Chapter 124: The Envelope That Embraces the Street Stall (3)
Chapter 124: The Envelope That Embraces the Street Stall (3)
Naturally, the man did not hit him.
Of course, that did not mean he apologised either. He muttered something under his breath and disappeared into the crowd.
Jo Minjoon sighed.
Normally, he would not interfere in something like that. But he could not forgive someone for baselessly condemning perfectly good food.
It was something that should not be done.
Because he was a chef.
“……I understand why you did it, but that was too reckless.” Emily spoke with a troubled expression.
“I know. I really thought he was going to hit me.”
“If that man had been even a little stupider, he would have. What if you’d injured your hand?”
“I’ll reflect on it.”
That was how their conversation ended.
The owner of the stall the man had caused trouble at approached them carrying two chicken skewers. His wrinkled face broke into a smile.
“Thank you. Present.”
Jo Minjoon accepted one skewer, while the other went into Emily’s hand. Perhaps because the stall owner’s English was limited, he said nothing more and returned to his stall.
Jo Minjoon smirked.
“Still, we earned two skewers. Five minutes of arguing in exchange for two chicken skewers isn’t bad business.”
Emily gave him an incredulous smile and took a bite.
Soon, she frowned.
“It’s good. He made that much of a scene over this?”
“What do you think? Do you still think I interfered for nothing?”
“……Half and half.”
She was almost finished with the skewer when the producer approached and handed them two notes.
Apparently, the two chicken skewers counted as dishes they had eaten.
Emily asked calmly, “What clues have we got so far?”
“Sea. Building. Somewhere we know. Those three. And now we have another one. Mine says ‘expensive’. What about yours?”
“Mine says ‘top’…… Ah!” Emily exclaimed.
Jo Minjoon did not, but it was obvious that he had reached the same conclusion.
“Penthouse!”
“I was thinking the same thing!”
A place that was expensive, inside a building by the sea, and at the very top.
There was only one answer.
The penthouse Martin had mentioned.
Emily grabbed her head. “Ugh. I should’ve realised the moment it said somewhere we already knew. How many places do I even know in Thailand?”
“How should we get there? Taxi?”
“I’d like to take a tuk-tuk, but we don’t have time to chase romance right now. Anderson’s team couldn’t have found it already, right?”
(Translator’s Note: Tuk-tuk — A motorised three-wheeled taxi widely associated with Thailand, particularly Bangkok and tourist centres. Motorised tuk-tuks became common during the mid-twentieth century.)
“We don’t know. Let’s hurry.” Jo Minjoon urged her onwards with an unusually competitive expression.
He did not even know why he was getting so worked up. The penthouse itself was secondary. He simply felt a strong desire to win.
Watching him look vaguely like an excited child, Emily thought, He really is young.
To be able to throw himself so wholeheartedly into even something this trivial.
Jo Minjoon would probably dislike hearing it, but she found him rather cute.
After travelling quite a distance by taxi, they finally saw the enormous residential complex.
Its height and width alone were enough to leave them speechless.
Once they entered the lobby, Emily spoke.
“As far as I know, this penthouse has been unsold for almost six years. It’s too expensive.”
“Then who owns it now?”
“The royal family.”
“Wow. They really must be rich.”
“They certainly have a lot of money, but they didn’t actually buy it. The developers couldn’t sell it, so apparently they decided to offer it to the royal family and raise the building’s prestige instead. Think about it. If the person living above you—no, if the king of the country had a residence in the same building as you, wouldn’t you feel proud? Even if he didn’t actually live there often, you’d still technically be living in the same building as one of his homes.”
It was a convincing explanation.
Jo Minjoon listened quietly, then suddenly frowned.
“Wait. Then the royal family provided us with accommodation?”
“That’s why I was surprised. I heard that they sometimes lend it out when important state guests visit, but the last time I came here, getting into this place was extremely difficult. Certainly……”
“Certainly what?”
“Wouldn’t it be because of Rachel? Young people might not realise it, but ten years ago, Rachel Rose really was a living legend. More precisely, that was when she was still running Rose Island with her husband.”
Every time he heard something like that, Jo Minjoon became curious.
Just how extraordinary had Rachel’s husband been?
Even when he searched online, there was surprisingly little information. Perhaps it was because his prime had been before the internet became as active as it was now. Most of what Jo Minjoon found consisted of food critics reminiscing about him.
They entered the lift.
There were so many floors that the panel was packed with buttons.
