Chapter 145: The Hands of a Master (2)
Chapter 145: The Hands of a Master (2)
Ignoring the guide’s stare, Jo Minjoon and Rachel slowly entered the restaurant. The walls were white, while bright wooden boards had been fitted across the floor and walls like frames, giving the small interior a clean, refreshing atmosphere.
“Irasshaimase!”
The employees called out energetically. Neither Rachel nor Jo Minjoon spoke Japanese, but even they could tell it was a greeting of welcome.
The restaurant was not very large and was already crowded with customers, which made it difficult for the entire production staff to enter. One of the employees looked at their numbers, then at the cameras, and frowned slightly before speaking with Martin through the guide. After a brief conversation, Martin turned towards them.
“It looks like it’ll be difficult for all of us to go inside. Rachel and Minjoon, you two go ahead…… I’ll handle the camera.”
Martin took a small handheld camera from one of the staff members and smiled brightly. The three of them sat at the counter directly beside the kitchen, where the chefs were working. Once they were seated, a man who appeared to be in his fifties spoke to them.
“You’re foreigners. Are you here sightseeing?”
His English carried a noticeable Japanese accent, but there was no difficulty understanding him. Rachel smiled gently.
“We’re sightseeing while filming a programme.”
“Working and travelling at the same time. That must feel rather strange. I’m Yamamoto Kenji. You can simply call me Yamamoto.”
“I’m Rachel Rose.”
“I’m Jo Minjoon.”
“I thought you were Japanese, but you’re Korean.”
Yamamoto looked at Jo Minjoon for a moment, apparently surprised. Jo Minjoon looked back at him—or more precisely, at his stats.
Cooking Level: 7.
Compared with many chefs he had encountered, it did not seem particularly extraordinary. But considering that more than half of what Yamamoto prepared was probably sushi, Jo Minjoon was not sure whether that number truly represented his ability. If the system had shown individual skills, perhaps there would have been something like Understanding of Sushi — Mastery 85%.
Jo Minjoon spoke carefully.
“There’s something I wanted to eat first. Would that be all right?”
“If there’s something you want, we’ll make it for you.”
“I’d like tamago sushi.”
At Jo Minjoon’s words, Rachel looked at him in mild confusion. There was a famous saying that if you wanted to judge the level of a sushi restaurant, you should try its tamago. But Jo Minjoon had chosen this place after examining the quality and texture of its fish from outside. If he had already judged the restaurant that way, there should have been no need to test its level with tamago.
Yamamoto’s reaction, however, surprised her.
“You’re fortunate. Our real regulars always eat at least one piece of tamago sushi when they come.”
“Tamago? Is yours particularly different from other places?”
“What could be so special? I simply stayed faithful to the basics.”
“Mm…… Then give me one as well.”
“Of course.”
The tamago was not made to order. Yamamoto placed a piece of tamago sushi on each tray together with soy sauce and pickled ginger.
“We only serve one piece of tamago per customer. Many people ask for more, but there’s a limit to how much we can make in a day. Some customers arrive late and don’t get any at all.”
Hearing that alone was enough to sharpen their anticipation.
Jo Minjoon looked at the sushi.
[Egg Sushi]
Freshness: 93%
Origin: (Hidden because there are too many ingredients)
Quality: High
Cooking Score: 8/10
The score was the same as the one he had seen from outside. But seeing the sushi up close made its craftsmanship far more striking. The cut surface was smooth and moist, almost as though it had been measured with a ruler, while the exterior had a beautiful brown colour like a perfectly baked castella. Even the browned surface was not rough, but smooth and delicate.
(Translator’s Note: Castella — A Japanese sponge cake descended from Portuguese cakes introduced by traders and missionaries in the sixteenth century, particularly after Portuguese contact with Japan began in 1543. It later became especially associated with Nagasaki.)
Jo Minjoon murmured, “It almost looks like castella.”
