God of Cooking

Norris thought of what she meant by that but just sighed as if he had nothing to say.

Although she beat around the bush, her point was simple and clear. Min-joon and Kaya didn’t come to this competition to win but to shake this contest itself.

In other words, they didn’t participate to win, but to throw down the gauntlet to the contest itself, the pride of France as well as France itself. Only then did Norris realize why the two didn’t seem anxious to win the contest.

‘They were not so concerned about the cooking scores we gave them.’

Of course, it was not that they didn’t care about their scores at all, but what really mattered to them was whether they could overcome the French men’s prejudices and standards.

If that was the case, what Norris could do for now was just see if they could create a dish fitting their ambition or a dish that could draw the admiration of the French without currying favor with them.

‘It’s not going to be easy,’ Norris thought.

Even if somebody asked him for such a dish, he wasn’t confident he could make such a dish after only six hours of thinking, although he had lived as a chef all his life in France. Or it would be difficult for a chef who had cooked all his life. If it was an easy job, the chefs in France would be willing to make the dish that overcame the limits of France.

Of course, there were some who didn’t even think about such a dish because they didn’t have the courage or will to take up the challenge. However, if somebody were a chef, if somebody had a romance about cooking in his or her mind, they could not help trying to make the dish that overcame the barriers of French cuisine. Just as people could not eat the same dishes all the time, a chef also couldn’t cook the same dishes over and over again. It was the wish of many French chefs who wanted to somehow get rid of the bondage of the French cuisine stuck in the past.

How many chefs could get out of it? It was hard to say there were none, but nobody could genuinely break that barrier until now.

‘Maybe the two can...’

Since it was a barrier that could not be broken from the inside, the two outside would easily break it. Even though he thought it was his wishful thinking, Norris couldn’t ignore it completely. Kaya and Min-joon were not better than those who had tried to break down the barrier before. But the two had something that he could not express in terms of cooking skills.

How could he express it? Inspiration? No, every chef had it. Talent? But it was too inclusive.

“Their viewpoint of cooking must be different,” Norris muttered to himself quietly.

“Pardon? What did you just say?” asked Min-joon.

“Oh no, just stay focused on what you’re doing,” Norris hastily quipped in an embarrassed voice. Then he reflected on what he had just inadvertently said. Their viewpoint? Although he used that expression, he felt there was some truth in it. Watching the two cooking, he could really feel that they were completely different from other typical chefs.

It wasn’t a matter of one’s skill or birthplace, nor was it a matter of talent. It was literally something else. It was a matter of attitude or viewpoint, something that chefs could have if they tried to be conscious of it, but they didn’t.

‘They don’t think of cooking simply as cooking.’

Of course, there were some chefs who read something on ingredients and didn’t overlook anything in terms of cooking method and plating, so as to make customers feel the plates with their dishes were a work of art. Norris didn’t think they were any better than those chefs interested in making dishes delicious. But he was also well aware that when those who valued taste preserved the history of cuisine that had been passed down so far, the so-called artistic chefs were also creating a new history in the annals of cuisine. That was quite interesting in that they looked at the future in terms of art, but looked back at the past in terms of taste.

But what Kaya and Min-joon had been doing wasn’t just art. It was politics and it was a war to them. It was like a bomb that destroyed the interests of people entangled in taste with overwhelming novelty.

And now, they began to make the bomb.

“You are done vacuum packing properly, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What about the seasoning?”

“I did it with salt and pepper.”

“You shouldn’t sprinkle too much pepper. If you spray too much, the pepper scent might be too strong beyond removing the fishy smell.”

“I don’t make such a mistake. Don’t worry.”

Min-joon answered with a relaxed voice then put the chicken breast vacuum-packed in a zipper bag into the sous vide machine. Sous vide cooking was a molecular dish that required cooking for a long time in the temperature which was maintained low so that anybody who put their hand in it could not get burned. Min-joon believed that sous vide was the most perfect way to bring out the taste of chicken breast. Actually, it was because cooking was almost math.

The time spent in cooking never betrayed the chef. The sous vide method that would take almost 72 hours to cook was the perfect example of this. Aside from the costly price of the sous vide machine, most high-end restaurants were reluctant to use this method because of the long cooking time, but Min-joon thought the sous vide was perfect for this cooking mission.

In particular, the chicken breast was one of the parts that chefs could cook perfectly thanks to the benefits of the cooking method of sous vide because chicken breasts cooked through sous vide were softer than even chicken legs, so much so that it wiped out people’s perception that chicken breasts tasted stiff.

