Chapter 70: Footprints in Front of His Feet (1)
Chapter 70: Footprints in Front of His Feet (1)
Six days had passed since the food-truck mission and their meal at the three-star restaurant. During that time, they hadn’t been given a single new mission. Perhaps the production team was being considerate after making them suffer through a full week in the trucks, or perhaps, as before, the judges’ schedules simply hadn’t lined up.
Even without a mission, however, one episode had aired. Yesterday’s seventh episode covered the team mission—the episode in which Kaya and Jacob ended up on separate teams, and Peter caused trouble.
And……
Jo Minjoon shifted his gaze.
Peter had been sitting at the counter staring at his phone for quite some time. It was understandable. After the broadcast ended, the two people everyone talked about most were Peter and Kaya. Martin was a professional. Just because Peter had been upset afterwards didn’t mean he would edit the scene to make Peter look better.
Everything Peter had said had gone out exactly as it happened. Even taking his emotional immaturity into account, his words had been far too harsh to simply overlook. He had attacked Kaya’s character.
Jo Minjoon understood why Peter had acted that way. He knew Peter was mentally immature, had difficulty getting along with others, and struggled to control himself. But the viewers didn’t know that. Even if they did, most of them probably wouldn’t care. To them, those explanations were nothing more than words.
Peter had become the villain.
Far more people than Jo Minjoon expected were venting their anger at him.
Some viewers questioned whether the situation was entirely one-sided. They admitted Peter’s words had been vicious, but wondered if Kaya had provoked him first. Even so, whatever Kaya had done couldn’t erase Peter’s own mistake. Worse, after insulting her like that, he had also burnt the tandoori chicken. The more invested people became in the programme, the more intense their anger seemed to grow.
Jo Minjoon sighed.
“……I told you not to read the comments.”
His voice was too low for Peter to hear.
And even if Peter had heard him, there was no guarantee he would listen. Kaya was the same. You might tell yourself not to look, but once you had checked the comments even once, it became difficult not to go back again whenever you were online.
Jo Minjoon’s situation, at least, was comparatively good.
More precisely, people had originally assumed he was being pushed on screen for some sort of romantic storyline. But after his absolute sense of taste was revealed, their opinions changed. They started viewing everything he did as though there had been a reason behind it all along. Even the slight sense of distance created by his being Asian was now being treated as something distinctive that worked in his favour.
People began calling him a genius whose way of thinking was beyond what ordinary viewers could understand.
Honestly, Jo Minjoon didn’t hate it.
It was burdensome at times, but it also left him flustered enough to laugh. People liked him. Complete strangers whose faces he had never seen were placing expectations on his name.
It was a strange feeling.
“We’re about to start filming! Everyone, put your phones away!”
The staff member’s voice rang out firmly.
Peter hurriedly slipped his phone into his apron pocket. Soon afterwards, the judges entered.
As always, they exchanged a few words to set the mood before Joseph spoke calmly.
“There is a box at each of your stations. On the count of three, everyone open the lid. One, two, three!”
The contestants opened their boxes almost simultaneously.
Some sighed in relief.
Others frowned.
Jo Minjoon belonged to the latter group.
In front of him lay a broad, flat piece of meat—or, more precisely, a cut of meat attached to a bone.
It wasn’t exactly a welcome sight.
T-bone.
A cut containing both strip steak and tenderloin.
Joseph’s expression was serious, without even a hint of laughter.
“T-bone isn’t necessarily the most delicious cut of beef. That depends on personal preference. But I can say this much with certainty: among steaks, T-bone is one of the most difficult cuts to cook properly. If you expose both sides to the same heat, the strip side and the tenderloin side will not cook at exactly the same rate. Naturally, what we want from you is for both sections to reach as close to the same degree of doneness as possible.”
Several sighs sounded around the room.
This was a challenge that depended almost entirely on skill. One careless mistake could ruin everything.
Fortunately, Joseph’s next words relieved some of the tension.
“However, there is no need to be too nervous. This is only a warm-up mission. The contestant who places first will receive an advantage: exemption from the elimination challenge that follows.”
At that, several pairs of eyes brightened.
Jo Minjoon also exhaled in relief.
He doubted he could take first place.
T-bone was difficult to find in Korea. Most butchers sold strip steak and tenderloin separately, and very few places sold the whole T-bone cut. Even large supermarkets didn’t always carry it.
Naturally, his experience with it was limited.
Jo Minjoon examined the meat.
It was only about two centimetres thick. That wasn’t exactly thin, but it wasn’t particularly thick either. And steak was generally easier to cook when it was thicker.
There was no helping it.
The thinner the meat, the shorter the time it could stay over heat. It was easy to try to sear the outside properly only to discover that the inside had already overcooked.