“When making tamagoyaki, if you keep the temperature of the pan perfectly even, the outside of the egg cooks smoothly as well. For this one, we use a pan that has been heated slowly over a straw fire.”
Jo Minjoon put the sushi into his mouth.
There was no dramatic explosion of flavour the instant it touched his tongue. Instead, when the egg was gently crushed between the roof of his mouth, his teeth, and his tongue, its moisture slowly spread across his palate.
[You have acquired Yamamoto’s Egg Sushi Recipe!]
This flavour……is insane.
It was so stimulating that he barely even registered the system notification.
Yamamoto, meanwhile, was watching the way Jo Minjoon and Rachel ate. Jo Minjoon had placed the egg directly against his tongue, while Rachel tilted the sushi slightly so that both the egg and rice touched her tongue at the same time.
Yamamoto spoke calmly.
“Miss Rachel, you’re the type who tries to examine every part of a flavour precisely.”
“Because I tilted it?”
“Yes. People who want to experience every element of a piece of sushi tend to eat it that way. On the other hand, people who want to immerse themselves in one flavour at a time often eat it the way Mr. Minjoon did.”
“You’re an interesting man. In return, may I analyse your tamagoyaki?”
“And by analyse, you mean……?”
Yamamoto looked towards Jo Minjoon with interest.
Jo Minjoon smiled faintly.
“I was wondering whether I could identify what went into it. The two of us are chefs, actually.”
“I knew that from the beginning. The scars on your hands are a chef’s scars. Guessing the ingredients…… If it entertains the customer, I’m willing to indulge almost anything. But this one will be rather difficult.”
A confident smile appeared on Yamamoto’s face.
Many people had tried to deduce how he made this tamagoyaki. Some had even returned to the restaurant day after day for months, ordering their single permitted piece each time.
There was no way this young man could understand the recipe after a single bite.
At least, that was what Yamamoto thought.
But only moments later, his eyes began to shake.
“Oil and stock. Those seem to be the first two things that differ from ordinary versions.”
He had identified them immediately.
Yamamoto did not show his surprise and replied calmly.
“If you’re looking for differences in tamagoyaki, those would naturally be the first things to consider. That much is rather obvious……”
“Yes. Perhaps it is. Then may I go deeper?”
Yamamoto hesitated.
For a moment, he felt as though agreeing might cause the techniques he had refined over decades to be stripped bare in an instant. But that was ridiculous. No matter how sensitive someone’s palate was, there was no way they could reconstruct an entire method from a single taste.
He steadied himself.
“Go as far as you can.”
“Chestnut oil and pine-nut oil.”
Jo Minjoon answered immediately.
Yamamoto’s expression hardened.
Jo Minjoon continued calmly.
“The ratio is nine parts pine-nut oil to one part chestnut oil. You mixed the two and cooked the egg in that oil. For each beaten egg, you added……about half a spoonful of stock. Should I tell you what’s in the stock as well?”
Yamamoto could not answer immediately.
No, he did not even have the presence of mind to.
Recognising the aromas of chestnut oil and pine-nut oil was one thing. Those fragrances could be distinctive enough for a sensitive palate to notice. But identifying the exact ratio, and even the amount of stock used per egg, was beyond anything he could imagine.
Yamamoto glanced around and spoke in a trembling voice.
“Is this……some kind of hidden-camera prank?”
“No. It’s just an ordinary travel and restaurant programme.”
“Then how……? This makes no sense.”
“He has an absolute sense of taste.”
Rachel answered calmly.
Yamamoto looked between Rachel and Jo Minjoon with wide eyes.
“He can tell everything that goes into whatever he eats? Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. This boy is rather famous in America. I believe he’s also well known in his neighbouring country, Korea.”
It did not take long for the confusion on Yamamoto’s face to turn into expectation and excitement.
There was no reason not to believe her. If it were a lie, how could Jo Minjoon possibly have identified the recipe so easily?
Rather than anger, Yamamoto felt his chest heating with excitement.
