Chapter 148: The Hands of a Master (5)
Chapter 148: The Hands of a Master (5)
Even if the world is full of extraordinary people……
Jo Minjoon had never imagined he would encounter someone with Cooking Level 9 this suddenly.
An elderly man in the kitchen slowly approached them. His hair had been shaved close, the remaining black and white strands blending into grey, while the wrinkles beside his mouth gave him a stubborn, severe appearance.
“You customers?”
He spoke in Japanese.
The guide stepped forward to translate, but when the man saw that they did not answer, he seemed to realise the problem. Smooth English followed almost immediately, his pronunciation and accent far more natural than Yamamoto’s had been.
“You don’t speak Japanese. Can you speak English?”
“Ah, yes. Your English is very good.”
“So, which of you are customers, and which aren’t?”
Higashino’s gaze passed over Jo Minjoon and Rachel before moving towards the production staff.
Neither Jo Minjoon nor Rachel knew quite how to answer that. Martin looked around. The restaurant was not particularly large, but there was still enough room to accommodate all of them.
“We’re all customers. Would it be all right if the cameras came in too?”
“I don’t care, as long as you don’t make a fuss.”
Higashino answered bluntly.
It was hardly the friendliest way to treat customers, but perhaps because Jo Minjoon had already seen his Cooking Level, he found the attitude strangely acceptable.
Jo Minjoon pulled his stool closer to the counter in front of Higashino.
“You don’t have a menu?”
“No. If there’s something you want, tell me. If I have the ingredients, I’ll make it.”
“……Anything?”
Rachel looked genuinely perplexed. She had visited countless high-end restaurants over the course of her life, but this was the first time she had seen a place leave the menu entirely up to the customer.
Jo Minjoon slowly spoke.
“Katsudon.”
Katsudon. Tonkatsu over rice.
It was not a dish he particularly liked. He did not dislike rice bowls such as gyūdon or oyakodon, and he liked tonkatsu itself. But katsudon was another matter.
(Translator’s Note: Katsudon — A rice bowl topped with tonkatsu, onion, and egg simmered in a seasoned sauce. The dish developed in Japan in the early twentieth century, with several restaurants claiming versions of its invention during the 1910s–1920s.)
(Translator’s Note: Tonkatsu — Breaded and deep-fried pork cutlet. It developed in Japan during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries as part of yōshoku, Japanese adaptations of Western-style cuisine.)
(Translator’s Note: Gyūdon —A Japanese rice bowl topped with thinly sliced beef and onions cooked in a sweet-savoury soy-based sauce. Precursors became popular during the Meiji era (1868–1912), when beef consumption expanded in Japan.)
(Translator’s Note: Oyakodon —A rice bowl topped with chicken and egg, the name humorously referring to the parent and offspring being served together. The dish is commonly traced to Tokyo in the late nineteenth century, with Tamahide traditionally associated with its popularisation.)
The reason was simple. Among rice bowls topped with cooked ingredients, katsudon was one of the most difficult to make properly. The fried pork had to retain some crispness even after being combined with sauce and egg. That sounded simple enough when put into words, but actually achieving it required considerable skill.
Jo Minjoon had never found a restaurant that handled it perfectly. Even in Japan, judging from what he had seen through restaurant windows, he had never encountered katsudon with a Cooking Score above 6.
Higashino merely nodded and turned towards Rachel.
Rachel looked unsure for a moment, touching her chin before finally deciding.
“Grilled Atka mackerel. And kochi. Chicken hearts, meatballs……and several other things besides.”
Higashino continued taking orders from the others.
Some asked for hamburgers. Others asked for pasta. He rejected no one.
Jo Minjoon swallowed.
Now he understood why Yamamoto had struggled to describe what kind of restaurant this was.
After taking orders from more than ten people, Higashino returned to the kitchen and began cooking.
There were not even ten burners.
Yet he never hurried.
He set water and oil to heat, warmed frying pans, sliced vegetables, and moved steadily from task to task.
There were no assistants.
That alone was extraordinary.
The restaurant had happened to be empty when they arrived, but surely there were times when every seat was occupied. Even now, Higashino was cooking for more than ten people completely by himself.
And every order is different……
Jo Minjoon stared at him.
Higashino’s work was strange.
A normal chef faced with this many different orders could probably handle three dishes simultaneously before things began tangling together in his head.
Higashino was different.
His hands were not moving so fast that they became difficult to follow.
They simply never stopped.
He prepared every ingredient required for every order, moved between stations without hesitation, and wasted almost no time anywhere.
“Impossible……”
Jo Minjoon watched him as though he were seeing something unreal.
If Rachel represented the pinnacle of controlling an organised kitchen, then Higashino was displaying something entirely different: the astonishing completeness of a one-man kitchen.
