Chapter 192: Searching for the Roots (3)
Chapter 192: Searching for the Roots (3)
“……What can I do? It’s my job.”
Jo Minjoon answered in a dejected voice.
Ella turned her head and glared sharply at Kaya.
Anderson picked up some japchae with his chopsticks before speaking.
“You really do feel like you’re being served a feast when there are this many dishes. But…… at the same time, it feels too extravagant. There’s so much food that I feel like I’ll get full before I can even try everything.”
“There’s something I heard before. Until only a few decades ago, my country had a lot of economic difficulties. There weren’t many people who could eat until they were completely full. Because of that, there was a lot of longing and desire for food. Of course, I never personally lived through that period…… but anyway, for the young people who did, seeing a feast so abundant that it seemed impossible to finish brought an incredible sense of happiness.”
“I know what that feels like.”
Kaya spoke with a bitter smile.
Jo Minjoon looked at her.
Kaya gazed around the table nostalgically.
“Even if the world has gotten better, poor people are still poor. And the biggest problem for poor people is always food. Eating a little more, even if what you’re eating tastes terrible…… that was one way we relieved stress. So…… I like a spread like this. My dream used to be to eat as much delicious food as I wanted.”
Chloe patted Kaya’s shoulder sympathetically.
Kaya continued in a mischievous tone.
“But now I can eat at a place like this. I guess I’ve succeeded in my own way.”
“There’s no need to guess. You’ve succeeded in a pretty amazing way.”
Jo Minjoon smiled.
Kaya smiled faintly in return, then gently caressed his calf with her toes beneath the table, as though thanking him.
Jo Minjoon immediately became nervous and glanced around at the others.
Naturally, nobody seemed to have noticed.
He cleared his throat.
“What do you all think about the food? Lisa, which dish do you like best?”
“For me…… I like this one the most.”
Lisa raised her chopsticks and pointed at a dish.
It was not what Jo Minjoon had expected.
He asked in surprise.
“Samgyetang?”
“Yes. I can tell they put a lot of time and effort into it. I don’t know what kind of herbs they boiled with it, but it’s memorable because it smells almost woody…… I feel like it brings out something uniquely Korean.”
“What do you think is uniquely Korean about it?”
“For Korean food, wouldn’t it be slow food?”
“……Mm. That’s similar to what I think too. I feel like one of the most distinctive aspects of Korean food is its broths. Though for samgyetang, since it’s a chicken broth dish, they probably didn’t boil the chicken itself for too long. Chicken dries out if you boil it excessively. They might have simmered the other ingredients first, then added the chicken towards the end.”
Broths generally became deeper and more flavourful the longer they simmered, so Lisa’s observation was not wrong.
Compared with the vegetables and pickled dishes that often came to mind when people thought of Korean cuisine, there were an enormous number of different broth-based dishes.
Vegetable dishes could be viewed as a form of salad, and Western cuisines used plenty of pickled foods as well.
But broths were different.
If one searched for equivalents in Western cuisine, there were things like seafood soups and stews. Yet even seafood soup often felt as though it existed to prepare the palate for the main course to follow.
It was difficult to expect the clean sense of completion found in a Korean broth dish from a Western soup.
That made sense.
Unless the course itself was unusually disorganised, another dish would inevitably follow the soup.
Anderson spoke.
“To be honest, I’ve never really been amazed by a broth dish. Of course, they taste good. But when you swallow it, I feel like something’s missing. If it’s thicker, at least you get that sensation of it filling your mouth……”
“I know what you mean. The problem is that it doesn’t really feel like you’re eating something.”
“Something like that. Of course, there are solid ingredients too, but Asians seem to get satisfaction from the broth itself. Personally, I prefer the solids.”
“Most people would probably agree the solids taste better…… No. The more I think about it, if I were told I could only have one or the other, I might actually choose the broth.”
It was interesting when he thought about it.
Jo Minjoon knew what kind of flavour he preferred.
He liked food that clearly expressed the taste of each ingredient, while also allowing those flavours to harmonise when they met on the tongue.
That harmony was often the standard by which he judged a dish.
In that sense, broth might be one of the best ways to create harmony between flavours.
In some ways, it was closely aligned with his own speciality: sauces.
A broth was essentially a sauce you could drink.
……Then why have I never seriously studied the tradition of broths?
Broths aligned perfectly with his preferences and cooking philosophy, yet he had never properly devoted himself to making them.
But perhaps that was not so strange.
To truly draw out the flavour of a broth, most recipes required a considerable amount of time.
Since coming to the United States, he had rarely had the chance to stand beside a pot for an entire day.
Still, the important thing was that broth dishes had nearly disappeared from his thoughts altogether.
He had worked with soups and stews from time to time, but he had never been especially interested in those either.
His current section might be molecular gastronomy, but that did not mean he should have forgotten them entirely.
To forget something was practically the same as not possessing it at all.
Broths were a symbol of Korean cuisine.
And Korean cuisine was what had first taught Jo Minjoon about food.
He himself might not have realised it, but perhaps the reason he liked liquid components such as sauces so much was partly because of the broths he had grown up eating.
To live without even thinking about something that had influenced him so deeply was like trying to fly with his wings folded against his body.
“……Broths.”
Jo Minjoon scooped up some samgyetang broth and put it into his mouth.
Above the light flavour of chicken floated the fragrance of many different herbs.
It was an excellent combination.
It was almost astonishing that such pleasant flavour could emerge from ingredients that were individually so bitter.
He took another few sips.
Then his heart began whispering in his ear.
His experiences.
His prejudices.
They whispered to him.
Broths won’t work in Western cuisine. People here think of them as something poor people eat to fill their stomachs. They don’t suit the path you’re walking.
