Chapter 92: The Weight of a Restaurant (5)
Chapter 92: The Weight of a Restaurant (5)
“...Why are you looking at me like that?”
At Kaya’s voice, Jo Minjoon slowly came back to his senses. He looked away awkwardly. Why was that? He already knew Kaya was a genius, and he knew how much further she could grow, yet the moment her cooking level rose, a corner of his heart began to ache.
...Was it jealousy?
Even if it was, there was nothing strange about that. He was human too. No matter how close they were, watching her move farther and farther ahead of him could only leave a bitter feeling. To think that, as a grown man, he was jealous of a girl he had once admired.
And the nine-point dish was not a one-off occurrence. Not every dish she made continuously scored nine points, but the number of them gradually increased. Had she crossed some sort of threshold? In Jo Minjoon’s experience, levels did not rise simply because you accumulated experience. Rather, once you possessed sufficient skill, that ability was reflected in your level. Perhaps Kaya had already been standing on the boundary between levels seven and eight, merely waiting for the moment she would finally cross it.
Jo Minjoon stopped thinking about it. He could not put jealousy and agitation into a dish that would be served to customers. His eyes returned to the plates in front of him.
His injury hurt.
-
...Huh?
Suspicion filled Alan’s eyes. The atmosphere among the people in the dining hall had softened slightly. That was not something easily achieved. People who went to restaurants could broadly be divided into two groups: those who simply wanted to enjoy their time there, and those who wanted to evaluate the food.
The ratio varied depending on the restaurant. If it was an established restaurant that had already earned recognition, there would naturally be more of the former. But for a restaurant like On the Lake, which had only just opened, the latter was unavoidable. Even more so when it had been publicly announced that the contestants of Grand Chef, rather than the restaurant’s usual chefs, would be doing the cooking. There would certainly be anticipation, but the greater the anticipation, the greater the doubt.
That attitude was obvious while they ate. Let’s see just how good you are. It showed clearly in the way they held their knives, in the shape of their mouths as they chewed the fish, and in their eyes. If they approached the food with that attitude even before taking a bite, naturally their satisfaction would be lower than usual. Eating something with anticipation was completely different. Even the same dish could be judged very differently depending on the diner’s mindset.
That was why there had initially been no particularly strong reactions from the customers. It was fine. That was about it. But at some point, that atmosphere began to loosen. And there was only one dividing line.
Whether or not they had eaten Kaya and Jo Minjoon’s main course.
It had not been that way from the beginning. The change had only appeared after roughly ten tables had finished their meals. Even so, the aftermath was unmistakable. Smiles became more frequent, laughter could be heard more often, and occasionally, exclamations of surprise rang out.
We already know how the evaluation is going to turn out.
“Hmm. Wouldn’t it be nice if we slowly started eating too?”
Emily, who had been watching the customers’ reactions, swallowed and spoke. Alan gave a bitter laugh. Whenever food was involved, she became remarkably easy to read.
The judges sat down at a table. Emily opened the menu and asked, “Are we all going to order the same thing?”
“Does it matter what we order?”
“It would be better to order several different dishes and share.”
“...I respect your tastes, but I don’t like sharing food with other people. It’s unhygienic, and I can’t concentrate properly on the flavours.”
“You’re so difficult. Joseph, what about you?”
“I’m sorry, but I agree with Alan.”
“Whew. So I’m the only uncultured one here.”
Emily pouted regretfully.
Alan looked at her for a moment, then sighed. “Before I put anything in my mouth, I’ll portion some out for you. I can do that much.”
“Really?”
“I’m not the sort of person who lies about things like this.”
At Alan’s blunt answer, Emily’s face blossomed into a smile.
Alan coughed and turned his head away.
The dishes were quite good. Chloe and Ivanna’s saffron mussel soup and cod mousse were not very different from the versions previously made by the restaurant’s chefs. Of course, since they were following the recipes and cooking exactly as they had been taught, there should not have been much difference, but even being able to reproduce them that faithfully was impressive.
Naturally, the highlight was the main course. Looking at the order and quality of the dishes, Alan placed a piece of fried sea bass into his mouth without hesitation and immediately let out an exclamation. It was one of the most delicious dishes he had eaten throughout Grand Chef, easily among the handful he could count on one hand. It was good enough that he could call it the best thing Kaya had made so far. The depth of flavour, the stimulation, the tenderness, and...
“...This is the best so far.”
For an food critic, it was a surprisingly plain way of describing flavour, but Alan did not bother criticising it. Best. The dish was good enough that a single word conveyed everything. His sea bass, and Emily’s salmon steak...
“The customers can’t help but smile.”
The astonishing part was that they were not producing this level of quality for only one or two dishes. It was not as if they had deliberately made the judges’ plates better. In the first place, there was no way for the contestants to know who had ordered what. If ordinary customers were eating dishes of this quality as well, then unless they had some perversely distorted sense of taste, they could only be satisfied.
Joseph smiled faintly. “At this level, I could even entrust them with the main course section... No, there probably wouldn’t be a problem even if I made them sous-chefs. Haha... To think the contestants would improve this much. I wonder whether we’ll still be satisfied with the contestants in future seasons.”
“We’ll just have to bring in harsher judges.” Alan smirked as he replied.
Eventually, the customers finished their meals. After seeing the final evaluations, Alan nodded as though the result was exactly what he had expected. If the food the judges had eaten was no different from what had been served to the customers, then this outcome was only natural.
Even judging purely by the results, there were almost no complaints directed towards Kaya and Jo Minjoon. Their dishes had flavours that surpassed the originals and received favourable comments while also earning the fewest criticisms. Most of the criticisms they did receive came from the early part of service, before Kaya had fully adjusted.
