Chapter 66: Temptation of Three Stars (1)
Chapter 66: Temptation of Three Stars (1)
Michelin. And three stars, at that. Just how sweet did those words sound? It wasn’t pleasant to think about Hugo’s team having to face the elimination challenge, but even so, Jo Minjoon felt more flustered than disappointed.
Alan spoke in a dry voice. “The winning team will leave immediately. Your meal is already waiting for you. Enjoy tonight comfortably. You’ve earned the right.”
Jo Minjoon glanced at Hugo’s team. They were forcing themselves to look calm, but none of them could completely hide their disappointment. He wanted to encourage them, but honestly, he knew that even if he did, he would still feel uneasy. In the end, Jo Minjoon turned away without saying anything and walked off, his teammates slowly following behind him.
When they reached the car park, the food truck they had arrived in was already gone. Anderson muttered helplessly, “It’s gone. The truck.”
“Weird. Why do I keep feeling regretful?”
It felt a little like graduating from school. As they stared at the empty car park, a familiar voice sounded behind them.
“Congratulations. Honestly, when I heard you were doing norimaki, I wasn’t sure about your chances. But in the end, you pulled it off.”
“……Why are you here? Don’t you have to stay with the team going into the elimination challenge?”
“The main PD should always be where the most important thing is happening. And the place I need to be right now……” Martin slowly extended one finger from his closed fist and pointed directly at Jo Minjoon. “Is here.”
Jo Minjoon didn’t argue. He could roughly guess what Martin was thinking. The restaurant they were heading to was none other than Rose Island, and the owner of Rose Island herself had come to see him only yesterday. A young chef who had caught Rachel Rose’s attention, a chef with an absolute sense of taste, was now about to enter Rose Island. It wasn’t unreasonable for Martin to think the footage would be good.
Joanne spoke with a tremor in her voice. “Wasn’t this supposed to be a reward? Are cameras going to surround us while we eat too? I’d feel so uncomfortable I wouldn’t even be able to enjoy the food.”
“If that bothers you, you can stay behind and rest in your room.”
“No, who said I was staying behind? Why are you acting like that? That’s scary.” Joanne pouted and grumbled.
Ivanna looked at her and asked, “Should I bring some food back for you?”
“No, I said I’m going. Why are you doing it too?”
At Joanne’s complaint, the corners of Ivanna’s mouth lifted into a smile.
Martin coughed lightly just as a black van slowly pulled up beside them. “It’ll take at least thirty or forty minutes to reach the restaurant. Prepare yourselves.”
“Prepare for what?”
Martin smirked. “To face the best food of your lives.”
Martin had said that eating at Rose Island would be an unforgettable experience, and Jo Minjoon agreed that much was probably true. But would it really become the best meal of his life? He wasn’t certain. Three Michelin stars were the highest distinction a restaurant could receive, but just because there was nothing above three stars, did that mean a restaurant could truly become perfect? Was there really such a thing as a perfect dish? Facing that question now, Jo Minjoon wasn’t as confident as he had once been.
“……What are you all going to choose from the menu?”
“Obviously the recommended course. If you haven’t been there before, that’s the best choice,” Anderson answered as though there were nothing to consider.
Peter, who was searching online, said, “I looked it up. Apparently, they have two signature courses. One is plant-focused, and the other is animal-focused.”
“Then obviously the animal one.”
“I like meat too.”
At Joanne’s and Ivanna’s answers, Jo Minjoon silently nodded as well. He wasn’t particularly obsessed with meat, but there was still a considerable difference in richness between dishes that contained meat and dishes that didn’t. Of course, given Rose Island’s reputation, the vegetable-based course would undoubtedly be excellent too, but they still couldn’t help thinking the meat course would be more satisfying.
Jo Minjoon asked, “Which one do customers respond to better?”
“Obviously the animal-focused one. A whole course without meat sounds too boring.”
“Then I’ll go with that too.”
They talked excitedly like children until Rose Island finally came into view. The building was constructed from stacked light-brown bricks. It had five floors, but each storey was so tall that the entire structure looked more like a seven-storey building.
Jo Minjoon stared up at it after getting out of the van. “……Surely all those floors aren’t part of the restaurant?”
“Considering service logistics, that would be difficult in a building like this. Unless they have some kind of food lift. In the first place, even just taking orders throughout a building this large would be troublesome.”
“That’s true. Anderson, what was your parents’ restaurant like? From the way you’re talking, it sounds like it was all on one floor. How many tables did you have?”
“Fifty. With the work divided between everyone, that was about the limit.”
“And which one of them was the head chef?”
“That’s a family secret.” Anderson smirked.