When Emily pressed the highest one, the eighty-third floor, she smiled brightly. “I can finally cross something off my bucket list.”
“Is this place really that amazing?”
“The most expensive things in the world aren’t always things you can buy with money. This penthouse is one of them.”
“We should thank Rachel.”
“You should understand how valuable what you have is, Minjoon. Rachel’s interest isn’t something you can obtain through effort alone.”
“I know. Sometimes my stomach hurts because her expectations feel so heavy……but I’ll have to live up to them. For her sake and mine.”
“Is that because we’re in front of the cameras? That line sounded pretty cheesy.”
“Was it that obvious?” Jo Minjoon smiled teasingly.
The lift stopped.
The gold-plated doors opened, revealing a cosy reception area.
There was only the lift and a single door, making the space feel almost like an extension of the lift itself.
The moment the cameramen and producer stepped out with them, the door suddenly opened and Martin appeared.
“Congratulations! Emily, Minjoon. You found the answer.”
“We’re first, right? Huh?” Emily asked cautiously.
Jo Minjoon laughed at the sight.
Once, she had been the judge teasing contestants. Now she was just like him, staring anxiously at Martin’s mouth while waiting for the answer.
Martin did not respond. He simply pointed towards the door.
“Go inside.”
“Come on. Why are you acting scary again? We won, right?”
Martin only smiled.
In the end, Emily and Jo Minjoon stepped inside.
The moment they did, their mouths opened naturally.
There was no need to mention the sheer size of the place. Even the ceiling was remarkably high.
White furniture sat across a polished marble floor, and instead of ordinary walls, vast glass windows offered an unobstructed view over Pattaya.
Below, buildings glowed in yellow and white, while the lights of cars crawled slowly through the streets like swarms of fireflies.
Jo Minjoon finally understood why penthouses were so often treated as symbols of romance.
He was slowly becoming lost in the flowing lights when an old, strangely weightless voice reached him.
“Hoho. Looks like that old hag Rachel was too slow.”
Jo Minjoon turned.
The moment he saw the elderly man, he almost bowed instinctively before stopping himself.
The man looked to be in his seventies.
Normally, Jo Minjoon would have greeted someone that age with particular courtesy, but this was not Korea.
“Uh…… Are you perhaps one of the new participants?”
“That’s right. And you must be the famous Jo Minjoon?”
“Ah, yes.”
“I’m Jeremy Bennett. I’m an food critic. It seems this is the first time I’ve met the lady beside you.”
“Ah, I’m Emily Potter. I’ve heard a few things about you. But are you perhaps……the person they said was my acquaintance?”
Confusion entered Emily’s eyes.
She had heard the name Jeremy Bennett before, but she would hardly call him an acquaintance.
Jeremy slowly shook his head.
“No. Your young lady friend was here until a moment ago…… Did she go to the bathroom?”
“Lady? She’s a woman?”
“Yes. And a rather young one.”
Emily looked even more confused.
There was no one else she could think of.
At that moment, a door opened with a click, followed by the sound of high heels.
All three heads turned at once.
Jo Minjoon immediately stiffened.
It was not because of the woman’s low-cut outfit.
It was the impression she gave him.
She feels like Kaya.
It was not that they looked alike. Compared with Kaya, this woman seemed less fierce and gave off a stronger South American impression. The only obvious similarities were her black hair and blue eyes. And yet the dangerous, harsh charm radiating from her made Jo Minjoon think of Kaya.
Emily, on the other hand, reacted very differently.
Shock.
And not the pleasant kind.
“Sera……?! What are you doing here?”
“I came as an food critic. It’s been a while, Emily.”
“You’re an food critic? Since when?”
“Let’s see. About a year? I’m fairly famous these days. As the sexiest food critic in America.” The woman called Sera answered casually, then approached Jo Minjoon and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sera Keich.”
“Ah, I’m Jo Minjoon.”
Jo Minjoon shook her hand.
Sera smiled with the kind of charm that could easily captivate most men.
“I’ve wanted to meet you at least once. You know you’re pretty famous these days, right?”
“Really?”
“Of course. There’s your absolute sense of taste, but personally, I’m a fan of your cooking style. I enjoyed watching Grand Chef.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to hear only good things.”
His first impression of the new participants was not bad.
Although the relationship between Sera and Emily seemed somewhat more complicated than the word friends suggested.
The same was true when Rachel arrived about thirty minutes later.
The moment she saw Jeremy, she frowned.
“You’re still alive?”
