Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Gamjatang (2)
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I had gathered all the ingredients for gamjatang. By the time early evening rolled around, we finally headed to Master's residence.
"Brother Woonsik, why are you so late?"
As I opened the front gate and stepped inside, Jang Ryeongwol greeted us with her cheeks puffed out, her skin glowing in the sunset behind her.
"I had to go around to a few places."
I pointed to the cart behind me.
"You've arrived, my disciple."
"Yes, Master. I'm sorry for being late."
Master and Ryeongwol approached the cart. They stared blankly at the pork neck bones I'd bought and the perilla leaves, radish greens, and dried radish leaves I'd obtained.
"...Disciple, what are these?"
"Eek, what is that, Brother? You said you'd make something delicious. Where did you pick up this stuff?"
"Now, now, Ryeongwol. He must have his reasons for picking... er, buying them."
As expected, Ryeongwol reacted just like Hui. Her eyebrows drooped in disappointment.
Master seemed to take my side verbally, but he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to believe in me.
'Seeing everyone react like this only fuels my fighting spirit even more.'
I wasn't disappointed. If anything, this situation spurred me on.
"Then I'll make the gamjatang right away. May I use the kitchen, Master?"
"The kitchen is beyond that wall over there. Use it as you please."
"Yes."
Rather than words, I wanted to satisfy them with the result: the cooking itself. I headed straight to the kitchen.
'They've put some real care into this place.'
Master's kitchen was surprisingly clean and well-organized for a household with two men and a young girl.
There were two braziers against the wall, each with an iron cauldron on top.
The shelf beside them held simple ceramic bowls and cooking utensils.
The furnishings showed the patina of age.
I rolled up my sleeves first and washed my hands using water from the jar.
"...Hero Hui, don't just stand there peeking. Come in. Ryeongwol, you too."
Hui and Ryeongwol were curious about the cooking process—or at least one of them was—and poked their heads around the kitchen door.
Of course, their purposes differed. One was surveillance, the other curiosity.
"......"
"Hehe, then I'll come in, Brother."
I ignored them and focused on the cooking.
Today's dish was gamjatang.
There probably aren't many modern men who dislike gamjatang.
Why? Because it's not only a fantastic meal on its own but also perfect as a hangover cure or drinking snack.
In my previous life, after closing up at the restaurant, I'd often stop by a 24-hour gamjatang joint.
Sipping soju while slurping the spicy broth and sucking the tender meat from between the bones—it was how I unwound from the fatigue.
'Ah, my mouth is watering already.'
Gamjatang was one of the ultimate comfort foods for men everywhere.
"Alright, let's get started."
I lit the brazier. Filled the cauldron with water and waited for it to boil furiously.
Soon, white steam rose from the cauldron as bubbles danced and popped.
'Time's short, so I'll have to parboil the neck bones.'
Ideally, pork backbone or neck bones for gamjatang should soak in water to draw out the blood for a cleaner taste without any off-flavors.
But when pressed for time, a quick blanch in boiling water does the trick.
Whoosh—
I dumped in the neck bones, generously fleshed out as they were. Stirred them thoroughly with a ladle to parboil evenly, then fished them out right away.
'Where's the kitchen shears I brought...'
I rummaged through the bundle I'd packed for the trip here.
I pulled out the cooking shears. I'd brought them just in case I needed to cook here.
'I can feel the stares.'
I didn't have eyes in the back of my head, but I could sense Hui glaring.
In my previous life, foreign tourists at Korean restaurants would look utterly baffled seeing meat or noodles cut with scissors.
Who could blame them? South Korea might be the only country that uses kitchen shears as a standard tool.
From modern times to now, I've always relied on cooking shears. Sometimes they're even more useful than a knife for cutting ingredients.
That's why I'd paid extra at a smithy here in the Central Plains to have custom kitchen shears made.
"These are iron shears for cooking only."
No one had asked, but my back itched, so I explained anyway.
"Ah, I see."
"Tch, got it."
My hunch was right. The two finally dropped their suspicions.
