The Man Who Cooks and Emily Bleuenn Arnault
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Birdsong stirred Han Shin from sleep. He rubbed his eyes as soft morning sunlight spilled through the window.
Beside him in bed, Emily lay sleeping, her face peaceful and unaware.
Careful not to wake her, he gently brushed a strand of her platinum-blonde hair aside.
"Mmm… Manager…"
Is she awake?
"I like you… mmm-nyam… nyam."
Still deep asleep.
He slipped quietly out from under the covers, washed his face, and headed for the kitchen, already turning over what to make for breakfast.
Korean-style, English-style, French-style? Since we're in England, I should treat her to a proper English breakfast.
Tying on a gray apron, he opened the fridge and surveyed the ingredients.
For a classic English breakfast he would need eggs, thick-cut bacon, and sausages. In the cupboard sat a lonely can of baked beans and a loaf for toast.
A few things are missing. Maybe I'll put my own spin on it.
Instead of black pudding made from pig's blood, a vegetable salad. In place of hash browns, rice for the carbohydrate.
And for the finishing touch—the caviar from the three great delicacies I bought to celebrate moving in, served with the salad.
The perfect crowning glory.
"Okay. Time to try my own little twist."
He began by rinsing the rice carefully and setting it in the cooker so that, as it slowly steamed, a soft, warm fragrance would fill the kitchen.
Next came the salad. He took out fresh romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, butter lettuce, and an avocado, washing them thoroughly.
He tore the romaine into bite-sized pieces and dropped them into a salad bowl. The cherry tomatoes he halved for color; the butter lettuce he shredded into easy mouthfuls. Finally he split the avocado, removed the pit, scooped out the soft flesh, and sliced it lengthwise.
With the ingredients ready, it was time for the dressing.
He mixed sun-drenched Mediterranean olive oil, balsamic vinegar, a pinch of sugar in place of honey, and seasonings until everything blended smoothly.
Dipping a pinky into the finished dressing, he tasted it.
"Mmm… delicious."
Then he laid thick bacon made from pork belly on the cutting board and sliced it. A whisper of oil went into a hot pan; the bacon slices hit the surface and began to crisp, releasing the rich, savory scent of pork fat.
While the bacon cooked he spooned off a little of the rendered fat, then turned the sausages evenly until they were golden and transferred them to a plate.
Eggs next—seasoned with a touch of salt and pepper, gently stirred into soft, moist scrambled eggs.
Almost done. Though… did I make too much salad?
He portioned the generous salad into serving bowls and wrapped the rest for the fridge. Dressing went over the top; as he tossed it, the vegetables released a bright, fresh aroma.
"A few more circles of olive oil…"
With a small spoon he lifted black pearls of caviar from their round tin and arranged them evenly over the thinly sliced avocado.
Crispy bacon, golden sausages, soft scrambled eggs, and steaming fresh rice—he plated everything beautifully, finishing with the caviar-topped salad.
Wait… I forgot something.
The can of baked beans still sat untouched in the cupboard.
"Ah, that one… my hand just doesn't reach for it. Next time."
He poured freshly squeezed orange juice into a glass and drew an americano from the coffee machine. The fragrance of Guatemalan beans drifted through the air.
"All set! Time to wake Emily."
Carrying a glass of water, he walked carefully back to the bedroom.
She still hadn't fully surfaced from sleep, but the delicious smells tickling her nose and the sound of his movements made her eyelids flutter open.
"Breakfast is ready."
Emily squeezed her eyes shut and stretched.
"Really? I thought I smelled something wonderful… I'm sorry."
"Drink this water, and come to the table when you're ready."
"Okay!"
When she saw the spread he had prepared, she couldn't help but gasp in admiration.
"Oh my gosh! I usually skip breakfast, but this looks so good I can't resist. Did you really make all of this just now?"
Han Shin pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
"Enjoy it."
"I will! But next time I'll definitely cook breakfast for you."
"Hmm… if it ever comes to making breakfast, I think I'd better be the one doing it."
"Hey…! I can cook a delicious French breakfast too, you know."
"Don't the French just have bread and coffee?"
"Fine. I'll study cooking."
"I'm only teasing. I'll look forward to it."
"You should. And thank you for the meal, Manager!"
Emily picked up her fork.
"I hope it suits your taste. I tried avocado and caviar at a restaurant once—they go surprisingly well together."
"It's like a canapé."
"Exactly. Same idea."
"Mmmmm!! It's so good!"
"There's more caviar if you want extra. Have you had it often?"
"Caviar? Yes!"
"I see."
She eats caviar often…
He pointed with his chopsticks at the steaming, fluffy rice.
