Chapter 6

* * *

Early in the morning, Kang Seongbok returned from the market. As soon as he unlocked the door to the snack bar, the rich smell of tteokbokki greeted him, making him tilt his head in curiosity.

There was no way anyone had started cooking tteokbokki this early.

He set the shopping bags down on the table and looked around. There, at one of the tables, sat his son Kang Chan and his wife Park Sunhee, side by side.

As he approached with a puzzled look, he noticed three different plates of tteokbokki neatly arranged before them.

“What’s all this?”

Kang Chan smiled warmly and handed him a pair of chopsticks.

“I tried making three types of tteokbokki using the recipe I mentioned yesterday. Original, spicy, and rose. Would you like to try them?”

Normally, Kang Seongbok insisted on eating a proper Korean breakfast, but the aroma was tempting enough to break his resolve.

He sat down, picked up the chopsticks, and examined the dishes in front of him.

On the left was the familiar original tteokbokki, in the center a vivid red spicy version, and on the right a creamy orange-colored one that looked unlike any he’d seen before.

‘What’s this one?’

He picked up a piece of the orange-tinted tteokbokki and took a bite. His eyes widened as soon as the flavor hit his tongue.

The spiciness and creamy texture blended surprisingly well, creating a rich, harmonious taste.

“This one feels like pasta. Kids these days would probably love it.”

Watching his father’s reaction, Kang Chan smiled in satisfaction.

Next, Kang Seongbok tried the fiery red one.

The instant it touched his tongue, the sharp scent of chili stung his nose, but it was oddly addictive.

This was the kind of intense flavor that would definitely appeal to younger customers who liked “extra spicy” tteokbokki.

As the heat spread through his mouth, he chuckled, impressed. Now he understood what his son had been thinking when he planned these recipes.

Finally, he tried the original flavor.

The sweetness was still there, but the depth and balance had improved. The perilla leaf garnish added a fragrant, slightly refined aroma that made it feel more sophisticated.

Across the table, Kang Chan watched his father’s reaction, a confident smile on his face.

“I made the sauces ahead of time before cooking. That way, during rush hours, we can shorten the prep time and serve customers faster.”

“You made the sauces ahead of time?”

“Yes. The basic and spicy sauces can stay fresh for several days in the fridge, but the rose one uses milk and cream, so it’s best to make it fresh every morning.”

Kang Seongbok set down his chopsticks and studied his son carefully.

After running this snack bar for twenty years, he had learned that running a restaurant wasn’t just about making good food. It was about managing time, cost, and efficiency.

There was a time when one simple tteokbokki flavor had been enough, but customers had changed. They now wanted faster service and more variety.

Those who failed to adapt inevitably fell behind, but Kang Chan had seen this shift clearly.

He hadn’t just created new flavors.

His plan carried a deeper business strategy.

Making sauces in advance, improving rotation speed, and maintaining consistency in flavor showed not just cooking talent but real insight into management.

Kang Seongbok realized all this instantly.

The additional toppings also caught his attention.

Perilla leaves, peanuts, and cheese could easily be charged as extras.

Allowing customers to customize their food increased both satisfaction and profit.

The more choices people had, the more willing they would be to spend.

It amazed him that his son, who had never run a business, understood this so well.

He was impressed by the boy’s sharp instincts and his courage to embrace change.

‘He’s not just good at cooking after all.’

Kang Chan, noticing his father’s thoughtful look, continued speaking.

“And Dad, what if we also sold take-home packs? Prepped ingredients and ready-made sauces so customers could cook it easily at home.”

“At home?”

“Yes. Most people come to snack bars to eat on-site, but some prefer convenience. For people living alone or those too busy to cook, this kind of product would be perfect.”

Kang Seongbok raised an eyebrow with interest.

“That’s an interesting idea. But would it actually sell?”

“Right now, it might sound unfamiliar, but people are starting to prefer convenience over effort. It may take time, but I’m sure it’ll catch on.”

Beside them, Park Sunhee looked worried.

“I’m more concerned about how customers will react to new flavors. Our snack bar has served the same menu for years. Some might not like change. What if the new menu doesn’t sell and we end up losing money?”