The quality of a dish isn’t determined by its origin. It’s determined by the chef.
But how are you going to overcome people’s prejudices here? Fine. Asian customers might like it. But do you plan to be praised only by Asians while everyone else rejects you?
……If the roots of my palate lie in broths, then at the very least, I need to understand how to appreciate them.
People reveal themselves even in a single line they draw. Haven’t you seen those psychological tests? Someone draws a tree and a house, and from those few lines on a piece of paper, people try to analyse what kind of person they are. Do you think cooking is any different? If you love broths, that will show in your dishes. And do you really think that taste will be enough to charm everyone else?
Jo Minjoon’s spoon stopped moving.
He stared stiffly at the samgyetang.
Ella looked at him with concern.
“Uncle Minjoon. What’s wrong? Does your stomach hurt?”
“No, Ella. I just have a lot to think about.”
“What now? What’s the problem?”
Kaya asked bluntly.
Her tone might have been sharp, but her eyes were filled with concern.
Even beneath the table, her foot was gently brushing against Jo Minjoon’s heel.
“I keep thinking about how difficult it is to be a chef in a foreign country.”
“What? Why?”
“My palate is different from an American palate. But I can’t simply force my own taste to conform to what Americans want. If I do that, I’ll just become a fraud.”
Chloe listened quietly before nodding.
She had worried about the same thing before.
No.
She still worried about it.
Having grown up eating her mother’s Chinese cooking, Chloe’s palate had never become completely Americanised either.
She slowly spoke.
“You can’t really avoid it. You have to localise to some extent. If you gradually adjust things over time……”
“Why should you change it? What’s wrong with either of your palates?”
Kaya cut Chloe off.
Her voice carried genuine anger. She was practically huffing as she spoke.
“Fine. Your sense of taste might be different from the local palate a hundred times out of a hundred. But what’s wrong with that? You just have to make food so good that people start thinking your preferences are cool and stylish.”
“……I understand what you’re trying to say. But is that really possible without any localisation at all? Take foie gras. Westerners tend to serve it in thick slices, while Easterners often cut it into portions about two fingers wide because customers find anything larger too greasy. Sichuan cuisine is the same. In Sichuan, they use a lot of mala seasoning and Sichuan peppercorns. But Americanised Sichuan food can’t always do that. If they make it as spicy and numbing as they do in Sichuan, many customers won’t be able to eat it. The same goes for coriander or perilla leaves.”
(Translator’s Note: Sichuan pepper — The aromatic husk of several Zanthoxylum species used extensively in Sichuan and other Chinese cuisines. Unlike chilli pepper, Sichuan pepper produces a characteristic tingling or numbing sensation. Together with chilli heat, it creates the málà (numbing-hot”) flavour fundamental to many Sichuan dishes.)
“So are you saying there’s something wrong with the way the two of you taste food?”
“……It isn’t an easy path.”
“Has anything ever been easy for you? Why are you suddenly acting so weak?”
“Kaya. Nobody can be strong all the time. There are things we’re weak at, and times when we’re weak.”
“No. You can’t be like that.”
Kaya glared at Jo Minjoon.
He could feel her toes curling tightly over his foot.
She must have been tensing her entire body, because he could even see a faint tremor running through her.
Suddenly, he felt upset.
Not angry.
He could simply feel Kaya’s emotions reaching him too clearly.
Kaya continued quietly.
“I said this to the chefs during the Grand Chef finale. I said I respected you. So you…… at least in front of me…… don’t show me this side of yourself. I’m not saying you can’t be weak. You can struggle. You can hurt. But don’t ever lose confidence in yourself. Don’t start thinking that the things you have aren’t worth anything.”
“You…… really think there’s value in my sense of taste?”
“You said it yourself. If you change who you are, you become a fraud. And I like the real Minjoon. I respect the real Minjoon. You don’t need some perfect palate that can cater to everyone. You’re Jo Minjoon. You’re Kaya Lotus’s man. Go make everyone else believe that what you think is delicious really is delicious.”
Jo Minjoon’s expression became complicated.
He suddenly remembered what Rachel had told him.
When she sent him to study Korean food, her final piece of advice had been:
Don’t try to represent everyone.
Perhaps Rachel had already known exactly what Minjoon would end up struggling with.
“We’re chefs. If we want to satisfy our customers, we shouldn’t compromise. We should dominate them. Fine, we can use fewer herbs if something is too fragrant, or reduce the portion of foie gras if it feels too greasy. But we can’t compromise who we are. I don’t want to become a chef who runs away. And I don’t want you cooking like that either. Minjoon. Please.”
Kaya unconsciously pressed harder against his foot.
Then she continued.
“Win. Become a chef who can defeat any kind of customer.”
Kaya’s words cleared away all of his hesitation.
It was not that she had given him the answer to his problem.
Someone who did not know the answer could not simply hand it to him.
All Kaya had done was share what she believed.
And Jo Minjoon wanted to become what Kaya wanted him to be.
If she did not want him to hesitate, then he did not want to hesitate.
He did not want to worry.
He could not allow himself to become a frightened rabbit.
At that moment, he made up his mind.
[You have stepped beyond the confines of objectivity and accepted your own sense of taste. Your suppressed palate has improved!]
[The conditions for reaching Tasting Level 9 have been fulfilled!]
The messages rang through his mind.
Jo Minjoon thought for a moment.
What exactly had raised his Tasting Level?
Was it Kaya?
Or was it this broth?
After thinking about it briefly, he smiled.
It was a pointless question.
The answer was obvious.
He spoke.
“As always, you’re my answer.”
Then he lifted his spoon once more.