Chapter 576: Each Team (7)
Chapter 576: Each Team (7)
Minjoon spoke slowly, not intending to merely flaunt his perfect palate before Michael. “You cooked this lobster in a sous vide style, mixing beet juice, orange juice, and lemon verbena. But the cooking time was definitely too short. It looks like sous vide, but it isn't. To cook it in limited time, you need to raise the heat; yet if you do that, you often lose the delicate qualities unique to sous vide.”
“Can you feel it?”
Minjoon didn’t answer Michael’s silly question but continued, “You used orange juice and beets for the beet purée, too. For the vegetable confit on top, you added carrots, beets, turnips, green apples, orange juice, cardamom, lemon verbena, lemon peel, and star anise. You layered many ingredients in various ways. I think you aimed for a unified taste, but it seems a bit too sweet for an appetizer.”
Michael remained silent, staring blankly as if astonished by Minjoon’s critique.
Minjoon quickly added, “Still, it tastes good enough.”
His evaluation was harsh, but not out of animosity. Having examined every detail as a professional chef, Minjoon judged Michael not as an amateur participant but as a skilled cook. For an amateur, Michael was nearly perfect. Yet as a professional, he had plenty to improve.
Should I continue pointing out his flaws?
Minjoon hesitated. No matter how good Michael was, he was still an amateur. It might be cruel to judge him by professional standards. But having already drawn the bow, Minjoon couldn’t hold back. Half-hearted advice would do Michael no favours. He resolved to be perfectly strict.
Speaking slowly, Minjoon asked, “Do you know what’s wrong with your cooking, Michael?”
Michael replied uncertainly, “Oh, really? Have you found something?”
“You cook by formula. Once you understand the formula, you rarely make mistakes. You’ve sorted many dish components inside your head. But in other words, you cook only according to familiar formulas.”
Michael’s expression turned serious—less disappointed than thoughtful—as he absorbed Minjoon’s words. He was smart and soon understood and accepted the critique fully.
“You mean the formula I know has limits?”
“Did you have a cuisine teacher?”
“Um… Not really. I mostly studied from recipe books.”
He meant he learned mainly through textbooks. His high skill was admirable, but it wasn’t enough.
“You need a teacher to show you how to cook.”
“Like a cooking teacher?”
“Yes. Your cooking has flaws but you compensate with perfect grasp of cooking theory. Theory isn’t enough, though. You can’t invent recipes simply by calculating ingredients. Before grasping taste scientifically, you need human understanding. Are you cooking from that perspective?”
“I’m not a robot. I do enjoy pure delight in taste.”
“Well, you still have a long way to go to mean that.”
From his reply, Minjoon drew a conclusion about Michael’s cuisine. It might be wrong, but he found it credible.
Michael Orr was a genius but lacked cooking talent.
It sounded contradictory but wasn’t.
Michael was a genius—undeniably. If a Harvard physics professor is not a genius, who is? He was brilliant intellectually and very good at cooking.
But he lacked natural cooking talent.
“He’s just a nerd, no more, no less.”
He couldn’t even match Gwen in talent, let alone Hugo or Peter. Yet, his brilliant mind let him master cooking through a unique scientific route.
Memorizing all known cooking formulas meant no mistakes. Since creativity sometimes lies in formulas, Michael could create amazing dishes by slight changes to existing recipes. But that was all.
Minjoon continued, “Cooking can be formulaic, but not always. You may not accept that, but I believe it. It’s not crucial though. You must put your own touch on the formula to be a special chef, even if the recipes aren’t yours.”
“Can’t you find any uniqueness in my cooking?”
“No. It’s vague,” Minjoon said calmly.
“Your cooking is excellent. I have no complaints as a competition judge. But as a chef, I’m telling you this.”
The atmosphere shifted. Spectators thought Michael’s dish wasn’t as good as expected, but that wasn’t true. Minjoon was speaking as a chef, not a contestant, so others took it as criticism.
Only Michael deserved it.
“When I was interviewed by the media, I named you a potential winner.”
“Changed your mind?”
“No. You’re still the front-runner. But if I pick the most brilliant chef, it’d be someone else.”
Michael’s limit was that he was a remarkable amateur.
He might run a unique restaurant and attract customers, but he wouldn’t make the best restaurant.
It’s funny judging him since cooking isn’t his main job.
Still, Minjoon made such comments because he really liked Michael’s dish, albeit with regrets.
Michael took the critique seriously. Minutes ago, Minjoon analyzed his dish completely. How could Michael challenge such mastery?
So he bowed and said, “Then just tell me.”
“Pardon?”
“Tell me what I lack in this dish.”
“Well, several things. First, you overemphasized unity of taste. For example, orange juice and beet flavours still stand out. Changing confit, purée, lobster with other ingredients was good, but the combined taste became stronger. Also, you made too much food.”
Michael glanced at the plates—enough for three judges, with much leftover.
Smiling, Minjoon pointed to a second plate.
“When I eat this, do you think the lingering taste is appropriate for an appetizer?”
Only now did Michael notice his dish’s weakness. He hadn’t viewed food from the eater’s perspective. As a result, his appetizer overwhelmed the palate, exhausting the eater.
“Thank you.”
Michael shot a strange glance at Minjoon. Minjoon didn’t grasp its meaning. As a genius, Michael saw things differently, finding in Minjoon a mind on his wavelength. He sized up strengths and flaws instantly, even in trivial talk.
Soon, all three judges began sampling Michael’s team members’ dishes.