Chapter 502: Confrontation (1)
Chapter 502: Confrontation (1)
Sometimes people think that unless their job requires competing with others, they won’t have to feel offended by, or offend, anyone. Why? Because their paths won’t cross in ways that cause friction.
Minjoon used to think that way. Who, after all, would expect a chef like him to have normal social conflicts? Of course, a chef might have disagreements with customers, but if the chef felt offended by a customer, he could simply choose not to see them again. So, it wasn’t a big deal. And usually, such customers would try to fault a chef regardless of their profession.
That was why Minjoon felt so embarrassed right now. Wasabi was a famous three-star Michelin Japanese restaurant in New York. Being here, his mind was racing.
“It’s not as good as we thought, right?” he said.
“Nope. Not good enough,” Kaya replied calmly, nodding.
Minjoon sighed at her words. His initial admiration for Wasabi collapsed instantly.
The interior of Wasabi was so luxurious it eclipsed even June’s Rose Island branch in New York. Though not a sushi restaurant, it featured a wood bar that must have cost millions to produce, and lantern-like lamps with a unique and apparently limited-edition design.
Servers dressed in Western-style kimonos greeted Minjoon and Kaya with “Irasshaimase” despite not being Japanese. Escorting them inside, the path passed the kitchen and led to a soundproof private room directly attached to it.
The kitchen itself wasn’t fully enclosed. They were actually cooking in a garden with an open roof, which amazed Minjoon. He wondered how cooking here could be possible when it rained, suspecting they must have a way to cover it.
Wasabi wasn’t a sushi, roll, or ramen specialist; it promoted itself as a Japanese bistro, serving various Japanese dishes in course format.
It was neither common nor rare, but Minjoon appreciated the break from the typical Japanese restaurants abroad that specialised in only ramen or sushi—only parts of Japanese cuisine he found old-fashioned.
That was why Minjoon harboured high expectations as he sat at the table. Three Michelin stars didn’t guarantee great taste, but every three-star restaurant he’d visited so far had made him happy, at least.
With Wasabi’s unique atmosphere and serving style, customers should feel excited upon entry. Minjoon expected fairly decent Japanese cuisine.
But he had to abandon those hopes quickly.
The first dish was something like miso soup made with soy sauce, miso, and tofu. Crispy boiled bok choy and grated radish atop looked like a dipping sauce for soba.
Honestly, it didn’t taste bad. The soy sauce and soybean paste flavours spread with a refined saltiness, and the tofu was adequately seasoned.
Overall, the seasoning, texture, and recipe idea were acceptable. But Minjoon could not admire anything about the dish. Customers expecting a home-style meal might enjoy it, but the price wasn’t cheap.
If the chef chose an unoriginal or unnovel recipe, he should have elevated its depth and richness with masterful cooking beyond ordinary chefs’ skills. But Minjoon saw no such effort here.
He could tolerate a mediocre first dish, but all the others that followed left the same impression.
Pickled mackerel in soy sauce, soba, sushi, and rolls came in sequence. All tasted good, but that was it. Deliciousness averaged an eight, but the fun factor barely hit six. For a three-star Michelin restaurant, it was quite boring.
“It would have been nice if Chef June were here.”
“Why?”
“Because we could ask her if it’s right that we’re already bored here.”
“You don’t need to ask. The problem lies with this kitchen, which has led us to that conclusion. Honestly, this restaurant is boring. I think Michelin awarded three stars more for its unique serving concept.”
“Yeah, they didn’t rate it only on the food. They must have valued its original concept somewhat… Oh, I get it.”
“Why? Did something come to you?” Kaya asked, puzzled.
He frowned, deep in thought. “You and I have been to Japan. Don’t you think our experience influences our rating now?”
“To some extent. People unfamiliar with Asian cuisine might find this exotic enough. Probably the same with Michelin judges—maybe even more so. Actually, Michelin does yank stars from Japanese restaurants as they do with European ones.”
“Do I have to record this conversation in Jotus Guide with our ratings?” Minjoon muttered, sighing. He wondered whether such discourse would help the restaurant. The Guide aimed to help customers choose but also offered chefs a chance to improve.
When dessert arrived—a plate of mochi and fruit soaked in walnut grain syrup—Minjoon felt extremely confused. The plating was artistic, but the contents lacked impact. Perhaps because of its Oriental style, the dessert appeared more valuable than it was.
The people here might be smart, Minjoon thought. Maybe they were cleverly using Westerners’ illusions of Orientalism, even if unintentionally.
Either way, Minjoon had sized up this restaurant.
“This place is getting a better review than it deserves.”
“I agree to some extent.”
“The problem is this judgment is just ours. Those less familiar with Asian or Japanese dishes might find these meals fresh and beautiful. Should we ignore their existing perceptions just because of our own ratings?”
“We should evaluate by our own standards. Isn’t it stranger to rely on others’?”
“True.”
As they continued exchanging views, the head chef of Wasabi entered their room. He was an elderly man, looking stern.
“Did you enjoy the dishes?” he asked.
“Well…” Minjoon hesitated.
“Nope. To be honest, I was a little disappointed,” Kaya said without hesitation.
Unlike Minjoon’s hesitation, Kaya voiced her opinion immediately. Minjoon looked at her in surprise but didn’t blame her. In truth, it was he who hadn’t done his job properly. As gourmets, they needed to give honest opinions in any situation.
If they couldn’t be honest for fear of offending the other party, who could trust their evaluations? Giving inaccurate scores out of sympathy was just as dishonest as bribery. Such chefs shouldn’t publish restaurant guides at all.
Head Chef Yoshimoto’s expression hardened slightly as he glanced at Kaya.
“You said you were disappointed. May I ask...?”
“All dishes were delicious. I truly felt Chef Yoshimoto is talented. But I wondered if you’re complacent about your current status, content to rest on your past. I felt no freshness or vitality in the dishes. They seemed like corpses following a bygone legacy. When did you last try making something new?”
Though meeting the head chef for the first time, she was highly critical without hesitation. His sous chef beside him looked startled, both at Kaya and their boss, while Minjoon simply accepted the tension—she had spoken her mind clearly. The head chef looked offended by her criticism.