Moryeomakjeok and the Unforgotten Queen
Several days had passed since Moryeomakjeok. I exchanged Gatong messages with Yi Hyang about once a day. But nothing about remarriage. Since he'd said he'd think it over, I decided to wait. In the meantime, I was preparing something else.
Oysters kept showing up on the royal table. Jeon Sun-ui must have dialed it back from three oyster meals a day to once. No more complaints from Yi Hyang meant it was manageable now. But cycling through just oyster soup, oyster pancakes, and steamed oysters wouldn't hold for long. How many oyster recipes did the royal kitchen even know? I started to search but stopped myself. Probably not that many. The head chef and palace ladies were no doubt wracking their brains, but they'd hit their limit by now.
I opened the search bar. Oyster Rockefeller. A dish originating from New Orleans, Louisiana. Oysters topped with a mix of butter, white sauce, and parsley, then baked in the oven. I'd tried it on a trip to the US back in med school. Named after Rockefeller, the richest man in America at the time—signifying its rich, intense flavor.
Rockefeller was of German descent. There's even a rye bread sandwich called Rockefeller Reuben. Probably because his ancestors lived near or farmed rye fields. Didn't matter if it was true. The point was, I lacked confidence explaining the name "Rockefeller" to Yi Hyang, but like eobyeong, it wouldn't cause a massive butterfly effect.
Oyster Rockefeller first appeared in 1889—440 years after 1451 in Joseon under Yi Hyang. But the ingredients? No reason they couldn't make it here. Grilling oysters in their shells was feasible. No oven, but they had wood-fired hearths. Parsley could be swapped with chamnamul. Though getting chamnamul in midwinter Joseon might be tough. Ssukgal had too strong a scent... Water dropwort—minari—would work as a substitute. Both chamnamul and minari are packed with vitamins A and C. By now, Yi Hyang must be sick of mucheong greens too. This was a natural way to slip in alternatives. Plus, vitamin C to boost immune cells and provide antioxidant effects.
No breadcrumbs, but suggest pine nut powder instead. Personally, pine nut powder alone felt like an upgrade over the original. Pine nuts are rich in vitamin E, unsaturated fatty acids for anti-inflammatory effects, and a bit of zinc—synergy with oysters, no doubt.
The issue was butter. Sesame oil has plenty of unsaturated fats, but its strong aroma would overpower the oyster's natural flavor. Not the same as butter's deep richness.
Aha! Lard. Yes, pig fat would do. Chinese places used to use lard back in the day. Their jjajangmyeon had way better flavor. Plus, lard is high in vitamin D among animal fats, aiding absorption of fat-soluble vitamins A and E—perfect synergy with the other ingredients.
I jotted down the adapted Oyster Rockefeller recipe with this combo. Explaining it to Jeon Sun-ui, he'd call it a tonic for giheol—vital energy and blood. Wording aside, we were aiming the same direction. No problem.
I opened Gatong.
The reply came lightning fast. Faster than when he mentioned going to see the Crown Prince for the royal consort selection.
'He's definitely sick of oysters...'
It was for Yi Hyang's sake. Still, I bowed my head briefly at my own—or rather, Jeon Sun-ui's—ruthlessness in making the King of Joseon react at hyperspeed.
I began explaining the Oyster Rockefeller recipe.
Read receipt. A strange recipe.
Wheat farmer's dish. Will pass to the royal kitchen and taste it.
No Gatong the next day. Eobyeong was recreated in a day, but after three failures and success on the fourth, I'd heard. Oyster Rockefeller might be trickier for them—unfamiliar oven-grill style, ingredient combos to balance.
Two days after sharing the recipe with Yi Hyang—the next day after that—contact came.
I chuckled alone at Yi Hyang's message. More bittersweet than pure joy. The more new menu items I devised for him, the more the royal kitchen suffered... Sorry.
'Jeon Sun-ui, I trusted you.' As expected, the naming expert. Took "wheat" (maek) from the story and slapped it on. Jeok means grilled over fire. I was deeply grateful for Jeon Sun-ui turning whatever I tossed out into proper Joseon nomenclature.
Remembering eobyeong's massive butterfly effect, I searched.
Moryeomakjeok. Thankfully, no big ripple. Just a few more restaurants serving Oyster Rockefeller—no, Moryeomakjeok—than before I spread the recipe to Yi Hyang.
This is a separate entry from maekjeok (Korean meat dish). For Korean meat dish maekjeok, refer to the maekjeok entry.
Moryeomakjeok
Category: Joseon cuisine | Palace cuisine | Early Joseon culture
Moryeomakjeok is an oyster grill dish invented during the reign of King Munjong (r. 1450–1453), the fifth king of Joseon. Features grilling oysters in shells over a hearth, topped with lard, chamnamul, and pine nut powder. The name was coined by Jeon Sun-ui, physician of the Royal Medical Bureau at the time.
That evening. It was about what Do-yoon had asked recently. I tensed up reading the Gatong. Definitely the remarriage talk.
'Yeah...' My breath caught. I read the Gatong twice. Cannot forget Lady Kwon. Cannot forget Lady Kwon.
Queen Hyeondeok, whom he couldn't forget like this—had I spoken out of turn? She died a day after birthing Danjong. Lady Kwon—Queen Hyeondeok—was twenty-four. Yi Hyang was thirty-eight now, so over a decade ago. Yet he still couldn't forget her.
But Do-yoon was right too. If it was for the Crown Prince, he must do it.
Inevitably led to health talk. From my side, health leading to remarriage felt half-expected.
"My body has not always obeyed." Past tense. Yi Hyang knew now. He could hold on longer.
Before meeting me via Gatong, he'd have refused remarriage talk outright. But now, he hadn't rejected my question.
Of course, not everything was solved. We didn't know why this Gatong connected us—or when it'd cut off.
Short sentence. "I believe Do-yoon because I have heard so." Loaded with meaning. Not just trusting the doctor Do-yoon. Because his health was improving thanks to me, he'd consider remarriage as the man beyond the doctor suggested.
I felt immense weight in those four words.
Read receipt. Long pause before Yi Hyang replied.
I said nothing—could say nothing. Who knew if Yi Hyang was the type to say such things. The Annals of the Joseon Dynasty noted Queen Hyeondeok's death but not their feelings for each other.
But to me, at least, Yi Hyang seemed like a pure romantic in modern terms.
His remarriage wasn't my domain to push. Knowing Joseon history, I'd just seized the chance to mention it. Since he'd said he'd think, waiting was right.
I decided not to reply—couldn't reply. Adding anything felt wrong. I just stared blankly at my phone again.
"I wonder if Lady Kwon would permit it."