Chapter 158: The Reason They Are Hungry (2)
Chapter 158: The Reason They Are Hungry (2)
As soon as the call ended, Jo Minjoon expected an angry text from Kaya, or perhaps even an angry phone call. But his smartphone remained silent for a long time. He eventually tried calling her himself, only to hear a busy tone on the other end.
…This is scarier than her being angry.
Maybe she was furious. Or perhaps his words had genuinely hurt her. Either way, there was nothing he could do when she refused to answer his calls or reply to his messages.
“Hey, what should I do? Kaya might really not be okay.”
“If her mental fortitude isn’t strong enough to handle something as trivial as this, then she might as well give up on living in society.”
“…You cold-hearted bastard.”
“If I were really cold-hearted, I wouldn’t have released you from your slave contract after only one day.”
Jo Minjoon could only sigh at Anderson’s response. Why had Anderson dragged him into this mess in the first place?
Anderson looked at his back and asked, “Are you making breakfast again today?”
“I’m not sure. Considering our flight time, it doesn’t look like we’ll have time to stop anywhere for breakfast, so it might be better to make something ourselves. But we should probably ask everyone else too. Since it’s our last day, they might prefer eating at a restaurant rather than cooking.”
“…Wouldn’t going to a restaurant take too long? We might only have enough time to grab a bento or something from a convenience store.”
“Then let’s just sleep in. We don’t have enough time anyway.”
“I suppose.”
Seven hours later, at five in the morning, Jo Minjoon and Anderson were standing face-to-face in the kitchen.
Anderson had just walked through the door with an expression that clearly said, I knew this would happen.
“Didn’t you say we should sleep in?”
“Yes… but I couldn’t fall asleep.”
“I heard your alarm going off earlier. You can pretend you’re so sleepy you’re about to die, but do you really think I’ll believe you?”
Caught by Anderson’s deduction, Jo Minjoon awkwardly looked away.
Anderson laughed. Even though Jo Minjoon had lied, it was hard to be angry with him.
“You idiot. Whatever. Let’s make breakfast.”
“Is there anything you want to cook?”
“Judging by the way you’re asking, sounds like you already have something in mind.”
“Yes. I realised a lot of things at Tokyo Harmony yesterday. First…”
Jo Minjoon opened the refrigerator. There was still a decent variety of food inside, but perhaps because they had made breakfast the previous day, several ingredients were running low.
He looked at Anderson.
“Let’s go shopping.”
Even though it was already summer, the air and pavement were still cold before sunrise.
Jo Minjoon zipped his cardigan all the way up and shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering as he walked.
“Ah, it’s cold. I shouldn’t have worn shorts.”
“You’re wearing long sleeves and a cardigan on top. Why would you wear shorts? Did you not expect it to be cold?”
“I thought the warmth up top would balance out the cold down below. Apparently, it doesn’t work that way. Just like with cooking, I suppose balancing hot and cold is important.”
“Well, we’re chefs. I guess that kind of habit isn’t necessarily bad.”
“Maybe not, but I’m still freezing.”
Anderson shook his head. Then, apparently unable to endure it any longer, he spoke. “Hey, idiot. If you’re that cold, tie your cardigan around your waist.”
“…Ah. Anderson. I never realised it before, but you’re actually pretty smart.”
Anderson’s cheeks reddened at Jo Minjoon’s response.
At the market, Jo Minjoon looked over the fish laid out on display.
“Do you think some restaurants buy their ingredients from big supermarkets instead of markets like this?”
“Probably more of them use supermarkets. If they care enough to come all the way to a market like this, unless one happens to be right nearby, they’d probably rather make direct contracts with suppliers. At our restaurant, each ingredient is sourced directly from the producer or supplier.”
“That sounds fun too. Going from place to place and checking the quality of the ingredients yourself. Wouldn’t it feel like solving a puzzle?” Jo Minjoon smiled as though merely imagining it excited him.
Anderson raised an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“…The more I think about it, you’ve romanticised restaurants from the very beginning. How are you still like that? You know enough by now. You know it isn’t some comfortable, easy job, and that behind all the glamour there’s an enormous amount of stress. Just look at Samuel yesterday. Even someone as accomplished as him cared that much about our opinions, even if some of it was because of the cameras. It’s a difficult job. A painful one too.”
