Chapter 215
Chapter 215
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: Rice Ball Truck Inspection
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I could feel the Confucian scholar inside me coming alive and breathing. Sure, my body might be young, but my mental age was far older.
*Where does this kid whose blood hasn't even dried on his head get off calling me by my name like that?*
For a split second, I got heated and muttered to myself. I shot a glance at the one who'd let it slip. He looked like he'd realized his mistake, his face turning sheepish as he checked my reaction.
*Yeah, if it's a slip-up, that makes sense.*
Everyone makes mistakes.
It wasn't intentional, and there was no malice behind it, so it was understandable enough.
I'd been called "Mr. Song Uyeon" or "CEO Song" by everyone I'd met so far, so I hadn't really clocked it. Celebrities often get called by their names without honorifics anyway.
Not that I was a celebrity. Still, after seeing me on TV, people naturally felt a sense of familiarity.
It wasn't incomprehensible.
*But a mistake only gets a pass once.*
If it happened again, I'd give him a proper scolding. With that in mind, I looked around again.
"Hello, I'm Song Uyeon."
"Wow...!"
Clap clap clap.
For some reason I couldn't quite pin down, the people surrounding me burst into applause.
I smiled and greeted them back before cutting straight to the chase.
"I'm sure my sudden visit caught you off guard."
"Yeah!"
"Totally!"
"We have to film you in your actual work environment, so we showed up unannounced like this. I hope you'll bear with us."
I bowed politely, and excitement lit up their faces. Hearing that real filming was underway must've made it sink in.
"So, shall we start here today?"
I looked at the one who'd spoken casually to me first and flashed a grin.
Our eyes met, and the guy subtly averted his gaze.
"Everyone else, just carry on as usual. Owner, could you grab the menu?"
I took a seat nearby, and the others hesitated, glancing around before shuffling back to their spots.
The guy I'd just singled out came over with a tense look on his face and handed me the menu.
A large name tag hung from his apron.
Rice Ball Shop, Kim Jun-seo.
The menu he slid over had "Rice Ball Shop" written in a cute, playful font.
"Here you go."
"What's the bestseller?"
"Uh... tuna mayo sells the best. Everything else does okay too."
The menu was pretty standard. All the usual suspects you'd expect from a rice ball joint.
Tuna mayo, spam mayo, gochujang bulgogi with kimchi cheese rice balls...
They were safe bets that didn't polarize tastes, but even so, this lineup lacked any real character.
"Then I'll order tuna mayo, gochujang bulgogi... and cheese chicken galbi rice balls. Three in total."
"Got it~."
Kim Jun-seo scurried back to the food truck and got busy. Meanwhile, I checked out the truck's exterior.
*'Rice ball character? That's pretty cute. They've put some thought into branding, huh?'*
The sign featured a dancing rice ball mascot. It was charming enough.
My gaze naturally drifted down, and I watched Kim Jun-seo kneading away diligently.
*'Gloves...*
Not nitrile ones—clear vinyl gloves.
At least he wasn't using bare hands, which was praiseworthy. But the loose vinyl gloves undercut any sense of professionalism.
*'The younger you look, the harder you have to work to seem like an expert.'*
I'd been through the same struggle myself, no doubt. Yet there was no sign he'd even considered solutions.
The apron looked like a cheap online buy too.
*'I'm not saying cheap aprons are bad. But if youth is your weakness, shouldn't you at least try to look the part?'*
He screamed rookie chef.
Kim Jun-seo mixed tuna and mayo for the rice balls, then clumsily stir-fried some gochujang bulgogi.
Next, he tore up sliced cheese into pre-stir-fried kimchi, microwaved it, and started forming the rice balls.
*'...Simple.'*
Before long, three rice balls sat side by side.
"Your order's ready."
Kim Jun-seo set down the plate as he spoke.
"Owner, you can head back to the control room now."
"Yep!"
Once he was gone, I inspected the rice balls more closely.
"The size is decent. Plenty for folks who want a full meal with two, or a light bite with one."
They were about the size of an adult man's fist. Perfect for a quick meal.
The price wasn't bad either.
"Honestly, this barely qualifies as cooking. Any college kid in a dorm could whip this up."
