Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Reinforced Radish Medicinal Cuisine
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This wasn't the medieval Central Plains, after all.
It was a reaction I'd half-expected.
The people of this land prized light, chewy textures over rich, oily flavors.
As a result, commoners mainly ate cheap fatback meat, while the wealthy favored lean cuts.
Pork belly was the flat cut running from the ribs down to the abdomen.
This held true in both my past life and this one.
But here, they had a particular fondness for lean meat.
Because of that, the pork belly the poor mother and daughter could afford was the fatty scraps left after the rich had stripped away all the lean portions.
In other words, pork belly in this land was something close to "no-meat pork belly," consisting of 99% white fat and skin with barely a trace of meat.
'They've never tasted proper pork belly, so it's no wonder they reacted that way.'
In my past life in Korea, people had long recognized the true value of pork belly and hailed it as the "prime cut."
It was so beloved that it always topped the list of Koreans' preferred dining-out options.
Even in that distant future life of mine, some countries had failed to appreciate pork belly for ages.
Hell, there were even places that treated it as discard.
But once Korean dramas and movies spread the word, it finally got the recognition it deserved.
Fortunate for me, at least.
Thanks to pork belly being undervalued, I could snag today's cooking meat on the cheap.
Of course, to get real pork belly with a good mix of lean and fat, I'd had to haggle fiercely with the butcher.
'Time to show them the true flavor of pork belly.'
I looked at the indifferent mother and daughter, curling the corner of my mouth ever so slightly.
This was before opening shop.
I'd whipped up the new dishes and set them on the table.
"Hye-yoon, give it a try. You too, Somi."
I figured staff should know the taste of what they were selling first.
These were tasters just for Hye-yoon and Somi, after all.
The mother and daughter bowed slightly in thanks, then lifted their chopsticks with eyes full of no expectations.
"...!"
Hye-yoon was the first to bring the radish pork stir-fry to her mouth, while Somi bit into the radish-filled flatbread first.
The two looked at each other at the same moment.
And...
The more they chewed, the slower their eyelids lifted from their eyes like blinds being pulled up by a string.
Once their eyelids had nowhere left to rise, their mouths finally gaped wide.
The heat and flavors filling their mouths burst like fireworks.
Hye-yoon covered her mouth with her sleeve and said,
"My goodness, benefactor. This is the first radish pork stir-fry like this I've ever had. The crisp, crunchy radish mixed with pork belly... it's like expensive silk melting in my mouth."
"I see. Hye-yoon."
"Now I understand why you chose the pork belly cut, benefactor. I can't even lift my head in shame at my own ignorance."
Hye-yoon bowed her head bashfully.
But her right hand, clutching the chopsticks, crept toward the radish pork stir-fry like it had eyes of its own.
Regular radish pork stir-fry used minced lean pork.
But I'd chosen bite-sized pork belly chunks.
The result? The fat from the crisped pork belly seeped into the vegetables and sauce, enveloping the whole dish in the tender aroma unique to pork lard.
The seasonal radish, fried in salty soy sauce and oil, was crisp outside and meltingly soft inside.
One bite released a subtle sweetness that pleasantly coated the mouth.
Somi said, her voice choked with emotion,
"Great hero... this taste defies reason. Inside the chewy, crisp pastry, the radish and pork belly... it's like a sword dance..."
"Somi, are you crying? It's not that good."
"Every time my molars grind into the neatly sliced radish and pork belly... tears well up with the saliva."
"You're not a cat or anything... no need to cry."
For the record, cats salivate profusely when eating something delicious, stimulating the parasympathetic nervous system.
This can trigger the tear glands, causing them to shed tears.
It's not emotion—just a physiological response.
Come to think of it, Maban the raccoon dog wasn't exempt either.
But Somi was human. I felt a moment of bewilderment.
'Oh, right...'
A video from my past life came to mind: a Japanese person bawling their eyes out after tasting pork belly for the first time.
'Yeah... I get it now.'
I smiled warmly, glancing back and forth between Hye-yoon, who looked like she'd summoned a seal in delight, and Somi, possessed by a cat.
Winning them over with taste first—before even considering the medicinal aspects—put my mind at ease.
* * *
Ten days passed.
The menu hadn't changed in that time.
Radish pork stir-fry and radish-filled flatbread using fortified radish. Excellent medicinal cuisine for wind-cold.
And the response was...
"Benefactor, nine orders of radish pork stir-fry and eighteen radish-filled flatbreads. They want the flatbreads packed to go for their journey."
"Nine radish pork stir-fries, eighteen flatbread packs."
