Chapter 152: Global & Local (2)
Chapter 152: Global & Local (2)
He had identified the origin correctly. No—perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he had identified the way the cattle had been raised. Still, it was not necessarily an impossible feat. Even without Jo Minjoon’s ability, plenty of people could distinguish Kobe beef from Matsusaka beef after tasting them. Someone truly knowledgeable about Japanese beef might even be able to guess the breed simply by looking at the meat.
But even those people—could they still identify it correctly when the beef was hidden inside a dumpling? The flavour would mingle with the other ingredients, and it would be difficult even to tell whether the moisture came from the beef fat or from the stock.
Samuel opened his mouth. “That’s… right. We recently changed the beef in the dumplings to Matsusaka beef. I haven’t had time to correct the menu yet, and I was about to explain it to you… But you actually got it right. Even when it was inside a dumpling… It seems your reputation wasn’t exaggerated.” His voice was visibly unsteady.
It was not as though Samuel had never heard of Jo Minjoon. If you spoke English and worked in the culinary world, it was difficult not to know his name unless you were an elderly chef who had long since retired.
Still, seeing him through a broadcast and witnessing him in person were entirely different experiences. All the more so when his absolute taste was demonstrated right in front of you.
[At this point, it isn’t even surprising anymore.]
[How many times has he done this now? He even figured out the beef brisket inside a tofu pouch. How surprising can this be?]
[But isn’t Matsusaka beef better than Kobe?]
[It’s more expensive.]
The chat immediately began scrolling after Samuel admitted it.
Sera, who had been reading the comments, sighed and shook her head. “I still can’t get used to it no matter how many times I see it. Seriously, how do you distinguish the marbling of meat? And when it’s inside a dumpling?”
“The thing is, I ate beef from a lot of different regions yesterday.”
“…Normally, tasting something once still isn’t enough to distinguish it.” Sera answered dejectedly at Jo Minjoon’s matter-of-fact reply.
Jo Minjoon smiled brightly and looked towards Samuel. It was not that he had spoken merely to show off his absolute taste.
“Is there a reason you use Matsusaka beef instead of Kobe?”
“It’s because of the difference in flavour you just noticed. How was the dumpling?”
“Moist… It felt like I was drinking a fresh soup in the shape of a dumpling. Ah, is that because of the oil released from the fat?”
“That oil does make it smoother, yes. But that isn’t the biggest reason. It’s the texture of the meat.”
At Samuel’s words, Jo Minjoon silently ate another dumpling. You might wonder what sort of texture there could be in finely chopped meat, but he could clearly feel the beef breaking apart and crumbling between his teeth. Jo Minjoon looked impressed.
“Now that you mention it… it feels almost like tofu made from beef.”
“That’s an amusing description. Tofu made from beef.”
While Samuel and Jo Minjoon were talking, the servers approached and placed something resembling sandwiches on the table. They were roughly the same size as the dumplings they had just eaten. Sera looked confused.
“Did we order this? I don’t think we did.”
“It’s a complimentary dish for our honoured guests… Though calling it complimentary somehow doesn’t sound quite right. I’ll be honest. It’s really just me showing off while pretending to be generous. This is the best item in our restaurant.”
“Earlier, you said everything was about the same.”
“People change their minds whenever they feel like it.” His answer was so shameless that there was little point arguing. Seeing Sera force a laugh, Samuel smiled confidently. “Actually, this dish can’t be ordered without a reservation, so I made one under my own name. Which means this one is on me, Samuel King. My dream is to destroy the viewers’ desire to diet and fill the world with obese people.”
“…Can someone even have such a twisted dream?”
[There are always people whose screws are loose in strange places.]
[They say there’s only a paper-thin difference between a genius and an idiot.]
Jeremy paid no attention to either the chat or the conversation. His focus was entirely on the bread.
“Is this naan? No. If it were, there’s no way it would turn out like this…”
(Translator’s Note: naan — A type of flatbread, traditionally associated with South and Central Asian cuisine. It is usually made from wheat flour and cooked in a very hot oven, often a tandoor, giving it a soft, chewy texture with browned or blistered spots.)
