Chapter 209
Chapter 209
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 209
Chapter Title: Andrik's Long-Awaited Independence
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I jumped up from my seat in shock, but Andrik just calmly tilted his glass.
Because of that, I ended up feeling oddly deflated.
'Well, yeah. With skills like Andrik's, he should've opened his own place ages ago.'
Sure, working under Jeong Ha-neul, the master of Chinese cuisine, was great and all, but in the end, wasn't it natural for every chef to dream of opening their own restaurant?
For a chef, cooking is self-expression.
Just like painters tell stories to the world through their works, or dancers showcase themselves with agile leaps before the crowd.
Chefs speak through their food.
After savoring a meticulously prepared course, you get captivated by the chef's unique colors and flavors—that's the allure of fine dining, isn't it?
'In other words, there's a limit to working under someone else and cooking their menu.'
No matter how famous the mangaka, an assistant is still just an assistant. In that sense, Andrik's independence was surprising yet not surprising at all.
"I originally planned to leave two years ago, but sticking around this long means I held out pretty well."
Jeong Ha-neul said with a sly grin.
Andrik had long since reached a masterful level in technique and creativity as a chef. His presence was just too big to stay under someone else.
And yet, it had been puzzling that he'd kept himself tucked away working under Jeong Ha-neul.
"That's probably code for 'there's nothing left for you to mooch off me,' right? You little punk."
"That's not it."
"What do you mean, not it? Guess I'm starting to feel like an old man ready for the back room. Time to make way for the young guns."
"Don't say that."
Jeong Ha-neul teased playfully, but Andrik shot back seriously.
"Congratulations, Chef Andrik."
I said, trying to hide my lingering daze.
"You should've told me sooner. I could've helped with the lease or picking an interior designer."
Why do chefs dream of their own place but hesitate to take the plunge? It's that one word: 'business.'
Making great food and running a sustainable restaurant are completely different beasts.
'Most places that thrive have tasty food, but tasty food doesn't always mean the business thrives.'
Just look at Lee In-cheol or Choi Jun-hyeok.
But if a talent like Andrik failed to overcome the business hurdles and faded away, that would be a true tragedy.
"I actually brought that up with him."
Bong Kang-min chimed in.
"Me and Chef Jeong might've made it work eventually, but we couldn't offer much help. Back in our day, the competition wasn't as fierce, and it's been so long I barely remember. For that stuff, Song Chef's the expert, so I told him to get your advice."
"And?"
"He said even if he was on his deathbed, he wouldn't reach out to you."
Bong Kang-min clicked his tongue.
'No, seriously, why?'
I tilted my head. Well, maybe he wasn't comfortable with my help. Some chefs have this belief like, 'My place has to be mine from start to finish!'
Even so, ignoring a full-on restaurant industry pro right there? Not even asking for advice once?
I looked at Andrik, puzzled, but he just turned his head away without a word.
"Heh heh. You really have no idea?"
Jeong Ha-neul said with a mischievous smile.
"The reason he put off going independent for two whole years is right here. Think he'd take help from you?"
"Huh?"
"Right, Chef Andrik?"
"......"
Andrik just stayed silent even to Jeong Ha-neul's question.
'The reason he delayed independence for two years... was me?'
That's what the context implied, but I couldn't wrap my head around it. Why me? What did I even do?
'Oh! Wait.'
It hit me suddenly.
'That was around the time we met on Fridge Terror, right?'
Even then, come on. It was all set up by the TV station—a half-baked showdown that barely qualified as a duel.
'The ingredients were leftovers from the fridge, and the time limit was a ridiculous 15 minutes.'
The judges were the fridge's owner, too. Calling it a 'competition' was embarrassing.
And yet, that had held Andrik back from independence and motivated him to train for two more years?
I gave Andrik a strange look, but he remained utterly tight-lipped.
"Back then, Chef Andrik had no real rivals his age. Even veterans with decades more experience were left speechless."
Bong Kang-min leaned back against the chair and said. Jeong Ha-neul added curtly, a faint smile on his face.
"Arrogant."
A sharp thorn hid in that gentle tone.
"You know it well, Song Chef, but the food business leaves slimmer margins than you'd think. It just looks flashy."
I already knew fine dining had surprisingly low profits.
