God of Cooking Novel - Chapter 121
Chapter 121: Chapter 121: Rules of Tasting (2)
It was unfortunate, but there was no way they were going to Rose Island. Martin finally gave in and gave everybody 150 reals. That was still not enough to eat extravagantly, but if they ate like average people, it would be more than enough to enjoy 3 meals a day.
“… I’m impressed, Rachel. Martin didn’t even listen to me when I resisted.”
“The power of age.”
‘More like the power of authority and money.’
Cho Min Joon didn’t say that out loud. Anderson opened his mouth.
“Rachel, can you tell me what you’d like to eat? If you don’t want to eat street food, I’ll try to cook for you myself.”
“Thank you for the thought, but since we’re in Brazil, we should experience the flavors and charms of this country.”
“Speaking of which, we probably can’t see a carnival while we’re here, can we?”
“The carnival season already ended half a year ago. They usually have it in February.”
Martin spoke in a sad voice and shrugged. Cho Min Joon was disappointed but relieved at the same time. With Cho Min Joon’s personality, such a vibrant and exciting atmosphere was difficult.
‘Come to think of it, netizens said I’m boring because I’m like this.’
Of course, some said that was his charm, but he still felt hurt.
“Min Joon, what about you?”
“… Sorry?”
“Where do you want to go? Is there a dish you want to try?”
Emily asked in a cheerful voice. She must’ve been grateful for his efforts to make sure she got a proper meal the night before. She looked especially friendly. Cho Min Joon shook his head.
“Like I said last time, I don’t know much about Brazilian food.”
“Hm… What did you think about the Feijoa yesterday?”
“It was delicious. I actually liked it better than the Churrasco. It was a unique experience.”
“It was better than the Churrasco…? I can get a sense of Min Joon’s taste.”
Rachel nodded. Most people typically enjoyed Churrasco more than Feijoa because it was meat. Not many people disliked meat. On top of that, since it was meat made by a professional with decades of experience, the quality and texture were at a whole different level.
Since Rachel wasn’t with them, she didn’t know just how delicious the Churrasco and Feijoa were, but she could see what Cho Min Joon valued in food.
Chef. How the thoughts and methods of one were expressed. Rather than Churrasco, such qualities could be better seen in more complicated and detailed dishes.
With extensive knowledge about meat, one could even read the philosophy of a chef just by the way they used the knife, but even if Cho Min Joon possessed great tasting talent, that was hard for him to do at his age. That only resulted from experience.
‘Take my experience, Min Joon.’
Rachel intended to be Cho Min Joon’s pillar if need be. That was how much she wanted him. Cho Min Joon was a gemstone. Of course, she wasn’t the gemstone metal worker, but she knew a well-cut gem when she saw one. She was the wife of one.
Rachel spoke, “How about coffee?”
Everybody exclaimed and nodded. Brazil was famous for its coffee, so it was surprising that no one brought it up yet. Anderson glanced at Rachel and cautiously opened his mouth. He looked like an interviewee who was cautiously speaking at a job interview.
“Coffee and brunch… Come to think of it, we can’t do brunch since we need to have all 3 meals in a day. Then how about a Brazilian breakfast?”
“What does that look like?”
Cho Min Joon only knew English breakfast and American breakfast. Anderson shrugged and answered, “Cheese, coldcut, roasted cheese, fruits, cereal, Pao de Queijo, as well as orange or banana cake. Not all of that has to be included, but you can choose. But you get the idea.”
“I’m in.”
Emily said. Rachel and Anderson looked at Cho Min Joon. Cho Min Joon raised both hands.
“I don’t know much, so what can I say? I’ll just follow your lead.”
“Great. Let’s go. But Rachel, do you have a restaurant in mind?”
“There is, but I’ve been there maybe 10 years ago… I don’t know if they still exist. That old man’s even older than me.”
She was sad that she was at an age where she had to talk about death. Rachel smiled bitterly and then closed her mouth. She showed a straight face. Her face made Cho Min Joon think. He wondered if the wrinkles of elders were sad to look at because that was just how many people they had to send away.
Just the thought of how many people she must’ve lost to have all those wrinkles at 60 made his heart sink.
Luckily, the restaurant Rachel was thinking of was only 10 minutes away, but that was considering Rachel’s pace. If it was Cho Min Joon or Anderson, they would’ve arrived after 5 minutes.
But there was an upside to walking slow. They were able to enjoy the scenery that they passed by. There was nothing special about the buildings. They saw many antique buildings, but they could see plenty of that in Europe or America.
What caught their attention more was the people. Brazil tended to be home to a variety of races, but the sight of darker-skinned people chatting away underneath parasols left the strongest impression.
“Min Joon, you said you haven’t traveled much, right?”
“That’s right.”
“You did the right thing coming on this show. It’s hard for celebrities since too many TV appearances gets rid of their scarcity, but we’re chefs, not celebrities. Chefs only lose scarcity when their dishes become unwanted. You know many three-star restaurants don’t pass their second evaluation, right?”
“Many people don’t want the star because of the burden.”
Anderson jumped into the conversation. Rachel nodded with a soft look on her face
“That’s true. It’s rare that the reason behind losing the stars is because of lack of flavor. It’s three stars. Unless the head chef changes, the basic quality still stands, but they still lose stars anyway. Think about it. What do you think the problem is?”
Cho Min Joon fell deep into thought. It was as Rachel said. Unless the head chef changed, the standard of the kitchen didn’t change. If they still lost stars, what did that mean? After much thought, he came to an answer, but Anderson opened his mouth first.
“Is it because of inertia?”
