Michelle Gulped Down the Spicy and Tangy Mulhoe. It Was Incredibly Delicious.
Michelle Gulped Down the Spicy and Tangy Mulhoe. It Was Incredibly Delicious.
The moment Michelle saw Bldi, the scene from that morning flashed through her mind.
Bldi clinging to Lucas as he fished on the beach.
The beach was a space that belonged only to her and Lucas.
A space with no intruders.
She'd been savoring that knowledge, that secret hour she spent with him.
A human fishing on the shore, and a mermaid watching that human from beneath the waves.
Maybe it was the strange communion between two species, two realms.
That morning, she'd watched which fish Lucas took back with him, imagining the dish he'd make from it.
It was yearning for a new world, and it was possessiveness over Lucas.
Her anticipation for today's lunch was wrapped up in it, too.
The walk to the restaurant, heart thumping, had been pure happiness.
And that woman had ruined it.
Before she knew it, Michelle's eyes were sharp.
'A foxy little thing, making eyes at Lucas behind my back on land.'
If her subjects under the sea had seen her expression, they would have been horrified.
"E-eep!"
Bldi flinched when their eyes met and ducked behind Andrea.
'What is she?'
The woman looked utterly harmless.
First impression: a herbivorous fish.
The kind of fish that eats nothing but seaweed, that startles the moment anyone swims past and vanishes under a rock.
'Did she win him over with that timid act?'
Plenty of women in the Dragon Palace used that same approach. She knew well enough that among mermaids, the ones who made men want to protect them were the most popular.
This woman was clearly that type.
She hated it.
And she hated it even more because it felt like her private time with him had been stolen.
"Who might this be? I don't believe we've met."
"Ah, a new employee. She just started today — a trainee."
"I see."
"H-hello..."
Bldi kept her head low and retreated even further behind Andrea.
Still, Michelle couldn't exactly tell her never to come to the beach again.
If she did, she'd have to reveal the whole truth: that she was a mermaid.
She had no desire to do that.
Not yet. She wanted to keep it hidden.
She didn't want to seduce Lucas by flaunting that she was someone special.
Admittedly, deceiving him came with a pang of guilt...
— Never reveal that you are a mermaid to any land-dweller.
The Sea King's warning kept sealing her lips.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Y-yes..."
Michelle let the tension drain from her eyes and offered Bldi a gentle smile.
She had no intention of leaving a bad impression in front of Lucas. She wanted to show him she was a good princess — a mermaid whose warmth extended not only to her personal chef but even to his newest hire.
Graciousness.
A warm princess who could embrace everyone.
Just as she had with so many creatures of the sea.
But there was one thing she needed to confirm.
"Out of curiosity... what exactly is your relationship with Sir Lucas?"
"..."
Bldi couldn't meet her eyes and stumbled over her words.
"Th-that's... well... um..."
Andrea stepped up to Michelle.
"Hey, what's the idea, scaring her like that?"
"Andrea, 'hey' is not how you address a customer."
"No, come on. Are you telling me you didn't see her just now? Staring the poor thing down?"
"I told you — no matter what happens, you're polite to the customers."
"Ow!"
Lucas flicked Andrea on the forehead.
Michelle felt a rush of satisfaction that Lucas had taken her side — and yet, it left her oddly wistful.
'He treats her so casually.'
It was the look on his face as he did it — the easy smile while he rapped Andrea's forehead.
What was it about that expression?
It carried an exchange of feeling between the two of them, something she wasn't part of.
She wished he'd look at her like that.
Not the formal, polite face he wore for an ordinary customer — she wished he'd throw her that same unguarded, genuine affection.
If he did, she'd welcome it in a heartbeat.
— Michelle, it's a stew to wake you gently in the morning. The ingredients are abalone innards blended with milk for creaminess...
Every morning, she let herself imagine him cooking just for her.
The fantasy alone lifted her mood. Three meals a day of that incredible food, every single day.
'I'd be so happy.'
A smile came unbidden, and her heart softened.
"It's all right."
"My apologies. I'll make sure the staff training is handled properly."
"No, truly, it's fine. I was the rude one. Asking such a personal question out of nowhere..."
Andrea cut in again.
"Well, it was a little rude. Who corners a shy girl and interrogates her like that?"
"Andrea!"
Michelle found Andrea's constant interruptions grating. But a royal's patience was forged tougher than anyone's.
"By the way, Sir Lucas. You mentioned earlier you'd prepare something new for me. Mulhoe, wasn't it?"
"Ah, yes. I'll make it right away."
She couldn't take her eyes off him as he disappeared into the kitchen.
***
Before things could escalate into a fight, I got back to cleaning the squid.
'Could Michelle have figured out that Bldi's a vampire?'
It didn't seem like it. Still, a being radiating magi was bound to trigger a visceral distaste in some people.
Andrea and I had both felt it the first time we saw her, after all.
We'd ultimately decided she posed no real harm and took her on as staff, but that didn't erase the effect entirely. Anyone with a certain level of strength would pick up on something off about Bldi.
'She really might struggle with the front-of-house work.'
As I rinsed the cutting board with water, I glanced at Michelle, who was radiating a peculiar hostility toward Bldi. Her gaze shifted from the girl to me, and our eyes met.
The instant our eyes locked, she gave a sharp little start and looked away.
"Aren't you curious, Sir Lucas? About where I come from?"
"Am I supposed to be?"
"N-no, I didn't mean it like that. It's just... wouldn't a woman who never reveals her identity and pays for her meals with expensive gems strike you as suspicious?"
I watched her fumble for a moment.
"I chose not to ask because I assumed you had your reasons."
"Are you... used to this sort of thing, Sir Lucas?"