"For Koreans, rice is the staple. It pairs wonderfully with bacon or sausage."
"Manager! Give me those chopsticks too."
"Huh? Have you used them before?"
"No, never. But I want to use the same utensils as you."
"They're not as easy as they look…"
He handed her a pair of metal chopsticks.
Should I just leave her to it?
Was there anyone who was good with chopsticks from the very first try?
While Han Shin ate his rice, Emily flailed trying to pick up a single piece of bacon.
"Pride or no pride~"
"Aww, chopsticks are hard! So feed me!"
"Miss Emily, are you trying to act spoiled?"
"I don't care~ Ahhh~"
She opened her mouth wide.
"Just this once."
"Yes!"
"What do you want?"
She pointed at the bacon.
"Here—ah~~"
Emily snapped it up and chewed with a blissful expression.
"I meant to ask yesterday… is it all right if I ask something heavy first thing in the morning?"
"I'll give you an honest answer to anything."
"That name… Arnault. Is it connected to you, Miss Emily?"
"So even you are the same, Manager. You're curious about my background, aren't you?"
"If it's hard to talk about, you don't have to. We can learn about each other slowly."
"It's fine. The Arnault family. Strictly speaking I'm from a collateral line—I have absolutely nothing to do with the line of succession."
She set the chopsticks aside and stabbed at the vegetables with her fork.
"The fashion business, the fact that my name is oddly old-fashioned, even the fact that I'm still unmarried—it's all because of the strict family atmosphere."
"Hmm… I don't think it's old-fashioned at all. It's a beautiful name that suits you perfectly."
"Thank you. Actually, my middle name means 'doll.' Maybe that's why, until I became an adult, I lived almost like a nun in a convent. Or should I say a fragile princess doll locked in a tower? I knew nothing and lived the life the family elders wanted, without any meaning of my own."
"You've been through a lot. I never imagined stories like that still existed… I suppose that's what happens when the family is that kind of family."
"I thought everyone lived the same way. Then I went to university and found out that wasn't true at all."
"Of course. Universities are full of all kinds of people."
"After I graduated I thought I could finally live however I wanted—but they told me to join the family luxury business. In the end I couldn't stand the suffocation and escaped… like a bluebird, I suppose."
"But why escape all the way to a remote corner of England?"
"I decided to find my dream for the first time in a city that had nothing to do with my background. So I flew straight to England. London is glamorous, but it's a boring city, isn't it?"
"Is it? It's a city so busy you barely have time to watch football."
Han Shin popped a sausage into his mouth; Emily, her mouth dry, took a sip of coffee.
"That's just it. I had zero interest in football, but I decided to try something I'd never done before! It's a working-class sport, after all."
"So you went to a match?"
"Yes. I went to Stamford Bridge for fun, and back then I didn't even know what the FA Cup was. The opposing team just happened to be Sunderland. They were losing five-nil. I didn't know football was a sport where scores usually stay that low."
"Three goals is generally considered a high-scoring game."
"Anyway, there were quite a few away fans in red, and even when defeat was one hundred percent certain, not a single one left."
"Really? From the away end?"
"Yes. They stayed until the end, cheering the players until their throats were raw. I started wondering what that team had that inspired such passionate fans."
"So you came all the way out here on pure curiosity?"
"Yes, and it was rough. I'd always been treated well wherever I went, but here… how should I put it? It's a bit rough around the edges."
"I understand. When I first arrived I met some local fans and nearly got into a misunderstanding myself. And then?"
"Well… I bought a ticket for a home match, only to discover it wasn't even the EPL. The opposing team was a club I'd never heard of in my life. But the stands were packed solid. The roar and the singing were incredible."
"So you fell for the club's charm?"
"Once you experience your first match here, Manager, you'll understand right away. That it's worth staying in Sunderland for the rest of your life…"
"I'm glad I asked. It must have been awkward to talk about—thank you. I feel like I'm seeing you in a new light, Miss Emily."
"Not at all. After yesterday, this was exactly the right moment for an explanation! Perfect timing!"
Whether the chopsticks had finally been unsealed or the stress had simply gotten to her, she stuffed a greasy sausage into her mouth and chewed with gusto.
"Eat slowly. Slowly. You'll choke…"
"If I eat this lavishly every morning I'll get fat."
"Hahaha. I usually eat simply. Today I went all out on purpose."
"For me?"
"Of course."
"You're the best, Manager! But if I show up in the same clothes as yesterday people will look at me funny… Once you've finished eating, you can go on ahead."
"I can take you."
"You have that interview with the American network, and you're busy, Manager."
"I still have a little time, so I'll just sit here and watch you finish your meal."
"All right then."