Chapter 12
Chapter 12
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: The Purpose of the Table (7)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Oppa."
"Yeah?"
"How fast is that car?"
"Hmm... About four times faster than the cars driving around on the road?"
"Four times?"
"Yeah... Around that."
"Hmm...?"
I'm sitting with Yoon-seul on my lap, watching TV.
We've already had dinner, and it's that drowsy time of evening, but Yoon-seul's eyes are glued to the screen.
It's because of the racing program.
It's not a popular channel, but maybe it keeps going because of fixed viewers like us?
Vroom- Vroom-
The cars speeding along the track are always thrilling.
Yoon-seul seems really into it too, unable to look away, but hmm.
How should I explain that speed to her?
Saying it's several times faster than cars on 4-to-8-lane city roads—
That wouldn't make sense to a five-year-old at all.
Hmm...
Oh!
"Yoon-seul, if you rode in that car, you could get to Grandma's house in less than an hour!"
"An hour?"
"Yeah, shorter than it takes the long hand on the clock to go around once."
"Whoa! That's super fast."
Was that a good way to put it?
She seems convinced, raising her eyebrows.
Grandma's house is in Gangneung, at the eastern end of Gangwon Province, so at racing speed, we could definitely make it in under an hour.
Of course, we'd have to avoid traffic lights or jams along the way.
It just so happened that Grandma is coming to our house the day after tomorrow, so I used that as an example, and it didn't seem bad.
"Oppa."
"Yeah?"
"When's Uncle coming?"
"Hmm... Soon."
"Soon?"
"Yeah, soon."
I glanced at the clock— it was almost 10.
That means Ho-yeon Hyung should be closing up shop and heading over.
Kang-ssi Uncle would come too.
Last week, I took her to the used bookstore and left her there for half a day, and she had a great time with him.
Since then, she brings up Kang-ssi Uncle on her own sometimes.
Our little Joo-hyun-Yoon-seul house is going to feel cramped again.
Both of them are pretty big guys.
"Yoon-seul, shall we set the table now?"
"Pork?"
"Yeah."
"Yoon-seul kneaded it earlier."
"Right, you did. You helped Oppa."
"Yeah! It was fun!"
Some might call it an old soul's taste, but jeyuk is best after marinating.
It's sleeping peacefully in the fridge right now.
Before dinner, Yoon-seul and I had prepped the meat we'd bought, cutting it to bite-sized pieces and coating it in marinade.
The sticky, fresh marinade mixed with onions rubbed against the inside of my nostrils with its sweet and tangy scent.
Yoon-seul was already drooling and eyeing the meat, but when I said, 'Let's eat it together with the uncles when they get here a bit later,'
she swallowed hard and nodded.
As I was kneading the marinade evenly into the meat, Yoon-seul tugged at my pant leg.
'Oppa.'
'Yes, what is it, miss?'
She always does this when she wants to call me.
She could just say what she wants, but she calls 'Oppa' first, waits for my response, then continues.
It's probably not just Yoon-seul—kids her age all do this.
"Try Yoon-seul kneading it."
"This? Kneading it?"
"Yeah.. kneading.."
"Then we have to try. But since it's your first time, Yoon-seul, want to do it with Oppa?"
"Yeah! Fun together."
She giggles and wriggles her way in front of me. We sit side by side at the low table, kneading the meat.
I put her tiny hand under mine, overlapping our arms as we kneaded, and the feel of it was so novel to her that her nostrils flared—it was cute.
I get why people say I look like her dad sometimes.
Even to me, this scene feels a bit like father and daughter.
"Oppa."
"Yes, why do you call, ma'am?"
"Teach me cooking later."
"Cooking?"
"Yoon-seul likes cooking too."
Is it because I've been making a lot of food lately?
My little sister is suddenly getting interested in cooking.
Grandma ran a business too, so maybe there's a cooking gene in our family.
What if she says she'll take over our restaurant later?
Like, 200 years from now, it's a traditional eatery passed down five generations.
I let such fluffy fantasies swirl as I kneaded the meat with Yoon-seul.
Time passed, and when I took out the marinated meat again, the fragrant scent of seasoned pork wafted up.
"Whoa, put this on rice after warming it up—perfect, right Yoon-seul?"
"I ate rice earlier."
"Oh? Then Yoon-seul doesn't eat this, and just Oppa and the uncles will."
"I can eat seconds too..."
Lately, teasing her like this once in a while is fun. Her pure reactions without any pretense are charming, so I tease her without thinking.
"You can have seconds? Come to think of it, you only ate a little dinner on purpose, huh?"
"Yeah..."
She rubs her belly.
For a five-year-old, she eats quite a bit, but she's not chubby—just the right build.
Does not gaining weight run in the family too?
Buuuz-
A message came in right on cue.
Both of them met up and are heading over now.
The used bookstore and the butcher shop.
The two places aren't far, so they know each other.
Thanks to that, we can invite them together like this—lucky in a way.
"I need to get it ready so we can eat right when they arrive."
I take out the marinated pork and pour it into the quickly heating pan.
Sizzle-!
Moisture from the onions and green onions clashes with the pan's heat, bubbling up into the air.
From behind, Yoon-seul's "Looks like clouds..." mixes with the pan's sizzling and reaches my ears.
My mood lifts too.
The marinade and juices simmer down nicely, and the jeyuk cooks fast. The special ingredients give it a pretty red hue.