“We will not be using sauce,” Joseph continued. “Season only with salt and pepper. Remember, the most important point is that both sections must be cooked to the same degree. Of course, flavour is still fundamental. Begin. You have exactly ten minutes.”
Jo Minjoon immediately started thinking.
There wasn’t some secret technique for cooking a T-bone. In the end, you had to rely on your senses and experience.
In fact, he had heard that some steakhouses tested prospective cooks using T-bone specifically because it revealed their skill so clearly.
Making it edible wasn’t difficult. You could eat it even if the two sides ended up at slightly different levels of doneness. If the strip reached medium while the tenderloin stayed medium-rare, there were customers who actually enjoyed that contrast.
(Translator’s Note: Medium-rare — A common steak doneness indicating the meat is pink and warm in the centre, usually cooked to an internal temperature of about 57-63°C (135-145°F). It is valued for balancing tenderness and juiciness.)
But there were also customers who wanted both sections cooked evenly.
If a chef couldn’t satisfy that kind of request, could they really call themselves complete?
What mattered now was choosing a method.
Jo Minjoon glanced sideways.
Kaya had taken out a grill.
Apparently, she planned to cook the steak directly over the heat. With her exceptional sense for fire, that might genuinely be the best choice for her.
But it wasn’t a method Jo Minjoon could imitate.
Why had he been so impressed when he saw Kaya grill eel before? Because he understood how difficult it was to control direct heat. If he copied her carelessly, he would probably end up burning the outside.
Jo Minjoon trimmed off some of the fat and rubbed cracked pepper over the meat for aroma.
He didn’t salt it yet.
Getting the steak to medium would take roughly four minutes, and with resting time included, around five. If he salted it now and let it sit, osmotic pressure would draw moisture to the surface. That liquid would interfere with the heat of the pan, weaken the sear, and waste some of the meat’s juices.
Unless he intended to let it rest with the salt for around forty minutes, it was better to salt it immediately before cooking.
Jo Minjoon looked around again.
Then his brows twitched.
He had spotted something he couldn’t understand.
Peter was heating the oven.
Apparently Alan was thinking the same thing, because he walked over and asked, “……How are you planning to cook it?”
“First I’ll cook it in the oven. Then I’ll sear the outside in a frying pan and let it rest.”
“Do you think you can control the doneness of both sections that way?”
“If I keep the tenderloin side near the edge of the pan, I think it’ll cook less.”
“……I see. Let’s find out.”
Peter’s expression immediately darkened.
He had probably believed his method had a chance, but a few words from Alan were enough to shake his confidence. Even so, he couldn’t change direction now just because of one comment.
Most of the contestants were still letting their steaks rest.
Five minutes passed.
The instant the clock reached that point, everyone who had been watching the second hand began moving.
Jo Minjoon brushed off the coarse pepper, added salt, then rendered some of the trimmed fat in the pan.
A sharp sizzling sound filled the air.
Alan approached. “Have you cooked T-bone before?”
“Almost never.”
“Pay attention to where the strongest heat is reaching the pan. That alone will help considerably.”
Jo Minjoon had already been planning to do exactly that, but he merely smiled. He wasn’t so childish that he would react sharply to sincere advice.
As Alan had said, controlling where the pan received the strongest heat was the priority.
Jo Minjoon positioned the pan so that the tenderloin side sat over the hotter section. But the difference in heat couldn’t be too extreme. If he overcompensated, the tenderloin would end up more cooked than the strip.
Every chef had their own opinion about how often steak should be flipped. Some insisted you should turn it no more than twice. Others said once every minute, or even once every thirty seconds.
Jo Minjoon preferred flipping it once a minute.
That way, the juices concentrated towards the centre would redistribute through the meat as it rested, helping it retain a fuller texture.
Rather than one method being absolutely right or wrong, Jo Minjoon thought it was mostly a matter of preference.
He watched the clock and flipped the steak.
He deliberately avoided arroser, the technique of repeatedly basting the meat with hot fat or butter. It would divide his concentration, and the added fat might also alter the cooking point. Jo Minjoon wasn’t experienced enough yet to judge precisely how much that extra heat would affect the meat.
The system estimated the cooking score at 6.
There was no helping that.
He was simply cooking steak with salt and pepper, without any sauce or more elaborate preparation. It was difficult for such a simple dish to score much higher.
Jo Minjoon was aiming for medium.
After flipping the steak exactly three times, he transferred it to a kitchen towel.
Now all he had to do was let it rest for one minute so the juices could redistribute.
He didn’t know whether both sides had reached medium perfectly, but at the very least, he was confident it would taste good.
The buzzer sounded.
