55
Chapter 55 Attitude Toward Challenge
Sunday, April 13, 1997. Hana Food’s new product competition began in the company’s main auditorium.
Not only Hana Food employees, but also workers from failed competitor companies, famous chefs, experts, and ordinary participants gathered, making it one of the most competitive cooking contests in the country.
The competition ratio reached an astonishing 1000 to 1, ten times higher than the previous year.
This was largely due to the 2 percent royalty reward and the chance to appear on a TV program with a 50 percent rating.
“It’s packed.”
The production team looked at the crowded hall and shook their heads.
“But it’s a bit disappointing.”
“What is?”
“Even if it’s a fair competition, does it make sense for desserts and main dishes to compete together?”
“That’s true, but what can we do? Run separate competitions for each category?”
“…That’s fair.”
“This is the only practical way.”
“Still, it’s strange that people with such impressive backgrounds are making such ordinary things.”
PD Kang Jiseop flipped through participant profiles and clicked his tongue.
“Why are they like this? It’s a new product competition, and all they suggest is adding shrimp or ribs to dumpling filling?”
“There are a lot of weak entries.”
“But compared to spending an hour making ramen, tweaking dumplings seems better.”
“I don’t know. Let’s just do our job.”
“Still, it’s obvious Mino will win easily.”
Despite famous chefs participating, none seemed capable of surpassing Mino’s potato cheese hot dog and honey butter potato.
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Why? Is there a dark horse?”
“No. People like overwhelming geniuses.”
“…What?”
“Did the NBA fail when Michael Jordan dominated? No. More people wanted him to win than lose.”
“…True.”
“But there’s one question.”
“What?”
“Will Mino really win first place?”
“…Isn’t it obvious?”
“Maybe. But familiar tastes are powerful. When simple, familiar dishes are presented, will the judges evaluate value as strictly as executives?”
“…That’s true.”
“Then Mino might be at a disadvantage.”
“…Even if he loses, his products will succeed anyway.”
“Exactly.”
Even before judging, Hana Food employees had already decided their main products would be truffle oil, potato cheese hot dogs, and honey butter potatoes.
“Still, it would help our show if he wins.”
“Of course. We need a genius like him.”
“It would be great if judges could see his cooking process too.”
“Unfortunately, he refused.”
“He’s difficult.”
“That’s why he’s successful. His fairy tale is already a hit in America.”
“No kidding. It was supposed to be ours.”
The program about his fairy tale success was airing separately.
“Let it be. Ours will run longer.”
“Still, they’re expanding it to ten episodes.”
“They’re milking it.”
“They’ll also cover his new work.”
“As long as it doesn’t interfere with us.”
“Of course.”
The two programs had good synergy.
Then—
“Is giving a knife to someone aiming for the Chopin Competition also part of professional ethics?”
A sharp voice interrupted.
“Who let an outsider in?”
“She’s not an outsider.”
“She’s from the Woosung Cultural Foundation.”
“…Ah.”
The staff stepped back.
“Welcome.”
“Honestly, I’m displeased.”
Lee Gaye, from the foundation’s scholarship team, was furious that Mino was cooking instead of practicing piano.
“Don’t worry. He’s very skilled—”
“Accidents don’t happen on purpose.”
“….”
“No matter how much we want to promote our foundation, we won’t tolerate this.”
“I’m sorry. This was planned before the piano challenge.”
“So everything must have felt easy for your genius. Easier than exams, easier than painting, easier than cooking.”
“….”
“It’s obvious from his attitude.”
‘This is bad.’
“Actually, that’s my fault. He never said that.”
But she didn’t believe him.
“He said he would only learn Chopin, didn’t he?”
“….”
“That’s the most arrogant thing I’ve heard.”
“He’s still young…”
“He’s done too much to be called just a child.”
She concluded—
“He looks down on music. I came to show him how insignificant he is.”
‘Why her of all people…’
“…But have you considered why he chose piano?”
“Because it’s easy.”
“Partly. But mostly not.”
“Then why?”
“Because painting became exhausting.”
“…What?”
“People constantly ask him to prove himself. Draw something. Show your talent.”
“…I see.”
“It never ends.”
“….”
“But piano is different. Without a piano, no one asks.”
She paused.
“…That makes sense.”
“He said piano exists only where it should.”
“….”
“And he talked about Chopin.”
Her expression sharpened.
“Chopin’s études are beautiful.”
Her lips curved slightly.
“And different from Hanon.”
“Wait, did he learn piano before?”
“He learned briefly in America.”
She clenched her teeth.
“So he respects Chopin as someone who turned technique into art.”
“…Fine. Let’s see how well he plays.”
“Of course.”
“Bring him to the foundation.”
“And if he fails?”
“Then no lessons.”
‘She’s strict.’
“Are you nervous?”
“Not at all. He’s a genius of attitude.”
“…What?”
“Just listen to his playing first.”
“…We’ll see.”
She still thought he was arrogant.
“Just like someone who dismisses Hanon and Czerny.”