It was a valid concern, one Kang Seongbok himself shared. He turned to his son to see how he would respond.

Kang Chan smiled confidently.

“Then how about this idea?”

* * *

At Hanyul High School, Park Minji proudly called herself a tteokbokki expert.

In truth, she was a tteokbokki fanatic who hunted for it almost every other day.

To her, tteokbokki wasn’t just food.

It was part of her identity.

She often joked that without tteokbokki, life would lose half its meaning and fun.

Even her friends teased her, saying, “Your veins must run with tteokbokki sauce instead of blood.”

Ever since childhood, Minji had declared her love for it countless times.

During a grade school presentation on future dreams, she once said her goal was to find “the best tteokbokki in the world,” earning laughter from everyone in class.

But she had meant it.

That day after school, Minji rushed out to grab her favorite food.

Her destination was familiar.

Chani’s Snack Bar.

Unlike the trendy tteokbokki places that popped up everywhere, this shop still stuck to its classic recipe.

She had often come here when she was younger, though less frequently now, with so many new shops competing for attention.

Still, she came back from time to time out of nostalgia.

There was a certain charm in tasting something unchanged.

Walking to her usual spot, Minji sat down and glanced at the menu.

Something caught her eye.

A few new items.

Had the menu expanded?

She hesitated. She didn’t like taking chances on untested dishes.

“Excuse me, I’d like to order!”

A young man she didn’t recognize came over to take her order.

Minji blinked in surprise. He was good-looking.

On closer look, he seemed familiar.

After thinking for a moment, she remembered. He was the son of the owner.

“What would you like to order?”

She hesitated, then stuck with her go-to choice.

“One regular tteokbokki and one serving of sundae, please.”

“Have you been here before? I think I’ve seen you around.”

Minji’s heart skipped a beat. He remembered her.

She nodded shyly, pretending it was nothing.

He smiled brightly.

“We’re actually testing a few new menu items and getting feedback from customers. Would you like to try one?”

A chance to taste a new tteokbokki for free?

There was no reason to refuse.

Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she nodded eagerly.

“Which one would you like to try?”

“Spicy tteokbokki or rose tteokbokki?”

Spicy tteokbokki was everywhere these days, but “rose tteokbokki”? That was new.

“What’s rose tteokbokki?”

Her voice was filled with curiosity.

He smiled as if he had been waiting for that question.

“It’s made by adding cream to the usual spicy tteokbokki sauce. It’s smoother and creamier.”

Minji’s eyes sparkled.

Cream and spice together?

She couldn’t imagine the taste, but the idea intrigued her.

Maybe this was something truly new.

“Then… I’ll try the rose tteokbokki.”

Soon, a small plate of the new dish arrived beside her regular order.

As she looked down at it, a faint, creamy aroma mixed with the familiar spicy scent reached her nose.

The color was a soft orange, like a blend between chili and cream.

It looked like a cross between tteokbokki and pasta.

She lifted a piece carefully. The sauce clung perfectly, glossy but not too thick.

Her anticipation rose.

Slowly, she took a bite.

“!”

Her eyes widened.

This was nothing like she expected.

If regular tteokbokki was like a rock concert, this was a grand opera.

The cream enveloped her tongue first, smooth and savory, then the heat from the chili followed like a sudden burst of fireworks.

The contrast of gentle and fiery flavors danced perfectly together.

‘Unbelievable. It’s spicy and creamy at the same time.’

She chewed slowly, savoring the chewy rice cake and the layers of taste.

Just as the heat faded, the creamy aftertaste returned, soft and rich.

She had eaten more kinds of tteokbokki than she could count, but this… this was something else.

Minji took another bite, entranced.

It felt almost sacred to eat something this good alone.

She immediately decided she would tell her friends about it tomorrow.

They had to try it.

The thought of their reactions made her grin.

When she went to pay, the young man asked politely,

“How was it? Did you like it?”

Minji smiled brightly.

“Yes, it was amazing. Next time, I’ll bring my friends and try the spicy one too. Thank you.”