Chapter 157: The Reason They Are Hungry (1)
Chapter 157: The Reason They Are Hungry (1)
The live broadcast was over. The final message left in the chat window read:
[I’m hungry.]
The meal was over, and so was the competition. Just as the staff and production crew were preparing to leave the room, Samuel approached Rachel with a serious expression.
“Rachel. If it’s all right… could we speak in private?”
“I don’t mind, but…” Rachel turned towards Martin.
Martin nodded, indicating that it was fine.
Samuel’s expression brightened slightly. “I won’t take much of your time. Please come this way. I’ll show you.”
Samuel led Rachel into the empty room next door. Rachel casually walked over and sat down in a chair. Samuel took the seat beside her but remained silent.
Was it really that difficult to bring up?
His clasped hands were trembling, and his tongue repeatedly passed over his lips.
Eventually, Rachel spoke first. “If you keep sitting there silently, your promise not to take much of my time is going to become a lie.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure how to begin…”
“I’ll help you. First, what is it you want to say? Is it a question? A request? Or is there simply something you need to tell me?”
“…If I had to classify it, I’d say it’s a question. At the same time, it’s also a request. My restaurant… how was it?”
“You looked so serious that I wondered what this was about, but didn’t you already ask me that during the broadcast?”
“I wanted to know what your answer would be when there were no cameras around.” Samuel’s eyes were serious.
Rachel looked at him as though she could not understand. “Samuel. You’re the head chef of a three-star restaurant. You’ve reached a summit that chefs around the world dream of reaching. Why do you care this much about something as trivial as my opinion?”
“…Not all head chefs of three-star restaurants are the same. If you were an ordinary chef, I wouldn’t be asking you this. I wouldn’t want to show you this kind of weakness. But you’re Rachel Rose. Together with Daniel Rose, you’re a legend and an idol to every chef working in Western cuisine. And I have at least one foot in the same world as those chefs.”
Rachel’s gaze trembled at the mention of Daniel. She let out a sigh before answering. “It would have been better if I hadn’t heard that. All you’ve done is tell me that whatever I say will have an enormous effect on you. This is the first time I’ve visited your restaurant, and I haven’t even tried everything on your menu.”
“I know. And I have enough judgement to know which advice I should accept and which I should let pass. So you don’t have to worry about me.”
Rachel still did not look entirely comfortable, but she could not simply turn away from Samuel’s earnestness. Eventually, she spoke. “What Jeremy pointed out earlier is probably the heart of the problem. Whether to cater to the locals or to foreign tourists. I’m sure you’ve agonised over that quite a lot.”
“Yes, definitely. I thought that if I harmonised the two carefully enough, I could satisfy both groups. But that wasn’t what happened. Instead of combining the strengths of both, the result sometimes felt as though they’d merely been awkwardly stuck together. I was happy when we received our third star, but I have no answer for some of the criticism from the food critics who visit.”
“What sort of criticism?”
“That it’s ambiguous. That it looks impressive, but in the end it’s neither Japanese nor Western, just a mongrel. Some of them have even said that.” Samuel’s voice gradually grew more passionate. Anger, though not directed at anyone in particular, trembled beneath his words. “Someone even said the head chef had no philosophy and wasn’t making any real effort. Even though I’ve been putting everything I have into this! I lose sleep every night wondering how I can make the food better. Whenever I hear something like that, I want to throw everything away and just rest… but then I see even the slightest smile on a customer’s face… and I realise all over again that I’m someone who can’t leave the kitchen.”
Rachel let out a quiet sigh. “All chefs are like that. We feel most alive when we’re in the kitchen. Samuel, I understand how you feel. It must be painful. But especially at times like this, you need to steady the pillar you’ve built inside yourself.”
“My teacher was that pillar. Until he passed away… That’s why now, I want to use your opinion as something to support the pillar my teacher helped me build.”
Faced with Samuel’s sincerity, Rachel could not answer lightly. If the head chef of a three-star restaurant was speaking to her like this, then his convictions had to be seriously wavering.
There was nothing easy about choosing words meant to steady someone in that state.
“I…” And so, when Rachel finally opened her mouth, what came out was not advice, but something from her own heart. “Being called a legend doesn’t mean I never waver. You said your pillar began to shake after you lost your teacher. I was the same. My husband was my pillar.”
“…What happened to your husband was a terrible tragedy.”
“Yes. It was. I thought I wouldn’t be able to endure that tragedy. And the truth is, I couldn’t. That’s why I spent the last ten years withering away like an old woman.”
