Chapter 616: Flowers on the Cliff (4)
Chapter 616: Flowers on the Cliff (4)
“Think about it. Let’s say these people’s recipes get served at Irregular Lab. Do you think that means they’re losing money?”
“What do you think?”
“No, they’re not losing anything. If their recipes become popular at Irregular Lab, their reputation will soar; if not, they can just say it’s Irregular Lab’s limitation. They have nothing to lose. Regardless of success, they benefit from wide publicity.”
“So, they’re using us to promote themselves?”
“They’re not using us, of course. It’s their proposal. It’s like saying, ‘We know you need good recipes, so we’ll give you some. You can use them or not, but you won’t lose money by accepting our offer.’ That’s how I see it.”
“So what will you do?”
Since Minjoon equated the recipes with business, Kaya had no clear sense of how to respond. But he didn’t rush, just patted her shoulder to calm her.
“Don’t worry. We don’t need to decide now. Right now, what matters is that not only amateurs but even professional chefs are interested in our program.”
This was an unexpected development, but a good one. Minjoon could review all these submissions—even if he couldn’t use them on Irregular Lab's menu, they would help him and Kaya refine their skills.
Of course, the more professionals entered their program, the less room there would be for amateurs—but that was a problem for later. Minjoon mused quietly: this was their league, where outside chefs sent recipes for review and potential inclusion. And as Kaya was the owner of this league alongside him—not just Irregular Lab—both shared control.
Minjoon paused.
“Bravo!”
No matter how he saw it, this was destined to be a big success.
Until the Grand Chef finals, Minjoon and Kaya focused on reviewing recipes while delaying their restaurant’s opening. The process was quicker than expected, since they were adept at filtering out mediocre dishes. Assisted by the system, Minjoon rapidly eliminated unqualified recipes.
Still, even recipes not selected were sometimes insightful. Sometimes recipes rated only cooking point 3 inspired them: “Wow, how did they think of that?”
Reviewing these was fun. Many recipe authors had little cooking experience, so their imagination often outshone professional chefs.
Take bananas and cheese, for example. Would ordinary people imagine mixing them? Though popular in desserts like cheesecake, finding recipes that mixed them otherwise was rare.
Minjoon forced himself to think outside the box with such combinations. Even seemingly ridiculous recipes pushed him to seek clues to improve his own skills. The more he tried, the more he instinctively realised he needed intelligence to win this battle.
At that moment, he envied Michael’s smartness. Looking back, it was odd to tell Michael he researched science, not cooking. As someone pursuing sensuous cuisine, Minjoon found himself envying Michael treating cooking as science.
However, Minjoon was now one hundred percent sure he was correct. The deeper he thought and approached his goals, the more clearly he discerned the sense he needed—and how to compensate for what he lacked.
In truth, he felt his mind might explode. He thought he knew cooking, but in reality, his understanding was superficial. What did knowing about the Maillard reaction matter if he couldn’t grasp every detail of how it permeated meat?
Suddenly, he realised how talented Kaya was. She instinctively perceived what ordinary cooks could only achieve after decades of painstaking research. For example, whereas a runner trains meticulously for perfect posture, Kaya simply let instinct guide her.
Maybe Kaya has already mastered the know-how of sensuous cuisine.
He wasn’t sure if she had reached his cooking level 9, but if so, it might be because she fully understood not just sensuous cuisine but also fundamental cooking.
Could she reach level 9 by mastering kitchen leadership?
Thinking that suddenly made him tense. He had just reached cooking level 8, but he didn’t want to lag behind her in level 9.
Once they reached level 9, moving to level 10 would be a very long journey—it might take decades. The difference between levels 9 and 10 was like perfection itself. To ordinary people, a two per cent gap seemed minor, but for Rachel, it meant lifelong wandering because she could never fill that gap.
In any case, Minjoon wanted to reach level 9 a bit sooner. If he achieved it later than expected, he might live feeling inferior to Kaya even when they both reached level 10. Of course, Kaya wouldn’t be able to visually gauge their cooking levels like him.
He wished that every time he looked at Kaya’s face, he wouldn’t feel inferior. If he were truly confident, such feelings wouldn’t matter, but sadly, he was not that strong.
He was weak. Yet weak people have their own ways to fight.
So, reviewing over a thousand recipes meticulously was all he could do.
Among the submissions, mediocre recipes were rare. Even if the standard wasn’t met, their originality was fresh.
He memorised each recipe thoroughly. He was confident in his retention.
What he had to do now was to find answers to the questions each recipe raised.
“You know you’re not spending as much time with me as before, right?”
Come to think of it, she had a point.
They were on a plane. He reviewed printed recipes and looked at Kaya.
She met his gaze with dissatisfaction.
“It’s fine for you to focus on cooking, but can’t you lead a more normal life? We’re about to be married. Our wedding is near, you know.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Shall we talk about the Grand Chef?”
“Why here? We’ll meet them soon enough at the venue.”
“Well, I need to sort out my thoughts.”
Minjoon wondered if that was necessary. She sighed, looking at him.
“I’m a little uneasy.”
“You’re a judge. Why worry?”
“I’m afraid I won’t judge properly. I’m human. When I see Gwen and Peter, I’ll want one to win. I’m worried I might unconsciously be biased—even if I don’t notice it.”
“You might be subconsciously biased, but your taste won’t,” he said with a mischievous smile. He was serious. The more time he spent with her, the clearer he saw the value of her palate.