Chapter 108: Arbitration Expenses (3)
Chapter 108: Arbitration Expenses (3)
The next day, Jo Minjoon and Kaya did not speak.
It was not because they had nothing to say. There were too many emotions and thoughts between them to fit into such a short time, and if either of them said something carelessly, the conversation could veer off course and end badly.
Because of that, Kaya could only speak to Jo Minjoon in a blunt tone.
Jo Ara leaned towards her brother and whispered into his ear. “Oppa, did you do something wrong?”
“Don’t ask.”
His voice was so dark that it really did seem as though the two of them had fought. In situations like this, there was little point in a third party interfering.
They both wished something would happen to dispel the awkwardness between them, but time showed no intention of waiting. A staff member informed them that there was not much time left before the flight, and in the end, they had no choice but to get into the car.
Jo Minjoon looked through the window at the Grand Chef house reflected in the glass.
He would be coming back soon, but as a contestant and a member of the house, this was the end.
The thought left him strangely numb.
But this was goodbye.
Jo Minjoon lowered his gaze. Kaya and Anderson were looking at him.
They would each walk their own paths now.
Me too… I can’t afford to fall behind.
His feet tingled with restlessness.
Is Jo Minjoon’s Elimination an Obvious Result, or an Unexpected One?
Grand Chef has now entered its third season, and the response has been so overwhelming that it is difficult even to compare it with previous seasons. Many have gone so far as to call it the “best season” yet.
What is behind such an enthusiastic response?
Many viewers point to the contestants’ characters.
For the audience and production staff alike, having the three contestants with the clearest personalities survive until the final stages was an ideal development. Precisely because of that, however, Jo’s elimination has left behind considerable regret.
Part of this is naturally due to the affection viewers have shown him, but more than anything, many were dissatisfied with the process that led to his elimination.
Episode sixteen, broadcast six days ago, featured the theme “Cooking for Your Family”. Considering the familiar and intimate image of such a mission, it was certainly a reasonable theme to use once during the competition.
The problem was that such an ambiguous theme placed Minjoon at a considerable disadvantage.
First, Minjoon’s identity is that of a foreign contestant from Korea. Naturally, his cooking tends to carry distinctly Korean, and therefore foreign, qualities. Until now, however, the judges have often displayed particularly demanding attitudes towards unfamiliar cuisine, and this episode was no exception.
The judges stated that the deciding factor in Minjoon’s elimination was “nervousness”.
But why was Minjoon more nervous than the other two contestants?
Was one reason not the unfamiliarity of the meal itself?
That appears to be the prevailing public opinion.
In fact, Minjoon’s dishes were already considerably removed from a traditional Korean meal. This itself suggests that Minjoon had taken the judges’ evaluation standards into account.
Cooking is ultimately said to be judged subjectively, but Minjoon’s elimination nevertheless leaves a lingering sense of regret.
One can only hope that Minjoon’s future path will ease that disappointment.
The final episode of Grand Chef Season 3 will be broadcast live on 13 July at 7 p.m.
2010.07.07 — Angela Eve
“Her again…”
Whenever Jo Minjoon found himself thinking that an article was particularly well written, there was a good chance he would see Angela Eve’s name attached to it.
She was beginning to rival Jessica, the woman who had suddenly appeared at the restaurant before.
Jo Minjoon let out a long sigh. Because of the mask covering his face, the warm breath gathered around his cheeks before dispersing.
July.
Even in New York, it was hardly cold. The sunlight was warm, and plenty of people were wearing short sleeves. More than that, he was not even outside but inside the airport.
Even so, Jo Minjoon had no choice but to keep wearing the mask. It was not because he wanted to look cool, nor because he had caught a cold. Whenever he walked around bare-faced, too many people recognised him and approached.
Honestly, at first, he had rather enjoyed it. But it quickly became exhausting.
A familiar voice came from beside him. “You’re reading another article.”
“She writes well.”
“If you keep worrying about things like that, you’ll make yourself sick.”
“You’ve really grown up, worrying about your oppa and everything. So, how was it? Did you enjoy America?”
“…Don’t talk like you live here. You haven’t even been to that many places yourself.”
Jo Minjoon merely smiled brightly.
After leaving Grand Chef, he had taken Lee Hyeseon and Jo Ara to various places. He showed them the Grand Canyon they had wanted to see and the Hollywood sign as well.
Their final stop had been New York.
Of course, they had also eaten all kinds of food along the way.
Lee Hyeseon spoke regretfully. “It would’ve been nice if your father could’ve come too.”
“He can always come another time.”
“…When are you planning to return to Korea?”
“For now, I think I’ll go back after the final ends. But… depending on the schedule for the programme afterwards, that might change.”
“No matter where you go, don’t lose yourself. I’m happy that things are going well for you… but at the same time, I’m worried.” Lee Hyeseon looked at him seriously. “There are a lot of eyes on you now. And among them, there will be plenty of people who dislike you for no reason at all. But don’t let yourself be shaken, and don’t be afraid. You understand, right?”
“Yes. I do.”
At that moment, an announcement sounded throughout the airport, informing passengers that the flight would soon depart.
Jo Minjoon smiled faintly. “You should go now. It’s time.”
“…Right. Take care of yourself. If anything happens, call me.”
“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen. And I’ll call.”
“Oppa.” Just before entering the security line, Jo Ara called to him one last time.
Jo Minjoon looked at her.