Every contestant immediately took their hands away from their dishes.
Jo Minjoon looked down at his steak.
After resting, the system still showed a cooking score of 6.
Exactly what the estimated score had predicted.
The judges began calling the contestants forward one by one.
They cut into both the tenderloin and strip sections. If the two sides showed noticeably different doneness, they didn’t even bother tasting the steak.
Peter was one of those cases.
“I asked you earlier whether you thought you could control it. Look.”
Alan held up the sliced steak.
One side was medium.
The other was medium-rare.
The difference was obvious.
Emily sighed.
“Even though this isn’t an elimination challenge, this is still too careless. Don’t you understand that cooking isn’t something where you can casually take risks?”
“……I’m sorry.” Peter barely managed to answer, his face pale.
The comments from viewers were clearly still weighing on him, and even the judges seemed reluctant to press him much harder after seeing his expression.
They sent him back and called the next contestant.
Anderson.
Joseph sliced into both sections and smiled.
“Both are medium-well. Neither side is burnt, and the doneness is exactly right. You’re very experienced, Anderson. For a while, it seemed like you weren’t showing your full ability, but it looks like you’ve returned to form.”
“Thank you.”
Anderson answered without smiling.
He couldn’t celebrate yet.
He hadn’t been declared first.
After tasting the steak, the judges praised it even more. All three agreed that Anderson’s steak was juicier and had a fuller flavour than the steaks cooked to medium.
Jo Minjoon understood their evaluation.
Getting that kind of result with nothing but salt and pepper meant that with a proper sauce, Anderson could probably have produced an eight-point dish.
Jo Minjoon was called next.
He walked forward calmly and set down his plate.
Emily picked up her knife and sliced into both sections, then nodded.
“Medium. Both sides are cooked almost exactly the same. There is a very slight difference, but even a particularly picky customer probably wouldn’t complain. You said you had almost no experience with T-bone, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Taking that into account, this is excellent. And the texture…… Mmm. This is good. You retained the juices well too. Nicely done.”
Compared with what they had said to Anderson, this was more of a compliment than outright praise.
Jo Minjoon felt a little disappointed because he had secretly been hoping for more, but there was nothing he could do.
Experience mattered.
The final contestant to be evaluated was Kaya.
She stepped forward carrying her plate.
Joseph looked at it with interest.
“You were the only one who chose to grill over direct heat. Kaya, are you confident in that decision?”
“My strongest point is controlling fire. If I hadn’t become a cook, I probably would’ve become an arsonist.”
“I’ll trust you, then.”
Joseph sliced into the meat with smooth movements.
Just as Kaya had claimed, both sections were medium. The interiors were evenly pink, with the tenderloin and strip showing almost identical doneness.
Joseph slowly put a piece into his mouth.
At the first bite, his expression brightened.
But as he continued chewing, his face gradually changed.
The other judges reacted the same way.
Kaya watched them nervously.
“This is well cooked,” Joseph said. “But Kaya, I think you forgot one thing. Did you cook the sides first and then move on to the interior?”
At those words, Kaya’s face immediately changed.
She had forgotten.
She had been so focused on balancing the doneness between the two sections that she had failed to properly sear the exterior first to lock in the juices.
Jo Minjoon looked at her steak.
Unfortunately, its cooking score was only 5.
There was no helping it. Losing so much juice meant she had missed one of the fundamentals.
Even Kaya slips up sometimes.
Excluding the time she had rebelled against her own team because of her temper, this was the first time Jo Minjoon had seen her make such a clear technical mistake.
Joseph spoke gently. “You seem to understand what you did wrong. Good. Kaya, chefs who recognise their own mistakes tend to grow. Go back to your station.”
“……Yes.”
Kaya returned looking dejected.
At this point, the winner was obvious.
Several contestants had managed to cook both sections evenly, but only one had done so while also receiving clear praise for flavour.
Anderson.
Jo Minjoon looked at him.
Anderson was the type who regularly showed how capable he was, but the more Jo Minjoon watched him, the harder it became to underestimate his skills. He had once lost to Kaya and taken second place, but that also meant that without Kaya there, he would have won.
After a brief discussion, Joseph faced them again.
“We’ve decided who will take first place. The decision was fairly easy. Anderson, congratulations. You are exempt from the elimination challenge. Go to the second floor.”
“Thank you.”
Anderson answered calmly and walked away.
The other contestants watched his back with openly envious expressions.
Once he was gone, Alan spoke.
“Now I’ll announce the next mission. Some of you probably won’t like this one very much.”
As he said that, Alan glanced directly at Jo Minjoon.
Jo Minjoon’s brows twitched.
He had a bad feeling.
Alan continued calmly.
“The theme of this mission is…… dessert.”