That Night When Stars Poured Down
The lantern light softly illuminated the table on that night when stars poured down like rain. A perfectly prepared feast. The smoky aroma of charcoal mingled with the sweet-salty scent of teriyaki sauce, tickling my nose. The nutty fragrance of butter-grilled snow mushrooms followed close behind.
Im Nana lost her words for a moment, just admiring the food in front of her.
"Whoa... Areum. This is a masterpiece."
"No need to flatter me. Time to dig in."
I picked up my chopsticks and placed a piece of perfectly grilled rockfish on her side plate. She'd never tried rockfish before, so she should go first.
"Here, try it first. It's nothing like any fish you've had before."
Nana stared at the grilled rockfish with eyes full of anticipation. She handled her chopsticks as delicately as if it were treasure. Then, slowly, it entered her mouth. She took a bite—and froze.
"......"
Her eyes went wide, her expression locked in place. Her body didn't so much as twitch, like time itself had stopped.
...Here it comes. The universe of flavor has opened again.
Ignoring her, I grabbed a piece for my own plate.
"...Gasp."
With a short breath, Nana's body began to tremble. It was like her whole being was expressing the flavor symphony unfolding in her mouth. Drip-drip—
...Huh?
"Areum."
"...Yeah?"
"Thank you. For letting me eat something like this."
This girl's gonna make my head spin. She was seriously crying.
Was this the final evolution of Im Nana's ever-growing food reactions? It was like something out of a comic or novel—crying from over delicious food. A first for me.
"Don't overdo it. Eat before it gets cold. If you're like this over the grilled version, you'll pass out over the braised one next time."
"Eek! It's just that good! Let's eat quick!"
Nana wiped the tears from her eyes and spoke. No matter how I looked at her, she was born for sports or mukbang YouTube... How did she end up as a beauty vlogger?
She demolished the rockfish on her side plate in seconds and turned to the braised dish. She plucked off a bit of cheek meat from the head and popped it in her mouth.
Her body froze again.
"......"
...She could do that twice in one day?
This time, though, she immediately started gushing exclamations and describing the taste.
"...Mmm! Insane! This isn't fish!"
"It is fish, though?"
"The first chew melts like pudding, but keep going and you get this perfect texture...! It pairs perfectly with teriyaki sauce!"
"Right? Rockfish never lets you down."
"Never lets you down? At this level, I'd pledge eternal loyalty even to a traitor! For this taste, I'd serve forever!"
Suddenly, Nana was the loyal vassal of a rebel lord. Seeing reactions like that made me want to keep cooking for her. You don't get that level of response just anywhere.
"Areum! You're a cooking genius! How do you make it taste like this? It's cheating!"
"Pfft, Nana, your flavor descriptions are getting pro. You could start a real mukbang channel now."
"No, seriously, it's that good! You eat some too, Areum!"
Nana sat back down and urged me on. It did turn out pretty damn good. The braised rockfish, dyed brown and wafting sweet-salty notes. I picked up a piece of grilled rockfish from the copot and slipped it into my mouth.
Kugh... Rockfish lives up to the hype. That oily richness is killer. And the sauce soaked in perfectly.
The oiliness filled my mouth, but the teriyaki's sweetness tamed it—no cloying aftertaste, just pure craving for more.
"Man, it'd be perfect with a shot of soju..."
"Gasp. Didn't we forget the booze?"
"Yeah. I meant to, but spaced."
"Aww... Should've grabbed beer at least..."
Yeah, booze sounded good right about now... But what could we do? No booze, no making it appear. The site's midway up the mountain—too late to drive down.
Fine, spicy pasta it is...
...Wait. Where's my pasta? I set aside a portion for myself, right?
Slurp—
"Nana, uh, where's my pasta...?"
Slurrrp—
Hey, you. Why are you sweating buckets eating pasta like that? Didn't I plate yours separately? Why are you eating straight from the pan?
Blind to my stare, Nana had her face buried in the aglio e olio on the plate, inhaling it.
"...Nana?"
Slurp—. "Hm?"
"Where's mine?"
She finally looked up slowly. Olive oil smeared her lips, eyes wide. Then she glanced at the plate and freaked.
"Gasp."
"...Care to explain?"
"A-Areum... I-It was..."
Head bowed, stammering—it was hard to believe this was the same pro who did my makeup so confidently. Her serious work face had been pretty cool.
"So? The pasta?"
"I-I thought, with all that peperoncino, is it really that good? Just one bite... and..."
"And?"
"It was so good I lost my mind... I'm really sorry!"
Nana shot up and bowed 90 degrees.
"Seriously, forgive me! I must've gone crazy! I love food, but I've never lost control like this..."
"Pfft..."
I could only chuckle. Couldn't get mad over food, and honestly, her scarfing it down face-down was hilarious. Sometimes she seemed so pure, mature, idiotic—all in one person. A first for me.
"No need to grovel. Noodles are left, doesn't take long. I'll remake it."
"No! I'll do it! Extra garlic, your style!"
"Hahaha! That good, huh?"
