A Feast at Cheonghak
"Aigoo, I really don't know if we even belong in a place like this."
Mother fussed with her clothes, her expression tight and awkward, as if her hands couldn't quite settle.
"Mom. Don't be so nervous. We're just here to eat."
"Aigoo, I've never even had a meal in Gangnam in my life, you know. And this isn't just any restaurant — it looks this expensive."
We stepped out of the taxi, and the restaurant before us gleamed exactly the way a Michelin two-star ought to, starting from the facade itself.
Well, this is Cheongdam-dong. Everything around here would look this flashy anyway.
Jeonghwan, standing beside Mother, smoothed his clothes a few more times before turning to me.
"Hyung. How much does this place usually cost?"
"Here? I looked it up online. Dinner's normally four hundred thousand won."
"F-four hundred thousand?! Wait — is it really okay to eat something that expensive for free?"
"They invited us themselves. They said they really wanted us here. Stop fussing and let's go in."
The signboard for Cheonghak had been written out in rather handsome calligraphy.
The lettering's nice. The wood, though — that's a little disappointing.
Now that I was back in this line of work, I found myself noticing things like that whether I wanted to or not.
A woman who looked like restaurant staff stepped into our path at the door.
"Welcome to Cheonghak. Do you have a reservation?"
"Yes. Kang Cheolwoo."
She spoke briefly into a radio, then her face brightened as she gestured us inside.
"Mr. Kang Cheolwoo. Your reservation has been confirmed. I'll show you to the second floor."
Wow...
Not a single thing out of place. I'd heard that from Michelin two stars onward it wasn't just the food — the staff's service had to be flawless as well. Looking at her, I believed it.
The interior had been given just as much care. From the outside it was clearly a modern building, but once you stepped through the door the whole place was thoroughly, unapologetically Korean. From the furnishings to the staff uniforms, you could feel the attention paid to every last detail.
So this is what a Michelin two-star looks like.
And I wasn't the only one stunned by what we saw.
"Mom, look at that. Wow, this is seriously something else. Wait — is it really okay for us to eat here?"
"I know. Aigoo, it's so fancy I don't even know if I'll be able to swallow the food."
We followed the staff member to a choice table, a prime spot with the view beyond the windows laid out clear as day.
"Please wait just a moment."
She disappeared somewhere, and a moment later a familiar face emerged from the kitchen.
"Master Kang!"
"Ahahaha... yes."
At the word Master, both Mother and Jeonghwan snapped their gazes toward me. A man who looked a good ten years older than I was — and who was clearly the owner-chef of this place — had just addressed me that way. Of course they would stare.
This is more awkward than I expected...
Whether he knew how I felt or not, the chef kept right on calling me Master.
"Master. Are these your mother and younger brother?"
"Ah, yes. Mom, this is Chef Lee Jin-seong, the owner-chef of this restaurant."
Mother greeted him a little flustered, her hands not quite knowing where to go.
"Ah, um... thank you so much for inviting us today. It's my first time somewhere like this... I put on the nicest clothes I have at home, but I don't know if it matches the dress code, or whatever that is..."
Jin-seong smiled, warm and easy.
"Not at all, ma'am. You look absolutely beautiful."
At being called beautiful, Mother's tension eased a fraction, and she began to smile.
"Beautiful...? Ohoho... thank you."
He turned next to Jeonghwan.
"And this must be your younger brother. Looking at the haircut — you're a soldier?"
Jeonghwan nodded with an awkward smile.
"Yes, that's right. Thank you for having us today."
"Don't you worry. I'll make sure you eat the best food of your life before you go back from leave."
Before heading into the kitchen, Jin-seong looked at me with a face full of quiet confidence.
"Master. Today I'll serve you the very finest cooking I'm capable of."
"Ahahaha... yes. I'm looking forward to it."
And before long, the dishes began to arrive.
"I'll present the first course. This dish is..."
True to a Michelin two-star, the staff explained exactly what we were being served as they set each plate down.
So meticulous.
The first course was sea urchin roe served atop a gamtae chip — a paper-thin, shatteringly crisp sheet of toasted green laver.
Gamtae chips with sea urchin?
Never mind the sea urchin. I'd barely ever even eaten gamtae chips. Honestly, until I took that first bite, I wasn't expecting all that much. Michelin two-star or not, I figured food was food — it all ended up in the same place.
Then I put that sea urchin on a gamtae chip in my mouth, and the prejudice shattered completely.
"Whoa..."
Just awe. There was nothing else to call it. It felt as if the entire ocean had been folded into a single bite.
Can flavor even be this rich...?
I was marveling at a world of taste I had never known existed. Then, suddenly, I worried about Mother. It was extraordinary to me — but I'd heard that when you take older folks to places like this, they often come away saying it didn't taste like much of anything.
Mother's reaction, though, was no different from mine. No — she reacted even more fiercely.
"My goodness... how is this so delicious? It doesn't even look like they put much in it..."
Her face was the face of someone genuinely undone by food. And it was the same for Jeonghwan. Military meals may have gotten better these days, but it was still the military. You couldn't compare it to eating out. And this was a Michelin two-star. He took one bite and looked as if he might cry.
Every dish that followed was just as moving. A soup built on white kimchi. Aged yellowtail with caviar. Grilled deodeok root with foie gras. And it wasn't only the food — wine pairings arrived alongside each course, chosen to sit beside it.
What was there to say about the taste. Every plate that came out was a crucible of feeling. It wasn't something you could reduce to "the umami is good" or "the seasoning is well-balanced." In a word, the flavors were rich.
A true artisan really is on another level...