I used the shears to trim the fat and scraps from the parboiled neck bones. For a clean, mild broth.
I pulled out the radish greens simmering in the other cauldron, rinsed them in cold water, and cut them into bite-sized lengths.
I put the prepared radish greens in a bowl, mixing in minced garlic, honey, soy sauce, sesame oil, and sansho pepper powder.
'Normally it'd be gochugaru, but sansho powder will have to provide the spice for now.'
That's right.
Chili powder—the key to gamjatang's spicy broth—wasn't available in the Central Plains yet. But that wouldn't be an issue for long.
Not with the 'chili seeds' Ryeongwol had given me tucked in my bosom.
'Once February rolls around planting season, I'll grow them carefully, harvest, and make proper gochugaru.'
I added the trimmed neck bones, seasoned radish greens, onions, and green onions to the pot, poured in enough water to cover them, and brought it to a boil.
'Potatoes haven't spread to the Central Plains yet either, so sadly, no potatoes.'
Some might rage, 'Gamjatang without potatoes?!'
But the 'gamja' in gamjatang doesn't mean potato crop—it's the pig backbone marrow, the spine itself.
Bubble bubble. Soon, the enticing aroma hit.
'Time to enhance the perilla seeds.'
I put some of the perilla seeds I'd picked from the field into a bowl. With eyes on me, I commanded my status window mentally.
'Use all my Food Virtue Points to enhance these perilla seeds.'
A red energy surged from my fingertips toward the perilla seeds.
The clustered seeds trembled faintly. Then, like popcorn in a microwave, they began popping up into the air one by one.
'Oh boy.'
I quickly covered the bowl with a nearby plate. Whatever was happening inside transmitted through the vibrations against the plate.
'Nothing ever goes smoothly.'
If Hui saw this, he'd peg me as some demonic cult sorcerer. I had to be careful.
Thankfully, the notifications ended as the seeds settled.
'Perilla Seeds Bearing the Flames of the Black Tortoise... I can't wait to see what effects they bring in medicinal cuisine.'
I ground the enhanced perilla seeds into fine powder in a mortar and set it aside.
"And finally, the perilla leaves that Hero Hui worked so hard to gather..."
I grabbed a handful of chopped perilla leaves and scattered them into the cauldron.
'Must be my imagination? For a second, it looked like Hui's hand went to his sword at his waist...'
At any rate, the dish was complete.
I turned around to see Ryeongwol excited by the unfamiliar dish and Hui with saucer eyes.
I pointed to the furiously boiling gamjatang and flashed a sly grin.
"It's all done."
Master and Ryeongwol sat at the table in the hall's reception room.
"Master, Hero Hui is family who shares our rice. Why not eat together?"
Hui's surveillance from the corner bothered me, so I asked Master to join us.
"Very well, as my disciple wishes. Hui, sit."
"Ah, I... Understood, Master."
Hui seemed about to refuse but took the empty seat.
I brought over three bowls of bubbling gamjatang, placing them before them and one at my spot.
"Hmm, hearty and spicy aroma... doesn't look bad. But pork backbone... I'm not sure about the taste."
"Thanks for the hard work, Brother. I prefer meatier cuts, but... I'll eat it anyway."
"......"
They acknowledged my effort in their own ways, but without much expectation.
Soon, they lifted their spoons.
"Wait, please hold."
"...?"
Suddenly, Hui stopped Master and Ryeongwol from tasting. With a serious face, he said,
"Honored Master, forgive me, but shall I taste it first?"
Hui seemed worried the unfamiliar food might harm Ryeongwol.
But that meant suspecting me, a disciple of the White Tiger Butterfly Sect.
In the hierarchy-obsessed jianghu, it was an insult surpassing even me—to Master himself.
Instantly, the hall's air froze like midwinter.
The utensils on the table began to vibrate faintly.
Master unleashed bone-chilling killing intent toward Hui.
"That sounds good, Master. It's customary for someone to taste precious dishes first."