"What sort of thing do you mean?"
"When I first mentioned I wanted to recruit you as my personal chef — you didn't seem all that surprised then, either."
"Ah."
Before I answered, I drove the knife into the squid's body.
"Hngh!"
Michelle flinched.
Fair enough. To a noble young lady, it probably looked brutal.
"If it bothers you, you don't have to watch."
"N-no. I have to watch. It's practically an obligation..."
Curious woman.
I kept working on the squid as I spoke again.
"To answer your earlier question — it's happened a few times. Someone wanted me to move to the imperial capital with them. Another wanted me to become a chef for a merchant group."
"..."
"I turned them all down. I like working here."
"So even if I were to offer again..."
"I'd refuse."
"Just as I thought..."
She seemed to drift into thought for a beat, then spoke.
"Sir Lucas. Hypothetically."
"Yes."
"What if I were someone special, carrying a very large secret?"
"A special secret?"
"A hidden birth, perhaps. A person of great importance, if you only knew. Or even... not human."
"What difference would that make?"
"...?"
"Having a secret like that doesn't mean you stop being a customer of this establishment, does it?"
Michelle bit her lower lip softly and smiled.
"You really are a generous man, Sir Lucas."
"Ha, well — you are a very special customer here, Miss Michelle."
"A s-special customer?"
"Yes. You're the only one who truly loves my fish dishes."
"Hm. I see. Yes. I do believe your fish dishes are the finest, Sir Lucas. Ahem."
Lucas, focused on the squid, didn't notice.
He didn't see that Michelle's face had turned as red as the mulhoe sauce itself.
I sliced the squid body much thinner than when I'd cut it for hoe earlier.
Thin enough that my fingers kept getting pushed back by the blade.
The key was to get it so thin you could hold it up to paper and still read the text through it.
Of course, some restaurants sliced it thicker to emphasize the chew. I personally preferred it thin, so the broth could soak in properly between each layer of flesh.
There's no single right answer.
Cooking splits along the lines of taste more often than not.
Isn't that true of steak, too, depending on how someone likes it done?
Rare, medium, well-done — adding garlic while it sears, basting the top with oil — all variations on a single act.
'Same thing here.'
Once the squid was thinly sliced, I piled it with julienned cucumber, pear, lettuce, and tender young lettuce.
"You seemed to recognize the trainee, though — are you acquainted with Bldi?"
"Excuse me? Ah, no. It's just — I'd never seen her face before."
"I see."
Finally, I ladled the gochujang-based broth I'd prepared earlier over everything — spicy, sour, with a clean sweetness at the tail end — pouring until the ingredients were just barely submerged. The icy, slush-flecked broth cascaded over the bowl, finishing the mulhoe.
"Right."
Last touch: a gentle rain of toasted sesame seeds, shaken over the top.
In a single moment, the spicy-sour mulhoe was complete.
Mulhoe, like hoe, took almost no time — no fire, no complicated technique. Just assembly.
The crimson broth glossed every surface of the squid and vegetables.
"...That smells good."
Bldi sniffed at the sauce, and ran her tongue over her lips like she wanted to eat it — even though it wasn't blood.
Probably the minced garlic in the broth.
"Here you are."
I handed the freshly made mulhoe to Michelle, who had watched the whole process.
"Start with the mulhoe as is. Once there's a little left, stir some rice into the broth — that's excellent, too."
"Thank you..."
Michelle stared down at the finished dish for a long moment.
"Is this how you always prepare it? Raw, straight from the catch?"
"Yes, that's what hoe is. A dish that preserves the natural taste of freshly caught fish. Fresh squid is absolutely best eaten as hoe."
"Right... it was delicious..."
"Then you'll be just as happy with the mulhoe."
She closed her eyes briefly, then lifted her chopsticks and mixed the squid flesh and vegetables thoroughly into the sauce. Once everything was well-coated, she took a bite.
Crunch. Chew-crunch.
The bright, sharp smack of spicy-sour sauce against the tongue. The firm, savory fragrance of squid. The crisp snap of fresh vegetables between the teeth.
"It's good. It's so good."
A single tear slipped from the corner of Michelle's eye as she ate.
Glad it suited her.
'First the fried squid, now this — maybe she just really likes squid.'
I made a note to push squid as a staple going forward.
With a regular who loved it this much, of course I'd put it on the menu.
I still had a long list of dishes to make with squid, after all.
I transferred the leftover squid strips from Michelle's bowl into a smaller serving bowl for myself — lettuce, pear, cucumber, the same arrangement, the same icy broth poured over top.
Chopsticks went into the red, slush-flecked broth, mixing until the sauce seeped between every piece of squid, and I lifted a generous mouthful.
Slurp.
Crunch. Crunch.
Ah, that spicy-sour flavor spreading pleasantly through my mouth.
"Mmm. Good."
My shoulders did a little shiver.
'Hoe really does live and die on how fresh and tasty the raw ingredient is.'
Now that I'd had my satisfying taste, I looked up and noticed Bldi staring at the bowl in my hands, practically drooling.
"Th-that looks so... good."
Andrea, on the other hand — fish-hater that she was — wore an expression that clearly said, Why would anyone eat that?
"I'll make some for you two as well."
"Will you make us that hoe dish, too?"
"No."
There are few things more cruel than forcing raw fish on someone who hates fish. Let me eat the precious stuff myself — why force-feed someone who doesn't want it?
"But we've got fresh-caught squid. Can't just not use it."
So I'd make a squid dish that also used the kind of meat Andrea actually liked.
"Andrea, grab the pork belly from the fridge."
"Got it."
Osam bulgogi — exactly what I'd been planning from the start.