Budae Jjigae After Work, the Rich Aroma Rising from the Bubbling Broth
Budae Jjigae After Work, the Rich Aroma Rising from the Bubbling Broth
The storm of customers had finally blown over.
"Owner, you worked hard."
Andrea, done with the dishes, let out a heavy sigh and collapsed into a chair.
"I'm beat."
Slumped like a melted slime, practically lying down in the chair, she looked at me.
Her eyes held a deep, unmistakable craving.
I knew exactly what that look meant.
Meat. And rice.
It was obvious what a meat-loving elf waitress would want.
"Andrea, let's eat."
"What's the menu?"
She looked at me with expectant eyes — the exact same look a dog gives you when it knows it's almost mealtime.
Earlier this morning, the meat I'd ordered from a butcher who processes Pog meat into processed meats had arrived.
It was meat, yes, but not raw.
I opened the fridge and carefully retrieved the ham I'd been keeping tucked away.
— I tried making ham with the meat you sent, and the flavor came out far deeper and better. Did you source this meat from somewhere else?
Ham and sausage.
The moment I'd learned the butcher inside the castle walls could produce ham, I'd already been planning to place an order someday.
The reason I'd held off until now was simple: before the restaurant really took off, I was keeping the menu as lean as possible. If I'd stocked all kinds of ingredients from the start and then the place failed, I'd have eaten every loss myself.
But that wasn't a concern anymore.
Most of the customers in Britten Territory were now regulars who came back again and again. I was confident I wouldn't have to throw out any extra ingredients going forward.
We had signature dishes now, we had a steady crowd —
'Time to start developing new menu items.'
So I'd asked the butcher to make me some processed meats — using the very Pog meat from my own smokehouse, the meat I'd personally broken down and sliced.
I could still clearly picture the butcher's face when I'd sent him those cuts, every piece sliced with a mana-infused blade as carefully as I could manage.
There was one reason I'd gone to all that trouble.
Up until now, not a single dish made with ham had come out a success.
I'd always assumed imperial ham would fall short compared to the ham I remembered from my past life — ham produced with 21st-century technology — and in practice, that had been exactly the case.
I'd tried cooking with the ham that was standard issue to the knight order a few times, but no matter what I did, I could never pull out the flavor I had in my head.
Over my seven years as a cook knight, ham had been one of the very few ingredients I'd genuinely failed with.
Adding sauces, layering flavors — nothing brought out that specific, punchy, deep taste I was aiming for. Even when I tried bludgeoning the dish with other ingredients to cover it up, the base material was too weak to satisfy.
But meat that I'd minced myself? That worked.
After experiencing that a few times, I realized the key was slicing and cutting with mana: that was what drew out the raw ingredient's true flavor.
That said, I couldn't be sure the same principle would carry over to processed meat. I'd simply never had the time to experiment.
This was my very first attempt — sending meat that I'd butchered and cut myself to the butcher to be turned into processed meat.
'Judging by the butcher's reaction, it seems like a success...'
The rest I'd have to verify for myself.
I took out the ham and sliced off a thin piece with my knife.
Smoked to completion and perfectly cooked, the meat shone with its characteristic red hue.
I popped the slice into my mouth.
"Mm, not bad."
Not bad at all.
Easily the finest ham I'd ever tasted.
I could confidently say it was several cuts above the commercial ham commonly sold in the capital.
Was this the crystallized result of Lucas-style mana cooking?
'If it's like this, I can seriously consider building a whole lineup around ham and sausage.'
How should I put it... it was almost as if mana had taken over the parts that modern science used to handle.
What I could say for sure was that this was far more delicious than any ham I remembered from my previous life.
'I should make this a regular experiment.'
For now, it passed. What mattered was how well it paired with the dishes I planned to cook from now on.
"That's ham."
Andrea spoke with a note of deliberate disappointment.
"Raw meat's better?"
"Of course. The living grain of meat you've hunted yourself — that's when you truly feel alive."
"You might be changing your mind today."
"For once, I think the owner might be the one who's wrong."
Andrea looked at me with a self-assured face, radiating pride in her meat philosophy.