Jeonghwan spoke with a look of sudden, grim resolve.
"Hyung... I really need to make a lot of money..."
"Why, all of a sudden."
He pointed at the sous-vide Hanwoo short ribs, still half remaining on the plate.
"It'd be too sad if I only got to eat this once! Once I make a lot of money, I'm coming here every week. For real."
"That's right. And when you do, Jeonghwan, bring your mother along too."
Jeonghwan nodded, laughing.
"Got it. Don't worry! I'll definitely bring you once a week!"
The mains came to an end, and the desserts began. Dessert wasn't a single plate, either — it arrived in no fewer than three rounds. Some Michelin restaurants, I'd heard, left you still hungry. Cheonghak, at least, served enough to make your stomach genuinely threaten to burst.
By the last dessert — soy sauce ice cream — I really did think I might explode. And yet it was so good I felt I had no choice but to finish every last spoonful.
How did they even pull off sweet-and-salty like this with soy sauce and ice cream...?
When you make things, you need inspiration. I felt as if I'd walked out of here with quite a bit of it.
Once the meal was over, Chef Lee Jin-seong came out of the kitchen again and looked at me.
"Master Kang. How was the food?"
I shot him a thumbs-up.
"It was truly the best. Honestly — can I say this? I feel a little sorry saying it with my mother sitting right here, but it was the most delicious food I've ever eaten in my life."
Mother looked faintly wounded for a moment, then nodded.
"I feel the same. It was the most delicious food I've ever eaten in my life, too. Thank you so much, Chef."
"Same here!"
The chef answered with a satisfied smile.
"Hahaha. I'm even more grateful that you all enjoyed it so much. I truly owe Master Kang a great deal. If it weren't for you, I never would have made it out of that slump."
Mother looked at me with an expression that said she wasn't quite sure she believed it, then turned back to the chef.
"Wait — our Cheolwoo is that good? I heard something about him opening a workshop..."
"The way I see it, he may well be the finest artisan in all of Korea."
I nearly laughed.
Korea? Try the world...
Even on Olympus, there hadn't been a single god who could make things better than I could. There was no way a human on this Earth could. This wasn't arrogance. It was confidence born from the sheer length of time I had actually lived through.
I stood and asked him,
"Are you getting good use out of the knife?"
He shot me a thumbs-up right back.
"Yes. It's truly the best. Honestly, it feels even better than before. Working with this knife, my cooking efficiency feels like it's doubled. Thank you so much."
He bowed his head once more.
"That's a relief, then. Ah — and Chef. I'll be sending you a gift as well."
"A gift?"
"I can hardly just walk away after being treated to a meal this good."
It had been so long since I'd seen my family this happy. I couldn't just let it go.
A cutting board should be enough, I suppose.
But the chef seemed to be on the same wavelength. He spoke a little shyly, almost sidling up to the request.
"Um, well... actually, I've been meaning to get a new cutting board lately..."
I laughed.
"Haha. Looks like we're of one mind. Look forward to it."
A cutting board would take me two hours, easy. But after a meal like this, I ought to put a little extra care into it. I'd spend about three hours and send him a perfect one.
That really was delicious.
Even the next day, coming into work for my part-time job, that meal kept floating through my head.
Taeseok, working beside me, glanced over.
"Cheolwoo. Something going on? Why do you keep staring at the sky. And wait — how are you still welding that well while you're at it."
"I went to a Michelin restaurant for the first time yesterday. It was really something. I'd never eaten anything like that in my life."
Taeseok's face went slack with surprise.
"Michelin? Wait, isn't that insanely hard to get a reservation at? How'd you book it?"
"Ah... a friend of mine made the reservation for me."
"Yeah? Anyway, I'm jealous. Aigoo, I want to eat at a place like that someday too."
Then, suddenly, the boss came into the factory, calling for me in an urgent voice.
"Cheo— Cheolwoo! Where's Cheolwoo!"
I stood and raised my hand.
"Boss. I'm right here."
Boss Han grabbed hold of me and begged in a voice that was almost desperate.
"Cheolwoo... could you come in full-time this week?"
"What? I have class..."
He practically grovelled and asked again.
"Something really urgent came in. Please. I'm begging you. This is absolutely impossible without you."
"N-no. Even so..."
No matter how urgent the part-time job was, it couldn't take priority over school. The moment I was about to refuse, Boss Han frantically held up two fingers — then switched to three.
"I'll pay you double the daily wage... no, triple!"
School? What's a day or two of skipped classes.
This week's lectures weren't particularly important anyway. Missing a day or so wouldn't have much effect on my grades.
"Understood. If the company's in a bind, I don't have much choice."
Boss Han kept bowing his head, thanking me over and over.
"Thank you so much! Cheolwoo! Really, thank you! You just saved us!"
"But what's the job that's got you like this? Didn't we already push through almost all of this month's orders?"
"Here's the thing. The Seoyun University research lab said their vacuum chamber equipment got damaged, and they sent in a repair request."
"A research lab sent a repair request to us?"
"Yeah. The stuff you've been welding has been getting talked about lately, so the lab asked us in a hurry. But Cheolwoo... think you can do it? They said they just need the form restored, at least."
A vacuum chamber?
I didn't know exactly what kind of machine it was. Building one from scratch wouldn't be easy — but repairing something that had been damaged? That was the thing I did best.
Before I could even answer, Taeseok slung an arm around my shoulder.
"Boss, don't you worry. You know who Cheolwoo is. He's the god of welding. A god. Don't worry about a thing."
I nodded at that and answered.
"I don't know about being the god of welding. But I'll give it a shot."