Chapter 90: The Outcome of the Match
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 90: The Outcome of the Match
"I figured as much, so I came prepared."
Having devoured a bowl in an instant with just the Pork and Bean Sprout Stir-fry, I took the second bowl Fuma-senpai handed me and prepared to taste the next dish.
This time, it was Seasoned Bean Sprouts.
The dish, which seemed to be seasoned with salt, soy sauce, and sesame oil, gave off a wonderfully savory aroma.
The crisp texture, the salty seasoning, and the rich flavor of the sesame oil created a pleasant harmony.
After a bite of rice, I moved on to the Miso Soup with Bean Sprouts.
This, too, was an ordinary miso soup, but the crunchy texture of the bean sprouts gave it a different charm from a typical soybean paste stew.
'So far, the taste is about what I expected.'
Delicious, but not special. A common flavor you could find anywhere.
Perhaps the fact that bean sprouts are such a common ingredient worked against her.
'Fuma-senpai's final batter is the Bean Sprout Teppanyaki, I see.'
It was a simple dish of lightly blanched bean sprouts stir-fried in the same black, secret sauce that had given the pork stir-fry such an incredible flavor.
In fact, it was so simple it felt almost wrong to call it a dish, but the aroma stimulating my nostrils told me this was the true dark horse.
Gulp.
"I made a lot, so eat up and have some more."
With those words, Fuma-senpai presented a mountain of bean sprouts coated in the black sauce.
Saying my thanks, I grabbed a generous portion with my chopsticks and put it in my mouth.
"...!"
It was delicious.
I don't know if I should say this, but it felt even more delicious than meat.
The three components—the unique crispness of the bean sprouts, the sweet and savory seasoning of the secret sauce, and the light, smoky flavor—were a perfect match.
Moreover, unlike meat, which can feel heavy and greasy if you eat too much, the bean sprouts were so light they didn't fill me up at all. I could literally keep eating.
As I single-handedly polished off nearly a third of the mountain of bean sprouts on the plate, the Vice President and Minami, who had been watching from the side, put some in their mouths with tense expressions.
"!!!"
Both of them started shoveling the bean sprouts into their mouths as if possessed, their faces showing they had discovered a whole new world of flavor.
This was scary.
As the son of a restaurant owner, it was a truly terrifying dish.
To capture two birds with one stone—taste and cost-effectiveness.
Seeing the three of us judges, Fuma-senpai puffed out her chest triumphantly, while the President bit her lip, looking slightly anxious.
But soon enough, her usual confident expression returned. As we finished tasting the bean sprout dishes, she thrust her trademark black fan toward us and declared.
"Now, it is my turn!"
*
Following Fuma-senpai's unexpectedly powerful bean sprout full course, the President brought out a hot pot for four.
Of course, there was no way Fuma-senpai, who lived alone, would have such a large pot, so everything had been purchased on the spot from the supermarket.
Compared to Fuma-senpai, whose ingredients didn't exceed 2,000 yen, the President's dish—with its 2,000 yen pot and 10,000 yen electric induction cooktop—had already blown past the budget from the very beginning.
But the real show was just starting.
The broth was made with about 5,000 yen worth of bonito flakes, shiitake mushrooms, kelp, and powdered anchovies. Then came an assortment of organically grown vegetables and mushrooms, high-quality tofu, and fried tofu pouches, costing about 3,000 yen.
And for the finale: 900 grams of A5-grade Wagyu sirloin for shabu-shabu (13,000 yen, tax not included).
To create this single pot of shabu-shabu before us, about 33,000 yen had been spent.
It was a hefty sum to spend on a single meal, but unfortunately, the President, born into wealth, had no such awareness.
"You can start lightly with the vegetables and mushrooms, then move on to the tofu, fried tofu pouches, and beef. To finish, you can have porridge or udon."
The President explained as she handed each of us a plate.
Fuma-senpai gulped at the sight of the bright red beef, but her pride seemed to stop her from taking a plate.
It looked like she planned to eat after the judging was over.
Soon, we began to eat the shabu-shabu as the President had instructed.
Generally, shabu-shabu and nabe are similar types of dishes.
You cook various vegetables and ingredients in a hot broth, and then finish with porridge or udon.
However, while the meat in nabe is usually seasoned to some extent, shabu-shabu is all about savoring the natural flavor of the ingredients.
I tasted the broth first.
"Ahhh..."