"You'll know once you eat it."
The moment the ham and sausages arrived, I'd already had a dish in mind.
The undisputed champion of traditional stews: budae jjigae.
'Fried egg and grilled Spam, gimbap, or stir-fried sausage and vegetables all came to mind too. You could julienne some potato, onion, and ham and do a nice potato-and-ham stir-fry, or even add diced ham to a rolled omelet, but...'
When you think "ham," the representative menu is — without question — budae jjigae.
Make a broth from red beans and minced meat, load it up with a generous dollop of seasoning paste, top it with an assortment of sliced ham and sausage, then add green onion, kimchi, and tofu, and let it boil furiously. The finest stew there is.
A miracle stew where, depending on your taste, you can throw in rice cake, dumplings, all kinds of extra noodles. A dish said to have been born from leftover ingredients from U.S. army bases, a food that once symbolized Korea's poverty.
I planned on making the legendary K-stew.
"Andrea."
"Yes, owner."
"Set the table while I make the stew. And bring out the green onions and onion, and get the wheat noodles from the fridge, too."
"Understood!"
While she moved, I sliced the ham and sausage into bite-sized pieces.
I cut the sausages on a long diagonal bias, then also split them lengthwise. The block ham I sliced into decent-sized steaks, strips, and julienned pieces — creating as many shapes as I could.
Once Andrea brought the green onions, I chopped them into thick chunks. The onion I sliced thin, then laid everything out over the wide, flat pot.
The black bottom of the pot was neatly lined with green and white — the pale onion and vivid scallion arranged carefully together.
Over that, I neatly placed the ham and sausage I'd just cut.
Beside them, I set some minced meat I'd prepared earlier, specifically saved for when the ham came in.
The tofu I'd steamed yesterday also got cut into good-sized pieces.
The kimchi I chopped fine and laid over the sausage.
Ham, sausage, green onion, onion, plus minced meat, tofu, and kimchi —
"Ingredients are set."
Then, beside the meat, I sprinkled doenjang, minced garlic, gochujang, chili powder, plus soy sauce and black pepper.
Over it all, I poured in sagol-guk I'd made by slowly simmering tuu leg bones.
The ratio of water to sagol-guk: three to two. If the bone broth was too intense, the soup turned heavy. Too much water, and it came out a little bland. Personally, I liked keeping that ratio.
I lit the flare range and waited for the broth to boil.
Bubble-bubble.
"Is it... done?"
As I stood watching the broth boil, Andrea asked. Her nose was twitching furiously.
Even as she put the question to me, she kept sniffing and snuffling, chasing the budae jjigae scent.
"I'd say it's ninety percent done."
"It looked easier than I thought it would be?"
"If you've got all the ingredients ready, it's not a difficult dish."
I spooned some canned imperial beans over the top.
They had a taste and texture pretty similar to baked beans from my original world — a decent little product, honestly.
Bubble-bubble.
As the broth began boiling more vigorously, generating larger bubbles, I used the ladle to stir the seasoning and ham together.
The soup, gradually staining a vivid red, now boiled roughly, spattering with fervor.
"Ah, I'm craving ramyun."
Throw some instant noodles into budae jjigae, and you've got the ultimate rice thief and drinking snack both at once.
Regrettably, there was no ramyun. Instead, I'd prepared thick wheat noodles to stand in for it.
Also known as: udon sari.
The properly boiled budae jjigae began to fill the restaurant with its quiet, pervasive aroma.
I set the portable flare range onto the table Andrea had set, then placed the now fully simmering pot of budae jjigae on top.
Bubble-bubble-bubble.
Insane.
I'd only had a late breakfast, and had been running on empty since then — just looking at it made my mouth water.
'This is a success.'
I could tell from the aroma alone. Out of every ham dish I'd ever made, this was the best.
"When can we eat?"
Andrea's question made me glance at the bubbling stew.
We could dig in right then and there. Apart from the green onion and the minced meat, all the ingredients had already been cooked once.
But I waited for the broth to reduce just a little more.
The broth needed to thicken slightly to unlock that deep flavor.
