Chapter 137: What a Kitchen Is (2)
Chapter 137: What a Kitchen Is (2)
A strange sense of guilt surged up inside him, as though he had stolen something from someone.
And yet, it was rather enjoyable.
Of course, there might be something wrong with feeling that way, but what could he do? He had this kind of ability. Alfredo had been confident that Jo Minjoon would not be able to grasp the recipe even after eating the noodles.
He had simply been wrong.
Thinking of it that way made things easier.
Even so, knowing the recipe did not mean Jo Minjoon could reproduce everything perfectly. Alfredo’s pasta-making was not something that could be copied merely by matching the temperature and ingredient ratios. The force used to press the dough, the timing, the angle…… If he could reproduce every one of those things, then by that point it would practically have become his own recipe.
“How is it, Minjoon? Do you think you figured it out?”
“I think it would be awkward whether I said I did or didn’t.”
“Haha. The longer your answer gets, the more it sounds like you couldn’t work out the recipe.”
“Well, I can tell you the dough ratio……but I don’t think there’s anything particularly special about that by itself.”
“You understood that immediately. The basics are the best path. Think of climbing a mountain. If there’s already a proper trail, why deliberately choose another route? Still, you’re impressive. Most people assume there must be something special hidden in it.”
Jo Minjoon merely smiled.
Kaya brushed off his shoulder with a proud expression.
“You did well.”
“That was just the basics.”
By now, everyone else seemed too tired even to react.
Anderson looked at Alfredo.
“How much pasta do you make in a day? From what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look like you only make linguine.”
“I make many kinds, but linguine is definitely the most popular. After that come spaghetti, fettuccine, tagliatelle, and so on…… I’m a little weaker when it comes to things like fusilli, short lasagne, and stuffed pasta. Ah, but that doesn’t mean they’re bad or unpopular. It’s simply that our long pasta is the most recognised internationally…… There are even customers foolish enough to come to our shop and order something other than long pasta.”
(Translator’s Note: Fusilli — Spiral-shaped pasta traditionally associated with southern Italy, named after an older method of winding pasta dough around a spindle or rod.)
Alfredo volunteered far more information than Anderson had asked for.
Watching the man’s arrogant expression and proudly raised shoulders, Jo Minjoon laughed.
He had always imagined that masters spoke little and gave great weight to every word. Alfredo was the complete opposite, and somehow that felt refreshingly human.
Jo Minjoon spoke.
“Would you mind if I copied your recipe exactly?”
“Ha. If you can do it, go ahead. To make good pasta, you first need strong wrists. Can a man have wrists that thin? Your girlfriend beside you is unfortunate.”
“……Girlfriend?”
“Ah, isn’t the person beside you your girlfriend? You two are so close that I assumed she was.”
Alfredo spoke as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Kaya coughed and immediately moved one step away, separating her shoulder from Jo Minjoon’s.
Jo Minjoon continued,
“Anyway, the linguine was delicious. It was the best pasta I’ve ever eaten. Thank you for making me feel like I really came to Italy.”
“Why are you thanking me?”
From Jo Minjoon’s perspective, there was plenty to be grateful for.
It was the first perfect pasta he had ever eaten in his life.
Of course, Alan’s cooking—or more precisely, the work of Alan’s entire kitchen—had played a major role. Even so, Jo Minjoon thought Alfredo had contributed the most.
Without Alfredo’s pasta, that dish would never have existed.
Will I be able to reproduce it?
He had fully grasped the conditions.
The system had told him everything: under what circumstances the dough had to be kneaded, how it should be handled, and what conditions were required.
The only question was whether his body could actually reproduce it.
He had no intention of trying immediately.
But after years of steady practice……perhaps he would be able to.
It was an optimistic thought, but he could not help feeling excited.
Standing a step behind him, Sera watched Jo Minjoon with gentle eyes.
To be honest, she had also thought the pasta was incredibly delicious and nearly perfect.
But perhaps because she was not a chef, she had not expected the significance of it being a ten-point dish to be quite so great.
She also had no chance of identifying the basic ingredients in the dough.
She had assumed there must be something special hidden inside it, because otherwise it seemed impossible to produce a flavour like that.
When she thought about how this was the difference between tongues people were born with—a wall she could never cross—she still felt miserable, regardless of what Emily had told her.
Sera spoke.
“Emily. You really are amazing.”
“Why are you suddenly saying that? It’s scary.”
“You must have understood all of this the first time you saw Minjoon’s absolute sense of taste. You must’ve understood immediately what it meant. I’m only now beginning to grasp it…… This is much more incredible than I thought.”
“The viewer count didn’t explode for no reason when his absolute sense of taste was revealed. Kaya and the romance rumours probably helped make him more famous than the previous winners, but his palate is still the biggest reason. Like I told you……”
“I know. If you get greedy for something you can’t have, you’ll only make yourself miserable. And our way of tasting food has value of its own.”
Emily looked at Sera, who had spoken before she could finish. She closed her mouth and rolled her eyes upwards.
Sera glanced towards Anderson.
“Anderson must feel frustrated too. It can’t be easy having a friend beside you who’s that outstanding.”
“Is that so……?”
