Chapter 30
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Struggles at the Grill
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A lot of people wonder why so many folks can't cook. Back in the day, sure, no internet or precise recipes to look up, so that made sense.
But these days? Tens of thousands of cookbooks, and just a quick search online floods you with simple recipes anyone could whip up.
All you have to do is follow along. So why the hell can't they?
I used to think the same way. Now I sincerely regret it.
"......"
Grilling meat was no different.
Just slap it on the hot plate, right?
...That's what everyone thinks. But one hallmark of people who can't cook is that they can't even handle something that basic.
'Never grilled meat before?'
I get it a hundred times over, a thousand. Honestly, even after starting to live alone, I hadn't grilled much myself. Back in college, whenever we went out for meat with friends, there was always one guy designated as the Grill Master.
As a kid? No need to even mention it. Mom and Dad handled it every time.
'Can't even grill meat?'
Anyone else hearing that might scoff or snort in disbelief. They'd probably write it off as a lazy excuse for not wanting to bother.
But I could understand it a million times over.
Because it was me doing it.
"Oppa, you gonna grill or what? The meat's gonna grow mold."
Oh Hana, all hyped up and cute with her dialect, urges me on. Sorry, but cute aside, I'm breaking out in cold sweat just holding the tongs. I suddenly feel infinite gratitude toward those friends who naturally took over the tongs and scissors whenever we went out.
"Hyunwoo-ssi, you okay? Should I... No, honestly, I have no confidence."
"No, I'll handle it."
But I can't just hand the tongs to someone who's never grilled before, either.
'I kinda get now why even with three of us living together, we're still surviving on packed lunches and frozen fried rice.'
All three of us were hopeless at cooking. Well, actually, there are probably more people who can't cook than who can.
"Mm. I'll grill."
I try to play it cool, slapping my palm on the hot plate to check the temperature. Good to go, right? Gotta be.
I grab the meatiest-looking one first—the round, steak-like piece. Damn it. What cut even is this?
"Samgyeopsal?"
"Nah, looks more like pork neck."
"Oh, yeah. Neck."
Pork neck it was.
*Sssssizzle!*
If a friend were grilling, it'd be a mouthwatering sound. But doing it myself? Is the fire too high? Is it burning? Every random thought races through my head.
"Kyaa! Love that sound. Love that smell! Yum yum!"
Oh Hana clacks her chopsticks together excitedly, but Han Ae-bom wrinkles her nose.
"Cut the rude behavior. At least wait quietly for Hyunwoo-ssi, who's grilling for us."
"Ana, seriously. Lecturing even here! Driving me nuts. Hey, Ae-bom-ssi, this is exactly when someone like me pumps up the vibe. If we just sit here staring blankly at the meat, Oppa'll suffocate and die."
"R... really?"
"See? Look at Oppa, so focused on grilling he hasn't said a word."
I'm already on the verge of dying here.
Should I flip it? Cut it? Or just keep going? Do I flip now? My eyes are glued to the grill. The heat keeps rising.
Damn it.
Glance at the next table: a veteran ajumma with a leisurely smile is single-handedly piling plates high for more than five kids.
"Whoa, she's amazing."
"Moms are the best."
The pressure weighs even heavier, choking me up. Then Oh Hana whispers a hint.
"Oppa, probably time to flip it."
"Hyunwoo-ssi, I peeked at the next table. Seems like they grill the neck a bit, then cut it. Probably so the inside cooks through."
"Ah, yeah. Got it."
Sure enough, the once-flat neck had shrunk a little, taking on an appetizing color. Snip snip with the scissors, and just like Ae-bom said, the pink inner meat is exposed.
"Oppa, Oppa. Stand that pink part upright and rub it on the grill a bit."
"Okay."
All three of us hopeless at grilling, so we huddle our heads together, pooling our non-existent knowledge. No one wanted to eat burnt meat.
Watching me sweat bullets over every single piece, Oh Hana shrugs her shoulders.
"Watching Oppa makes me realize... I'm suddenly so grateful to all those people who grill for us."
"Yeah. I guess I took it for granted. But thinking about doing it myself? Terrifying."
"Hehe, you know? And this is mild since it's unseasoned. Back in the day, I put marinated meat on once—flames shot up everywhere, the grill turned pitch black, and the meat was toast. Disaster."
"I see. Big difference between seasoned and plain, huh?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
Thank God Oh Hana's here. If it'd just been me and Ae-bom, with her staring politely at me the whole time? My lips would've curled inward and I'd have suffocated to death.
"Phew! All grilled."
Embarrassing to say it myself, but honestly? It turned out pretty good.
"Oppa, you grilled it all—good. Grilled it well—also good."
"Yeah."
"...But that's just one hunk of neck. Three bites split between us. Slap more on quick—even if they burn a little."