I wouldn't enjoy being doubted, but it wasn't worth such fury.
Thankfully, my words thawed the icy tension.
"Then, I'll eat."
Hui stirred the gamjatang, scooping some meat from the neck bone onto his spoon. The moment he brought it to his mouth,
"Hero Hui, eat this with it for the best flavor."
I extended my chopsticks, adding a few radish greens to his spoon.
"......"
Hui, who harbored strong aversion to the radish greens, glared at the topped spoon briefly before putting it in his mouth.
Nom nom.
Nom nom.
Nom nom.
His narrow eyes suddenly widened in disbelief, blinking rapidly.
"Hui, how is it?"
"Brother Hui, is it good?"
Master and Ryeongwol asked, but Hui tilted his head as if he hadn't heard.
This time, he loaded up on radish greens and tore off meat with the bone.
"Hey, Hui, I'm asking how it is."
"Brother Hui, is it tasty?"
"...Not bad."
Hui gave a curt assessment, pride bruised perhaps.
But his body was honest.
His face flushed with satisfaction and heat, sucking noisily at the marrow between the bones.
"Push it in like this with chopsticks—easier to eat."
Unable to watch, I demonstrated, and Hui mimicked immediately.
"Let's eat too."
"Yes, Grandfather."
Stimulated by Hui's enthusiastic eating—not quite mukbang but close—Master and Ryeongwol dove in eagerly.
Nom nom.
Nom nom.
"My word, such umami from pork. I've been eating it wrong all these years."
"Grandfather, the meat on the bone... melts in your mouth. Best pork ever. And try these dried greens. They look tough but chewy and soft—keeps drawing my hand back."
"Really? Let me try quick. Heavens, not just the dried radish greens—the broth's incredible too. Spicy enough to blast through ten years of phlegm."
"Right, Grandfather. My molars are flooding with saliva."
Master and Ryeongwol's reactions were explosive. Their hips fidgeted restlessly on their seats.
'Of course—who made it?'
"Eat up. Plenty left in the kitchen."
I'm a chef.
Watching them devour it like this filled me with heart-shaking pride.
My stomach was full without eating. I divided the remaining gamjatang equally over their bowls.
"I'll enjoy it, disciple."
"Thanks for more, Brother."
"......"
I expected token refusal, but they joyfully grabbed the neck bones with both hands.
"Kuh."
"Nom nom."
"Slurp slurp."
Empty bowls piled up before them like towers of stripped bones.
And then.
"Ryeongwol?"
Eating Ryeongwol tugged at her layered outer coats annoyingly and shed two of them.
"Wh-what? Grandfather, it's hot."
Clink—Master and Hui dropped their spoons.
"This is just for Ryeongwol, so sprinkle it on the rest of your gamjatang."
I added an extra spoonful of enhanced perilla powder to Ryeongwol's bowl.
Master and Hui had robust health needing no medicinal cuisine.
That's why I'd prepared the enhanced perilla powder solely for Ryeongwol.
Master placed his hand on Ryeongwol's wrist.
Using the True Qi Sensing Method to check his granddaughter's pulse.
Thump, thump, thump.
"...!"
Master's tightly shut mouth gaped open. A faint mist gathered at his eyes.
"...Heavens, Ryeongwol's qi and blood, her pulse... stronger yang energy than usual."
Not a full cure.
Yet my medicinal cuisine went beyond mere improvement—it seemed miraculous.
"Disciple, thank you. I won't forget this grace."
Suddenly, Master gripped my hand. His fingertips warmed, a faint tremor passing through.
"Brother, thank you... truly... I think I'll see the apricot tree in the yard bear fruit next year—no, the year after."
Master held my hand. Ryeongwol gently overlaid hers.
Her fingertips, cold as ice yesterday, now emanated spring sunlight warmth.
A small hope dawned for Master and Ryeongwol. My chest tickled oddly.
And then.
"...Hero Oh, thank you."
For the first time, Hui—who always called me 'little hero'—changed his address.
Of course, it didn't last long.