So if you're buying it out here, it better be cheap or insanely tasty. One or the other.
Maybe both.
"Still, let's taste it first. Hmm... this the tuna mayo?"
From the outside, I couldn't tell them apart.
Just white rice dusted with black sesame seeds. Lined up like that, distinguishing flavors by looks alone was impossible.
*'Different fillings, same appearance? That's a strike right there.'*
Orders could get mixed up easily, and from a customer's view, the uniformity killed any appeal.
I picked up the leftmost one and took a bite.
Luckily, this was the tuna mayo. The familiar flavor filled my mouth.
"Hmm."
The more I chewed, the purer the ingredients shone through. No fancy techniques needed—just straightforward tastes.
*'Tuna mayo, rice lightly seasoned. Salt and sesame oil? A sprinkle of sesame seeds too. That crunch in the middle's gotta be perilla leaves.'*
One bite, and I could picture exactly how it was made. Basic home cooking, a little predictable.
*'But tuna mayo's hard to mess up.'*
Customers probably weren't expecting gourmet anyway.
I nodded and moved to the next.
"This the gochujang bulgogi? Let's try it."
I took a big bite.
"?"
Just plain white rice in my mouth.
*'Too much rice.'*
Seasoned, sure, but chomping through nothing but rice clogged my throat. I took a sip of water and opened my mouth.
"The first one had filling right away. Not this time, huh?"
What that meant:
Uneven rice thickness.
"Two possibilities here. One, you're new and can't replicate consistently. Two, you did it on purpose for the seasoning? Need another bite to tell."
I took another big chomp.
There we go. Crystal clear now.
"Seasoning issue, right? The gochujang bulgogi's way too salty."
Precisely: insanely salty.
"This'll be tough to finish. Even thick rice can't balance that bulgogi saltiness..."
Rice balls inevitably have that phase where you're mostly eating filling. With the core this off, no good.
I set the gochujang bulgogi one down immediately.
"Too salty on the bulgogi, too bland on the rice. I get trying to balance, but it's completely off."
Too much rice was boring; too much bulgogi overwhelmed.
"Honestly? Better off grabbing triangle kimbap from a convenience store. For real."
Those had better accessibility.
Easy to eat, better seasoning balance. Perfected by food science PhDs, right?
"Last up: cheese chicken galbi."
I naturally picked up the remaining one.
But the second I grabbed it with my vinyl-gloved hand, the rice ball crumbled to bits.
"Huh?"
Just a little time passed, and it's falling apart already? Something was definitely wrong.
"You didn't pack the rice right. And cheese chicken galbi's got more moisture than gochujang bulgogi, so it's harder to hold shape."
Even so. Staring at half-powder rice ball killed my appetite.
"I'll try it anyway."
I scooped some rice and chicken galbi into a bite.
*"...Bland."*
Gochujang one was salty; this was super bland. Seasoning all over the place.
Same truck, wildly inconsistent flavors? No thanks.
"Flavor aside, there's zero sense of thought put into these dishes."
Everything was obvious, no effort to wow customers.
"Owner. How much menu dev did you do? You must've obsessed over it prepping to open here."
I asked into the void, and a reply crackled back soon enough.
*-Well... truth is, I had to prep everything in two months.
"Two months? You only spent two on menu dev?"
*-No, all prep combined.
"...Naming the shop, business registration—all that in two months?"
*-Yes.
"Why?"
*-Didn't know I'd get into the food truck zone here. Got the acceptance late and rushed. Meant to take it slow, but opening in a hurry left things half-baked.
*...*
I was speechless for a moment.
"Fine, let's say extenuating circumstances. Then why not take your time elsewhere instead of fixating here?"
Did he see some grand vision in the food truck zone?
*-Other spots want key money or insane rent...
So, cheap rent won out.
I got it—young folks short on capital had few options. But this location sucked. Did he really weigh everything?
*'Not something to take lightly.'*
How lightly did he take the food biz to dive in blind like this? Unbelievable.
Even two months just on menus would've been a sigher. But thrown in headfirst like this?
"Owner, come down here again."
We needed a serious talk.
Wrong choice? Fix it.
"Keep going like this, and you're done for. Seriously."
Either commit properly or quit.
Pick one.