The Demonic Beverage
The whole pork belly that had endured a full five hours over the campfire. Even without any smoking chips, the meat had absorbed the wood smoke and turned a deep brown. The fat had rendered out completely, trapping the juices deep inside. Now, how should I eat this to make it go viral as the ultimate way?
Where was this? Deep in the mountains of Gangwon-do, with a meter of snow piled up. Sure, 5G signal was blasting through, and a thirty-minute hike down led to a paved road. But right now, in this moment, we were one with the wild.
And in the wild, you had to eat like it. I plopped the massive hunk of meat onto the cutting board and pulled out a hefty Chinese cleaver.
"Areum? That knife's kinda scary..."
"You don't slice meat like this."
"Then?"
"You hack it apart."
No sooner had the words left my mouth than I raised the cleaver high. Thwack! A dull thud echoed as the meat cleaved cleanly. Slicing? That was for fancy pension trips. Out here, rough and rugged was the virtue.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! My swings were relentless. No bones, but it was so thick it sounded like I was chopping them. Oh, there was some cartilage. No wonder the sound was so meaty.
Ahem. Anyway, in seconds, the 3kg slab was broken down into hefty chunks. Shapes all uneven, but that rawness only whetted the appetite.
"Here, take this."
I fished out some work gloves from my pack and tossed them to Im Nana. She caught them reflexively. Felt familiar somehow. Oh yeah, the first time we met, we'd torn into trout with gloves just like this.
"What's this for...?"
"You know. The best way to eat this is tearing it by hand."
"Ah..."
Im Nana swallowed hard. Civilization's last shred of pride warring with primal instinct. But the battle was short-lived. The savory smoked aroma hit her like a truck.
She slipped on the gloves with trembling hands. Locked and loaded. All that was left was to devour it like warriors.
Fist-sized chunks, heavy in my grip. Warmth seeped through to my fingertips. Drip, drip. Juices fell onto the gloves.
'Yes... this is it.'
I opened wide. Haah!Crunch. Crispy exterior gave way to tender innards. Then... Pop! A juice bomb exploded in my mouth. Smoky essence filled every corner, rich fat coating my tongue. I chewed steadily. The muscle fibers sang with each bite. Five hours of slow roasting had made it melt-in-your-mouth tender.
'...!'
For a split second, my vision flashed. Amid the dark woods, golden light shimmered. And in that glow, a benevolent golden pig statue beckoned me with a smile.
'Come hither... this is paradise itself...'
Cough! Snap out of it! I shook my head fiercely. Almost fell into another hallucination. Dangerous. The depth of flavor nearly sucked my soul in.
I steadied myself and glanced over.
"......"
Im Nana had surrendered completely. Eyes gently closed, she chewed on autopilot. Hands clutching meat, head thrown back to the sky. Like a priest receiving divine revelation—or a lone gourmand savoring bliss.
Moments later, her eyes fluttered open.
'...What’s with that look?'
Her pupils were vacant. No—pure. All worldly woes erased, nothing left but unadulterated joy. Enlightenment achieved.
"The best..."
Short, but definitive. No more words needed.
Now that we'd tasted it, time to go ham. As if on cue, we grabbed chunks in both hands and tore in.
Nom nom. Slurp slurp. Dignity? Feed it to the dogs. Grease on the chin, cheeks bulging—who cared? In this mountain moment, it was just us, the meat, and nothing else.
"Arf! Arf!"
Then, a sharp bark at my feet. Oops. Got too lost in it. Looking down, Maximus stared up with pleading eyes, tail wagging, paws scraping.
'Me too! Gimme meat!'
"Sorry, Maximus... can't do this one."
Smoked meat wasn't good for pups. Too fatty, seasoned besides.
"Here, have this instead."
I pulled his favorite treat from the pack: doggy sausage. Packaging crinkled open, and his eyes rolled back.
"Arf!"
He snatched it and dove into his mini igloo. Weird—he ignored pricey snacks but went nuts for these. Doggy dangajiu inside or something?
"Munch munch... mmm... Areum, got any sauce?"
Of course. Even the tastiest pork belly gets heavy after a while. Needed something to cut the richness.
"Heh, knew it. Prepared for this."
Actually forgot amid the pork bliss. Dug deep into the pack for a small banchan container. Lid off: spicy, nutty aroma exploded.
"What's this?"
"My special stir-fried ssamjang."
