Chapter 85: The Pig and the Fire (1)
Chapter 85: The Pig and the Fire (1)
The controversy surrounding Kaya continued to intensify. There was hardly a site even remotely related to Grand Chef that was not discussing her past.
Not many people believed Tess Gilly was suffering from mythomania. She had even uploaded a photograph showing the scar on her chin and claimed that Kaya had caused it. Since she had revealed her own face in the picture, many people found it difficult to believe that she was lying outright.
Netizens split into two camps. Some suspected that Tess Gilly's claims contained lies or exaggerations, while others seized on the facts that had already surfaced and cursed Kaya relentlessly. It was true that the two had attended the same school, and it was also true that their relationship had been bad. More importantly, the scar on Tess Gilly's chin really had been caused by Kaya. A number of anonymous commenters also claimed to have been their schoolmates, but there was no way to verify whether any of them were telling the truth.
Hilary Hahn: There's no need to jump to conclusions. It's true that she left a scar on the girl's face, but I don't think it's right to condemn her without knowing what happened beforehand.
LGE: What could possibly have happened that would make scarring someone's face acceptable? Whatever the circumstances were, I don't think it can be justified.
Erika Vlados: @LGE That's exactly the point. Deciding whether it's justified before knowing what happened is stupid. If Kaya really did something that serious, she would've been sent to juvenile detention. But she wasn't.
That was how the debate continued. There was simply too little information for anyone to be certain. Of course, some people still declared absolute certainty based on what little they knew, but those people usually ended up becoming targets of ridicule and criticism themselves.
“If enough time passes, it'll all settle down.” Martin muttered the words as though reciting a spell.
Robert frowned. “Can't we just reveal the truth? Even if some people still refuse to accept it, if we explain exactly what happened, plenty of others would understand.”
“But if we say nothing, it'll be uncomfortable for a while and then eventually people will forget. Besides, there isn't any solid evidence proving that ‘truth’ other than Kaya's own testimony. If we release a statement without evidence, people will accuse us of manipulating public opinion, and things could get even worse. Trust me. This is the best option for both Kaya and the programme.”
According to what Kaya had told them, the scar on Tess's chin had resulted from an accident involving both of them. The reason only Kaya had been expelled—or rather, pushed into withdrawing from school—was another matter entirely.
Grand Chef had not released any official explanation about the controversy yet. More precisely, they had responded in the most conventional way possible: We are currently investigating the matter. There are several discrepancies between Tess Gilly's claims and the information known to us. They had deliberately avoided discussing the details because they first needed to see how the media reacted.
So far, the result had not been too bad. Episode ten, which featured the dessert mission, had aired the previous day, and that seemed to have pushed the controversy over Kaya's middle-school years slightly into the background. Of course, there were still plenty of people who delighted in digging up other people's mistakes and were practically salivating over the scandal, but at least the situation had not yet become unmanageable.
Martin rubbed the back of his neck. The more he thought about it, the worse his headache became. For now, all they could do was wait. If the controversy lost momentum, that would be the end of it. If it grew larger, they would have to step in and burst the bubble themselves. Either way, this was not the moment to force a conclusion.
“Let's start preparing for the next mission. There weren't many entertaining moments in the dessert mission. We were lucky Minjoon managed to recreate that jelly, but we can't keep relying on Jo Minjoon forever. This time, let's make sure we give the viewers something worth watching.”
“...Ugh. Someone else is going to be eliminated today too. Watching that really hurts.”
Martin smirked. “Worry about yourself. You never know when you'll be the one walking down the road of elimination. Do you think a producer's seat lasts forever?”
“It's all about you again.” Anderson frowned as he closed the browser window on his phone. It was understandable.
After Minjoon had reproduced the recipe for a dish he had tasted only once, viewers had found it difficult to focus on anyone else in that episode.
Minjoon smirked. “Jealous?”
“It's a little different from jealousy. It's normal for your stomach to hurt when you watch someone else doing well.”
“Just hearing you admit something like that so calmly... You're definitely similar to Kaya.”
“...Stop it.” His expression made it clear that he genuinely did not want to hear that comparison.
Minjoon laughed and lifted the skewer in his hand. It was neither dakkochi nor lamb skewers. Prosciutto, tomato, and bread brushed with olive oil had been threaded onto it. It was a simple Italian-style appetiser, but the moment he bit into it, the saltiness of the prosciutto and the aroma of olive oil spread across his tongue, followed by the fragrance of perfectly toasted bread.
(Translator’s Note: Dakkochi —Korean chicken skewers, usually grilled and coated with a sweet, savoury, spicy, or mixed sauce. Dak means “chicken” and kkochi means “skewer”. They became especially familiar as South Korean street food during the country’s modern street-food culture of the late twentieth century.)
He let out an appreciative sound. “I didn't realise the flavour of the bread itself could matter this much.”
“Bread is a staple in European cuisine, just like rice is in your country.”
“In Korea, rather than eating bread like this... how should I put it? We usually think of it more as a snack.”
“I know. You told me that before.”
“...Did I?” Minjoon laughed awkwardly and took another piece.
This one had no toppings at all, only bread and olive oil. What surprised him was that even that tasted good. Then again, even a single drop of sesame oil could transform the flavour of food, so perhaps olive oil worked on a similar principle.
His gaze shifted towards Kaya. She was eating the cheesecake Sasha had made, but she looked exhausted. She had said that she had no appetite and that her stomach hurt. Even though there was plenty of food around, she could not enjoy any of it.
