I Got the Almighty Tongue - Chapter 164



Only Noblemtl

164 Restaurants You Haven’t Experienced (2)

The biggest complaint I had while visiting Korean restaurants in Korea was that most restaurants didn’t pay much attention to their dishes.

More than 90% of Korean restaurants used white plastic plates that were clearly not fancy, and even if they put in a little effort, they did not go well with the food.

Didn’t you think it was them?

That wouldn’t have been the case.

The reason we use plastic plates is because of their overwhelming convenience.

It does not transmit heat, so it is free from burns, and is easy to clean and maintain. It is also light, so it is easy to serve, and it is safe because it does not break. It is also cheap, so it is easy to use and throw away, so it is difficult to find a substitute.

But despite these many advantages, my aesthetic sense vehemently rejects it.

So what kind of bowl should I use?

After much thought, I decided to use brassware. Ceramicware with bright colors and patterns is too dark. It is also heavy and can easily break, so there is a risk of injury.

On the other hand, the five-course meal set in brassware is not only aesthetically beautiful, but also has a class that is difficult to approach. It may be difficult to maintain for use in a public restaurant, but it is worth the effort of putting it in the dishwasher and wiping it with a dry towel.

Perhaps the most fatal flaw of brassware is its price, but this was not a big problem for me.

Fortunately, there was a company that distributed brassware in the United States, so I was able to receive the dishes through them. I also purchased a large quantity of matching brass spoons.

“Chef, is that okay? These spoons and chopsticks alone cost 20,000 won each….”

The employee in charge of the transaction spoke cautiously with a worried expression.

Loss and breakage of dishes and plates is a common occurrence in restaurants. I am not unaware of this, but it seems that my obsession with cleanliness does not only apply to food.

Although it doesn’t match, I also ordered a fork made of the same material for Americans who are not good at using chopsticks.

When I placed the dishes and utensils on a tray made of walnut, a satisfying picture came out. Only then did my mind find peace.

* * *

“Surrey! Let’s eat.”

Sophie came to Seol-hee’s room.

She is a student at New York University and has been living in the Lipton Hall dormitory since last year.

However, this dormitory, which had good facilities and easy access to campus, had a fatal flaw: the student cafeteria. The cafeteria here only served vegetarian menus. Of course, she welcomed any delicious vegetarian food. Unfortunately, the food here was notorious among students for its terrible taste.

“It’s not Seol-ryu, it’s Seol-hee. It’s probably your fault most of the time that the kids at school call my name strangely.”

Seol-hee looks at Sophie with a sly look and says.

“I like it because the texture is cute. It’s lunch time, aren’t you going to eat?”

“I hate school cafeterias to death. I’d rather eat cup noodles.”

“You know what? Even vegetarians don’t eat on the first floor. Why on earth should there be a vegetarian restaurant that even vegetarians ignore?”

“Don’t talk like you’re talking about someone else! It just so happens to be our student cafeteria.”

“Let’s go out to eat today. I know a hot restaurant. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Where?”

“It’s a Korean restaurant.”

Sophie had suggested to Seol-hee, who was Korean, that they go to a Korean restaurant several times, but Seol-hee’s answer was always the same.

“Don’t go.”

“Why? It’s your hometown food.”

“It’s so damn expensive and it tastes bad. Chinese kimchi, yuck!”

For her, a Korean restaurant was a place she would reluctantly go to when she felt like she would die if she didn’t eat Korean food.

Withered vegetables and stewed potatoes that look like they’ve been in the fridge for a few days. A stew full of seasonings made with ingredients that aren’t fresh.

She had a hard time understanding how they could serve such low-quality food for two to three times the price in Korea. But even so, there were days when she was craving Korean food.

‘I’m a sucker.’

The term ‘voluntary sucker’ is probably used to describe her.

“It might be different here?”

“what?”

“Do you know Shin Je-hee? She was on Master Chef.”

“I know. It’s famous in Korea too.”

How many Koreans don’t know Shin Je-hee? She is a person with a higher level of recognition than most singers or actors.

“It’s a restaurant that he created. It opened today. It’s on Instagram.”

“Huh? Look.”

Seol-hee checks Instagram on Sophie’s phone.

“Hundred Dishes? Organic, handmade.”

Swipe through the photo to reveal hundreds of jars lined up majestically against a backdrop of a bucolic farm.

There was also a scene of Shin Je-hee making tofu by hand.

“This is crazy. Is this possible? In New York?”

His craftsmanship is already famous. Looking at the price, it was an amount I could easily afford to pay.

“why?”

“No. Let’s go.”

Suddenly, I became interested.

If it weren’t for the full scholarship, she would never have come to NYU. But even if the tuition was waived, she was already spending more than half of her father’s salary on just the dormitory rent and living expenses. I was curious about Shin Je-hee’s food, but fine dining was out of the question for someone studying abroad while uprooting the family.

‘Hundred Dishes? That’s the restaurant run by Shin Je-hee?’

The moment I heard it, I thought of Baekban. That must have been the intended name.

I took the bus with Sophie to Midtown East. Looking at Google Maps, I turned left on 3rd Avenue and entered East 55th Street, where I saw the restaurant in the photo.

“What is all this?”

There were more than thirty people lined up along the sidewalk, waiting to get in. She and Sophie stared blankly at them for a moment before coming to their senses.

“I feel like I have to wait in line. Oh my gosh. I can’t believe there will come a day when I have to wait in line to eat Korean food.”

Seol-hee sighs.

“Everyone goes crazy when they hear the word ‘organic’. If you were that concerned about your health, you should just stop eating donuts.”

Sophie complains, frustrated at having to wait.