Jo Ara smirked. “Kaya was prettier in person than on television. Anderson was handsome too.”
“…What?”
“No, I’m just saying.”
Before Jo Minjoon could respond to the unexpected remark, Jo Ara disappeared into the moving line of passengers.
Jo Minjoon turned away with an unpleasant expression.
He needed to head back to Chicago soon himself. Today was the seventh, and the final was on the thirteenth. Martin had asked him to return to the Grand Chef house today. And it was probably not only him. The other seven contestants who had made the top ten must have received the same call.
Am I really going to see them all again?
The word magazine tended to evoke a certain analogue sensibility and sophistication.
Glossy pages. Elegant models accompanied by carefully arranged text. Of course, depending on how provocative that text was, one could usually tell what level of magazine it was.
“…This magazine is garbage too.”
Kim Dongbin frowned as he chewed beetroot and salad with some unidentified purée.
Since becoming a reporter for a culinary magazine, there were two things he had grown accustomed to: eating alone and taking most of his meals outside.
What he had never managed to get used to was putting bad food—or something that merely resembled food—into his mouth.
More dishes arrived.
Sea mussel soup.
Pork souvigne.
Yet even after eating them, Kim Dongbin’s expression did not brighten.
It reached the point where the staff member working the dining room began to watch him nervously.
It feels as though I’ve eaten industrial art made from a sheet of paper shaped to resemble beautiful food. The service and atmosphere are good, but the dishes are garbage. A restaurant worth visiting only for the mood; otherwise, not worth visiting at all. Rating: somewhere between poor and very poor. Above all, the linguine is so salty it actually hurts…
…I’ll write it properly when I get back.
Simply sitting there was already worsening his mood.
Then he saw the receipt.
65,000 won. Approximately 60 dollars.
His mood sank even further.
The cashier smiled brightly. “Was the food delicious?”
“…It was fine.”
He could not bring himself to say it had been delicious. He sidestepped the question by calling it fine, and the cashier understood perfectly well. There could hardly have been only one or two customers like him. Her smile did not disappear, but the expectation behind it clearly did.
Was he truly such a timid consumer that he actually felt consoled by that?
“How can they sell things like that and charge money for it? They’re really happy to take 65,000 won for that. With just 6,500 won, I could’ve had a proper Korean meal.” His grumbling did not stop until he returned to the magazine office.
An intern eating cup noodles at his desk saw Kim Dongbin and smiled awkwardly. “Another failure?”
“These so-called famous restaurant blogger bastards… Were there really no other places they could call good restaurants, so they had to promote something like that? Ugh, why haven’t they gone bankrupt yet? Does the owner own the building? No, even if he does, this is ridiculous. He’d probably make more money renting the place out than running a restaurant like that.”
“Maybe it’s his own kind of romance? A hobby in life.”
“Hey, I can understand romance when the food is delicious. Not when it’s disgusting. Even in some remote mountain village with beautiful sounds of insects and grass, whether you see a tiled-roof house or a thatched cottage can shift the genre from healing drama to thriller.”
The intern had no answer to that and merely scratched his cheek.
Kim Dongbin glanced at the intern’s laptop and noticed the video playing on the screen.
Several familiar-looking foreigners in chef uniforms appeared, along with dishes that looked reasonably impressive.
Kim Dongbin leaned forward. “Is that the show? Grand Chef?”
“Yes. There was a Korean contestant named Jo Minjoon too, but he got eliminated this time. Speaking of which…” The intern straightened slightly and spoke politely. “Now that he’s been eliminated, he should come back to Korea soon. How about we try to get an interview with him?”
“Hey, we’re a fairly respected magazine. What are we supposed to do with some kid who couldn’t even win an amateur cooking competition?”
“But he has an absolute sense of taste. Wouldn’t that make him worth interviewing? Realistically, that’s something even chefs can’t acquire no matter how long their careers are.”
“Talking about his career can wait until he becomes a good chef later. More importantly, who’s going to prove this ‘absolute sense of taste’ isn’t fabricated?”
“We can test him ourselves. And if we frame him as a rising-star chef, I don’t think there’d be any problem.”
“We already have plenty to write about. Don’t create unnecessary extra work. Focus on what we have. And don’t spill ramen broth on the keyboard.”
Leaving the disappointed intern behind, Kim Dongbin returned to his desk.
As he wrote his scathing review of the restaurant he had just visited, the intern’s words continued circling in his mind.
He minimised the document he was working on and opened the internet.
The moment he searched for Jo Minjoon’s name, a provocative related search term appeared.
Absolute Sense of Taste Jo Minjoon.
It sounded like some setting given to the protagonist of a cooking manga.
He had asked the intern whether the whole thing might be staged, but even Kim Dongbin knew that was unlikely.
There was no reason for famous top-class chefs to involve themselves in a fabricated gimmick on a successful programme like Grand Chef.
And judging from Jo Minjoon’s cooking process and the finished results, his ability was quite impressive for his age.
He also had a considerable number of fans.
Perhaps it was because of his handsome, composed appearance. Or perhaps it was because the idea of an absolute sense of taste gave him an air of genius and mystery. Whether in Korea or abroad, there seemed to be remarkably few people who actively disliked him.
He already has popularity comparable to a star chef before he’s even properly debuted.
At the same time that Kim Dongbin felt impressed, he also felt vaguely bitter at the sheer power of television.
He muttered quietly. “A rising-star interview…”
For a long while afterwards, the clicking of his mouse did not stop.