“But you overcame it.”
“Overcame…”
Rachel slowly considered the word.
Had she really overcome it?
No.
Not yet.
She had not accomplished anything yet. ‘Overcome’ was a word she felt she could only use after reclaiming everything she had once possessed.
But she did not voice those doubts. She did not want to reveal just how far she felt she had fallen, and more importantly, she did not think words like that would help Samuel.
Rachel slowly reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder, over the scars carried by this boy who had grown older with the passing years.
“There is no ocean without storms. But without wind, a ship cannot sail. Sometimes, like me, you might take shelter on a nearby island and remain there for years without returning to the sea… but if you haven’t forgotten your destination, eventually you have to go back out and set sail again.”
“What should I do…? What do I have to do to make sure the ship doesn’t sink?”
“There are simple reasons ships sink. They encounter a natural disaster, or they strike a reef. But both can be avoided to some extent if you choose your course properly. And naturally, that course will change depending on which island you’re trying to reach.”
“…You’re talking about what you mentioned earlier. You set your course according to appearance.”
“Yes. More precisely, I set my course towards making food that can make someone happy before they’ve even tasted it.”
“That’s difficult for me. I wanted to find the point where cuisines from around the world could meet Japanese cuisine and show that fusion. But I keep wondering whether focusing so heavily on fusion itself was the wrong choice. That doubt keeps tormenting me.”
When Samuel received his third star, he had been thrilled that his philosophy and cooking were being recognised.
But the feeling had not lasted long.
If anything, the third star had raised customers’ expectations dramatically, and meeting those expectations was far more difficult than he had imagined.
“Sometimes I get jealous. Of the older Japanese chefs who devoted themselves to a single cuisine and reached the summit… No, not just in Japan. Great chefs around the world. I’m sure they all have their own worries, but I doubt they question their entire philosophy of cooking.”
“That’s a pointless doubt.” Rachel answered firmly, as though there were not even a reason to consider the matter.
Samuel looked at her in surprise.
Rachel continued with absolute confidence. “The path you chose is unquestionably a new one. As a pioneer, of course it will be difficult. But let me address one thing you just said. Spending a long time focused on one cuisine does not automatically make someone a master. A master is someone who can perfectly express the flavour they want to place on the plate. Whatever road you choose, if you reach its end, I’m sure you can become that kind of person too.”
Samuel could not answer.
All that escaped his mouth was a quiet sound of admiration, almost like a moan.
“It will rain. Waves will strike you. Your sails will become soaked, and your rudder may break. But none of that changes the path you need to travel. Nor can a storm swallow the island waiting at the end of your journey. Let your ship sail.”
Rachel smiled.
Overwhelmed by her words, Samuel could only stare at her face.
Rachel spoke again.
This time, however, she was not speaking to Samuel.
“I’ll let my own ship sail too.”
“This… is the end.” That night, Jo Minjoon muttered sadly as he dried his wet hair with a towel.
Anderson glanced towards him.
“Why? Are you disappointed?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Once we officially start working as chefs, we won’t have much time to travel. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say this might be our last real travelling experience.”
“You never know. If you become a celebrity chef, you’ll get invited onto programmes like this all the time.”
“I’ll have a kitchen to protect. Most of the time.”
“Alan and Joseph managed to appear on broadcasts just fine. Doing programmes like this can actually help a restaurant’s business. Of course, if your goal is simply to make a lot of money, opening a hamburger shop would probably be better than running a fine-dining restaurant.”
Jo Minjoon smiled bitterly at Anderson’s answer.
It was not entirely wrong.
In reality, plenty of high-end restaurants ended up running at a loss because of the cost of ingredients. The ones consistently making money were usually only the very best restaurants, the ones with reservations filling every seat.
Jo Minjoon asked, “Is there anywhere you wanted to go but didn’t get the chance?”
“Korea.” Anderson answered immediately.
Jo Minjoon looked at him in surprise.
“Korea? You never told me you liked Korean food. What do you want to eat?”
“It’s not really that there’s something specific I want to eat… I’m curious about the country you grew up in. Japanese and Vietnamese food are everywhere in America. Korean restaurants are starting to become more common these days, but there still aren’t that many. That’s why I want to try real Korean food at least once.”
“…Now that you mention it, even though Korea is my home country, I don’t think I actually understand Korean cuisine all that well.”