A sigh escaped me involuntarily.
Even without any MSG, the use of high-quality ingredients created a dizzying umami flavor.
Next, I tried an oyster mushroom that had soaked up the warm broth.
"Hah, hah."
Its chewy texture, different from meat, stimulated my appetite.
Then it was time for the vegetables and tofu.
The vegetables and tofu, softened in the broth, fell apart at the touch of my chopsticks, so I had to lift the bowl to my mouth to eat them.
As I slurped them down with the warm broth, I could taste the familiar sweetness of the vegetables and the savory flavor of the tofu, made from good soybeans, at the same time.
Next up were the fried tofu pouches.
Japanese fried tofu pouches, unlike their Korean counterparts, are quite sweet.
I was honestly surprised the first time I had them, but I've grown used to it now.
I took a bite of the fried tofu, which paired well with the simple broth.
Though made from the same soybeans, the charm of the fried tofu pouch lies in its completely different taste and texture from regular tofu.
"Well then, I suppose it's time for the main character to make its entrance..."
As the Vice President muttered this, Minami, who had been inhaling the shabu-shabu, nodded eagerly.
A++ grade Wagyu sirloin, something not often eaten in a typical household.
Slices of Wagyu, rolled up to a thickness that was neither too thin nor too thick, were dropped into the broth one by one.
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
Counting silently, I pulled the meat from the broth just before it was fully cooked.
"Hoo, hoo."
I wrapped the steaming hot meat in cabbage and crown daisy that had turned completely soft and dipped it in the soy-based sauce.
Then I took a big bite.
'...Delicious.'
Is this... the taste of capitalism?
Good vegetables were cooked in a broth made from only good ingredients, and then I ate good meat.
I was lost in the flavor of the Wagyu that filled my mouth.
I never knew there could be such a difference in taste, even among beef.
It seemed that all the beef I had eaten until now was nothing more than a cheap imitation.
After mindlessly swishing Wagyu chuck in the boiling broth until I was reasonably full, we finished by adding udon noodles to the pot.
The shabu-shabu prepared by the President was, in a different sense from Fuma-senpai's bean sprout course, a perfect course meal.
You could experience the beginning and the end all in one pot.
That was the charm of shabu-shabu.
In any case, now that we had tasted both dishes, all that was left was to choose.
I looked at the Vice President and Minami.
It seemed both of them had already made up their minds.
We announced our decision to the two contestants, who were waiting for the results with nervous expressions.
"The person we have chosen as the winner is..."
*
"Argh! This is so frustrating! To think bean sprouts could be this delicious!"
"Ahh, it's been a long time since I've had beef this good."
Those were the assessments of the two after they tasted each other's food once the final result was decided.
Since we had already finished our dinner under the pretext of judging, we simply watched with satisfaction as the two sat facing each other, enjoying their meal.
"I'll hone my womanly skills and win for sure next time!"
"Heh, you'd better try your best, President."
The final winner of the cooking battle, as decided by me, the Vice President, and Minami, was Fuma-senpai.
It wasn't that the President's dish tasted bad, but the deciding factor was the existence of the Bean Sprout Teppanyaki.
First, the value for money was overwhelmingly better.
Compared to Fuma-senpai's dish, which could be made with just a bag of bean sprouts and a bit of her secret sauce, the President's shabu-shabu cost nearly ten times as much, even excluding the price of the pot and the induction cooktop.
And the bean sprouts were just too delicious.
The very fact that I found a vegetable that costs 100 yen more delicious than meat meant the game was already over.
For a big eater like me, cost-effectiveness is an issue I can't ignore.
Anyway, thanks to their competition, we got to enjoy an unexpectedly delicious dinner. Not wanting to overstay our welcome, we decided to head back.
Until the very end, Fuma-senpai tried a clumsy seduction, saying, "If you ever change your mind, just let me know, Kim Yoo-Sung," but thanks to the President's interference, I was able to escape unscathed.
On the way home.
Since we were heading in the same direction, I got a ride in the President's limousine and asked her a question.
"By the way, President, how do you know Fuma-senpai?"
The President replied, her face still showing a hint of frustration.
"We've been in the same class since our first year. We're not particularly close, but we'd say hello. Not that I'll be doing that starting tomorrow."
So that was the story.
It was a day I learned about the President's narrow social circle and saw a new side of her.
And the leftover ingredients were deliciously eaten by the staff... I mean, by Fuma-senpai.