"...Yeah! Garlic was god-tier! That punch cuts the oiliness perfectly. Mine was a bit greasy... but with the spice, I blacked out..."
Makes sense—plain oil pasta without heat is meh. In Korea, it needs to be alio alio alio peperoncino olgio to count. And with all that peperoncino, it must've been spicy—yet she finished it?
"Wasn't it spicy?"
"Super spicy! My lips are swollen..."
"...Don't most people tap out at that heat?"
"It was that good—it overpowered the spice!"
Hmm, I think differently. She probably inhaled it too fast to taste the heat. While I looked away...
Better keep that thought to myself. No need to hurt her feelings.
There was a bit of commotion, but dinner wrapped up soon enough. The remake pasta was tasty, and the snow mushrooms we saved for last had a deep umami that put pine mushrooms to shame.
Come to think of it, Nana snaps photos every time she sees food or scenery. I thought I took plenty as a camper, but compared to her? Amateur hour.
Does she upload them all to SNS?
"Nana, you take tons of pics. All for SNS?"
"Huh? Nah, not all. Good ones go up, others I keep... for collection? On sleepless nights or tea time, flipping through gives a different vibe."
"Hmm. Is SNS fun, though? I have no clue."
"Gasp. No SNS? Rarer than people who do these days."
Is it that big? Messenger has some SNS features... thought that was enough.
"Don't know how... too lazy. Complicated to start?"
SNS... friends do it, but no need to track acquaintances.
...Wait. This body's 21. A girl. A beauty. Weird if I don't have it?
"Huh...? Start?"
"Never made one..."
"Wait. Not just lazy maintenance—you've never even made an account? No ID?"
"Yeah. Never felt the need."
"Whaaat."
That shocking? Or is it? I recall... when making friends now, "Insta ID?" and "I don't do Insta" means rejection...
Yeah, kinda serious.
"Areum, sometimes you're such an old man. How no SNS?!"
Gah. "Old man" stings. True, but ouch. Guilty twinge...
"Strike while the iron's hot! Look..."
Nana grabbed her smartphone and launched into tutorial mode. Perfect timing—let's do this.
"ID like your name or YouTube channel. Profile pic... wow, you love landscapes. Barely any selfies..."
"Yeah? No need for self-shots."
"This one's perfect! Our Gangneung shot!"
"The viewpoint date?"
"Uh, y-yeah... date..."
She set the ski jump viewpoint V-sign pic as profile. Bio: "Running Camping is Hangeol YouTube."
"And most important: hashtags! Like search keywords. Helps people find you."
...I know that much. Not a caveman.
"Like for this pic: #camping #car camping #travelgram #Gangneung #ImNana #HanAreum. Splits exposure."
"Hmm... easier than I thought."
"Duh! If it was hard, no one'd use it."
True. Billions use it—can't be rocket science.
A few taps, and my first SNS account was born. But now... what to post?
"...So, what do you post on SNS?"
"Just daily life. Nothing fancy."
"Maximus pics okay?"
"Totally! Dogs are universal~!"
Oh yeah, Grandpa's house—him hugging Maximus...
Found it.
"This one?"
"What pic?"
"Me and Maximus..."
"Whaaa!!! That's Maximus? Adorable! Use it—people'll love it!"
Right? First sight, I thought plushie not pup.
"Now caption it. Like post text."
"'Hi' too boring?"
"Eh, works, but bland. 'First post! One shot with Maximus at Grandpa's!' Better?"
"Too cringy?"
"Nah! Insta-vibe. Hashtags like I said: #FirstPost #Travelgram #Countryside #Grandpa #CampingIsHangeol. Traffic incoming! Upload!"
Gulp.
My first SNS post went live. Uploading to the net's always tense...
Handed phone back—ding, notification.
"First like's mine~!"
"Pfft... Thanks. Honored."
"Yup! Mutual follow—I already did~"
Not bad. New channel beyond YouTube. Fresh.
"Post consistently now! Fans'll love it."
"Sure. I'll try."
One a day. Easy.
"You might get hooked? Comments feel great."
"Hope no trolls..."
"Block and ignore 'em."
She struggled with fame. Tough. I'll ask for tips later.
Time flew—past 9 PM. Camping nights end early. Lanterns off by 8, rustles at dawn.
"Yawwwn... Sleepy..."
"Up before sunrise, touring—bedtime."
"Yeah... Pack up and crash?"
"Yep. Early start tomorrow."
Dishes and gear that take forever solo? Duo-done quick. Clinks faded; we stood at our tents.
"Today was blast, Areum! Excited for Grandpa's tomorrow!"
"Me too... Sleep well. Burst 10 hot packs."
"Pfft, got it. See ya tomorrow!"
Nana waved goodnight and zipped in. Habit before bed: skyward glance. Stars blazed like they'd pour down. Felt photo-worthy.
Click.
"This okay to post...?"
My SNS—who cares? ...Shouldn't have. Forgot: net has no-post moments. Dead-of-night quietest, then... sentimental travel/camping posts.
The sky felt so close. Just reach out, grab a handful of stars. No lights in these mountains—world asleep, me awake. Even breaths turn cautious.