Chapter 77: Spring, Spring, Spring (1)
Chapter 77: Spring, Spring, Spring (1)
May. The weather was pleasant, and flowers were beginning to bloom throughout the garden. Jo Minjoon sat on a bench with earphones in his ears and a book in his hands. From a distance, the scene looked almost picturesque, though the book he was holding was not literature but a cookbook.
Kaya looked at him and frowned as though something about the sight displeased her. She walked over and spoke in her usual rough voice.
“What are you listening to?” Without waiting for an answer, Kaya pulled one of the earphones from Jo Minjoon’s ear and put it in her own. She immediately frowned. “Classical?”
“More precisely, Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor… What’s with that expression?”
(Translator’s Note: Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor —A major Romantic-era violin concerto by German composer Felix Mendelssohn. He began planning it in 1838, completed it in 1844, and it premiered in Leipzig on 13 March 1845, performed by violinist Ferdinand David.)
“How much more boring do you have to become before you’re satisfied?”
“…What’s wrong with classical music? If you’re not going to listen, give it back.”
Jo Minjoon frowned and tried to take the earphone from her, but Kaya covered her ear with one hand and stopped him.
“Who said I’m not listening? It’s better than listening to the wind.” With that, Kaya perched on the arm of the bench and leaned over to look at the page Jo Minjoon was reading. She frowned again. “Why are there so many difficult words?”
“They’re from your country’s language.”
“Those are alien words disguised as English.”
Jo Minjoon shrugged. It was not entirely unreasonable for Kaya to say that. Many of the terms in the book were derived from French or Spanish, and even Jo Minjoon sometimes had to look unfamiliar words up in a dictionary.
Because Kaya had leaned closer to read the book, her breath tickled the side of his neck. Jo Minjoon glanced at her briefly.
“Are you bored?”
“I’ve got nothing to do, but I’m not bored.”
“How can you have nothing to do and still not be bored?” Kaya simply looked at him.
Jo Minjoon could see his own reflection in her large, round eyes beneath the dark eyeliner framing them. He had no intention of continuing to stare into them like a mirror, so he quickly looked away.
Why was it that the moment he looked directly at her face, he became embarrassed?
Jo Minjoon cleared his throat. “Why don’t you exercise like Chloe?”
“You don’t exercise much either. Didn’t I tell you? A man needs some muscle before you can call him a man.”
“There’s no need for me to become your ideal man.”
“…That’s true.” Kaya rubbed her lips as though she wanted to say something, then scratched her head instead.
Jo Minjoon looked at her with obvious discomfort. Her dishevelled hair had caught his attention.
“Did you wash your hair?”
“I did. Last night.”
“Even if you washed it last night, you should wash it again after you wake up.”
“My scalp is dry. I don’t need to wash it that often. What? Why are you looking at me like that? This isn’t me being dirty. You’re just excessively clean.”
“…We need someone impartial. Chloe!”
Still frowning, Jo Minjoon waved at Chloe, who happened to be passing nearby.
Chloe approached in tight dark-blue sportswear. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked at them in confusion.
“Why are you calling me?”
“We need someone to settle something. If you wash your hair at night, is it fine not to wash it again the next morning?”
“Hmm. I wash mine fairly often because I sweat when I exercise.”
“But you do wash it after you wake up, right?”
“I usually… do. Why?”
Jo Minjoon did not answer. Instead, he turned towards Kaya with a victorious smile.
One look at Kaya’s furious expression was enough for Chloe to understand what had happened. She smiled wryly. “You’re arguing over whether to wash your hair now? I can understand Kaya doing that, but… Minjoon, you’re a child too.”
“Wait. Why do you understand me doing it?”
“Because you’re Kaya?” Chloe answered with a beautiful smile.
It really was a beautiful smile, the kind no one with functioning eyes could dislike. Kaya felt almost envious enough to want the same sort of smile herself, although she knew something like that would never suit her.
Kaya stood up with an irritated expression. The movement pulled the earphone cord taut, causing one earbud to pop free. It did not come out of Kaya’s ear, but Jo Minjoon’s.
Kaya exaggeratedly widened her eyes. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t wash my hair this morning, and I even pulled your earphone out?”
Jo Minjoon snorted. “Just make lunch.”
-
[Me: How are things going?]
[Marco: So-so. I’m slowly looking for somewhere to work.]
[Me: I think plenty of pâtissiers would want you.]
(Translator’s Note: Pâtissier — A professional pastry chef specialising in pastries, desserts and other baked preparations. The position is distinct from general savoury kitchen roles in the traditional French culinary system.)
[Marco: The reactions from the places I’ve applied to have been pretty good, but I’ll know once the results come out.]
Jo Minjoon smiled at the reply.
The skills Marco had shown on television had clearly been above average. Even without considering his actual ability, simply hiring him would probably increase a restaurant’s popularity. That was how much influence Grand Chef had in the United States.
[Me: Let me know when you get a job. I’ll come visit. Of course, I’ll need to still be in the US by then.]
[Marco: Okay, thanks. :>]
Jo Minjoon put his mobile phone away.
His own creation was nearly finished in the oven.
