Chapter 96
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: Grand Chef Korea - American Chef and Cuban Sandwich
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1.
"…………."
The conference room, now empty with just the two of us. The atmosphere between us was incredibly stiff.
You know those people? The ones who have a blast hanging out if there's a mutual friend connecting you, but get all awkward the moment that friend isn't around.
Han Chaeyun was like that for me. If Yurin had been here, or even Lee Seohwa, the air wouldn't have felt this heavy.
'Especially since she declared herself my rival last time...'
She probably never dreamed we'd end up on the same team like this.
"…Shall we decide on a menu?"
Han Chaeyun glanced at me cautiously before speaking up.
"Sure. Got any ideas in mind?"
She shook her head at my question.
"I've only seen food trucks in videos. Never actually used one myself, so I have no clue what to sell."
"Same here."
Truth be told, food trucks weren't something you ran into every day. You saw them at local festivals, sure, but I never had the leisure to go to those.
"But didn't you ever grab something from a street cart as a kid? Like fish-shaped buns, oden, chicken skewers. Or tteokbokki."
"No. My parents said I wasn't allowed to eat food from places like that."
"Ah, got it. That makes it tricky to explain the vibe, then. Anyway, noted."
"Have you decided on a menu, unnie?"
I nodded with a bright smile. Just as I was about to speak, Chaeyun reached out and cut me off.
"Hold on. Before we continue the meeting… I have a proposal."
"What is it?"
"Could you talk to me casually again?"
"Why?"
"Just… talking formally feels awkward. It's not like before. Back then it was comfortable, but now it feels off."
"Isn't that because you declared yourself my rival?"
She clamped her mouth shut. Her face flushed redder by the second, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Fine. If that's what you want, I'll go back to casual speech. But just so there's no misunderstanding—this time I used casual because you were being rude."
"I-I was rude at first. I was brimming with confidence back then… and full of complaints about everything… If I offended you, I apologize now."
"Nah. It didn't bother me much, honestly. I thought it was kinda cute."
"…Thanks for looking past my rude past self."
I flashed a grin and clapped my hands. If we kept chatting like this, we'd never get anywhere.
"Alright, back to the meeting. I asked if you had any menu ideas, right?"
"Yeah."
"Ever seen that movie American Chef?"
Chaeyun tilted her head. Must've seemed like a random question.
"No. First I'm hearing of it. But why bring up a movie all of a sudden?"
"There's a scene where they make a Cuban sandwich. What if we tried that?"
"…A Cuban sandwich? What's that?"
"Better if you see it yourself. Let's watch the movie first."
Conveniently, the Grand Chef Korea dorm had an audiovisual room. No idea why, but it was there to use.
"Here it is."
Luckily, the American Chef Blu-ray was stocked. I popped it into the player and sank into a plush chair.
"Feels empty without snacks. Want me to whip up some caramel popcorn?"
I leaned toward Chaeyun beside me.
"…No thanks."
I chuckled at her refusal and turned back to the screen.
The plot was simple: a chef drops everything to cross America in a food truck, selling grub along the way.
Chaeyun laughed at parts, gasped in awe at others. Especially the father-son cooking scene—she watched with envious eyes.
"What'd you think?"
As the end credits rolled, I stood, flicked on the lights. In the glow, I noticed her eyes faintly red.
"…It's amazing. Such a great movie…."
"Not the movie—the Cuban sandwich."
"Oh."
Chaeyun's face turned beet red. She cupped her cheeks and spoke.
"Looked delicious. Prep takes time, but once that's done, it seems quick to finish in the truck."
"Great. So, Cuban sandwich it is for our food truck menu?"
"One worry: will it suit Korean tastes? The ingredients looked pretty exotic."
"If we were opening a permanent shop, yeah, we'd avoid unfamiliar flavors to build regulars. But this is a food truck. Know what its strength is?"
She pondered, then shook her head.
"Not really. What?"
"Mobility. We can roam freely. Exotic taste? So what? We're not stuck in one spot."
"Ah…."
"And crucially, if it tastes good, that's all that matters, right? Skip anything Koreans might hate."
"True."
Our truck was more of an event gimmick anyway. A unique flavor could be a winning strategy.
"Alright, menu's set. Let's make some now. Each make one, taste-test. Like a showdown."
Chaeyun's eyes widened at my words. She clenched her fist, suddenly fired up.
"You're on. This time, I'll win…!"
"Good luck."
We headed straight to the kitchen. Other teams were still brainstorming recipes—no one else around.
"Let's start."
We split the counter and got to work. First, preheated the oven to 200 degrees for later.
The star of a Cuban sandwich is the meat. Time to marinate it.
Into a big bowl: finely chopped cilantro, garlic, mint. Grated orange zest with oregano and cumin.
Then squeezed oranges and limes by hand.
"Gasp…!"
Chaeyun jumped beside me.
"What?"
I tossed the spent limes and oranges in the trash. She glanced, shook her head.
"Oh, nothing."
Drowned it in olive oil, seasoned with salt and pepper. Mojo sauce complete. Tasted different from the original, though.
'I loaded up on garlic on purpose.'
That amps the zing, mellowing other spices.
Blended the sauce smooth, slathered it on pork shoulder.
Into the preheated oven at 260 degrees for 20 minutes.
'A day to marinate would be better, but we need to taste now.'
While it baked, prepped bread. Movie used baguette, so soft baguette it was.
'Homemade would be ideal, but not today.'
We'd tweak later. Focus: finish.
Sliced ends off the baguette—prevents tough edges when toasted.
That wrapped immediate prep. Assembly after meat.
"Coming along?"
With time to spare, I checked on diligently working Chaeyun.
"Not easy…."
She sighed gloomily but kept going. Her passion for cooking was genuine.
Ding—
Oven beeped. I rushed over, pulled the meat. Rested 5 minutes, then onto the board.
Slice—
Blade through center: pink juices along the grain. Final sear in the pan later.
'Time to wrap it up.'
Melted butter in pan, toasted baguette both sides crisp. Set aside.
Layered prosciutto ham and oven-roasted mojo pork, seared golden.
Topped with two slices each Swiss and Emmental cheese. Like a cheeseburger stack.
One baguette half piled high, thin-sliced dill pickles added. Other: thin Dijon mustard spread.
Zesty yet smooth, deep flavor.
Assembled, into panini press. Iron pressed: cheese melted, surface grill-marked.
"Done."
Pulled it out—ready to eat.
"Already?"
Chaeyun startled. Hers was nowhere near done.
"No clue when mine'll be ready. Mojo pork is so unfamiliar…."
"Learned it from the movie too. Not everyday meat. If stuck, make it your way."
"My way?"
"Yeah. 'The most personal is the most creative,' right? No need to copy the movie exactly."
I'd followed it but added my twist.
"Wanna taste mine first? Best hot."
"Sure."
I smiled, handed her a Cuban sandwich. She took a big bite.
Crunch munch—
"How's the taste?"
Her eyes widened. Swallowed, beamed.
"Delicious."
Highest praise.