A painter needed someone capable of understanding a painting. In the same way, a chef wanted someone capable of tasting a dish precisely enough to understand it.
Yamamoto leaned forward slightly.
“If that’s really true……can you tell me what my tamago sushi made you feel?”
“It was delicious. I can tell you that much with certainty. It was good enough to make me wonder whether there could be sushi better than this. The texture was interesting, maybe because the grains of rice were pressed so evenly……and the egg was incredibly soft and moist, almost like castella soaked through with egg. It was excellent sushi. Honestly, I want to eat the next piece as soon as possible……”
“Ah, yes. Of course. But before that, eat a piece of ginger.”
“Do you mean this?”
Jo Minjoon looked towards the thin slices of ginger arranged on a small dish.
Yamamoto nodded.
“It’s simmered ginger made to weaken the flavours remaining in your mouth while strengthening the fragrance of the ginger itself. If you eat sushi after that, the next piece will taste completely different.”
Jo Minjoon and Rachel each picked up a slice and ate it.
Rachel looked impressed.
“It goes beyond simply clearing away the previous flavour. Only a faint elegance remains, and the sweetness and sourness in my mouth have been cleaned away.”
“That’s not all. The vinegar isn’t ordinary either. Sudachi. There’s sudachi juice in this. And not fully ripe sudachi……slightly underripe, so the flavour is sharper. Am I wrong?”
The corners of Yamamoto’s mouth trembled upwards.
He had already abandoned most of his doubts, but hearing Jo Minjoon speak like this made his certainty deepen even further.
Identifying sudachi itself was understandable.
But how could he tell that the fruit had not been fully ripe?
Yamamoto had deliberately used slightly underripe sudachi precisely because of the difference in flavour. Jo Minjoon identifying even that detail sent goosebumps across his skin.
I shouldn’t think this about a customer……but a monster has walked into my kitchen.
It felt so unreal that Yamamoto briefly wondered whether the young man might be some kind of supernatural creature.
But even if this were a dream, it was an enjoyable one.
He wanted the opinion of this monster with an absolute sense of taste.
“There are many conditions required for good sushi. Fish suited to the season, ingredient quality, careful preparation, precise knife work, good rice, and properly grated wasabi. Would you like to try this wasabi?”
A tiny amount, no larger than a grain, was placed on each of their plates.
Jo Minjoon and Rachel put it into their mouths while bracing themselves for the sharp heat.
Jo Minjoon’s eyes widened.
It was sweet.
It was unmistakably wasabi, yet for an instant it felt almost as though he had put sweetened cream into his mouth. Only after that did the familiar sharp pungency rise and sting his nose, but the shock of that initial sweetness remained stronger.
“The wasabi……is sweet. How?”
“Judging by that reaction, you probably haven’t been to many truly good sushi restaurants. Industrial wasabi and freshly prepared wasabi are completely different. Some restaurants even mix rice flour, starch, and other ingredients into their wasabi. But high-quality wasabi can produce a deep flavour like this simply from being grated properly. Of course……”
Yamamoto lifted a grater.
Its rough surface looked almost like textured hide. He placed a piece of wasabi against it and slowly moved it in clockwise circles. The wasabi turned into a fine paste almost silently.
“The direction and pressure used when grating it matter as well. Once you damage the structure too much, the aroma scatters.”
“……Can something that simple really change the flavour that much?”
“Look at people’s faces. If the eyes were longer by even the width of a grain of rice, the whole expression would change. Wasabi and sushi are the same. If you don’t mind, may I choose your next pieces for you?”
“Ah, yes. Please do.”
As soon as Yamamoto received permission, he took out a piece of tuna. One side was blackened as though it had been exposed directly to flame, while the flesh on the other remained almost raw, as though it had only been touched by smoke.
“This is tuna seared over straw fire, the way it was prepared in the Edo period. Tuna contains a lot of blood, so it can be difficult to remove its fishy smell entirely. We use the fragrance of straw smoke to control that aroma.”