What he was making was tarte Tatin, a French apple tart.
(Translator’s Note: Tarte Tatin —A French upside-down caramelised apple tart associated with sisters Stéphanie and Caroline Tatin of the Hôtel Tatin in Lamotte-Beuvron, France. The dish became associated with their hotel during the late nineteenth century, particularly the 1880s–1890s, before becoming established in French restaurant culture during the twentieth century.)
The recipe was straightforward. Like most baking, it began with the dough. He sifted flour into a mound, made a hollow in the middle, then poured in cold water and salt. Slowly incorporating the water while forming the dough was the most important part. In truth, half the final quality of the pastry was already decided at this stage.
After forming the dough, he shaped it into a cross and flattened it. He placed butter in the centre, folded the four sides over it like a ttakji, then rolled the dough into a square. After that, he folded it, rolled it out again, folded it once more, and repeated the process five times. There was a similar technique used when making certain kinds of udon dough.
(Translator’s Note: Ttakji— A traditional Korean folded-paper tile used in children’s games. Players commonly attempt to flip an opponent’s ttakji by striking it with their own. The game predates its modern television popularity and belongs to Korea’s traditional children’s play culture.)
Once that was done, the rest was easy.
He spread butter across a heated pan and sprinkled sugar over it. Then he arranged cored apple wedges on top. After heating them for twenty to thirty minutes, the apple juices, butter, and sugar caramelised and browned together.
He covered the apples with the pastry dough he had prepared earlier, then pierced a few holes in it so that steam from the apples would not make the pastry soggy. After that, all he had to do was bake it in a preheated oven at between 180 and 200 degrees Celsius.
There was only one final step.
Carefully turning the tarte Tatin upside down.
Then the pastry that had been on the bottom would become the base, while the richly browned apples, glossy with butter and caramel, would be revealed on top.
The tarte Tatin Jo Minjoon had made turned out fairly well.
[Tarte Tatin]
Freshness: 96%
Origins: (Too many ingredients to show)
Quality: High
Cooking Score: 6/10
There was nothing particularly inventive about it, but he had followed the fundamentals faithfully. Considering that his baking level was only 5, it was not a bad result.
Actually, getting a 6-point score seemed somewhat easier with baked dishes. Perhaps his cooking level influenced the result to some degree. After all, there was a difference between someone who already knew how to cook learning to bake and someone with no cooking experience learning from scratch.
“Did it come out well?” Anderson approached and asked.
In his hands was a plate of mille-feuille. The white cream peeking between the layers of pastry looked even more appetising than Jo Minjoon’s tarte Tatin, and its cooking score was 7.
(Translator’s Note: Mille-feuille —A layered pastry made from sheets of puff pastry alternated with pastry cream or another filling. Layered pastries of this kind were documented in France by the seventeenth century, including in François Pierre de La Varenne’s 1651 Le Cuisinier françois, while the modern pâtisserie form developed further during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.)
Jo Minjoon swallowed.
Anderson immediately took a step back, looking wary. “You can’t eat it yet. We agreed we’d eat everything together once the broadcast starts.”
“…You might have messed it up. I can taste it for you.”
“Sorry. I already did.” Anderson said it while raising one corner of his mouth.
Jo Minjoon sighed.
At that moment, Kaya bumped lightly against him as she passed. She was carrying a plate with a cheesecake on it, but what caught Jo Minjoon’s attention was her smooth, glossy hair.
Just how much shampoo and conditioner had she used?
The scent of apple and lime reached his nose, and her hair looked as polished as a model’s in a commercial. Kaya walked a few steps, then glanced back at him.
Anderson smirked. “What’s with her?”
“She’s Kaya.”
Anderson nodded as though that explained everything.
She’s Kaya.
Why did those two words sound so convincing?
The three of them were not the only people in the kitchen. Chloe, Sasha, Joanne, Ivanna, and Hugo were there as well. All eight remaining contestants had gathered.
They were not cooking dinner, since they had already eaten. What they were preparing now were snacks to enjoy while watching the broadcast.
Jo Minjoon spoke regretfully. “It would’ve been nice if Marco were still here. I haven’t had a soufflé as good as his.”
“You’re only saying that because you haven’t tried mine yet.”
“…Why are you so obnoxious?”
“The world tends to send jealousy instead of angels to good people.”
“I think that only applies to people who are halfway decent.”
“If I’m halfway decent at my age, then in ten years I’ll be outstanding.”
Jo Minjoon shook his head in exasperation.
Normally, the closer you became to someone, the more unfamiliar sides of them you discovered, until eventually you saw them in a completely different light.
But Anderson had remained remarkably consistent in at least one respect.
“Shameless bastard.”
“You’re not much better.” Anderson replied calmly.
Jo Minjoon turned towards him in disbelief. “I’m shameless?”
“You say that with such a straight face and then act surprised when someone tells you. See? Isn’t that shameless?”
“…Maybe a little?”
“I thought your English was good, but I suppose a foreigner is still a foreigner. In this situation, you don’t say ‘a little’. You say ‘a lot’.”
Jo Minjoon snorted and headed upstairs.