"Uh, uh, right."
I flinch at her words and toss on a thick cut and some samgyeopsal, not even sure what they were.
*Whoosh!* The oil catches fire for a second, and Han Ae-bom lets out a shriek. I jump too, thinking for a split second the whole place was going up.
"It's fine. Just the oil flaring up. Keep grilling like that."
"Ah, thanks."
A fed-up staffer rushes over, fiddles with the exhaust fan, flips the meat a few times, then flashes a kind smile at Oh Hana and Ae-bom before backing off.
"Kids, eat up lots."
"Yes, Mom!"
"Thanks, Auntie!"
Meanwhile, at the next table, she's demolishing meat at an insane pace—enough to sour the boss's face in real time. All I can say is impressive.
Decent pieces go straight to plates or the grill's edge. Center empties? New meat on. Is that what a mother's love looks like?
"Phew."
I'm mimicking her somewhat now, but damn. It burns. Burns way too well. Feels like only my meat's getting torched—like I cursed it or something. Inside needs to cook, but the outside's charring fast.
"Hits me now... living under the same roof as Oppa, if it wasn't delivery, it was always frozen fried rice or ramen."
"......"
What do you mean "hits me now"? That's our reality.
"Eit! Let's drink. Booze!"
Oh Hana, sensing the doom, calls for alcohol. Han Ae-bom flinches.
"Who'd think you've never had a drop."
"Ah, well."
Ah, well?
"Not total first-timer, but I don't really enjoy it. I've had wine, though."
Who is this girl? From the sound of it, feeding soju to Ae-bom could be disastrous, so I venture carefully.
"If it's like that, maybe something light like bee—"
"Eit! Beeeer?!"
She's got issues too. Oh Hana practically has a fit.
"All-you-can-drink joint and you're calling for beer?!"
Can't have beer? I swear I drank it with friends.
"Soju. Soju! What kinda girly drink is that?!"
This girl's Korean through and through.
"First time our three-roomie crew's out together—housewarming party, celebration! And you wanna push barley tea?!"
I'm dying of embarrassment. Her voice booms. And wouldn't you know, the table two over has college kids chugging ice-cold beers. They glance over. Eye contact.
Just watching Oh Hana talk tells you she's a pro drinker. Come to think of it, most of the boozers at the convenience store grabbed soju. Still don't get why anyone drinks that bitter stuff.
*Ding dong! Ding dong!*
While I'm refocusing on the meat, Oh Hana's rung the bell and ordered.
"Boss! Cool, tasty Chamday over here, please!"
"Pardon? Ah, yes. Got it."
Anyone can see he's not the boss, which makes you impressive for calling him that. And how do you pull it off so casually in a packed place like this?
"You seriously not embarrassed?"
"Huh? Why would I be? It's a pay-to-eat spot, and look around—not like we're the only loud ones. This ain't some fancy high-class resto you tiptoe through. People come here to get rowdy—sitting quiet would be the weird part."
"......"
Good lord. Han Ae-bom's completely out-logicked, mouth clamped shut. And yeah, even I had to admit she had a point.
What the hell was I so embarrassed about?
"Here you go. Enjoy."
"Thanks! Achoo!"
Oh Hana smacks the bottom of the soju bottle with her elbow.
*Click, pop.*
...She pops the cap, then confidently snaps the neck between her index and middle fingers. Han Ae-bom, puzzled, asks.
"Why do that?"
"Just performance."
That's it?
I thought it was to shake the poison from the top or something. Nah, just flair?
"Pfft, heh... pffft."
I couldn't help but burst out laughing. What an absolute legend she is. How do you crack up without even a sip?
"Whoa, Ae-bom-ssi, you put up with this."
"Told you to pipe down subtly."
"Hng, playing hardball? Fine, let's get real friendly tonight. Booze is key to true friendship, you know."
*Glug glug.* In a flash, she fills three glasses and slides one to each of us.
"Born on different days, but we'll die together!"
The Peach Garden Oath.
"Cheers!"
*Clink!*
We clash glasses and toss it back. And I feel something odd.
'Not bitter at all?'
Soju always hit me with that harsh alcohol bite right up the throat—straight to side dish or water. But this? Felt like cool, faintly scented water. No big deal.
"Kya!"
"Eut, kinda bitter."
Ahead, Oh Hana downs it smoothly, fine. But Ae-bom winces and chugs water right away. Doesn't seem watered down.
One of those days booze just goes down easy?
Or maybe...
"Oppa! Meat's burning!"
"Uwaaak!"
I screech and flip it frantically, eyes landing on Oh Hana already grinning as she tops off my empty glass.
Drinking with her makes it taste good, I guess. And just like that, Ae-bom and I get swept into her pace, mindlessly raising our glasses over and over. Two shots, three. Keep going.