Jo Minjoon had spent virtually his entire life around Seoul. The only times he had really tasted regional cuisine from other provinces had been during school trips.
This… might become a problem.
No matter how he looked at it, the roots of Jo Minjoon’s cooking lay in Korea.
Trying to cook without understanding the cuisine of the country where he had been born and raised was almost like trying to learn English without properly understanding Korean first.
The circumstances were not exactly the same, of course, but still.
“Do you know American cuisine well?”
“First, bring me some water. No, tea. Black tea. Make it warm.”
“…You’re really enjoying ordering me around.”
Although Jo Minjoon pouted, he still went to prepare the black tea.
Watching the water rapidly come to a boil, a question suddenly occurred to him.
…How long is this punishment supposed to last?
With a faint sense of dread, Jo Minjoon returned carrying the tea.
Anderson arrogantly raised his cup. As Jo Minjoon poured the tea, he asked,
“How long does this punishment last?”
“We never specified a duration. Which means forever.”
“…I’m not doing that.”
“Do whatever you want.” Anderson agreed far too easily.
Jo Minjoon stared at him in disbelief.
Anderson replied casually. “There are plenty of people in the world who casually throw away promises they’ve made. It’s a little disappointing to learn that you’re one of them.”
“…Fine. I’ll do it. Let’s keep going. But we need to set a duration. A humane one.”
“Let’s be honest. You knew we never set a duration. You didn’t say anything because you thought you were going to win, didn’t you?”
It was a completely baseless accusation.
And yet it sounded so plausible that even Jo Minjoon, who was being accused, almost found himself convinced.
Just as he was about to hurriedly refute Anderson, a ringtone sounded.
It was Jo Minjoon’s phone.
“We’ll talk after I answer this.”
“Who is it?” Anderson asked, though his expression made it obvious he already knew.
Jo Minjoon wanted to tell him he was wrong.
Unfortunately, he was not.
Just as Anderson had expected, Jo Minjoon cleared his throat, adjusted his voice, and put the phone to his ear.
“Kaya?”
[Can you talk?]
“Yes. We’re resting right now. What about you?”
[It just became morning. I’m in Seattle.]
“Is your schedule going to be based in the US from now on?”
[California, more specifically. I think I’ll be in LA for quite a while. I’m supposed to be the head chef at the new Grand Chef restaurant there… Well, more like a mascot pretending to be the head chef.]
Jo Minjoon silently searched his memory.
After winning Grand Chef, one of the winner’s responsibilities for the following year was serving as the head chef of a Grand Chef restaurant.
So that part was nothing new.
But had the restaurant been in Los Angeles?
“I think Rachel’s restaurant is in LA too. More specifically, Venice, near Santa Monica.”
[The restaurant I’m going to is bigger than that.]
“Forget how big or fancy it is. Is it close? No, it should be fine. If it’s in LA, unless it’s all the way on the opposite side, it shouldn’t be that far. Maybe we’ll be able to see each other pretty often.”
[I don’t know… I hope so, but these people are working me too hard.]
Her voice was full of playful complaint.
Seeing the smile spreading across Jo Minjoon’s face, Anderson spoke with an uncomfortable expression.
“Are you trying to ruin my appetite?”
“You’re not going to eat anyway.”
[Hmm? I’m about to eat breakfast.]
“No, I’m talking to Anderson. He says I’m ruining his appetite.”
[Hmph. That pig could stand to starve a little. Maybe then he’d come to his senses.]
Jo Minjoon silently looked over Anderson’s body.
No matter how he looked at him, Anderson was far too muscular to be called a pig.
Maybe a muscle pig.
Anderson spoke. “What did Kaya say?”
“That you should lose some weight.”
“…As your master, I command you. Tell Kaya right now that you think she’s the one who’s put on quite a bit of weight and really needs to go on a diet.”
“What?”
“Then hang up immediately. If you do that, I’ll end the penalty here and now.”
Jo Minjoon had no intention of accepting.
But Anderson’s offer was extremely tempting.
His eyes trembled with hesitation.
And eventually, that hesitation reached his lips.
“Kaya. Listen without getting angry. Uh… You can’t get angry, okay?”
[What.]
“If we’re being completely honest, I’m wondering whether you might be the one who needs to go on a diet.”
[You son of a—]
Jo Minjoon hung up before Kaya could even finish.
Perhaps, on the other end of the disconnected call, every imaginable curse was now pouring out.
Anderson lay back on the bed with a deeply satisfied expression and murmured to himself, “The taste of power.”