“Of course I know. Why wouldn’t I?”
Jo Minjoon took his eyes off a Pacific saury and looked at Anderson.
The moment their gazes met, Anderson flinched.
Half a year.
No matter how deep someone’s thoughts were, half a year was usually enough to form some understanding of what kind of person they were.
But every now and then, Jo Minjoon made an expression Anderson simply could not read.
At times like this, he looked almost like someone far older, someone who had lived through much more than Anderson had. His eyes held a strange sweetness and affection.
…Maybe it’s because he once planned to become a teacher?
There was no time to reach an answer.
Jo Minjoon spoke. “But Anderson, even the difficult parts are fun for me. Of course, when I’m actually going through them, my chest feels tight and it hurts, but maybe that’s because work and play are the same thing to me. Whenever I stand in front of a worktop, I feel more tense than at any other time. But instead of feeling like I’m wasting my life, I think, I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Just that thought alone makes me feel full.”
“Must be nice to feel full.”
“I’m sure you feel full too. You’re just like me.”
Anderson parted his lips slightly.
Jo Minjoon sounded completely certain about him.
Anderson himself had never possessed that same certainty.
He hesitated before asking, “What… exactly is it that you believe in about me?”
“Passion.”
There was not even a moment’s hesitation.
Anderson stared at him. “My… passion?”
“If you didn’t have passion, you wouldn’t have woken up this early just to make breakfast. Don’t you think?”
Anderson fell silent. His gaze drifted towards a woman shopping at the market at this early hour.
Then he spoke quietly. “I’m not as straightforward as you think I am.”
“I never thought you were.”
“My feelings towards cooking… rather than passion, they’re probably closer to affection.”
“Why?”
“Because it wasn’t my decision.” Anderson answered briefly. Yet those few words seemed packed with complicated emotions that had been compressed for years. “It wasn’t my decision. It was because of my parents. Ah, I’m not saying they forced me. But they only ever showed me one path. At first, I thought that was only natural. The older I got, though, the more I hated it. Never looking at anything else even once, never stopping to breathe, just walking down that single road. Sometimes it felt as though my life wasn’t mine at all, but my parents’. So…”
Anderson lowered his eyelashes.
Given his pride, saying something like this could not have been easy.
It was not because Jo Minjoon was someone so extraordinary that Anderson was willing to abandon his pride in front of him.
The reason was much simpler.
Jo Minjoon was his friend.
“That’s why I entered Grand Chef. My life—I wanted to make it mine. I wanted to walk a road I chose myself. And I wanted to find out whether I could actually love this path.”
“…Yes. I remember you once saying that you wanted to step out of your parents’ shadow.”
Hidden beneath those words had been far deeper worries and struggles than Jo Minjoon had realised.
He looked at Anderson gently, but when he spoke, his voice was firm. “You did step out of it, Anderson. And I’m not saying that because you’re good at cooking. You…”
Jo Minjoon briefly closed his mouth.
He was not good at saying sentimental things. At least, he had never considered himself someone who was. But this was something he wanted to say at least once.
“You’re my rival. I wouldn’t be rivals with someone who doesn’t even like cooking.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Jo Minjoon turned away and began examining the fish. Just imagining the expression Anderson might be making made his skin itch.
Then Anderson’s voice came quietly from behind him. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”
Jo Minjoon did not answer.
There was no need to respond to something so obvious.
They did not start cooking immediately after returning from the market.
Jo Minjoon and Anderson first sat at the table and reviewed each other’s recipes. They needed to consider the composition of the entire meal, the harmony between ingredients, and what results they could expect from following each recipe.
As they discussed them, each found himself admiring the other.
Anderson was impressed by Jo Minjoon’s creativity in constructing recipes.
Jo Minjoon, meanwhile, was impressed by the depth of Anderson’s knowledge about ingredients, which revealed itself every time he spoke.
Eventually, Anderson asked, “You… How did you get this good just by learning at home through the internet? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I had an incredible teacher online.”
“Who? I’ve searched through plenty of things online, and I’ve never seen anyone that amazing.”
“Kaya.”
Anderson frowned at the short answer.
His expression quickly darkened.
“You’re not talking about Kaya Lotus, are you?”
“I am.”