(Translator’s Note: Edo period —The period of Japanese history from 1603 to 1868, governed by the Tokugawa shogunate. Modern Edomae sushi developed in Edo, present-day Tokyo, during the early nineteenth century, using techniques such as curing, simmering, marinating, and searing seafood.)
Yamamoto’s sashimi knife moved calmly through the tuna.
(Translator’s Note: Sashimi —A Japanese preparation of thinly sliced raw seafood or meat, normally served without rice)
The blade was so sharp that even the delicate outer surface, which looked ready to crumble, remained intact. The knife passed through the flesh without resistance, as though cutting butter.
What followed seemed simple.
Yamamoto moistened his hands, shaped the rice into a gentle arc, spread wasabi across the tuna, and pressed the fish and rice together into an elegant fan-like piece of sushi.
……Eight points.
Jo Minjoon had thought perhaps only the tamago would reach that level, but apparently not.
Perhaps because this piece had undergone an additional cooking process through the straw fire, it had more opportunities for its score to rise.
Jo Minjoon reached towards the sushi.
Yamamoto shook his head.
“Not yet. You need to wait until the temperature of the rice and fish become closer to each other. Temperature is extremely important. That’s one reason someone eating sushi directly in front of the chef can experience a different flavour from someone receiving a platter in the dining room, even if the sushi itself is technically the same. Personally, I find assorted sushi platters frustrating for exactly that reason. Once you prepare everything at once, it becomes impossible to experience each piece at its best. Ah, now you can eat it. Personally, I recommend placing it in your mouth with the rice facing downwards. It takes a little more care, but it lets you feel the flavours more clearly.”
Jo Minjoon extended his hand.
Perhaps Yamamoto had noticed that he was right-handed, because the sushi had been angled perfectly for him to pick up comfortably.
He placed it into his mouth.
The soy sauce touching the rice spread first across his tongue, followed immediately by the smoked tuna and the lightly charred surface of the fish, releasing several different flavours at once. Then came the sweet yet pungent wasabi and the distinctive flavour of the seasoned rice.
For one bite, there seemed to be an astonishing number of flavours layered together.
Its cooking score was 8.
But the experience did not feel like a simple eight-point dish.
Is this……the strength of a master who has spent his entire life on a single field?
Jo Minjoon had wondered about this many times.
On one side were Western-style head chefs who no longer personally handled every pan but instead controlled the overall flow of an entire kitchen. On the other were craftsmen who spent their whole lives specialising in one thing—kalguksu or gukbap in Korea, udon or ramen in Japan, and countless other single-speciality dishes.
(Translator’s Note: Kalguksu —A Korean dish of wheat-flour noodles rolled flat and cut by knife, usually served in broth. Wheat noodles were historically more expensive than rice-based staples, and kalguksu became more widespread as wheat became increasingly available in Korea during the twentieth century.)
(Translator’s Note: Gukbap —A broad Korean category in which rice is served with or directly in hot soup. Regional forms developed around markets, transport centres, and local specialities over centuries.)
Which of them could produce the more ideal flavour?
At one point, Jo Minjoon had believed the latter would naturally be superior. Even if someone managed a kitchen as head chef, he had thought it would be difficult to fully express their abilities without personally handling the food.
His thinking had changed after meeting Rachel.
She had shown him that as long as a true head chef stood at the centre of the kitchen, every cook within it could effectively become an extension of that chef’s hands.
And yet Yamamoto’s sushi forced the question back into his mind.
Yamamoto’s cooking level was only 7.
But when it came specifically to sushi, surely that number was not enough to describe him.
Eight.
Perhaps even nine.
His knife work, his handling of fire, his treatment of ingredients, his shaping of rice, his preparation of wasabi—each required an extraordinary degree of delicacy and control.
It was an art into which an entire lifetime had been poured.
If I could make all of that mine……
Greed left him ravenous.