Seeing him act like that only made Jo Minjoon more curious. Normally, a kitchen couldn’t have two head chefs. In that sense, a married couple working together would generally have to avoid placing one directly above the other. Just what kind of arrangement did Anderson’s parents have? He wouldn’t get the answer right now, and in any case, he was far more curious about the dishes they were about to see and taste.
“Welcome. I’ll show you to your table.”
The server who came to greet them was so strikingly beautiful that she seemed to brighten the space around her. Looking down on someone for being unattractive would be shallow, but feeling naturally well-disposed towards someone beautiful was an instinct difficult to avoid.
After guiding them to a round table, the server took their order and left.
Jo Minjoon stared blankly at her retreating back. If even the servers looked this impressive, he felt as though the status of the food had already risen before he had tasted a single bite.
He muttered, “What are people like that doing working here instead of modelling?”
“I’ve heard people say the same thing. That all the employees here look like mo……dels.”
Peter’s voice trailed off because five servers had approached their table. After exchanging glances, they set down five plates almost simultaneously. This was the kind of service one expected from a luxury restaurant. They didn’t know what practical meaning the synchronisation had, but it unmistakably gave them the feeling of being treated as special guests.
Still, what caught their attention even more than the service was what lay on the plate—or rather, the plate itself. There were four kinds of amuse-bouche arranged on it, each one looking excellent, yet the serving surface was so unusual that it almost overshadowed the food. It was a piece of wood, more precisely, a lightly charred wooden plank.
(Translator’s Note: Amuse-bouche —A small complimentary preparation served at the chef’s discretion before the formal courses of a fine-dining meal. Unlike an appetiser ordered from a menu, an amuse-bouche normally functions as an introduction to the chef’s style and prepares the palate for the meal. The modern term became strongly associated with French haute cuisine and later international fine dining during the twentieth century)
Jo Minjoon looked towards the server assigned to them. She was a woman with thick blonde hair and a hooked nose. Her name was Elly.
“The plate is really unusual.”
“We took a stave from a whisky barrel and lightly charred it.”
“Oh…… That’s nice.”
Jo Minjoon lifted the plank slightly and smelled it. There really was a faint whisky aroma, and the scent of charred wood was pleasant as well.
Elly poured Henriot champagne into his glass.
Jo Minjoon looked back at the food. “There are four different things here. Is there a particular order we should eat them in?”
“You may eat them in whichever order you like.” Elly smiled gently.
Jo Minjoon smiled back and turned his attention to the amuse-bouche. Some people felt embarrassed to ask questions in a fine-dining restaurant. They might think, for instance, that asking about the characteristics of a particular steak cut revealed ignorance. Jo Minjoon disagreed. If someone suppressed their curiosity even when faced with unfamiliar things like these, then they weren’t properly enjoying the restaurant culture in the first place.
Joanne asked, “Minjoon, are you confident you can identify all the ingredients again this time?”
The corner of Jo Minjoon’s mouth lifted. It wasn’t because he was confident. He simply found it amusing to imagine that the chefs here might not care about his evaluation at all.
Jo Minjoon looked down at the amuse-bouche arranged before him. Amuse-bouche wasn’t the name of a particular dish, but a role. It was a bite-sized preparation intended to awaken the palate. It was also different from an appetiser. An amuse-bouche wasn’t usually listed on the menu and was served at the chef’s discretion, and in any case, its portion was far too small to call a normal appetiser. But that didn’t mean an amuse-bouche was insignificant.
The first thing to catch his attention was a yellow gougère. It was the simplest-looking of the four. At first glance, it resembled a tiny cream puff, no larger than a marble, topped with a coriander leaf. But the reason it drew his attention had nothing to do with appearance. Its cooking score was 9, and just seeing that number made his mouth dry.
(Translator’s Note: Gougère — A savoury French choux pastry containing cheese, particularly associated with Burgundy. Traditional versions commonly use Gruyère or Comté. Gougères developed within French choux-pastry traditions and became established as wine accompaniments and appetisers in Burgundy.)
Without hesitation, Jo Minjoon placed the gougère in his mouth. The exterior was soft yet slightly rough, and when he bit into it, the cheese inside burst out. The cheese wasn’t overly salty and had a rich, savoury flavour. Then the aroma of coriander spread across his tongue and down towards his throat. Unexpectedly, there was also a faint banana fragrance in the thin shell. It didn’t seem as though they had used banana syrup. Most likely, dried banana powder had been incorporated into the dough.
It was the first gougère Jo Minjoon had ever tasted, but if every gougère tasted like this, he felt as though he could become addicted to eating them every day. The flavour was deep and distinct enough to provoke such a thought, yet at the same time, it remained strangely light. Despite clearly containing cheese, it never felt heavy.
