Artisan's Recipe
“Puha! Cough, cough!”
The moment I poked my head above the water, I spat out ragged breaths. Water deep in my lungs surged back up my windpipe. My nose burned, and the world spun before my eyes.
...I thought I was a goner.
Thank goodness I'd clung to the railing with sheer willpower just before drowning. Standing up, the water barely reached my calves. I'd fallen into this? Shame hit me so hard I wanted to die right there. My belly was bloated from all the pool water I'd swallowed—no lunch needed today, that was for sure.
“Ptoo! Ptoo!”
Something gritty scratched inside my mouth. I stuck in a finger and fished it out: a clump of thin, white fur. Maximus's, of course. Must've gone down when he was thrashing around in the water.
“Haa... what a day.”
Pool water for a full meal, dog fur as dessert. Talk about luxury.
I staggered out of the pool like a drowned rat. Little Areum was still splashing happily, beaming away.
“Unnie! Why're you getting out already? Let's play more!”
“Uh... unnie's tummy hurts a bit... I'll go wash up and prep lunch.”
Couldn't shatter her innocence, so I mumbled an excuse and fled to the bathroom.
Warm water hit my skin, and only then did the tension ease. After showering, I glanced in the mirror: a soaked mouse stared back. Blue lips, hollow eyes... Anyone would think I'd survived a shipwreck rescue drill, not pool playtime.
Changed clothes and headed to the kitchen. Stomach still sloshy, but I couldn't let Little Areum and her family go hungry.
Lunch was simple pasta. Alone, I'd have whipped up spicy oil pasta loaded with peperoncino, but with the kid here... too spicy. So, the menu I'd been eyeing: from a YouTube video of an old white-haired grandpa in some Italian village, crafting authentic carbonara with rough hands. No cream, no milk—just egg yolks, cheese, and bacon fat for flavor. Real deal.
Pulled out the prepped ingredients: pasta noodles, eggs, bacon, parmesan cheese powder.
Easy recipe. Pot on with water and plenty of salt. While waiting to boil, make the sauce.
Crack eggs, carefully scoop out just the yolks, alternating sides. Any white means runny sauce and fishy smell—gotta be precise. Three golden yolks nestled pretty in the bowl. Heap in parmesan powder, grind in generous black pepper.
Whisk, whisk. Whisk... s... tough.
Cheese made it thick; yolks didn't help. Way stickier than expected—whisking felt like arm day. Finally, a thick, yellow custard sauce.
Next, bacon. Sliced thin on the board. Heat pan, toss 'em in. Sizzle! Nutty aroma filled the kitchen.
Low heat, slow fry till oil renders and crisp. That's when it mingles with the sauce for flavor explosion.
“Yummy smell!”
Little Areum, freshly washed, dashed in. Miyeon followed, eyes curious.
“Whoa! Unnie, whatcha making?”
“Carbonara pasta. Gonna be super tasty, I bet.”
“Amazing...” Miyeon marveled beside me. “I've only done store-bought sauce or takeout pasta... never seen it made from scratch. Looks hard, but you're knocking it out easy.”
“Nah, super simple. Like boiling ramen.”
“Ra... ramen...”
“Especially oil pasta or carbonara—lets ingredients shine. Try it sometime, Miyeon. Kid'll love it.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Really? Maybe I'll give it a shot at home.”
Then—Little Areum's face froze. She clutched my hem, whispering shakily.
“...Gasp.”
“Huh? Areumie, what's up?”
She glanced at her mom, urgent. “Mommy... cook just a little bit...”
“......”
Silence blanketed the kitchen. Miyeon's cheeks flushed crimson.
“A-Areumie? You said Mommy's fried rice was yummy...”
“That was 'cause Daddy added ketchup...”
Miyeon wilted under the kid's brutal honesty. “Sniff... okay...”
Her shoulders slumped. I bit my thigh to stifle laughter.
Kkh... Kids don't lie, huh.
