Chapter 33

Whispers and sneers from around me pricked at my ears.

“Looks like he thinks third year classes are easy.”

“How cute. So cute.”

I’d expected reactions like this to some extent.

A freshman barging straight into a third year class was bound to stand out.

But whether they ignored me or mocked me, the only thing that mattered to me was listening to the lecture.

There was no rule saying a first year couldn’t take a third year class.

Letting the countless stares slide past me, I pulled a notebook out of my bag.

Then I picked up my pen and jotted down fragmented ideas about glass noodle tteokbokki that had come to me during the nutrition class.

The combination of a unique texture and spicy seasoning.

And even a special topping to go on top.

As I slowly sketched the image in my head, I found myself completely absorbed in the idea.

Before I knew it, I’d forgotten all about the seniors’ whispers and ridicule.

I was fully immersed in planning.

How much time had passed like that.

When I suddenly heard the kitchen door open.

A man slowly stepped inside.

Despite being middle aged, his sharp features stood out. He was dressed in a neat suit.

The atmosphere in the kitchen sank in an instant.

He was Baek Seungjin, the professor in charge of this class, a man renowned both domestically and internationally in the field of Korean cuisine.

He’d authored numerous cookbooks and was often called a master of Korean fusion cuisine through various broadcasts and lectures.

Among culinary students, his name was spoken with both respect and fear.

I too had studied Korean cuisine through books he’d written while I was overseas.

What kind of teaching would I receive.

A sense of anticipation rose.

Baek Seungjin set down his books and lecture notes, then slowly opened the attendance list.

As he calmly called out seniors’ names, he suddenly paused.

“Kang Chan? A first year.”

The classroom fell silent. I lifted my head and answered calmly.

“Yes. That’s right.”

“…”

Baek Seungjin looked at me with a subtle expression. Despite his gentle appearance, there was a sharp, keen glint in his eyes.

“Why is a first year in a third year classroom?”

At his question, everyone’s gaze snapped toward me. In the seniors’ eyes, clear mockery mixed with a hint of curiosity.

I smiled and replied.

“I’ve respected you for a long time, professor. If I ever got into this school, your class was the one I wanted to take first. I heard it was allowed to take third year classes, so I signed up right away.”

“Is that so. I appreciate it, but I don’t plan on going easy on you just because you’re a first year. You’ll be evaluated the same as the third year students. Are you confident?”

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Interesting.”

With a satisfied smile curling at his lips, Baek Seungjin resumed calling attendance. Each time a name was called, students raised their hands or answered quietly.

“Han Taepyeong.”

“…”

“Han Taepyeong?”

“…”

But his smooth roll call soon hit a snag.

No one raised a hand or answered for the name Han Taepyeong.

As an awkward silence settled, Baek Seungjin clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Late again on the first day.”

As if it were nothing new, everyone seated burst into laughter at once. He was probably a habitual latecomer.

Soon, the first Korean cuisine class began.

Baek Seungjin snapped the attendance book shut and smiled brightly.

“Alright, shall we start today’s first lesson?”

“On the first day?”

“Do third years really need orientation. Today’s dish is gujeolpan.”

The moment he finished speaking, groans erupted from all around.

“Gujeolpan?”

“For real?”

“Professor, gujeolpan on the first day?”

“Doesn’t that have tons of ingredients and take forever?”

At the students’ complaints, Baek Seungjin nodded as if amused.

“That’s right. It takes a lot of work and it’s finicky. That’s why it’s perfect for learning the aesthetics of Korean cuisine. More than anything, gujeolpan is all about hand skill and sincerity.”

He added one more thing.

“I want to see how much perseverance and patience you’ve got. You thought I’d go easy since it’s the first day. That’s a mistake.”

Rolling up his sleeves in earnest, Baek Seungjin stood in front of the prep counter.

“First, I’ll demonstrate.”

What stood out most on the neatly arranged counter was his knife.

It looked like it had been with him for many years. The handle was worn, but the blade itself was smooth and razor sharp.

For a chef, maintaining tools was no different from taking care of one’s own body.

Especially when a blade went dull or chipped, even good ingredients could end up shredded like rags.

“The first important thing is cutting ingredients evenly. If the sizes and thicknesses are all different, the cooking times vary, and the texture ends up off.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the knife began to move rhythmically.

The sharp blade sliced smoothly through the vegetables, lining up pieces of uniform thickness across the cutting board.

“The second is harmony of flavor. Each ingredient has its own taste and aroma. You need to understand those traits and cook them in proper balance so they come together.”

Lastly, as he transferred the finished ingredients onto a plate, he explained the presentation.

Garnish wasn’t just decoration. It was the core of gujeolpan.

Baek Seungjin repeatedly emphasized how important it was to arrange everything with balance in mind, considering color, texture, and shape.

The plate completed under his hands shone like a piece of art.

Fresh colors, meticulous arrangement, and an order that felt harmonious and beautiful at a glance.

Soft murmurs of admiration escaped from the seniors.

I swallowed my own amazement and stared at the plate.