The heavy scent — beef bone, pork, green onion, and all those seasonings blending together — hit our noses.
'Now.'
I dipped the ladle into the furiously boiling budae jjigae, scooped up a generous portion, and handed it to her.
It was a proper, sturdy ladleful: red broth packed with white tofu, sausage, ham, and green onion.
I ladled some into my own bowl as well, then added the prepared noodle sari straight into the pot.
"Thank you for the meal."
"Try the broth first."
At my instruction, Andrea lifted a spoonful of broth first.
"......Huh?"
"So? How is it?"
Her eyes went wide as she looked at me.
"Th-this flavor comes from boiling ham?"
"I told you. This one would be different."
I knew what she was tasting.
The fact that the picky, prickly Andrea was making that kind of face after just a single sip of broth —
That meant it had already left "passing grade" far behind.
Following her lead, I took a spoonful of the budae jjigae broth myself.
"Khhh!"
Hot and sharply spicy, that deep broth flavor.
The profound savory depth born from combining sagol-guk, pork, kimchi, gochujang, and the various seasoning pastes hit my palate all at once.
"This is it."
This is budae jjigae.
No matter how hard I'd tried before, I'd never been able to pull out this taste. It really does take the touch of your own hands doing the prep work.
I was satisfied.
Using my spoon, I scooped up ham and green onion together and laid it over a mouthful of steamed rice.
A spoonful of rice now mingled with the seasoning and broth.
"Ack, hot!"
Way too hot.
Almost burned the roof of my mouth.
But separate from that, it was fucking delicious.
"That's the taste. There it is."
Every time the red budae jjigae broth soaked into my tongue and mouth, I felt bliss. When it comes to stews, budae jjigae truly is the king of kings.
'I really, really want ramyun.'
I picked up some of the thick wheat noodles — the type that looked like udon — with my chopsticks.
The white noodles were softly coated in broth.
I grabbed some ham along with the noodles using the chopsticks, and —
"Slurrrrp!"
The perfectly cooked carbs met the ham and the broth, creating a flawless harmony of flavor.
By the time I'd emptied about half a bowl of rice,
Scrape!
the sound of a chair being pushed back reached my ears.
Andrea had risen from her seat.
"Where are you going in the middle of eating?"
"Ah, well..."
She was holding her empty rice bowl.
"I was going to get another serving..."
"Ham dishes can be good too, right?"
"...I-it's good."
She couldn't even meet my eyes, as if embarrassed by having called ham tasteless earlier.
"I did say it was delicious."
Off she scurried toward the rice cooker — tak-tak-tak.
She scooped out easily twice as much rice as she'd taken the first time, then scurried back to her seat.
"Thank you for the meal."
"Eat well. And you don't have to say that every time."
We polished off the budae jjigae in silence.
Next time, I'd have to figure out a way to produce some ramyun noodles myself and try it that way, too.
"That was good."
***
Andrea, who'd gotten off work late again today, returned to the lodging Lucas had provided.
"Ugh, I'm wiped."
Working from morning until late at night always left her body sagging with exhaustion.
"I need to train..."
Under normal circumstances, picking up her sword and training before bed was a life routine she'd always kept — a warrior's habit for surviving in the wild.
But ever since she'd started working here, nighttime training hadn't even crossed her mind.
She was working too damn hard at the restaurant.
She'd never imagined there would be this many customers...
Aside from a single designated day off, she'd been working practically every day.
After more than three weeks on the job here, one thing had become clear.
"Lucas... is that man a monster?"
How could he work like this and never show a hint of fatigue?
In truth, he was arguably working far harder than she was. Wasn't he handling all the kitchen cooking alone?
"Going by stamina, he's no ordinary knight..."
Why was talent like that rotting away in a restaurant?
"I can't afford to slack on my own training."
She resolved to wash up after finishing her nightly drills.
Right. Vowing this, Andrea pushed herself upright — and immediately sensed something was off.
How to describe it...
Her body felt heavier?
'Am I just tired?'
It was as she was thinking this and looking into the mirror —
"......Huh?"
Had her muscles gotten... blurrier?