Quick pivot to save the mood. “A-alright! Noodles done! Just mix now!”
Turned off the bacon pan—too hot, and eggs scramble. Let it cool a tad, dump in drained noodles. Added pasta water, Korean-style. Stir to coat evenly in bacon fat. Glossy strands gleamed.
Highlight time. Pour in egg-cheese sauce. Whisk-whisk. Residual heat cooks the eggs, emulsifies into creamy bliss. Thick sauce clung to every noodle. Golden glow, perfect texture. Fresh pepper grind, sprinkle remaining cheese.
“Ta-da, done.”
Plated up; nutty, salty aroma wafted.
“Whoa! Looks so good!” Little Areum clapped.
We gathered at the living room table. Seontae wandered in, sniffing.
“Whoa, that's carbonara? Killer presentation.”
“Eat before it cools. Cheese hardens, ruins it.”
Forks up. Little Areum twirled first, shoved in.
“Mmm~!”
Eyes wide, sauce on lips—total hamster vibe.
“Unnie! So good! Nutty and salty!”
“Phew, glad it hits.”
Miyeon tried a bite, eyes popping. “No salt? But perfectly seasoned... bacon and cheese alone?”
“Yup. Ingredients carry it.”
Seontae nodded silently, inhaling like a storm. “Learned a ton. Gotta try on next camp. Perfect beer snack.”
My portion: yolk richness flooded my mouth, bacon fat depth, cheese salt—perfect harmony. Heavy yet clean, no cloying cream.
Artisan's recipe never fails.
I slurped, mesmerized. Under the table, Maximus chomped happily—premium canned meat for pups, nose-deep.
Blissful lunch.
Bellies full, we headed to the yard to walk it off. Chilly but sunny—perfect play weather.
“Maximus! Let's go!”
Little Areum bolted ahead. Maximus, hyped, tailed with wagging tail.
“Woof! Woof!”
Pink-padded fluffball and white pom-pom dashed across grass. Healing just watching.
One corner: dog playground. Hurdles, tunnels, teeter-totters—cute setup.
“Ooh? Try that?”
Little Areum lured Maximus to low hurdle.
“Maximus! Here! Jump!”
She demonstrated. He paused, then ran-up and leaped.
Hop. Clean clear, perfect landing.
“Oh...”
Gasp escaped me. Not just a hop—front legs tucked, powerful hind push. Pro form.
“Wow! Good boy!”
She clapped. Pumped Maximus hit tunnel next. Dove in dark, popped out opposite. Hurdle again, ramp up-down. Fluid as water.
Seontae gawked. “Whoa... Maximus has insane athleticism.”
“Really? Puppies are hyper, overflowing energy.”
Played it cool, but my lips twitched ear-to-ear.
Maximus is a genius, confirmed.
Seontae shook head seriously. “Nah. Saw a dog agility comp once. He's pro-level. Form's spot-on.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. Train him, enter contests.”
Swims great, runs, jumps killer. Dog world's Im Nana? Born athlete?
“Maximus! C'mere!”
Hyped, I jumped up. Gotta join.
“Race your noona?”
Dashed at him. “Woof!” He barked, fled.
Tag across grass. Little Areum: “Me too! Me too!”
Haha hoho, bounding joy. Wind whoosh, pure fun.
But.
Fun capped at three minutes.
“Huff... huff...”
Breath to bursting. Legs leaden. Heart pounding.
No... not now...
Foot tangled. Stumbled to bench.
Maximus circled endlessly, urging more. Little Areum fresh as ever.
Me alone. Dying.
Collapsed on bench. Nearly.
“Ugh... wrecked...”
Sky yellow-tinged. Gym grind wasted—stamina stuck.
Seontae approached, worried. “Areum, you okay? Face pale...”
“Haha... yeah... just outta shape...”
Smiled, but inside: bloody tears. Where'd my two months go? Three gym days weekly, puking exhaustion. Unfair.