“It’s a bun. It isn’t that different from a dumpling wrapper.”
Even with Samuel calling it a bun, it still looked to them like nothing more than a piece of flour dough. Jo Minjoon slowly lifted it. Thick strips of samgyeopsal were tucked between the buns, with vegetables covered in a red sauce layered on top. The fragrance of the vegetables blended perfectly with the aroma of curry.
Japanese curry. The score… nine points.
He had expected the restaurant’s signature dish to be worth ten points, but it was not. Still, he did not feel disappointed. There was no rule saying that a nine-point dish had to taste worse than a ten-point one.
Jo Minjoon looked at Samuel. “How are we supposed to eat this?”
“Yes?”
“What’s the best way to eat it? All at once? Or in smaller bites?”
“That depends on what you want. If you want to eat it while analysing the dish, smaller bites would probably be better. Not only would you get to taste it several times, you’d also be able to appreciate the subtle differences between the different parts of the samgyeopsal. But if you simply want to enjoy the flavour as a whole, eat it in one bite.”
“…It’s a shame there’s only one.”
“Haha. That regret will intensify the flavour. You already know that much. More importantly, I’m having some financial difficulties.”
“Then I’ll enjoy it.” Jo Minjoon smirked at Samuel’s joke and bit into the bun.
Its texture was unusual. Perhaps because the dough had been steamed rather than baked or fried, it had a faint chewiness somewhere between bread and rice cake. It was almost as though someone had taken pizza dough, removed every rough or crisp element, and kept only the softest part.
At first, all he tasted was flour. Even when he bit into the samgyeopsal, the juices did not immediately reach him. But then, at some point, the bun absorbed the saliva and stock and clung softly to the samgyeopsal like skin. As the bun tore apart between his teeth, the peculiar, mellow flavour of pork that had been cooked for a long time spread through his mouth.
“Mm…” Jo Minjoon closed his eyes and let out a pleased moan. His satisfied smile rounded his cheeks.
Was this what it would feel like to eat the most delicious sandwich in the world? The flavours of the grated vegetables mixed into the curry spread across his tongue, while the samgyeopsal itself was so tender that it seemed to dissolve into stock.
Jo Minjoon glared at Samuel with resentful eyes. “…Giving someone only one bite of something this delicious. That’s generous and cruel at the same time.”
“Hoho. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“If you were a woman, Samuel, I would’ve confessed to you already.”
[He says things like that when he has Kaya.]
[He was born with it. Look at him throwing that gaze at a man…]
[Maybe he does it to Anderson too… No. Forget I said anything.]
“…You’re going to give me indigestion. Take it easy.” Jo Minjoon frowned as he glanced at the chat.
[I’ve already had indigestion more than ten times because of the things you say.]
Seeing that, he could no longer maintain his frown. Truthfully, there were times when even he found his own words difficult to deal with.
…What would Kaya have thought if she ate this? The thought came to him naturally. No, calling it sudden would not be right.
Kaya. Tasting level ten.
He wanted to know how her tongue perceived flavour. He wanted to make that ability his own. If only he could do that…
“Minjoon.”
“Uh. Huh?”
“What did you feel when you ate this?” At Anderson’s abrupt question, Jo Minjoon looked at him blankly. Anderson touched one ear and continued. “Well, I was just curious. About how you approach food.”
At that moment, a thought occurred to Jo Minjoon. Perhaps, just as Jo Minjoon admired Kaya as a taster, Anderson wanted something similar from him.
Maybe that was only natural. Anderson was always beside him. It made sense that he would pay attention to someone he admired—someone who had the eyes of the entire world on him. Even if it was Anderson, Jo Minjoon thought he would inevitably become conscious of him and try to analyse the way he thought.
The problem was…
My tasting level is the same as yours.