“…Stop joking. Kaya only started appearing online after Grand Chef aired. How could you have learned from watching her before that?”
Jo Minjoon smiled without answering.
There was no way he could explain it.
Still, at least he could tell himself that he had not lied to Anderson.
“First, let’s talk about how we divide the work.”
“What do you mean? Our roles?”
“Yes. If you think about it, the way we split things has always been primitive. It was usually one of two methods. Either each person made one complete dish, or one person handled the ingredients while the other handled the heat. Isn’t there a more efficient way to divide the work so we can bring out each other’s strengths?”
Both of them were enthusiastic about finding a better method.
Anderson stared silently into the eyes of the sea bream before speaking.
“We need to become one body.”
“…What?”
“What the hell is that expression for? I mean we need to move as though we’re one person. Like one person with four arms. My thoughts become yours, and your thoughts become mine. If we can move like that, we can complete everything perfectly.”
“If we mess it up, it could just make things even more complicated.”
“That’s why we should make sure we completely understand the recipe and overall composition before we begin. It should work better that way.”
Jo Minjoon nodded.
The recipes they had settled on resembled ordinary Japanese home cooking.
It was their final day in Japan, and also the last day they would spend together like a family.
That was why, for this final meal, they had chosen something casual rather than something commercial or elaborate. They wanted to share the sort of meal a family might eat together.
The composition was simple.
White rice.
At first, they considered adding mushrooms and making mushroom rice, but unless the rice itself was meant to be the main dish, adding other ingredients did not seem necessary.
For the fish, they chose sea bream. They filleted it, then braised the pieces with soy sauce, mirin, and sugar in a broth made from water, rice wine, and turnip.
They also prepared stir-fried beef and potatoes, grilled ginger pork, and clams steamed in rice wine.
To complete the meal, they added pickled cucumbers and cabbage, sprouts seasoned with salt and walnut oil, and chilled tofu.
They did not say anything particularly important while cooking.
Jo Minjoon and Anderson simply kept checking on each other.
That did not mean they were neglecting the dishes directly in front of them. Rather than merely watching each other, they were both paying attention to the entire kitchen.
It was almost as though they had both become head chefs at once.
The difference from an ordinary head chef was that there were two of them, and both were working directly on the line.
It was a fresh experience, and a valuable one.
Cooking could easily go wrong if you lost concentration even for a moment. Paying attention to everything happening around them while still handling the knives and pans in their own hands with precision was much harder than it sounded.
Yet that only made it more enjoyable.
The sensation of their minds and bodies approaching their limits was exhilarating in a way that was difficult to describe.
More than anything, not thinking about how many points the dishes might receive made the entire experience feel completely different.
The flames curling around the pans seemed brighter and more beautiful than usual.
The knife handles seemed to settle more naturally into their palms.
Cooking… Right. This was what it was.
This kind of fun.
Without worrying about the score the food might receive, every single moment of the cooking process felt like play.
It was exhilarating.
This was real cooking.
A faint smile appeared on Jo Minjoon’s face.
It was barely noticeable, but it was more honest and unguarded than any smile he had shown in a long time.
Even their teamwork, awkward at first, gradually became almost perfect.
Whenever Jo Minjoon moved away from a position, Anderson immediately filled it.
Whenever Anderson realised he needed an ingredient, Jo Minjoon handed it to him before he even had to ask.
Each remained constantly aware of the other’s presence and movements while listening to every sound in the kitchen.
Anderson could feel his heart beating faster.
At first, he had thought he was simply being led around by Jo Minjoon.
But that was not it.
They were exchanging countless words without speaking.
They understood each other through movement alone.
It was a sensation Anderson had never experienced before.
For the first time, it felt as though there was someone who could completely understand him.
So when the cooking finally ended, Anderson looked disappointed, as though an extraordinary film had just reached its credits.
Then he turned that disappointed gaze towards Jo Minjoon.
Something was strange.
Jo Minjoon was looking at Anderson.
No.
More precisely, he was looking at something beside Anderson.
And no matter how many times Anderson followed his gaze, there was nothing there.
Then Jo Minjoon spoke.
His voice was filled with unmistakable envy.
“…Congratulations, Anderson.”
[Anderson Russo]
Cooking Level: 8
Baking Level: 7
Tasting Level: 8
Decoration Level: 7