Maybe it was because I’d always been deeply focused on Western cuisine.

I’d never realized gujeolpan demanded this level of technique.

Come to think of it, aside from popular Korean dishes, I hardly knew much about Korean cuisine.

‘This really is a third year class.’

For someone who’d thought there was nothing left to learn at school, this Korean cuisine class was a refreshing jolt.

The joy of learning was always thrilling.

After finishing his explanation, Baek Seungjin lifted his head.

“Now it’s your turn. Pair up in teams of two and complete a gujeolpan.”

The moment he finished speaking, the seniors quickly paired off.

They divided roles and chatted energetically as they got started.

I stood blankly in the center of the kitchen, looking around at the lively scene.

As expected.

Among all these people, there wasn’t a single person who looked like they wanted to team up with me.

I hadn’t expected the first class to be in pairs. What was I supposed to do now.

As I stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

Creak.

The kitchen door opened and someone appeared.

A tall man with short hair that exposed his forehead clearly, and a friendly looking face.

He closed the door calmly and glanced around.

At that moment, Baek Seungjin, who was standing off to the side, frowned and spoke in a low voice.

“Han Taepyeong. Do you know what time it is. You never show up on time.”

“Sorry.”

Han Taepyeong shrugged and gave a rough bow.

“Don’t disrupt the others. Get inside already.”

“Yes.”

After catching up on what was going on, Han Taepyeong looked around, then slowly walked over to me.

“Hey.”

“…Hello.”

“Don’t think I’ve seen you before. You got a partner. If not, wanna work with me?”

“Would that be okay?”

“I don’t mind. But why are you being so polite?”

“Ah… well. I’m a first year. I’m Kang Chan, a freshman.”

“What. A first year?”

Only then did he seem to grasp the situation. He swept his gaze around once, then let out a chuckle.

“Ah, now I get it. I was wondering why everyone was acting weird. I don’t really care who my partner is. Let’s do it together.”

“That works for me.”

Han Taepyeong casually shrugged and held out his hand.

“Guess I never introduced myself. I’m Han Taepyeong. I’m twenty four. I went to the army and came back to school. Just call me hyung.”

“Okay, hyung.”

I grinned and shook his hand.

Han Taepyeong gave our joined hands a light shake, then asked with an easygoing expression.

“By the way, if you’re a first year, this must be your first time seeing not just third year classes but our school’s practical class atmosphere too, right?”

“Yeah. It feels unfamiliar.”

“Then I’ll fill you in on a few things.”

His attitude was unexpected.

Unlike the other seniors who’d shown open hostility the moment I walked in, he seemed generous and relaxed.

As we organized the prep station together, Han Taepyeong spoke calmly.

“Do you know Professor Baek’s grading standards?”

“No. What are they like?”

“Professor Baek lives and breathes the basics. He hates flashy plating or showing off techniques. He values food that brings out the ingredient’s natural flavor above all else.”

He explained everything step by step, sharing what I needed to know. There was no sense of pretense or exaggerated kindness.

I liked that.

Naturally, we divided up the roles.

Gujeolpan was a dish where cutting and prepping the ingredients mattered more than anything.

For my sake as a freshman, Han Taepyeong took the lead and laid out the roles.

“The ingredients need to be pre cut, so you handle the slicing. I’ll make the pancakes. That part’s pretty tricky.”

“Is making the pancakes hard?”

“Of course. The key is making them thin enough for light to shine through. They tear easily and burn fast, so it’s not an easy job for a freshman.”

As someone used to Western dishes like pasta and risotto, gujeolpan felt unfamiliar.

Since it was my first time making it, I was worried, but with Han Taepyeong dividing the roles so cleanly, I felt more at ease.

As we got started, Han Taepyeong picked up the knife first.

“Alright, I’ll show you once. About this thick. Cutting evenly is really important. Watch closely.”

Shedding his relaxed demeanor, he focused.

His hands were surprisingly precise and accurate.

Tap, thud, tap.

The rhythmic sound of the knife echoed through the kitchen.

The ingredients were cut cleanly, as if they already knew the exact size and thickness they were meant to be.

Steady speed, precise control, sharp accuracy.

All of it came together like music.

I watched his hands intently.

Once you reach a certain level, you can tell everything just by watching someone cut.

At a glance, I could tell Han Taepyeong was quite skilled.

He finished prepping and placed the neatly sliced ingredients in front of me.

“You don’t have to match me exactly, but try to follow it as closely as you can. The other ingredients are similar, but this one is….”

He continued explaining, clearly intending to teach me the basics step by step as a freshman.

I appreciated his kindness, but our team had already started later than the others.

Which meant our time was limited and tight.

Building fundamentals was important, but within a time limit, efficiency came first.

I might not have known Korean cuisine as deeply as other styles because I’d focused on Western cooking in the past.

But when it came to knife work, I was already at a level where I could do it with my eyes closed.

I looked at Han Taepyeong quietly, then asked casually.

“Uh, hyung. Would it be okay if I tried doing it myself this time?”

At my question, a subtle smile appeared on his face.