"Benefactor, five radish pork stir-fries and twenty flatbreads—"
It was hotter than hot—practically melting away.
Lines stretched in front of Waiting People's Restaurant from early dawn, snaking past the market entrance and into the alleys.
The waiting crowd all raised their voices, passionately sharing their miraculous experiences and body transformations.
"This radish dish isn't mere food. It's akin to a famed medicine. I'd suffered severe wind-cold for nearly a fortnight, chatting with grim reapers every time I lay down. But after eating here, the reaper bowed deeply before me and left without regret."
"Ha ha, my case was worse. I downed ten bowls of Wind-Cold Decoction from Benevolent Heart Hall to no avail—my family had the coffin ready and the rites scheduled. Yet after one radish pork stir-fry, the wind-cold vanished, heat surged through my body... and at my age of staff-home (fifty), I fathered a youngest child. Thinking back, it might've been from eating it with my wife."
One-timers always returned. Two-timers couldn't wait for three.
A gale of word-of-mouth fiercer than any wind-cold swept through.
Thanks to it, I'd shaken the iron wok so much over those ten days that even in sleep, my hand twitched like it had a mind of its own.
Each time, sleeping Maban nearby would punch at it—leaving me no choice but to improvise self-handcuffs.
As orders came in, I tossed chunks cut from the pork belly into the wok.
It was pork belly, layered with skin fat, lean meat, and membrane.
Sizzle—
The moment it hit the hot iron, the fat melted with a sound slicing through the air.
The once-white fat turned yellow and translucent under the heat.
Then came the pops: plip, plip-plip-plop, like monsoon rain drumming on a roof.
The pork belly began to take on a golden-brown hue.
Its surface gleamed glossy, like a man's hair slicked with pomade.
Hye-yoon and Somi stared, entranced, murmuring,
"Somi, today's pork belly has such distinct marbling. Just looking at it makes my heart race."
"And that's not all, Mother. Today's is perfectly mixed fat and lean—one bite and it'll cloud the mind for sure."
"Yes, you're right. This isn't just meat. It's like an oriental painting capturing Peach Blossom Paradise."
In just days, the mother and daughter's reactions had flipped like a pancake.
For some reason, the corner of my mouth kept twitching upward.
Gazing at the sizzling pork belly, I thought to myself,
'Too bad there's no aged kimchi. Or well-fermented green onion kimchi... no, pickled radish might be better. Wait, mustard leaf kimchi...'
All sorts of kimchis I'd never taste again swirled in my head.
This was mid-Ming Dynasty—no chilies yet.
'Chili, chili, I need chili.'
The urge welled up to cross oceans to the distant West if needed, just to get my hands on some.
"...!"
Lost in thought—
Suddenly, every hair on my body stood on end.
A chill like ice raced down my spine from nape to tailbone.
Soon my whole body trembled like an aspen leaf.
Someone bearing an extraordinary aura had just stepped into Waiting People's Restaurant.
In the old days, I might've missed it. But my post-awakening bonus senses were blaring warnings now.
'Wh-who...?'
Instinctively, I whipped my head toward the source of that potent presence.
There stood an old man.
He wore a black robe, his long white beard cascading to his chest—not middle-aged, but a true elder.
Age meant nothing, though.
His aura was overwhelming enough to stop breath a thousand li away.
Sensing my gaze, the elder slowly raised his head.
Like a beast in the woods, he arched one eyebrow at me.
He wasn't far or near—just one of the long line of customers at Waiting People's Restaurant.
'Just... another customer here for the food.'
For an instant, the bustling market felt frozen.
As if ink washed over everyone else, leaving only the elder and me beneath bright red lanterns.
I swallowed dryly and stole a glance. I couldn't meet his eyes fully.
His presence felt ready to devour me whole.
Yet it wasn't killing intent.
This elder with a beastly aura.
At a glance, he seemed an ordinary old man who'd never learned martial arts.
His time-worn black cotton robe had frayed threads everywhere, fluff fluttering like willow leaves in the breeze.
Along with his chest-length white beard.
But the wrinkle-free drape of his clothes was modest yet neat.
Anyone would call him a quiet elder.
True to that, the customers around him were utterly off-guard.
Faces lit with appetite, they chatted freely—sometimes even shoving him carelessly in the press of the line.
Like a burger squished in delivery.
He blended perfectly as one of the crowd.
From what I could tell, this elder was deliberately concealing his presence for some reason.
Thanks to awakening as a hunter, perhaps.
Only I could detect the mountain-beast aura hidden at a transcendent realm.
With a meaningful look, he slyly curled one corner of his mouth.