'The ingredients are insanely expensive from the start. Turnover is abysmal. No matter how you crunch the numbers, break-even never lines up.'
If it were really lucrative, conglomerates would've jumped in and turned it into franchises ages ago. But a 150,000-won course? After materials, staff wages, and rent, you're lucky to pocket 10,000 won.
'That's why they do it—for the love of cooking.'
If you want to get rich, better off opening an 8,000-won gukbap joint than fine dining.
"So before going independent, I advised him to do TV first. When the restaurant hits hard times someday, that's how you'd keep it afloat."
Plenty of star chefs draped in glamorous TV shells.
But Jeong Ha-neul and Bong Kang-min were chefs at heart. TV was just a stepping stone to cooking.
"And that's where you two met."
Jeong Ha-neul grinned widely, clearly delighted.
No worthy rival, so his nose in the clouds—showing his disciple a lesson must've been that enjoyable.
"I don't remember it being that big a deal. It wasn't even a proper cook-off."
"No way. We could tell—you all pretended it was nothing while gritting your teeth and going all out. Chefs aren't as big-hearted as they seem."
I knew that all too well.
Kitchens are battlefields, full of brutal culture, wounds, and injustices. Anyone who climbs to chef status isn't your average pushover.
So their competitive fire burned just as hot.
"Thanks to you, I got to keep my disciple two more years. Should I thank you?"
Jeong Ha-neul teased.
"Or should Chef Andrik thank you for stopping him from jumping the gun?"
"......"
"Back then, I thought if I tried to stop you, you'd rebel and leave out of spite, so I held my tongue. Truth is, I wished you'd waited a bit longer."
"Is that so?"
"Just a little more time, and you'd have been perfect."
Perfect. First time I'd heard Jeong Ha-neul say something like that.
He always had that leisurely, sage-like vibe—like he could float away any moment.
But the way he looked at Andrik now gleamed like a craftsman admiring a flawlessly cut gem.
'And even two years ago, his skills were supposed to be insane.'
I hadn't had a chance to taste Andrik's food in a while. If Jeong Ha-neul called it 'perfect,' what kind of monster had he become?
"Now, I could boast him as my disciple anywhere without shame."
Just like that, Jeong Ha-neul's eyes crinkled into a bright smile.
"You're busy prepping the opening, yet you made time to come. Isn't that something?"
"Right, right. Grand opening soon?"
Bong Kang-min jumped in quick, seizing the topic.
"Next week?"
"Yes. That's right."
"You're inviting us, right?"
"......"
"You'll... invite us, right?"
As Bong Kang-min's eyes drooped pitifully, Andrik finally nodded.
"I was planning to bring it up today anyway."
Andrik pulled out an elegantly designed invitation from his pocket. "Andam" was sharply embossed on it.
"I'd like to serve you as my first guests."
"Of course we're coming!"
Bong Kang-min responded instantly.
"The first course from our Chef Andrik? Can't wait to see how much he's prepared. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance—money can't buy it!"
"I'll be there too."
"Thank you."
With those two accepting right away, all eyes turned to me.
"...Can you make it?"
Andrik said in a tone that seemed oddly tense. Probably my imagination. A stone like him wouldn't.
"Hmm. I'd need to check my schedule. Next week when exactly?"
I said, pretending to confirm my calendar.
"Song Chef!"
Bong Kang-min let out a wail from the side. I burst out laughing and continued.
"Kidding. Of course I'll come."
I specialized in mass-appeal food thanks to the franchise business, but that didn't mean I shunned high-end cuisine.
Before my regression, I'd traveled the world, devouring Michelin stars left and right.
"Congratulations again, Chef Andrik."
I said, looking at him.
"I'm looking forward to it. Can't wait to see what amazing dishes you'll unveil."
I'd completely forgotten, but hearing "Andam" jogged my memory. I'd been there once before regressing.
Andrik had gained fame from Fridge Terror back then too.
By the time I was globetrotting as a foodie, he'd left the show to run his restaurant—a Michelin one-star spot.
'I remember it being pretty damn good.'
And from Jeong Ha-neul's view, that was him going independent with slightly lacking skills?
'Then what about now?'
Andrik, polished two more years under Jeong Ha-neul, humbled and refined.
How much further had he ascended?
Maybe...
'He could be the first in our country to claim three Michelin stars.'