When he reached the fourth-floor lobby, he found Kaya on the sofa closest to the television. More precisely, she was sprawled awkwardly between the armrest and the backrest.
“You’ll turn into a cow lying down like that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s something people say in Korea. If you eat and then lie down, you’ll turn into a cow.”
“Not a pig?”
“Maybe because you won’t digest properly. I don’t know.”
“Hmph. So much for going to university. You didn’t even learn something like that.”
Jo Minjoon smiled faintly and sat down.
Kaya remained lying there and extended one hand towards him. “Give me some. I want to try it.”
“Wait until it starts.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be stingy. There aren’t even ten minutes left.”
Jo Minjoon clicked his tongue but served her a piece of tarte Tatin.
Kaya took a bite and nodded with an expression that suggested it was reasonably good. “It’s fine.”
“Not too sweet?”
“It’s supposed to be sweet. Well, it might be a bit much for you, but customers would probably like it this way.”
At Kaya’s words, Anderson nodded.
“The more stimulating food is, the less healthy it generally becomes. But customers don’t go to restaurants looking for health. If that were what they wanted, they’d go to a hospital instead. Of course, there are places that serve only healthy food… but honestly, they usually don’t sell that well. Health and stimulation aren’t complete opposites, but there’s still a fair distance between them.”
As Anderson finished speaking, footsteps came from the stairs.
The other five contestants entered the lobby carrying puddings, cakes, or breads of their own.
Chloe looked towards the television. “It hasn’t started yet?”
“The preview already aired. It should start after a few adverts.”
“Good. Just in time.” Chloe smiled happily and took her seat.
As everyone began eating the food spread before them, the advertisements ended. The Grand Chef logo filled the screen, and the programme began.
Just as the food truck mission itself had lasted for a week, both last week’s broadcast and this one focused on that mission.
The content was exactly what they remembered.
Honestly, watching what everyone else had been doing was more entertaining than seeing their own scenes.
For example, when the footage showed Jo Minjoon and Peter having a serious conversation, Jo Minjoon himself felt embarrassed, but everyone else watched with great interest.
Joanne looked surprised. “You two talked about things like that? How did I not know? I was right beside you.”
“Because we were talking quietly.”
Still, not every scene was entertaining.
The part where the man had picked a fight with Kaya and ended up arguing with Chloe was unpleasant to watch.
“Stupid bastard. Does he really want to live like that?” Jo Minjoon spoke with open disgust.
It was unusual to hear him curse so openly, but no one pointed it out. They were all thinking the same thing.
The same happened when the troublesome customer from Jo Minjoon’s team appeared on screen.
Kaya spoke cynically. “Pathetic bitch. Look at her eating everything and then asking for a refund. If someone did that where I grew up, she’d disappear one night while walking home.”
“…I don’t think I could survive in your neighbourhood.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” Kaya answered sharply.
Chloe reached over and stroked Kaya’s hair. Since Chloe preferred her usual messy hairstyle, she seemed almost disappointed by how smooth it was today.
Kaya narrowed her eyes like a cat. “Are you going to keep treating me like a kid?”
“But you are younger than me.” Chloe laughed as she answered.
Kaya grumbled something under her breath but did not remove Chloe’s hand.
Watching them was almost like watching a dog and a cat.
Then Rachel Rose appeared on screen.
Martin had made sure not to waste a single scene involving her. Of course he had. She had once been at the very top of the culinary world, a person whose very presence could guarantee ratings.
“Rachel Rose… You really did meet her.” Sasha murmured absent-mindedly.
She had never thought they were lying when they said they had met Rachel, but seeing it on screen made the reality feel different.
It was obvious that Jo Minjoon had become the centre of attention, both from the audience and from professional chefs.
Strangely, no one even felt particularly jealous. His situation was simply too far outside the ordinary. An absolute sense of taste was practically a cheat-like ability. Its existence alone could become a brand, which made it enormously valuable. The others could not help wondering whether that pretty-faced young man fully understood just how valuable it was.
After that, the broadcast proceeded fairly simply. The mission results were announced as usual, followed by the names of those who would take part in the elimination challenge.
Watching Jacob get eliminated again was hardly pleasant, but everyone remained silent.
Any one of them could be next.
Then came the scene where Jo Minjoon’s team ate at Rose Island.
Honestly, at that moment, Jo Minjoon wanted to leave the room. He knew perfectly well what scene was coming.
At first, the camera showed only the luxurious dishes. Then, a few minutes later, it showed Jo Minjoon crying. To viewers, it would probably look like a dramatic moment demonstrating the depth of his extraordinary palate. To Jo Minjoon himself, however, it was simply humiliating.
Fortunately, the others who had been there with him did not tease him. They seemed more interested in the food—
“You’re such a crybaby. Crybaby.” Kaya smiled obnoxiously as she spoke.
Jo Minjoon’s face reddened. “No, that couldn’t be helped. If you ate it too, you’d understand.”
“…Will I ever get the chance? A three-star restaurant.”
“Why wouldn’t you? You will.”
“I hope so.”
“You’re only thinking about eating there? You should become the head chef of a three-star restaurant yourself. Is that too hard?” Anderson answered immediately.
“It is, you crazy bastard.”