A bitter taste filled Minjoon's mouth. Although Kaya was not showing much outwardly, it was obvious that she was having a difficult time.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could really do for her.
Hugo noticed Minjoon's expression and spoke cautiously. “Do you think Kaya will be all right?”
“There's no way she is. Look at how many hateful comments there are. She's still young. She's only eighteen.”
“...Come to think of it, Kaya's the youngest contestant still here.”
Hugo looked at her again, almost as though seeing her in a new light. She certainly did childish things at times, but perhaps because of her make-up, she did not normally give off the impression of being so young. More than that, she had the skills to back herself up. She was one of the strongest candidates to win. That made it difficult to think of her as an ordinary teenager.
“Who's the oldest among us?”
“Not sure. Isn't it Sasha? I think Sasha's about twenty-eight. Anderson's twenty-two, and you're twenty-one. How old was Chloe again?”
“Twenty-one. I hadn't really noticed before, but all the strongest contestants are pretty young. I remember there were at least one or two people in their thirties at the beginning.”
“That just means we did that well.” Hugo smirked proudly.
At that moment, Robert approached their table. Every contestant's expression stiffened. If the youngest producer had personally come over to find them, there could only be one reason.
Sure enough, Robert said exactly what they expected. “The mission starts in two hours. Get ready.”
He delivered that single sentence and walked away.
Kaya watched his back and frowned. “There goes my appetite.”
“Mine too.” Sasha sighed and rested her chin on her hands.
Chloe rolled her eyes thoughtfully before looking towards Minjoon. “...What do you think today's mission will be? Minjoon, guess. You got it right last time.”
“Who knows? I can't seem to get a feel for it today.”
“You have days when you can sense that sort of thing?”
“Isn't everyone like that?” Minjoon answered with an awkward expression.
Even if events were still following the original course, his memories had already become somewhat hazy. Recently, it also seemed as though the judges had been making the missions more difficult than he remembered. If the contents of the missions themselves changed, then his memories would be useless anyway.
Chloe smiled. “It'd be nice if the theme were Chinese cuisine.”
“...Then everyone except you would be at a disadvantage.”
“You could at least try thinking positively.” Chloe pouted.
Minjoon smirked. If anyone else had said something so self-serving, it might have sounded irritating. But Chloe was the person who usually looked after everyone else more than anyone, so coming from her, it was hard to find the comment unpleasant.
Whether it was irritating or not, however, Chloe's wish did not come true.
That afternoon, the theme announced by the judges had nothing to do with any particular country.
“There will be two themes in this mission. The first is fire.” Emily lowered her voice as though trying to create a heavy atmosphere. Because she was obviously forcing it, the effect should have been ridiculous, yet perhaps simply because she was standing there as a judge, the contestants still became tense. Even the sound of her breathing seemed enough to make the hairs on their arms rise.
Everyone stared at her.
Enjoying their attention, Emily continued slowly. “They say fire gave humanity civilisation. It taught people how to cook, and with it came countless cooking methods: roasting, poaching, simmering, sautéing, steaming, broiling, grilling... There are too many to count. Your task is to cook a single ingredient using three different methods. And that ingredient is...”
Emily stopped.
No, it was not really a dramatic pause.
Gulp.
She swallowed, then laughed awkwardly.
“Just talking about it is making my mouth water. The ingredient is pork. You can roast the outside until it's beautifully golden, coat it in flour and fry it, or put it into a stew and draw out its flavour. Whatever you choose, I hope you cook it to the best of your ability.”
Alan continued in a calm voice. “You will have exactly two hours to cook. Starting now, we'll give you thirty minutes to plan your recipes, so use that time carefully.”
Thirty minutes.
The contestants had just begun thinking that thirty minutes was not much time to devise three separate dishes when Joseph spoke.
“If the three dishes you present work together harmoniously, we may award additional points. However, the most important thing remains the quality of the food on the plate. I hope you produce your very best cooking. You have exactly thirty minutes from now to decide on your recipes.”
Minjoon's thoughts began racing.
Two hours. Three dishes. They had access to every cut of the pig, though the cuts followed American rather than Korean butchering standards. Even taking that into account, there were still countless possibilities. There were so many options that he almost did not know where to begin.
But having a wider range of ingredients also meant having a wider range of recipes available to him. Since joining the competition, Minjoon had learned numerous cooking techniques and recipes from the other contestants. If he combined all of that knowledge properly, he felt certain he could produce a good result.
Minjoon closed his eyes. Recipe windows appeared and disappeared one after another inside his vision. He himself did not notice it, but the process was extraordinarily fast. Two recipes flashed through his mind every second. Compared with an ordinary person, his ability to conceptualise dishes was perhaps ten times faster.
Of course, many of those recipes were things he had learned or copied from the others.
When he opened his eyes again, only five minutes had passed.
Minjoon slowly organised the recipes in his head. The first would be Hong Kong-style Dongpo pork. There was more than one way to approach it: he could boil the pork, fry it, slice it, then simmer it down in sauce. The second dish would be fried meatballs served with smoked paprika and balsamic sauce. The last would be barbecued pork ribs.
The composition score was six.
Minjoon smiled.
At least when it came to composing recipes, there was a clear difference between who he had been when he first entered the competition and who he was now.
The estimated cooking scores for all three dishes were the same.
Eight points.