Since there was nothing to do while waiting, Seol-hee looked around.

There were two groups of people who looked like Koreans, and the rest were all locals of various races. The interior of the restaurant was spacious, so it didn’t take long for me to wait and I was able to get in. However, there were already as many people behind me, and the line still hadn’t gotten any shorter.

“It’s our turn.”

As you open the door and go inside, there is an antique that you might have seen somewhere on one side of the hallway.

“What is that?”

Sophie asks Seolhee.

‘What was it? Ah! A historical drama!’

In a historical drama I once watched, the cell where King Yeongjo imprisoned Crown Prince Sado looked like this.

“It’s probably a rice container.”

After being shown to my seat and sitting at a table, the server brought me a fancy booklet-style menu. I opened it with a pounding heart.

“There’s only one menu item available? How should I read this? Ocheop Bansang?”

Sophie frowns as she reads the menu.

“Five-course meal. This is the type of meal that the nobles of medieval Korea ate. It seems like the dishes change every day.”

The neatly printed menu contained detailed photos and descriptions of each day’s dishes.

“Please give me two five-course meals.”

“Do you have any special dietary restrictions?”

“no.”

The server checks to see if you have any allergies to certain foods. When I first came to the US, I didn’t understand it either, but the US takes allergies much more seriously than Korea.

After ordering, 15 minutes later, a server arrives pushing a cart that looks like something you might see in Korea and brings the food to the table.

Her eyes were caught by the sight of food in elegant brass bowls on thin wooden trays.

“It’s very hot. Be careful not to burn yourself. You need to open the wooden lid first and pour the rice into the bowl.”

Seol-hee deftly takes rice out of the stone pot. Then, the server pours hot water into it using a kettle. Sophie also follows suit, watching Seol-hee.

“After a meal, you can eat it by scraping the stone pot with a spoon. It’s called sunung.”

‘It must be a snail.’

Seol-hee wanted to correct her pronunciation, but she didn’t say anything out loud.

“Did Korean nobles eat such extravagant meals in the Middle Ages?”

Sophie looks at the dinner table in admiration.

She was surprised too.

In the earthenware pot, soybean paste stew was bubbling away, and a large plate of stir-fried pork, which looked like it could be more than two servings by Korean standards, was showing off its delicious appearance. The cabbage kimchi, spinach side dish, oyster pancake, and stir-fried shrimp and garlic chives looked delicious. With the braised mackerel and pickled chili peppers, it was truly the perfect meal for her.

Click.

Sophie is taking pictures, probably to post on Instagram. Seol-hee also quickly takes out her iPhone and takes pictures. The beautiful food in brass bowls against the dark walnut tray looks good. Her shoulders shrug.

“Let’s try it. Are the chopsticks okay?”

“Of course. The dishes are so pretty.”

Metal tableware with a soft sheen looks elegant.

She, who is interested in oriental food, confidently picks up her chopsticks. Her eyes are fixed on the steaming meat.

Muck muck.

“It’s so delicious.”

Sophie is happy eating stir-fried pork.

Seol-hee also picked up a piece of meat and tried it.

It’s spicy, but not too spicy.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

It was the first Korean meal in two months that impressed her greatly. The deep flavors of the homemade gochujang and soy sauce and the harmony of high-quality pork were ecstatic. The thinly sliced ​​and stir-fried carrots were crunchy and the longed-for scent of green onions and garlic blended with the taste of the sauce to create harmony.

The sticky rice was glossy. After taking a bite of the rice, I tasted the soybean paste stew.

‘This is crazy.’

The tofu is soft like pudding. The clams and zucchini are chewed together with the tofu. The taste of the mushrooms is also very satisfying. The refreshing and deep taste of the broth is also excellent.

‘Was soybean paste stew this delicious?’

When choosing a stew, she always chose the latter between soybean paste and kimchi. However, she thought that if it was a soybean paste stew of this level, it would be okay to switch from today. The well-seasoned mackerel stew was easy to eat because it had no bones. Everything was perfect, from the fresh organic vegetables to the delicious cabbage kimchi and the pickled chili peppers in soy sauce.

As I was eating in a hurry, I suddenly felt full. The stir-fried pork that seemed like a lot had already been eaten a long time ago, and the vegetables and side dishes were also running low.

“Excuse me. Can I get refills on the side dishes?”

‘It’s a Korean restaurant, so it should be okay, right?’

My face turned red with embarrassment. I hoped that people wouldn’t think I was weird. This was the norm in Korean restaurants. I felt embarrassed asking my American server for a refill.

“Of Course!”

Luckily, the server calmly brings the side dishes.

“What? Are you just going to give it to me?”

Sophie’s eyes widen.

“Korea is originally like that.”

“Please help me too!”

Sophie also refills her side dishes.

After finishing the rice, I opened the stone pot and ate the soup. It was heaven.

“This is Korean food!”

She begins to look over the menu placed on one side of the table again.

‘Let’s see. Tomorrow, seaweed soup and bulgogi, the day after, soft tofu stew and LA ribs…’

“I didn’t know Korean food was this delicious. Let’s go somewhere else!”

Her face is red, as if she is not used to spicy food, but she looks extremely satisfied.

“No! Let’s just come here, Sophie! Not all Korean restaurants are like this one. It’s hard to find this level of quality even in Korea.”

The restaurant is full.

Her heart is touched by the sight of people of all races, including black, white, Asian, and Latino, holding spoons and eating delicious Korean food.

“This is Shin Je-hee’s food. Isn’t this place also going to become a Michelin star restaurant?”

He says it as if he remembered Sophie eating the porridge.

“I hope not. I’ll have to wait in line every day.”

She was already worried.