Not your average stuff. 2:1 miso-to-gochujang golden ratio, plus oligo sugar, sesame oil, minced garlic, plum syrup, sugar. Dash of cham sauce. Then flash-fried over high heat—Areum's all-purpose magic ssamjang. Frying nukes the sticky funk, unleashing nuttiness and umami.
Dip with meat, mix with rice—perfection.
"Dip away."
Im Nana dunked a chunk and popped it in. She chewed, eyes bulging like a cartoon.
"Whoa! What is this? So good! The greasiness is gone!"
"Right? Total rice thief."
Her mukbang accelerated. Couldn't let her outpace me. Dipped heavy and inhaled.
Stomach filling up, body relaxing, chill creeping in. Sun fully set, temps plummeting. Breath fogged white.
'Time to bring it out...'
Glanced around. Camera on, but no live stream. Audience: just Im Nana and Maximus.
Perfect.
'Seal... broken.'
The thing I'd held back for image reasons, to avoid black history. But tonight? No holding back.
Rummaged the pack, pulled a hefty square bottle. Green glass, stag-head label. [Jägermeister]. Jägermeister. Lit: master hunter or gamekeeper. Herbs, fruits, spices. Distilled liquor infused with medicinals and sugar—a liqueur.
One perk: doesn't freeze even near -20°C. Hence, hunters in cold lands loved it. Nothing more fitting for this wild night.
"Areum, what's that? Booze?"
Im Nana eyed it curiously.
"Yep. Jägermeister."
"Yay-ger... my-ster?"
"On nights this cold, a bit of strong stuff warms you right up. Heard why Russians chug vodka? Eh, half-excuse maybe."
"Survival hack? Sounds badass. How strong?"
"Around 35%."
"35%?!"
She clapped a hand over her mouth. Yup. Sweet taste belies the kick. Famous in cocktails—OJ, cola, energy drinks mix great. But...
Bottle heavy enough without lugging mixers. Straight it was.
"Usually mixed, but tonight? Straight-up manly style."
"Pfft. Yeah! Manly style!"
Pulled two small stainless shot glasses. Poured the thick, dark brown liquid. Herbal sweetness wafted up.
Handed one over. She sniffed cautiously. Sniff sniff. Nose twitching like...
Wait, this looked familiar. Just like Maximus with the sausage?
Eh... calling a person doggish is rude. But for Nana? Maybe okay?
"...Kinda dogg—er, puppylike."
"What?"
Her brow twitched. Oops. Spill.
Too late. Her fist rocketed to my crown. Bonk! Mega-Nana-nut cracked!
Groooan...! Skull pierced?
She snorted and dove back to sniffing.
"Sniff... Smells like herbal meds? Floral too."
"Nngh... Lotsa herbs and spices. Licorice, cinnamon, ginger."
"Ooh? Health juice then?"
"...?"
Health juice? For 35% booze? What logic. But... not wrong? Heard it started as a digestif.
"Kinda. Aids digestion, warms the body."
"Sweet! Health juice!"
She bought it wholesale. I topped my glass. Grabbed a meat chaser, raised it.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!"
Clink. Clear ring of steel on steel.
Tilted back, downed it. Gulp.Whoosh! Fire scorched down my throat. Burning trail faded to sticky sweet, intricate herbs flooding my mouth.
"Kyahaaaa—!"
Exclamation burst out. This was it! Throat-tingling chill clashing with sweetness!
"Ahh... whoa... this is insanely good!"
"Right? Super sweet."
"Yeah! No booze taste at all? Like sweetened herbal tonic!"
Dangerous words. No booze taste? Jägermeister's trap.
Flashback hit. Just turned twenty. Grown-ups with Western liquor looked cool. But pricey. So, convenience store it was. Smirnoff, Bombay, Wild Turkey, Absolut. Jägermeister.
Pooled cash with friends for a bottle. That night? Found sprawled on the street. Sweetness kept flowing, youthful pride bought seconds...
Ahem. Black history buried.
"Nana. Tasty doesn't mean chug. Hits hard."
"Psh, no worries. I can hold my liquor."
"For real. High proof sneaks up."
"Got it, got it. Moderation."
She held out her empty glass halfheartedly.
"One more."
"..."
Worrying. But no grounds to refuse—I wanted more too.
"Stop when we're nicely warm, okay? Promise."
"Yup! Promise!"
Refilled hers, then mine. Gulp.Ahh...! So sweet!