“Why would I die when even Rachel Rose is still alive? I intend to survive until my niece meets your niece.”
While they exchanged greetings like that, Anderson stood off to one side breathing shallowly, his face pale.
Rachel’s age meant she could not eat very much, and all of the clues they had received had apparently been vague.
As a result, Anderson had been forced to eat almost everything himself.
“……Are you okay?”
“Don’t talk to me…… Ugh.”
Even after that, Anderson made several more trips to the bathroom.
If there was one consolation, it was that Martin had prepared a gift for them. Although it was not particularly special.
Emily and Jo Minjoon had won, but Anderson and Rachel would still be allowed to stay in the penthouse with them.
It did not seem like a sudden act of mercy.
Martin had probably planned it that way from the beginning.
If Rachel had been sent elsewhere, it might have looked as though they were disregarding the royal family’s hospitality.
That night, perhaps because he was unused to such luxurious bedding, Jo Minjoon opened his eyes before dawn.
Strangely enough, the first thing he thought about was cooking. The instant he woke, he remembered the colourful dishes he had seen the Thai stall owners preparing, and he could not resist.
He went to the refrigerator on the off chance there might be ingredients inside.
Fortunately, there were.
He did not know whether the production staff had stocked them or whether they had already been provided by the penthouse manager. The important thing was that he could cook.
There were exactly four dishes he had personally eaten from the street stalls: banana roti, grilled chicken, pad Thai made with stir-fried shrimp and noodles, and beef ribs braised in soy sauce.
(Translator’s Note: Pad Thai — A stir-fried rice-noodle dish commonly made with egg, tofu or shrimp, bean sprouts, peanuts, tamarind, fish sauce, and other seasonings. It became strongly promoted as a national dish during the government of Plaek Phibunsongkhram in the late 1930s and 1940s.)
But those were far from the only cooking scenes he had observed while walking through the streets.
There had been clear-broth tom yum, pad krapao made with basil and pork, and mango sticky rice served with condensed coconut milk and mango.
(Translator’s Note: Tom yum — A Thai hot-and-sour soup flavoured with aromatic ingredients such as lemongrass, galangal, kaffir lime leaves, chilli, and lime. Tom refers to boiling, while yam refers to a sour-spicy style of seasoning.)
(Translator’s Note: Pad krapao — A Thai stir-fry commonly made with meat, holy basil, chillies, garlic, and savoury seasoning, usually served with rice and often a fried egg. It is one of Thailand’s most common everyday prepared meals.)
Of course, unless he actually tasted something, the system could only show him the ingredients, not the full recipe.
At least, that was the limit of the recipe-related ability.
But that did not mean he had merely watched the cooking process without learning anything.
Jo Minjoon had observed countless dishes.
And he was confident he could make them his own.
The refrigerator did not contain every possible ingredient, but there was still plenty to work with.
Beef.
Pork.
Chicken.
Duck.
Crab.
Shrimp.
Basic vegetables.
And several fruits.
Jo Minjoon briefly checked the system window.
[Comprehension of Thai Cuisine] — Proficiency: 13%
Your overall comprehension of Thai cuisine has increased.
The probability of failure when preparing Thai dishes has decreased.
There is a small probability of producing a dish above your current cooking level.
Thirteen per cent was not particularly high.
From everything Jo Minjoon had experienced until now, he knew that a chef with lower cooking ability but deep familiarity with a cuisine could still produce better results than a more talented chef who barely understood it.
For example, if a chef skilled in many cuisines but with little experience in Japanese food made sushi, and a Japanese chef with only three years of professional experience did the same, the latter might still produce the better dish.
Jo Minjoon rolled up his sleeves.
There were cameras installed on one side of the kitchen, but no people were present.
That actually made him feel better.
He could concentrate completely.
First, he soaked the rice noodles in water.
Then he began recreating the dishes he had seen.
The most refreshing discovery was being able to use coconut oil instead of butter.
Back home, coconut oil had been too expensive for him to use casually, but in Thailand it was far more accessible.
He did not recreate the original recipes exactly.
There was no reason to.
For example, the pad Thai he had eaten had contained large pieces of peanut.
This time, Jo Jo Minjoonpped the peanuts finely instead.
While stir-frying them, he poured in a little SangSom, a Thai spirit, and flambéed them.
(Translator’s Note: SangSom — A Thai molasses-based spirit introduced in 1977. It is commonly described internationally as Thai rum and is aged in oak before bottling.)
A smile appeared on his face.