“Tell me more.”
“As soon as a restaurant gets 3 stars, they’re known as the very best. In other words, their menu is the very best. So it’s hard for the head chef, owner, or the menu to change. If that keeps them from changing… maybe the evaluation would get stricter, too.”
“Speaking as a food critic, that’s very much the case. There’s no charm if the chef’s kitchen doesn’t evolve. How would you feel if your lover wore the same clothes every single day… and didn’t even show the effort to try on a different outfit? Right?”
Emily jumped in as well. It was a very feminine comparison, but he understood. Rachel flicked her finger.
“That’s it right there. What a food-critic-like thing to say. However, the chef has no choice either. They worry that if they try on a different outfit people won’t think they look pretty anymore. That’s why this moment is important.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“If you put a lot of effort in one field, you’re bound to go in deeper, but if you want to enter various fields, you need extensive experience. The more food cultures they experience, the more it’ll help them later on because their knowledge becomes vaster. It’s much better to come up with recipes in a broader world than a narrow one.”
Cho Min Joon answered Rachel’s question in a mumbling voice, and Martin felt strange seeing that. This was a variety show, but it suddenly sounded like a documentary, but it wasn’t a bad picture. Variety shows were supposed to be entertaining, not funny. He thought he could make it fun if he edited it right.
10 minutes passed by in no time thanks to the conversation. They arrived at a one-story building. The walls were made of red bricks, and the door was a white plastic. On top of that, the roof was made of ceramic. The building looked as though a little kid designed it.
It wasn’t overflowing with customers, but there weren’t many empty tables, and most of them were locals rather than tourists. After all, they all seemed to wear clothes that they threw on while at home. Emily nodded in satisfaction.
“It’s best to go to a local restaurant than a touristy one.”
Rachel didn’t answer and looked around the kitchen. An employee approached and spoke in broken English,
“If you take a seat, I’ll take your order soon.”
“No, actually… Is Douglas here?”
Rachel answered in the Portuguese language. The employee answered with a brighter face. This time, she also spoke in Portuguese, “Douglas? Oh, are you our former boss’ friend?”
“Former?”
“Oh, don’t worry. He didn’t leave or anything. He retired and is resting. He does come out from time to time… But I’m not sure if he’ll be here today.”
“Who’s the boss now?”
“Douglas’ daughter. Camellia…”
“Oh… I see.”
Rachel answered with a strange face and sat in her seat. She was worried he was dead, but maybe she also expected him to be in the kitchen like old times. But then again, she had retired and left her restaurant as well. She smiled and looked at everyone.
“You wanted to try a Brazilian breakfast, right? Let me know if you’d like something else. There’s a menu I recommend and one you should avoid at all costs.”
“… Didn’t you bring us here because it’s good?”
“Just because the face is pretty means the body is pretty, too.”
Cho Min Joon ordered the Brazilian breakfast nervously. He also ordered the Feijoa. He wanted to experience the touching feelings he felt when he had Emily’s yesterday. The cost was reasonable, too. It was only 25 reals.
‘That Churrasco place yesterday was expensive.’
He understood since it was a buffet by the beach. At the same time, he realized that he had to go where the land was cheap in order to serve customers at a good price with good ingredients.
‘But maybe if the land is cheap, there won’t be many customers around…’
Whatever the case, that wasn’t for him to worry about now. The employee brought out plates. The price depended on what was included in the Brazilian breakfast, but Cho Min Joon ordered the most basic one. He wanted to taste the breakfast of a typical Brazilian person, and he also worried that the Feijoa would fill him up.
Cho Min Joon looked at the plate in front of him. There was a Portuguese style bread, the back leg of a pig, a bread consisting of papaya and cheese, as well as a mozzarella cheese corn cake.
The first thing he ate was the Pao de Queijo. The name was unfamiliar, but the flavor felt familiar. The bread tasted like sticky rice breads, and he tasted the cheese from in between. The scent of the cheese was nice. The cooking score was 6. It wasn’t that impressive, but…
‘I can’t stop eating it.’
It wasn’t that delicious, but it had a strange charm and addictiveness to it, but he couldn’t keep eating that. There were only a few, and he had to taste the other food as well.
He also tasted the rolled bread with mozzarella cheese, but there was nothing special. Cho Min Joon then stared at the Feijoa. He then glanced at the other three.
‘… I hope they don’t think I’m weird.’
Cho Min Joon poured the Feijoa over the bread. But at that moment, the other three all stared at him. Did they think he was being disgraceful? Cho Min Joon smiled awkwardly. Emily spoke in a surprised voice, “Min Joon, do you like to pour soup over your bread?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Hm… Don’t you prefer to dip them? The texture you get when you dip the bread in the soup. When the bread is covered in a thinner layer of soup, the flavor is much better.”
“I’m not sure. Not much soup gets on using that method, and it’s bothersome trying to catch some of the contents. Most importantly, I feel like I can taste the soup better when I pour it. Anderson, what do you think?”
“You have to dip it. That’s much easier. If you pour the soup on bread, you could get it on your fingers.”
Cho Min Joon chewed on his bread with a sad look on his face. Rachel smiled and said, “I also like to pour it. I hate it when the breadcrumbs get in the soup.”
“Oh, at least I have one person on my side.”
Cho Min Joon smiled in response to Rachel’s save. Anderson coughed and said, “Come to think of it, I tend to pour it more often than dip it. It’s more delicious despite the discomfort. And like you said, I don’t like breadcrumbs in my soup…”
The other three glanced at Anderson. Anderson looked away and thought, ‘… We all have different taste.’