If a person like this was Level 9……
What kind of existence would a Level 10 chef be?
Before long, a bowl of katsudon was placed in front of Jo Minjoon.
[Katsudon]
Freshness: 97%
Origin: (Hidden because there are too many ingredients)
Quality: High
Cooking Score: 9/10
Jo Minjoon could understand why the score was 9.
Katsudon involved quite a few separate processes for what was ultimately a rice bowl, which gave the cook plenty of opportunities to improve or ruin the final result.
But what mattered now was the flavour.
Nervously, Jo Minjoon lifted his spoon.
Higashino’s katsudon immediately felt different from ordinary versions.
First, the rice itself had a brown colour, almost as if it had been soaked in soy sauce. At a glance, it even reminded him slightly of nasi goreng. Yet the texture was completely different. It was not dry or firm, but soft and sticky, blending beautifully with the egg and onions covering it.
The tonkatsu surprised him even more.
It was crisp.
But not with the hard, brittle crispness of ordinary fried pork. It was closer to a biscuit-like texture—crisp without being tough, giving way softly each time he bit through it. If it had not been moistened by the sauce, it might have felt too hard.
This flavour……
Jo Minjoon’s eyes widened.
This time, he ate only the tonkatsu.
The flavour released from the coating with every bite was familiar somehow.
Then he realised what it was.
Nine points.
The system did not reveal the recipe, but perhaps because the flavour was so distinct, he felt he could understand this part even without its help.
Jo Minjoon looked towards Higashino.
“The batter……did you use water infused with spring onions?”
“……You have a very sensitive tongue.”
Higashino looked at him strangely.
A pleasant shiver ran down Jo Minjoon’s spine.
There were several reasons.
The katsudon itself was delicious.
He had identified the secret of the coating without relying on the system.
And above all……
So cooking can reach this level……
It felt as though the world had suddenly become larger.
Rachel was watching Higashino with curious eyes.
“You look strangely familiar…… Have we met before?”
“No. But I know you. Rachel Rose. I thought you’d retired.”
At Higashino’s calm answer, Rachel widened her eyes in surprise, then smiled faintly.
“Well, I was rather famous once. But the problem is that I feel as though I’ve seen you too.”
“I worked at the Japanese embassy for a while. Perhaps you……”
“The Japanese embassy! Of course. I thought someone capable of producing flavours like this couldn’t have had an ordinary career. Maybe we crossed paths back then.”
“Your fish will get worse if you let it cool.”
“Still as difficult as ever……”
Even when Rachel tried to greet him warmly, Higashino answered with the same bluntness, making it difficult to continue the conversation.
Looking dissatisfied, Rachel put some grilled fish into her mouth.
Then she glanced sideways.
Jo Minjoon was staring at her mackerel with burning eyes.
“Why? Do you want some?”
“……No. I shouldn’t. I’m already full…… Finishing the katsudon is probably going to be my limit.”
To be honest, part of him was considering going to the toilet, emptying his stomach, and coming back to eat everything again.
But even he knew he could not do that.
Jo Minjoon looked around.
A hamburger, tomato pasta, grilled salted mackerel, tofu in soy sauce, even ordinary Vienna sausages—everything looked delicious.
That was only natural.
The dishes did not have elaborate sculptural presentation like Rachel’s food.
They were simply flawless.
The tofu was perfectly smooth and completely intact. The sausages and grilled fish bore simple but precise knife marks placed exactly where they needed to be.
Nothing was excessive.
Nothing was lacking.
The presentation stimulated the appetite with almost frightening precision.
Even the pale soy sauce spreading across one fish dish looked as though a painter had deliberately dropped pigment onto a canvas.
“A while ago……during the semifinals, when it was just me, Kaya, Anderson, and Chloe, we talked about what kind of restaurants we wanted to run.”
“And what kind did you want?”
“One like this. Quiet and comfortable. A place where customers come in, tell me what they want, and if I can make it, I do. But honestly……even though I want something like that, it isn’t my dream.”
“Why not?”
“Because it isn’t realistic for me. This restaurant is amazing, but I think it only works because Mr. Higashino’s skills are extraordinary. Reaching this level would take decades. And I’m greedy. Really greedy. I want to cook every rare and precious ingredient in the world using the best equipment possible. I don’t want to work in a silent countryside kitchen. I want a kitchen filled with people, crowded like a city. Maybe that isn’t the right kind of greed for a chef. Maybe I should focus only on handling whatever ingredient is in front of me as perfectly as Mr. Higashino does……”
Jo Minjoon looked down at the fist wrapped around his spoon.
His eyes trembled slightly.
“But I can’t do anything about this impatience. I want to walk faster. Farther, if I can. Is that a bad way to think?”