The judges called all the contestants into the bar-shaped lobby between the kitchen and the dining hall. Most of them looked nervous. Even Kaya, who had displayed such remarkable growth, was no exception. Since she had not tasted the dishes herself, she had no way of knowing that her cooking had improved by another step. She only felt that the dishes had come out better than usual.
“How did today feel?”
No one answered. Joseph slowly looked around at everyone before his gaze settled on Jo Minjoon. More precisely, it settled on his injury. He slowly began to speak.
“Things like this happen in restaurants. Sometimes, even in a situation where you ought to go to hospital, you can’t afford to cry from the pain. There are more cases than you might think where you have to keep working with nothing but gauze wrapped around an injury. Because whether you’re hurt or not, the customers are still waiting in the dining hall. That is what responsibility means.”
Kaya gritted her teeth. Never had the word responsibility struck her as deeply as it did today. Joseph looked at her for a moment, then clapped his hands and brightened the atmosphere.
“It’s about time we announced the results. Naturally, not all of you received good comments. In fact, some of the comments may have been harsher than what your cooking would normally deserve. But that is something you must learn to endure.”
Joseph fell silent, and Alan continued.
“Receiving favourable evaluations in this mission is more difficult than you might think. The customers’ tongues are coated in expectation, wariness, and doubt. Those feelings would have been even stronger because the people cooking for them were not this restaurant’s chefs, but all of you. Nevertheless, there was one team that succeeded in earning favourable reviews despite those circumstances. At the same time, that team will be exempt from the elimination mission. The remaining teams will take part in the elimination mission, and one person from each team will be eliminated.”
Silence settled over the room. Ivanna tightly clasped Chloe’s hands. She could not lose. She did not want to. Her eyes, filled with that desperate wish, remained fixed on Alan’s mouth.
“Kaya, Minjoon. Congratulations.”
But there were no miracles.
-
“It’ll hurt.”
“Ugh...”
The long, thick needle sank mercilessly into his arm. It might have seemed ridiculous for someone who was not even a child to be afraid of a needle, but fear was fear.
The nurse smiled. “Relax. If you tense your muscles that much, it’ll hurt even more.”
“Thank you.” Jo Minjoon replied with an awkward laugh.
While the other four contestants were taking part in the elimination mission, he had been taken around the hospital on the doctor’s orders. Kaya, of course, had gone to watch the elimination mission. Originally, Jo Minjoon should have gone as well... but nobody had objected.
After all, no one had expected him to end up admitted to a hospital room over a burn.
By now...
Jo Minjoon looked at the clock. He did not know what the elimination mission’s theme had been, but by now it should already have ended. He considered messaging Kaya, then decided against it. For some reason, he did not feel comfortable at the moment. Was it because he would have to say goodbye to at least one person? Or, if it was not that...
He had not told his parents about the injury. They would find out eventually when they watched the broadcast, but by then it would already have healed considerably. Then he would be able to reassure them more confidently that there was nothing to worry about.
His head ached. Was it because of the medicine? His eyelids grew heavy, and he slowly closed them.
When he opened them again, something felt strange.
The hospital room lights were off.
Did I doze off?
He felt something strange against his right hand. Slowly blinking, Jo Minjoon turned his head.
He saw hair. Long, curly black hair.
It was Kaya’s.
Her hair looked slightly frizzy, as though charged with static, while she slept beside the bed. Her hand was still clasped around Jo Minjoon’s.
He did not want to wake her. Jo Minjoon briefly rested his hand against Kaya’s hair, then picked up his phone. Several messages were blinking on the screen.
[Chloe: Is your body okay?]
[Chloe: Two people were eliminated. Ivanna and Sasha. It probably doesn’t feel right to explain the mission and how it went right now, does it?]
[Chloe: I wanted to stay beside you, but I’m sorry. I couldn’t even say anything because you were sleeping. They said only one person could stay with you overnight. Even so, you’d rather... have Kaya beside you than me, right?]
There was something uneasy about the message. For Chloe, she sounded unusually dispirited. Still, he thought it might simply be because Ivanna and Sasha had been eliminated. Chloe was the sort of person who would be hurt even by someone else’s elimination.
Jo Minjoon tapped another message.
[Kaya: I’m coming right now.]
“Right. You came.”
Jo Minjoon smirked as he looked down at Kaya. Whatever she was dreaming about, every time she mumbled in her sleep, the words “immigration... immigrate...” slipped from her mouth.
Looking at her like this, her face really is small.
It was not only her face. Her head itself was small. Some online comments had even said, How can she think properly with a head that small? Looking at her now, he could almost understand why people said that.
Originally, hers was a face he should only ever have been able to see through a screen. Originally, he should never have been able to look at her this closely. He should never have known that her body carried the scent of well-ripened fruit, that her hands were rough while her palms were soft, or that beneath all her carefully maintained pride lay nervousness and anxiety.
Originally, he should never have known any of those things.
That alone should have been enough to make him happy. So why could his heart not simply accept it? Why did his gaze keep drifting towards the window that appeared beside Kaya’s face?
No, the window was not the real problem.
Even if he dismissed it and looked away, he was still thinking about her level.
And, at the same time, his own.
Jo Minjoon simply stared at her face. In the darkness, he could barely make out even half of her features, but her nose, lips, and chin were faintly illuminated. Although she was still little more than a reckless girl, before long she would become a woman.
And she would become a chef.
A chef beyond comparison.
Will I be able to reach her?
Jo Minjoon tightened his grip on her hand. Kaya rustled and let out a soft groan. By then, he had already released it.
Jo Minjoon looked out of the window.
The night was deep, but he was no longer sleepy.