Chapter 43

Na Seyoung said she would taste the food Kang Chan had made and picked up a spoon.

Without much expectation, she scooped a spoonful of Chodang soft tofu and put it in her mouth.

Gulp.

In that instant her eyes trembled violently.

The tofu was soft as if it had been whipped like meringue.

Yet within that softness, the firm inner texture remained intact as it moved across her tongue.

Softness and firmness coexisted perfectly.

And because the broth was clear, it could easily have tasted bland.

But instead it carried a deep richness like slowly simmered bone broth.

‘Amazing.’

Still unable to believe it, she took a bite of the gondre rice next.

Crunch.

“!”

Usually vegetables lose half of their crisp texture after being steamed or stir fried.

And when they’re cooked with rice, their natural chewiness tends to fade even more.

But Kang Chan’s gondre rice was different.

The texture of the gondre greens remained vividly alive.

At that moment Na Seyoung’s eyes reddened.

Kang Chan’s rice and soup reminded her of her grandmother’s cooking.

‘…How does this taste exist?’

Na Seyoung was different from most students at this school.

Most of them had started cooking from a young age.

She, however, only began dreaming of becoming a chef three years ago.

Since childhood she had trained as a taekwondo athlete.

But an unexpected serious injury forced her to give up that dream.

During the time she wandered without direction.

The one who made her look at her life again was her grandmother.

Because her parents were busy, Na Seyoung had grown up mostly in her grandmother’s care.

To others she might have seemed like an ordinary grandmother.

But to Na Seyoung she was everything.

Then one day her grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

From that day on, her grandmother began asking for the same dish every day.

“Seyoung. I want gamja ongshimi. I want gamja ongshimi.”

Because her grandmother was from Gangwon Province, Na Seyoung had grown up eating mild flavored food.

Among those dishes, her favorite had always been gamja ongshimi.

On rainy days a pot of perilla seed gamja ongshimi would bubble on the stove.

A warm bowl filled with chewy potato dumplings.

Whenever she returned from school, her grandmother was always in the kitchen kneading dough for ongshimi.

The gamja ongshimi made with her grandmother’s hands was the most delicious food in the world to Na Seyoung.

She tried to recreate the taste from her childhood memories and began making the dish for her grandmother.

But for someone who had only done sports her whole life, cooking was not easy.

Her hands ached.

Her eyes burned from ingredients.

Still she practiced every single day.

Sometimes her grandmother would briefly regain clarity and quietly offer advice.

“Add the perilla seeds at the end. Don’t boil it too long.”

Those small tips passed down from her grandmother slowly accumulated.

And one day she finally made perfect perilla seed gamja ongshimi.

When her grandmother tasted it, tears filled her eyes.

“Our Seyoung has grown up.”

It was a quiet compliment.

But it held deeper meaning.

Words that gripped her heart firmly.

From that moment.

Cooking slowly became enjoyable.

At first she cooked only for her grandmother.

But gradually she began to realize the warmth that cooking could bring.

Na Seyoung swallowed the tears rising in her throat as she looked at Kang Chan’s dishes.

Back then she could eat her grandmother’s cooking whenever she wanted.

So she never fully realized how precious it was.

But now her grandmother had become like a child again.

She could no longer taste her grandmother’s food the way she once did.

She had lived believing she would never taste that flavor again.

Yet somehow she felt that taste in Kang Chan’s cooking.

Na Seyoung slowly set the spoon down.

Then she quietly looked at Kang Chan.

She hadn’t chosen him expecting anything from the beginning.

At first she simply reached out because his situation reminded her of her own past.

After that her goal was just to assign him simple dishes so he could complete them without mistakes.

But the result before her was completely unexpected.

A regional dish recreated almost perfectly.

Only then did she realize.

Kang Chan wasn’t attending third year classes for no reason.

“…Did you grow up in Gangwon Province?”

The question slipped out before she realized it.

Kang Chan lightly shook his head.

“No.”

“Then maybe your parents or grandparents are from Gangwon?”

“No, not that either.”

“Then how did you even think of making this?”

Na Seyoung’s brows drew together slightly.

This wasn’t a flavor that could appear just by following a recipe.

“Ah, that’s…”

Kang Chan paused while wiping the counter, looking thoughtful.

Then he spoke naturally.

“I have a childhood friend. I tried it at her grandmother’s house once.”

“A childhood friend?”

“Yeah. We’ve been friends since elementary school. Her grandmother lives in Sokcho so I used to visit during vacations.”

He glanced at the gondre rice on the counter as he continued.

“Today that memory suddenly came back to me. So I tried making it.”

Na Seyoung stared at him blankly.

A dish made only from vague memories had reached this level of completion.

“…So you’re saying you remembered the flavor just from eating it a few times and recreated it?”

Kang Chan shrugged casually.

