled with ice.
The batter has to stay cold to get that extra crunch when fried.
“Add just a pinch of salt for flavor. Get the oil ready.”
I poured oil generously into a deep pan.
“Around 170 to 180 degrees is ideal. Drop in a bit of batter—if it bubbles up and floats right to the top, you’ve nailed the temp.”
I pinched some batter between my fingertips and let it fall into the pan. It bubbled furiously and bobbed right up. Prep complete.
“Then fry it up just like this.”
I coated the julienned veggies in batter and dropped them straight in.
“One to two minutes is all it takes.”
A moment later, I fished them out, revealing a perfect crispy golden batch. I drained them on kitchen paper and whipped up several more.
“...Vegetable tempura?”
Park Jun-beom muttered under his breath.
Spot on. It was exactly the kind you’d get at a snack bar.
“Right you are. This is what we’re using.”
“But isn’t regular vegetable tempura way smaller than this?”
Fair question. The stuff they sell at snack bars is usually just palm-sized at best. This thing was double that—practically king-size vegetable tempura.
But everything has its purpose.
I gave the gently simmering budae jjigae on low a quick stir, then turned to the two of them.
“Go have a seat out in the dining area. I’ll bring it right over. You’ve got to taste it, after all.”
“Ah. Got it!”
They scurried out to the front.
Sure, the stew would taste even better with more simmering time. But sadly, we’d have to settle for this.
I hefted the pot and headed out, setting it down on the gas burner at their table. Then I brought out the vegetable tempura separately.
“Serve the tempura on the side like this. Some folks prefer it extra crispy.”
“Aha. Okay!”
“But when you bring it out, give them the heads-up verbally—or better yet, put up a sign on the wall. If they want it crispy, they can eat it separate. But the way I recommend...”
This was the key part.
“The second it hits the customer’s table, plop this tempura right on top.”
I placed the tempura on the budae jjigae so it wasn’t fully submerged—just enough for half to soak in the broth while the other half stuck out.
Timing was everything. Slap it on right before they dig in, or it’d go soggy.
“Wow.”
The sight alone drew out an involuntary “wow.” And it deserved it. That’s exactly why I’d made the tempura so oversized.
“Unique visual, right? And fun.”
“Yeah. With the tempura sitting there like a lid, it looks like a whole new dish.”
“Taste matters, sure. But grabbing attention at a glance? That’s huge. This thing catches both birds with one stone.”
A dish that makes you want to snap a photo? Way more important than you’d think.
In our fast-paced world, dining out has leveled up across the board. To stand out among endless shops, you need that instant “Huh?” spark of curiosity.
Otherwise, people just walk right past without a second thought.
“Customers let it simmer a bit more at the table too, right? That’s when the nutty flavor from the tempura seeps in.”
The tempura’s savoriness pairs perfectly with budae jjigae. It boosts the umami without messing with the core flavors.
“The submerged part gets a little soggy and soft, while the top stays nice and crisp.”
I sliced the tempura in half and portioned it onto their small plates.
“Give it a try.”
The words were barely out of my mouth before they gingerly picked up their chopsticks.
“Whoa...!”
Park Jun-beom took a bite of the vegetable tempura and let out a gasp.
“They go together way better than I expected. Pretty sure the only thing I’ve had it with is tteokbokki.”
“Oh my god, seriously. The crisp texture makes it so fun to chew.”
“And that natural sweetness from the fried veggies is spot on.”
“Right?”
Even I’d been blown away when I tried it. I’d experimented with all sorts of fried toppings, but nothing matched like vegetable tempura.
It wasn’t overly sweet, so it balanced perfectly while adding all those texture layers.
Talk about two-for-one.
Visual wow the first time. Flavor wow the second. Double the surprise.
“Delicious!”
“I thought I was sick of budae jjigae from making it nonstop, but this twist has me going back for more.”
“Guaranteed hit with everyone, young or old. Even as a standalone side, no one’s gonna hate it.”
Choi Mi-seon and Park Jun-beom kept heaping on the praise.
“So, worth learning the recipe?”
They nodded enthusiastically at my question.
“I walked you through it earlier, right? Your turn—make it yourselves.”
“Huh? Right now?”
Choi Mi-seon’s eyes went wide in shock, but I had no intention of going easy. I flashed a grin and said firmly,
“Yep. Right now.”
Learning a recipe and truly internalizing it to execute perfectly? Totally different beasts.
Way too many people freestyle their interpretation of recipes. They mess up in ways I’d never anticipate.
So instead of just handing it over and bouncing, watching them do it up close was the best approach.
“Alright, let’s get started?”
No clue how my smiling face came across. But Choi Mi-seon’s complexion did look a tad pale.
“...Yes!”
And with that, the Spartan-style training kicked off.
Time to drill it into them until they could do it in their sleep.
Crunch!
“Perfect.”
I said it while slicing the tempura in half. It was big and fiddly, more labor-intensive than it looked, but thankfully Choi Mi-seon had kept up.
“Finally... success...”
She didn’t look so hot, but whatever—not important.
“You’ve got the whole new menu down now, so here’s a little gift from me.”
“A gift?”
“Yeah.”
I signaled to the staff, and one of them came out carrying a framed piece.
Inside the frame: my handwritten signature alongside a “Song Woo-yeon Certified Tasty Spot” mark.
“Ah!”
Choi Mi-seon peeled off her gloves and took it.
“It’s nothing fancy, but having proof I stopped by should help with the promo.”
“Oh my. Thank you so much.”
“But this means it’s officially certified by me. If it tastes off when I inspect later, I’m taking it back?”
I said it half-jokingly, and Choi Mi-seon and Park Jun-beom let out little laughs. Joke’s on them—it was dead serious.
I’d put my name on the line helping out, so management would be airtight. Secret visits during franchise checks? You bet.
“You’ve all worked so hard. I got greedy and put you through the wringer, but I’m truly grateful you stuck with it.”
“Oh, no. We’re the grateful ones. We agonized dozens of times a day over whether to just shut down...”
Tears welled up in Choi Mi-seon’s eyes.
“Ever since meeting you, I’ve been sleeping like a rock at night. Body’s worn out and aching, but my heart? Total peace. Thank you. Really.”
“I didn’t do much. You’re the one who put in the work.”
The results were a bit of a mess, sure. But you could tell she’d racked her brain for every new menu idea under the sun.
Plenty of obvious, easy paths were there. But she’d chosen the hard road out of sheer desperation.
“You even developed all the recipes and passed them on. Whew, I can’t even put this kindness into words.”
“Hahaha. There’s one surefire way to repay it.”
“Really?”
Choi Mi-seon’s eyes went round. I smiled and replied,
“Yeah. Of course.”
“What is it?”
“Simple. Just... don’t change, Owner Choi.”
She tilted her head, clearly puzzled. What did I mean?
Not even progressing—just staying put? What’s hard about that?
But it’s way tougher than it sounds. That’s human nature for you.
“Once the broadcast hits—or even before—crowds will pour in. You’ll be exhausted, overwhelmed. This tempura’s no quick job, so doing it solo might wear you down.”
“...”
“Temptation will creep in for easier shortcuts. Or just hiring cheap help to coast.”
“...”
“When that happens, remember this feeling. Hold onto it.”
From the bottom of my heart,
I hoped Choi Mi-seon wouldn’t change.
“That’s all I need.”