Some people might not understand it, but Jo Minjoon was happier while cooking than while eating.
No.
Even when he ate, his head was usually filled with thoughts like, How could I change this?
Perhaps that was precisely why cooking itself was more enjoyable.
He was placing the completed dishes one by one on the table when he heard a man’s voice, still thick with sleep.
“What are you doing this early in the morning?”
“Ah, did I wake you?”
“No. It wasn’t you. When you get old, you tend to sleep less. And your bladder gets weaker too. Can I eat this?”
“Of course. I made it for everyone to eat.”
Jeremy casually served himself some pad Thai.
Then, just as he was about to eat, he added a little chilli-infused liquid and Thai vinegar.
Jo Minjoon stared in surprise.
The cooking score, which had been 6, immediately rose to 7.
Jeremy took a bite and shivered slightly.
His eyes, hazy from sleep only moments earlier, became clear as he looked towards Jo Minjoon.
“You controlled the wok flavour very well. And it tastes like you flambéed it too……”
“Ah, yes. I used SangSom. But what you added just now……”
“It’s something not many foreigners know. With pad Thai, you should add a little chilli seasoning and Thai vinegar. Without them, it doesn’t taste nearly as good.”
“I learned something useful.”
Jo Minjoon looked genuinely impressed.
Jeremy smirked. “I just know how to eat well.”
“Eating well is the hardest thing.”
“And cooking well like you is easy? When I was young, I used to run a restaurant too. As the head chef. No, actually, calling myself the head chef sounds ridiculous when it was such a small place. A friend and I ran it together. People who called themselves food critics were always coming in and criticising things……… Well, just remember that much. Anyway, I’m not a chef anymore.”
As time passed, the others began waking up and gathering in the kitchen.
They could not help expressing surprise when they saw the dishes Jo Minjoon had made.
Part of it was because of the effort involved, but more than anything, they were amazed that he could reproduce dishes he had seen for the first time so closely.
Copying food he had only observed and never tasted was not merely a matter of having a good palate.
It required extraordinary observation and concentration.
Sera spoke. “You really are a copying machine.”
“……A copying machine?”
“A cooking duplicator. How about we steal every menu item from a restaurant chain and open our own place together?”
Jo Minjoon merely laughed at the ridiculous suggestion. Even so, hearing their praise made him happy. He watched the others gathered around the table as they ate.
Unfortunately, he had not managed to produce an 8-point dish. He still did not properly understand Thai sauces.
When he thought about it, that was only natural. It was fortunate enough that several dishes had reached 7 points.
Rachel tasted the dishes one by one with a more serious expression than anyone else.
Crab fried rice.
Whole fried soft-shell crab.
Every ingredient seemed to have been placed where it belonged. The dishes undeniably carried a Thai character. But beneath that, she could also sense Jo Minjoon’s own colour as a chef.
He did not seem to realise it yet. But he unquestionably had a colour of his own.
And that was what made Rachel anticipate his future most.
Rachel wrapped coriander, crab meat, chicory, and lime juice in a lettuce leaf and took a large bite.
Jo Minjoon watched her and smiled.
She was old enough to be his grandmother, yet seeing her eat his food so enthusiastically felt strangely endearing and satisfying.
While Rachel was still chewing the large mouthful, Emily, who was eating stir-fried morning glory, spoke brightly.
“The morning glory is so fresh that it’s really delicious! The flavour and aroma of the sauce and garlic are great too…… How is it, Rachel? Try this.”
Rachel swallowed and answered.
“There isn’t a single thing on this table that tastes bad. For breakfast, this is so elaborate that I’m almost embarrassed.”
“Thank you.”
The cooking scores ranged between 6 and 7, but that did not mean the food was not delicious.
In fact, for ordinary people, a direct flavour created through a simple cooking process could sometimes be more enjoyable.
Of course, even though everyone at the table had refined palates, they could still appreciate that simple pleasure.
Anderson watched Rachel eating happily and muttered bitterly, “I should’ve made breakfast too.”
“You can do it tomorrow.”
“I was already planning to.”
They were still talking when Martin appeared, his face slightly swollen from sleep.
He smiled. “Good morning. Maybe because it’s such a good morning, I have good news. Should I explain it at length or keep it short?”
“The short version will probably be long enough.”
At Anderson’s answer, Martin opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Seeing everyone’s impatient expressions, he finally spoke with obvious amusement.
“Fine. Let’s keep it short. The royal family has invited you to lunch!”