“I’m not sure if it’s exact, but I tried to make it as similar as possible.”

His tone was calm.

But Na Seyoung couldn’t help admiring him.

This was pure instinct.

Her gaze shifted to another dish on the counter.

Tteokbokki.

Smooth rice cakes shining with sauce.

A faint gloss of chili oil floated over the red broth.

The sauce had reduced just enough to coat the rice cakes perfectly.

Just looking at it made her mouth water.

She hadn’t tasted it yet.

But she could already sense it wouldn’t be ordinary.

At first she had hoped they would simply avoid the lowest grade.

Now it seemed she needed to reconsider that thought.

‘I didn’t expect anything and just assigned it to him… but he produced this kind of result.’

At that moment a voice echoed from one side of the kitchen.

“Alright. Start finishing up.”

At Baek Seungjin’s words, Kang Chan calmly cleaned the counter.

“Shall we wrap up?”

“…Yeah.”

A faint smile spread across her lips.

‘Maybe we can actually expect a good grade this time.’

* * *

Baek Seungjin walked slowly across the practice kitchen with his hands behind his back.

Each team’s dishes were displayed across the counters.

His sharp yet careful gaze quietly examined each plate.

The students swallowed nervously while waiting for his evaluation.

After walking around the entire room and examining every team’s dishes, he quietly exhaled.

Somehow he felt a bit disappointed.

These days many young chefs focused on creating valuable food using unique and luxurious ingredients.

That itself wasn’t wrong.

He wasn’t someone who rejected new attempts.

But what Baek Seungjin valued wasn’t flashy plating or rare ingredients.

The principle he had held throughout his life as a chef.

The thing he valued most was the warmth and memories food could convey.

Of course the taste had to be good.

Some might call it the outdated sentiment of a professor nearing retirement.

But perfect flavor and emotional impact were two completely different things.

Yet the themes chosen by students today were almost identical.

Most had chosen royal cuisine or fusion cuisine.

It was understandable.

Royal cuisine represented tradition and formality.

Fusion cuisine allowed individuality and creativity.

Home style cuisine, on the other hand, used familiar ingredients.

It probably seemed less special.

With a bitter feeling, Baek Seungjin continued walking.

Then.

His gaze suddenly stopped at one station.

“…!”

Among the rows of royal cuisine and fusion dishes stood a neatly prepared home style meal.

The only one.

He slowly raised his head.

Na Seyoung and Kang Chan stood there.

A subtle smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

He hadn’t tasted the food yet.

But simply seeing that they had chosen a different path made him feel oddly pleased.

Choosing a path others avoid.

That was not easy.

He decided to taste the home style meal last and first began sampling the other teams’ dishes.

Each team had carefully prepared royal cuisine and fusion dishes.

Most royal cuisine dishes were neat and technically well executed.

The ingredients were interesting as well.

But the flavors were predictable.

They felt overly safe.

Fusion dishes were the opposite.

They had strong individuality.

Some showed bold attempts, but many lacked harmony.

Quietly recording his evaluations, Baek Seungjin finally approached Kang Chan and Na Seyoung’s station.

The presentation was simple without unnecessary decoration.

Yet the colors and balance were harmonious.

‘Gangwon regional cuisine… interesting.’

He slowly lifted his spoon and tasted the gondre rice and Chodang soft tofu.

He chewed slowly while savoring the flavor.

Then his eyes narrowed slightly.

Even after swallowing, the lingering savory taste refused to disappear.

The seasoning was minimal.

But it felt intentionally designed to harmonize with the other dishes.

This time he tried the rice with the side dishes.

Gulp.

A satisfied smile appeared on Baek Seungjin’s lips.

The mild and warm gondre rice and Chodang soft tofu.

Between them, the salty and diverse flavors of the side dishes created perfect accents.

The more he ate, the more his appetite opened rather than feeling full.

Then while tasting the side dishes, one item caught his attention.

Tteokbokki.

It felt slightly unexpected.

Of course the sweetness was reduced and the savory flavor emphasized, so it didn’t feel completely out of place.

Baek Seungjin smiled with satisfaction and spoke his evaluation in front of everyone.

“This team avoided unnecessary tricks and focused on balance. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted such a proper table. Excellent work.”

“Thank you.”

“…Thank you, professor.”

As he turned to leave, he asked one final question.

“But why did you include tteokbokki as a side dish?”

Na Seyoung hesitated briefly before answering.

“Because it’s Chan’s best dish.”

Baek Seungjin paused for a moment.

Then he burst into laughter.

A home style meal isn’t created within strict rules.

Sometimes it’s made spontaneously with leftover ingredients.

Sometimes it changes depending on a family’s taste.

Perhaps this table captured the true essence of home cooking better than anything else.

Thinking he had learned something from the two students, Baek Seungjin nodded.

“That was a truly excellent table.”