Outer Tough, Inner Soft
Munjong's first day of the Imshin year—the Year of the Snake—seemed to begin quietly. Of course, the royal kitchen would soon be thrown into a frenzy. My first day in 2026 was quiet too, but my mind was anything but.
Even while resting, nothing else could enter my head all day long. May 14th of the Imshin year—the day Munjong died in the original history. That day had now been changed to the date when he would select his new queen. Just like the final sentence in the altered Annals of the Joseon Dynasty, I spent the day praying he would become a sage king.
I'd gone to my first day back at work with a heart full of overwhelming emotions at the start of the new year, but regrettably, the hospital hadn't changed a bit. No matter the changing of the calendar, I had no time to even check my phone as I rushed between wards, and before I knew it, late afternoon had arrived.
A text came in from my girlfriend, Kang Seo-yeon.
Because I'd been messaging Munjong via Gatong so much, even texting Seo-yeon felt strangely distant now. I felt a pang of guilt inside, like I'd pushed my girlfriend to the back burner for the king.
Conveniently, since it was my first day back, I probably wouldn't have to pull an all-nighter. "Sounds good. Where?"
I paused to think. 'Chicken, huh...' Why chicken of all things? I knew the answer. Seo-yeon loved drinking but hated the fishy aftertaste of soju. So whenever she suggested a spur-of-the-moment meetup, it was 100% chicken and beer or pizza and beer. Guess she was craving chicken today.
Judging by the way she called it "chicken," it seemed like the butterfly effect I was worried about hadn't hit yet.
Seo-yeon's place wasn't far from our hospital. Not too close, not too far—the distance between my hospital and her home mirrored our relationship. In a good light, it was balanced; in a bad one, neglectful. As a boyfriend, it was something to feel guilty about, but if our relationship had ever blazed hot even once in the six years since we met through an introduction during my intern year, I might have abandoned either the hospital or Seo-yeon.
I like a roaring campfire, but I prefer a gentle, steady bonfire. Luckily, so did she.
The chicken place was cozy yet stylish. Wooden interiors with soft lighting, but not the dingy vibe of old pubs in Jongno or Euljiro. With a decent crowd on a weekday evening, the food must be good too.
The moment Kang Seo-yeon walked in, she grabbed the menu and her eyes sparkled. Getting excited about anything, anytime, anywhere—that was her specialty.
"The menu here's insane. Oppa, what're you getting?"
I sat across from her, taking the menu. Fried, smoked, sweet-and-spicy, boneless, soy, garlic, green onion chicken... 'Garlic?' My eyes couldn't help but pause.
Under the photo of the garlic chicken I knew so well was a fairly large caption: Joseon Palace Style (San-jwagye).
'Damn it...'
"Oppa? Craving garlic today? Haha."
"Yeah, let's get this."
I replied nonchalantly. Seo-yeon ordered fried chicken and garlic chicken. One chicken per person, right?
I set the menu down and quietly pulled out my phone.
"Oppa! Phone right after sitting down?!"
I was dying to know what kind of butterfly effect San-jwagye had caused, but I shoved the phone back in my pocket. We'd made it through Christmas fine, but push it and I'd trigger a Seo-yeon meltdown. To outsiders, our relationship might seem loose for lovers who only met sporadically, but when we did, we focused entirely on each other.
The chicken arrived. Seo-yeon cheered and grabbed a fried leg first. Crunch—
"Whoa, oppa! Their fried chicken's palace style too! Tastier than KZC?"
I'd just decided to avoid any risk of a Seo-yeon apocalypse, but my face slipped unconsciously. 'Palace-style fried? KZC?'
But I quickly schooled my expression and picked up a piece of garlic chicken, popping it in my mouth. Grittier on garlic than the version I knew... Probably the result of my tweaks for the allicin diet therapy.
"You got something bothering you lately? Worried about you in your third year of residency."
Seo-yeon asked, reading my face. I shook my head slightly.
"Nah. Same as always."
"Then, is it not tasty?"
"No, it's good~."
It wasn't a lie. Crispy despite the sauce, with tender meat following the intense garlic punch. And while I might not be the world's best boyfriend, I'd never lied to her. Not about Munjong either. I'd just... keep it under wraps for now.
Seo-yeon took a sip of her draft beer and asked, "Oppa, you've seemed really thoughtful lately?"
"Huh?"
"I dunno, you've been spacing out sometimes since late last year."
I chewed the San-jwagye—no, garlic chicken—and thought for a moment. What to say? Work was tough, sure. But I knew that's not what she meant. The Gatong and Munjong? Not the right time yet.
"It's nothing."
"'It's nothing' is proof it's something!"
She said that, then grabbed some garlic chicken. She didn't pry further. Another of her talents: knowing when to stop. Respecting what the other person wanted to keep hidden, even if just for a moment. In that way, Seo-yeon was like Munjong. Or rather, Munjong was like her.
I raised my beer glass. "Seo-yeon-ah, let's be happy this year too!"
We enjoyed our chicken and beer, chatting about my upcoming third year of residency, her promotion to section chief, work life, our families, and us—before parting ways.
I walked her to her door and turned to leave when the January chill hit me anew. Munjong's Joseon was probably in the depths of the first lunar month's cold too.
The moment I got home, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop.
Category: Food | Joseon Culture | Korean Food Culture
Jwagye is a fried chicken dish invented in the royal kitchen during the reign of Joseon's fifth king, Munjong (r. 1450–1453).
It uses a wheat flour batter fried in oil, named by royal physician Jeon Sun-ui of the Office of Royal Rituals, referencing China's zap frying method.
The garlic-sauced version is called San-jwagye.
Some food historians argue it influenced modern fried chicken. It spread to China, where the Cantonese pronunciation of (zap) traveled trade routes to the West, evolving further. KZC (Kenturkey Zapped Chicken), famous worldwide, is a prime example.
'Haa...' Another massive butterfly effect.
I pulled out my phone, which I'd kept pocketed all evening to dodge Seo-yeon's glares. Sure enough, a ton of Gatong messages.
Munjong wasn't the type to send so many, but with no reply, he'd just kept going.
[Gatong Message from Yi Hyang]
I tasted the chicken dish you told me about. I had Jeon Sun-ui try the garlic version too.
Jeon Sun-ui said: "Jap means grilling, so no. Jeong means steaming, also no. In China, frying in oil is called jak, so Jwagye is best."
The garlic one is San-jwagye.
I was at a loss for words upon tasting Jwagye in the royal kitchen. San-jwagye was stimulating, yet oddly addictive. Jeon Sun-ui said garlic's energy would benefit my health.
But after San-jwagye, my breath reeked.
I chuckled out loud. Munjong with garlic chicken breath... A sentence no history book would ever have.
Thanks to you, Do-yoon, we've added this new oil-frying method.
However, with Joseon's resources scarce, spreading it widely must wait for the right time.
This was probably the most Munjong had ever said in our Gatong chats. I felt bad for not checking all day because of my date with Seo-yeon. But just as the threat of the Gyeyu Rebellion hadn't vanished for him, the specter of Seo-yeon meltdown loomed constantly for me. Though Munjong didn't know it yet.
I sighed and replied.
'Crispy outside, juicy inside...'