Then I pull eggplant from the fridge, and Yoon-seul's eyes narrow.
"Ugh.. eggplant."
She hunches like a cat clearly on guard.
What on earth happened between her and eggplant to make her so wary?
"Hey! Yoon-seul, it's too soon to judge eggplant. Even if you don't like it, try it once before deciding."
Of course, eggplant is one of those divisive foods. But that's because people have bad experiences from poorly cooked ones.
I slice the eggplant into bite-sized pieces and coat them in a thin batter made with starch.
Into shallow oil, fry crisp.
The bubbling oil turns the eggplant golden. Just imagining the oil-infused flavor makes my mouth water.
Chicken or croquettes need double-frying for crispiness, but eggplant is perfect with one fry—moist and textured.
It's about balancing the fry and the eggplant.
I pick up a freshly fried eggplant fritter with chopsticks and bring it to Yoon-seul.
Seeing the cute pale yellow fried coating, her cheeks droop.
"How's it look?"
"Hm? Eggplant?"
Does she not even recognize it as eggplant?
Well, there's a hint of purple skin, but if you didn't know, you might think it's just a snack.
"Wanna try one?"
"Mm..."
Without a word, she pops it straight into her mouth.
Phew-
Hoo-!
She chews.
It's fresh from the fryer, and she just shoved it in without hesitation.
She knows about heat, but her boldness is impressive.
"Hey, of course it's hot... Just fried it. You should've waited for Oppa to blow on it."
"Hoo.. hoo.. yummy... hot.. yummy.."
"Aigoo.. You're so cute when you eat well."
I ruffle her hair and quickly bring cold water.
She gulps it down.
"Phew-! It disappeared.. This is eggplant?"
"Yeah, fried eggplant. How was it, Ms. Jang Yoon-seul?"
"Super yummy!"
Thumbs up from my sister. Her tiny finger flicks like a joystick.
It was the ceremony the racer did after finishing the track in the racing show earlier.
The chubby-cheeked kid mimicking it.
I pat her back playfully.
How is she so lovable.
I've become a total little sister fool before I knew it.
Of course, just frying isn't enough for a restaurant menu. Need special sauce on top.
Better whip it up before the guests arrive.
Yoon-seul watches me cook quietly from the side. With her there, every moment of moving my hands felt effortless, not tiring.
**
"Who is it?"
Clang-
"Oh, Yoon-seul came to greet us?"
The doorbell rang, and I asked Yoon-seul to open the door.
Kang-ssi Uncle squats down to meet her eyes.
"It's Uncle."
"Uncle came to play with Yoon-seul?"
"Yeah! Choco Uncle."
Looks like Kang-ssi Uncle is fixed as the chocolate-giving uncle.
Oppa turning into Oppa is pretty good, all things considered.
"Isn't there a handsome Oppa next to Uncle?"
"Eh.. No, that's not."
Ho-yeon Hyung points to himself and claims 'Oppa.'
Yoon-seul frowns and scurries to me.
"Oppa's here."
My sister has clear preferences.
Seeing that, Ho-yeon Hyung pouts like a kid—did it hurt his feelings?
Hey, are you the five-year-old here?
A man nearing fifty shouldn't pout like a chicken gizzard.
I overhear bits of the three at the table as I drizzle sauce on the fried eggplant.
Looks like Ho-yeon Hyung's identity is 'Red Hat Uncle.' It's his shop name color, and he wears that hat often.
Today, it caught Yoon-seul's eye perfectly.
"Come on, Red Hat Uncle and Choco Uncle, eat up. Thanks for your hard work today."
"Hey! Joo-hyun, if you call me Red Hat Uncle too, I sound like a real uncle! Call me Hyung."
He's not the boss anymore, so I was thinking uncle or something, but he insisted strongly, so we agreed on Hyung.
With our age gap, it's not awkward.
"Ho-yeon... It's pathetic. At your age, you should just accept Joo-hyun calling you uncle. Never mind Yoon-seul."
"No, even Pil-jung Hyung? I want to live young!"
"You think wanting to live young makes you young? Just go with the flow."
"Sob... Cruel time."
Kang Pil-jung, the used bookstore uncle, lands a one-hit KO on Ho-yeon Hyung.
"Yoon-seul was waiting for you two without touching the jeyuk or eggplant fritters. Eat before it gets cold and talk."
Both turn to Yoon-seul.
Practically drooling.
They don't care what us guys are saying.
She ate a light dinner, so she's hungry around now.
But fUnniely, Yoon-seul's eyes are on the eggplant fritters, not the jeyuk.
Fried eggplant drizzled with reddish special chili sauce. Paired with the golden crust, it's aesthetically pleasing.
Topped with finely chopped green onions too.
Green, red, yellow—like traffic lights.
"Oppa, this one."
"Get you some eggplant?"
"Yeah!"
The two adults beside us widen their eyes.
Middle-aged guys with that expression look genuinely shocked.
A five-year-old asking for eggplant is pretty special.
"What, the kid likes eggplant?"
"You two try it first. I made it killer."
Nom!
Yoon-seul opens wide and stuffs in eggplant fritter slathered in thick chili sauce.
It's cooled to just-right temp, so no blowing needed—she chews happily.
Her face in pure bliss. Eyes twinkling like sunlight on ripples.
Seeing that, the two middle-aged men swallow hard.
Gulp-
They grab chopsticks straight for the eggplant fritters.
Crunch!
Munch munch-
Smiles creep onto the two men's faces too.