Jo Minjoon stared down at the wooden plate in disbelief. How could something so small taste this good? He almost regretted eating it. It had been so delicious that the fact it ended in a single bite felt almost despairing.
His gaze drifted towards Anderson’s plate beside him, where the gougère still remained.
Anderson immediately shifted one arm between them. “Your eyes are dangerous.”
“……You’re imagining things.” Jo Minjoon grumbled and looked back at his own plate.
Three pieces remained.
He moved his spoon towards a slice of orange covered in a translucent orange coating. Even without tasting it, he could tell what the coating was made from. Dried paprika. Simply put, it was a slice of orange wrapped in a caramelised dried-paprika coating.
Its score was 8. Compared with the 9-point gougère, it should have been slightly inferior. At least, that was what he thought.
The moment he put it into his mouth, the first thing he noticed was the smoky aroma from the charred wooden plank. Then he bit down, and a moan escaped him before he could stop it. It was delicious, even more delicious than the previous bite.
Of course, the score wasn’t everything. Even with a 9-point dish, Jo Minjoon wasn’t naturally drawn to foods centred around cheese. But this slice of orange was different. The coating shattered between his teeth, releasing the sweet, vivid flavour of dried paprika, and immediately afterwards, the orange juice burst out.
At that moment, Jo Minjoon’s eyes unexpectedly began to sting with tears. The flavour was astonishing. In comics, characters who ate something extraordinarily delicious would sometimes imagine the back of a woman in a straw hat, or an open plain, or a cliff overlooking the sea. For the first time, Jo Minjoon understood what that kind of imagery was trying to convey.
It felt too captivating and complete to describe merely as the sweetness and acidity of orange combined with the flavour of paprika. If someone had told him this deserved 9 points instead of 8, he wouldn’t have questioned it. It was that good.
Jo Minjoon exhaled and leaned back in his chair. He had only taken two bites, yet the flavours they had left behind were so powerful and startling that he already felt drained. Still, he couldn’t stop now.
Two more remained.
Ivanna looked towards his plate. “Minjoon, if you’re not going to eat that……”
“I am.” Jo Minjoon answered firmly and straightened his posture.
Ivanna bit her finger regretfully while he turned his attention to the third item.
“……Is that black lime?”
(Translator’s Note: Black lime —Whole limes that are blanched or boiled and then dried until hard and dark brown or black. They are particularly important in Persian Gulf, Iraqi, Iranian, and neighbouring Middle Eastern cuisines, where their concentrated sour, fermented, and slightly bitter flavour is used in stews, rice dishes, and spice mixtures.)
Black lime was a well-known Middle Eastern ingredient. Limes were briefly simmered in salted water, then dried under the sun until they turned brown or nearly black. The process concentrated their natural acidity intensely within the dried flesh. They could be eaten as they were, but were more commonly used as a seasoning ingredient in other dishes.
On top of the thinly sliced black lime was saffron purée and what appeared to be anise hyssop. Jo Minjoon hesitated for a moment, worried that the sourness might be overwhelming, but the previous two dishes gave him courage, and that courage wasn’t misplaced.
At first, he barely noticed anything. But once he chewed, the concentrated acidity of the lime spread through his mouth, followed by the refreshing aromas of saffron and anise hyssop. Compared with the orange slice, it moved him less emotionally, but he couldn’t imagine the flavour in his mouth becoming any better suited to its purpose. His salivary glands were already working furiously.
It was almost a shame to erase the lingering aroma from his mouth, but that wasn’t enough reason to leave the final bite untouched. Jo Minjoon looked towards his last opponent. A beautiful green cream had been placed on top of a crisp rolled wafer.
This time, he didn’t even bother checking the system before putting it in his mouth. Apple flavour spread across his tongue, accompanied by the fragrance of an unfamiliar herb. According to the system, the herb was a leaf called hierba santa, something Jo Minjoon had never even heard of before.
(Translator’s Note: Hierba santa — A large aromatic leaf native to Mexico and parts of Central America. It has a distinctive fragrance often compared with anise, pepper, or sassafras and has long been used in Mexican regional cooking, particularly in Oaxaca, Veracruz, and surrounding areas, for sauces, tamales, wrapping foods, and flavouring dishes.)
But there was no need to dwell on its unfamiliarity. The flavour was excellent. The crisp wheat wafer, together with the cream and fragrant herb on top, finally pushed him beyond restraint. It was a dish that seemed to carry status within the flavour itself.
Jo Minjoon stared blankly at the now-empty wooden plank. The food was so delicious that it made him happy, and precisely because of that, it also made him uneasy. If cooking could truly become this delicious—if it could really reach a level like this—then what exactly did that mean for him?
But this wasn’t the time to worry about such things.
The appetiser hadn’t even begun yet.