In fact, since Jo Minjoon had only reached tasting level eight after Anderson, his actual ability might still be lower. He did not want to give some careless evaluation and send Anderson in the wrong direction. He might not say it openly, but he genuinely considered Anderson a friend.
“I… focused on the texture of the bun. Honestly, steaming the samgyeopsal itself isn’t particularly unusual. What caught my attention was that there had to be a reason they steamed the bun too. At first I thought it would be about the flavour, but once I ate it, I realised the texture was more important. That moist feeling—the way it clings softly to the samgyeopsal, almost like another layer of fat… Doesn’t it feel a little like a curry-sauce hot dog?”
“Mm. Fine, let’s say that explains the texture. What about everything else?”
“…I saw a vague path.”
“A path?”
Jo Minjoon’s eyes lost focus. His gaze lowered towards Anderson’s chest, but there was obviously no way he was actually looking at it. His eyes were following something invisible.
“An encounter between countries and cultures. An exchange. Think about it. How much culture has to be embedded in a dish for that food to come into existence? The ingredients produced in a region, the cooking methods, the historical circumstances… all of that goes into it. And then those things meet the food of another country and mix together…” Jo Minjoon’s cheeks reddened. His tongue slipped out briefly to wet his lips before disappearing again. Then he continued, his voice sounding almost like a moan or a groan. “Isn’t that… incredibly romantic?”
Simply putting the thought into words made his heart pound. A new style of cooking always left him flustered. It felt similar to moving into a new house—one larger and more beautiful than the last.
Perhaps every chef experienced something like that. But maybe because Jo Minjoon had spent so long dreaming of this sort of thing, a moment that might seem trivial to someone else felt overwhelmingly precious and beautiful to him.
Of course, the others had no way of knowing his circumstances. At least, the viewers watching the live broadcast did not.
[Are all geniuses like that? His brain feels completely different from ours.]
[Maybe it’s not because he’s a genius. Maybe he’s just weird.]
[One thing is certain… this is the first time I’ve ever found a man talking nonsense while eating sexy.]
Anderson simply watched Jo Minjoon. The emotions behind his trembling brows and lips were too obvious to miss. He was savouring everything the dish had made him feel and displaying those emotions without trying to hide or embellish them.
He even understood what the chat was saying.
Jo Minjoon was strange, certainly, but Anderson wanted to follow him. He had no intention of imitating Jo Minjoon and causing some ridiculous incident, but he wanted to understand the world from the same perspective Jo Minjoon did.
Anderson slowly spoke. “The first day I met you, I didn’t know you were this special.”
“…Am I?”
“If you don’t like the word special, should I just say you’ve got a few screws loose?”
Although Anderson phrased it like a joke, his eyes remained fixed intensely on Jo Minjoon.
What would have happened if Anderson had said those same things? Would the viewers have reacted this way? Probably not. A few might have called it the eccentricity of a peculiar chef, but most would likely have dismissed it as simple nonsense.
With Jo Minjoon, however, it was different.
Even if he said exactly the same words, people assumed there had to be some meaning behind them simply because they came from him. Anderson himself was doing the same thing now. Whatever else might be uncertain, Jo Minjoon could identify every vegetable that had gone into the curry. No one would easily dismiss the words of someone like that as meaningless rambling.
After a moment, Emily spoke. “So, putting what you just said into simpler terms, you’re saying there’s something fascinating about the combinations that happen when local food and global food come together, right?”
“Yes. I really like combinations like this. Maybe I feel even more attached to them because this might become the path I walk in the future. Rather than digging one deep well, I think there’s something more appealing about bringing several different things together.” Jo Minjoon spoke with a composed smile.
Recently, the path he needed to follow had begun to feel clearer. What kind of food he wanted to make. What kinds of paths existed in the world.
Jo Minjoon clenched his fists beneath the table as his determination hardened. Anderson watched him, his own resolve beginning to burn as well.
Sera looked between the two of them, then quietly whispered into Jeremy’s ear. “He didn’t seduce both Kaya and Anderson just because he didn’t want to stick to only one well, did he?”