Rachel reached out with a regretful expression and placed her hand on his back.
Her palm slowly stroked him.
“What do you think of me?”
“Yes?”
“What do you think my dream is? As a chef.”
“……To restore Rose Island to what it was when your husband was alive?”
“Then tell me. Am I calm, or am I impatient?”
Jo Minjoon could not answer immediately.
He hesitated to judge his teacher’s feelings however he pleased.
But Rachel’s eyes quietly urged him to answer.
In the end, he spoke.
“Are you……in a hurry?”
“Yes. Very.”
Rachel answered simply.
She had age weighing on her as well.
Being in one’s sixties was not especially old anymore, but no one knew when illness might appear. Perhaps it was an unnecessary fear, but she could not completely suppress it.
One day faster.
She wanted to restore what had existed back then as quickly as she could.
“But I don’t dislike my impatience. Every day that passes leaves me with regret, and that regret reminds me how valuable tomorrow is. So don’t blame yourself for being impatient. You may feel as though that anxiety will swallow you……but sometimes it can become the very thing that feeds you.”
“……Thank you, Teacher. Hearing that really does make me feel better.”
“You’re an impressive young man. And one day, you’ll become an impressive chef too.”
“But Teacher……”
Jo Minjoon opened his mouth, then stopped.
There was something he wanted to say.
But looking at Rachel’s warm expression, he found it difficult.
His lips closed.
When he finally opened them again, the words that came out were not the ones he had originally intended to say.
“My stomach is giving me a warning. I need to empty it a little. Then maybe I’ll have room to eat more.”
“……Aren’t you overdoing it? You can simply rest.”
“No. These dishes make me want to eat them even if I have to go that far. I’ll be back.”
Jo Minjoon left.
Rachel silently put another piece of fish into her mouth.
Each time her teeth pressed into it, a rich bloody flavour burst out almost explosively.
She smiled faintly and looked towards Higashino.
“It’s excellent. Thank you.”
“I think you have a very interesting disciple.”
“Interesting……yes, he is. You saw how he identified the spring-onion-infused water, didn’t you? He’s that sensitive. No, it goes beyond sensitivity. If he really concentrates, he can probably identify almost everything that goes into a dish.”
Anyone hearing that for the first time would normally have been startled.
Higashino’s expression did not change at all.
Rachel looked at him strangely.
“Aren’t you surprised? Did you already know? Or do you not believe me?”
“There’s no reason for someone of your standing to make up a story like that just to tease an old man. I believe you. But no, I didn’t know.”
“Then you’re remarkably calm about it.”
“Because it isn’t something worth being shocked over.”
Rachel looked mildly disappointed by his blunt response.
Perhaps she had begun enjoying the reactions people gave whenever they learned about Jo Minjoon’s ability, even though it was not her own talent.
“Why not? Someone with senses far beyond the ordinary ate your food. Wouldn’t it be natural to become curious about his opinion?”
“It’s useful. An absolute palate makes him an interesting customer. But in the end, he is still a customer. He isn’t that special.”
“How is he not? He can evaluate your food with more precision and objectivity than almost anyone.”
“And what does that change? If that young man says my food isn’t delicious, does that mean I’ve been feeding bad food to every customer who has visited this place all these years?”
“Of course not. But he can perceive flavour with greater precision, almost on a different level from ordinary people.”
“There is nothing absolute in food. There is no higher or lower either. Someone like you should understand that perfectly well.”
Higashino’s narrow eyes moved towards Rachel.
There was complete certainty in them.
But Rachel possessed certainty of her own.
Because she had known someone who seemed to inhabit an entirely different culinary world.
Her husband.
If Higashino had stood beside Daniel and watched him cook……
Perhaps he would not be saying the same thing.
“No. There are higher and lower levels. At least, that’s what I believe.”
“What is it that drives that inferiority complex of yours?”
At the words inferiority complex, Rachel’s eyes sharpened instantly.
Higashino sighed and shook his head.
“That was too harsh.”
“……It’s fine. Instead, answer something for me. Why did you open a restaurant like this?”
Higashino said nothing for a moment.
He merely looked at Rachel.
He could have refused to answer.
Yet for some reason, he found himself unable to leave the question alone.
Eventually, he spoke.
“At some point, cooking began to feel like homework. I hated that. I liked cooking, and if you truly like cooking, then you should be able to play with it and enjoy it. That’s why I opened this restaurant.”
“I can’t do that.”
Rachel answered immediately.
The conviction in her eyes was so strong that even Higashino flinched slightly.
“The homework you abandoned without solving……”
Rachel’s gaze slowly shifted.
Jo Minjoon was coming back from the toilet.
A warm smile appeared on her lips.
“I intend to solve it.”
Her eyes rested on him.
“Together with that child.”