With 72 hours to go, Min-joon and Kaya were not busy now because all they had to do for now was to prepare ingredients that would take some time to cook. And there were only four that they were preparing now—aging braised ribs or beef bourguignon in a seasoning sauce, making broth with chicken, beef, and pork as the base, making chicken breast through sous vide, and finally, making jam and jelly to use for deep-fried sea bass.

The most impressive of them was the broth. Watching Min-joon boil water in a pot that was too large for the competition, Norris and Bastien asked, embarrassed, “Min-joon, aren’t you wasting ingredients too much? It seems like you are making too much broth, given that only judges will try it. Don’t you think so?”

“Well, I can’t help it. I can bring out a richer taste of broth when I put lots of ingredients here and boil them.”

“I know that, but...”

At that moment, Bastien wanted to ask if it was absolutely for him to do so but didn’t because the judges were not supposed to interfere with the participants no matter how they cooked.

Min-joon was also determined to do things in his own way. That was something he learned from Mangil Hong and other chefs. In other words, the longer the chef boiled the ingredients, the richer the taste they could bring out. So, Min-joon understood why Norris and Bastien questioned the way he boiled in such a large pot. To the French people, soup dishes were for the poor because they could eat them by making big dishes with fewer ingredients, unless they added high-quality wine. So much so that when a guest was served a soup dish, the guest looked at the host with a pitiful expression. It was unlikely that the judges had a good knowledge of soup dishes that they had looked down on until now.

‘Even so, this is a bit shocking to me,’ Min-joon thought.

Actually, Min-joon thought Norris and Bastien would understand why he brewed the broth so much. Of course, they both understood because they knew that making large amounts of broth at once made the taste of the broth richer. However, since this was not a soup dish, they might not read much on the difference between the two.

Given that open-minded and progressive judges like Norris and Bastien felt like that, it was needless to think about how ordinary Frenchmen would think of their dish. That was why Min-joon thought his challenge this time was worthwhile. And it was fun that they could shock the Frenchmen with a dish that they had never imagined. And that would be the most thrilling moment for him.

What if he reflected the depth of Korean food, the splendor of Chinese food, and the elegance of Japanese food in the full meal on one table? Besides, he could apply the techniques of molecular cooking and Western-style cooking methods to his dishes. Some might say it was a half-baked dish, but he believed that he could project the future of the modern gastronomic world in that full meal on one table.

“They won’t help but accept us in France.”

Min-joon thought his dish would be so novel and fresh that the French men would not help but accept it. Apart from their prejudice and preferences, he was confident of persuading them to like his dish in this contest because Kaya was with him now, who would gain reputation and fame that no other chef in the world could match at her age.

They didn’t worry about the foregone conclusion that they would have a rosy future, but the question was when they could start to shine. Of course, some might say that they had been shining enough, but Min-joon could not be satisfied. Kaya wasn’t the one who could end up shining like a star. She wasn’t even the moon. She was the sun.

‘I’ll make you like that, Kaya.’

He wanted to see her fully develop her talent as soon as possible. Maybe he came back because he wanted to watch her cook right by her side.

So he regarded the contest as an opportunity to show himself and her to the chefs all around the world. They trod on the red carpet enough. Now it was time for them to stand in front of the podium and receive a bouquet and a trophy.

Min-joon’s eyes glared. He began to focus more on cooking.

While boiling water for the broth, he started preparing jelly, the very jelly he made with Jesse when he first came to America. It was the dish that marked his new beginning in the United States. In that respect, the jelly he was preparing marked his new beginning in France.

When he thought so, he naturally smiled.

What he was making now was the same way he did with Jesse. He didn’t use gelatin or agar powder, but the pectin contained in fruit peels. What he used for that purpose were strawberries and tangerines. One made with only tangerines and one made with both strawberries and tangerines. After making them, he would serve it with deep-fried sea bass before deciding to choose the better one of the two.

“It’s a very classic way. Nowadays, they usually use agar or gelatin.”

“You won’t probably be able to imagine how novel and bold a dish I can make even after using this classic way.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to it. I can’t really think that the dish you are making now is boring.”

Min-joon smiled at Norris silently. He didn’t quench Norris’s curiosity, though.

Now the broth was boiling. The jelly and jam were hardened, and the seasoning permeated the flesh of the ribs. Two days passed like that.

A cart full of weed seeds tilted to one side.