“Yeah. Just thinking about trying to catch up would make your shoulders feel heavy.”
Sera said that while glancing towards Emily.
Emily, however, was busy looking at Anderson and failed to notice.
The cameraman might have captured all of it, but it would be some time before Emily saw the scene when the episode aired.
Rachel, however, heard their conversation.
And the part that caught her attention most was Anderson.
Now that she thought about it, she had just told Jo Minjoon that she wanted him in her kitchen.
But she had never said anything like that to Anderson, despite how openly he had always shown his admiration for her.
Am I too cold?
She could not return goodwill to everyone who showed it to her.
There were countless people in the world who smiled at her. Most of the time, the only thing she could give them in return was another smile.
Still, seeing Anderson from behind left a bitter feeling in her chest.
Part of it was because he was the son of people she knew, and part of it was because the admiration Anderson showed her was unusually transparent compared with most people.
While Rachel watched him, Jeremy gave a sly smile.
“Why? Thinking of changing horses?”
“……How many times do I have to tell you to use expressions suitable for your age?”
“I wonder. Until you get tired of saying it?”
“Even when you’re about to die, you never talk about fixing that habit. They’re still children. Stop talking about them as though they’re kitchen tools.”
“Kitchen tools? I’m not even a chef anymore, so why would I do that? If anything, you’re the one who would. I still don’t know what kind of ambition you’re trying to satisfy by taking Minjoon. Is it simply about reviving the main Rose Island? No. Is that really your true goal?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I do have something to say, but I don’t think I should say it in front of the cameras.”
Rachel glared at Jeremy for a moment, then opened her mouth.
But she neither cursed at him nor insulted him.
Perhaps Anderson sensed the atmosphere between them, because he approached.
“Mr. Jeremy. Are you bullying my teacher again?”
“Hoho, I’m not some mischievous primary-school child. Why would I do that?”
“I wonder. Even if you aren’t a child, you’re still mischievous.”
“Damn. You caught me.”
Jeremy exaggeratedly widened his eyes in surprise.
Anderson sighed.
While all of that was happening, Jo Minjoon kept looking around every corner of the kitchen.
Perhaps because Alan and the cameras were present, the chefs gripping their pans looked more tense than usual.
Alan spoke calmly.
“Like I told you before, I really wanted to bring you into this kitchen. Do you remember the day your absolute sense of taste was revealed?”
“It would be difficult for me—or anyone else—to forget.”
“Back then, Emily suggested that you become a gourmet. And I told you not to be swayed by that temptation.”
Emily turned her head slightly at the sound of her name.
Alan flinched and lowered his voice. He spoke almost in a whisper, quiet enough that only Jo Minjoon and Kaya beside him could hear.
“Back then, you told me you wouldn’t be swayed because of the happiness cooking gave you. And I told you that the difficult road of being a chef might wear you down.”
“You did.”
“Even so……I hope you still haven’t changed your mind. This programme may be difficult, but compared with working in a real kitchen, it’s still sweet. If you work under Teacher Rachel, you probably won’t have to endure difficult days because there aren’t enough customers…… But that doesn’t mean the work itself will be as sweet as this. It won’t be a sweet time. It’ll be a salty one. I hope that even when something saltier enters your mouth……you don’t spit it out.”
“Mm.”
Kaya suddenly cut into Alan’s long speech.
Her expression looked as though she had bitten into a sour grape.
“Why are you looking down on Minjoon like this?”
“I’m not looking down on him, Kaya. I’m trying to keep him from breaking when the distance between reality and his fantasy becomes clear……”
“That means you think he’ll lose to that difference. That won’t happen. Minjoon will never leave the kitchen.”
“……Why are you so certain?”
“Minjoon even put up with me.”
Kaya’s voice sounded slightly angry.
No, she really was angry.
She knew Alan was saying this for Minjoon’s sake, but she still disliked hearing Minjoon treated as though he might be even slightly weak.
“He put up with someone as difficult and spoiled as me, so do you really think he won’t be able to endure some kitchen? Minjoon would never do that. He has more determination than you think, more patience, and he’s far more manly than you realise. He won’t run away from a path he chose himself.”
“Kaya.”
Alan cut her off calmly.
He smacked his lips as though hesitating for a moment, then spoke quietly.
“I ran away once. From the kitchen.”
Normally, the weight of those words would have been enough to make anyone stop and listen.
But Kaya seemed determined to prove that Jo Minjoon was not weak at all.
She looked at him with aggrieved eyes, almost as though she were about to cry.
“Hey. Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Alan’s allowed to worry about me. Don’t be like that.”
“……Does that mean you might stop cooking?”
“That’s not what he means. He’s telling me not to stop even when things become difficult.”
“You’re not like that.”
Kaya spoke stubbornly.
She was pouting, and the faint lines of her lips gleamed, perhaps because of her lip gloss or simply because they were naturally moist.
“You’ve never lied to me. Not once.”
“……There’s no reason to lie.”
“And you told me you wanted to run a restaurant. You told me you wanted to cook forever.”
Kaya drew in a deep breath, almost as though suppressing a sniffle.
“Don’t turn those words into a lie.”
