229_Hmm... -2
“Hey, do you have a deeper pot than this?”
“A deep one? Open the cabinet up there.”
“Yeah, it’s here. Is this all the cutting boards?”
“No. There are more in the drawer underneath.”
“Whoa, how many cutting boards does one house need? You people practically run a restaurant.”
While the two fathers had gone up to the second floor, relishing their liberation from chatter.
On the first floor, Kim Jiwoo and her mother were busily preparing dinner.
They had considered eating out, but they thought Jian might be tired, and they wanted to feed him home-cooked Korean food for the first time in a while, so they were preparing it now.
But the way the two of them looked was almost combative.
“Okay, mise en place done. Shall we start?”
“Who said you could just start? Mom’s not ready yet.”
“What’s taking you so long?”
“It’s easy for you because it’s your kitchen. Mom’s on an expedition. I have to figure out where everything is first, don’t I?”
“Tsk, proving who the amateur is, I see. Jian will be here before we know it.”
Various cutting boards and ingredients were lined up across the counter, and pots and frying pans occupied every burner. Knives, spatulas, and other tools were at the ready.
Wearing aprons, the two of them looked so tense that they seemed like contestants about to enter a cooking competition.
“Alright. Let’s get started. Ready?”
“Ready. I’ll serve you something bitter.”
That’s right.
It was a duel.
A showdown between a mother with twenty years of experience and a daughter educated abroad in the culinary arts.
This absurd domestic battle had been sparked by Kim Jiwoo’s provocation.
While discussing what to make for dinner, Jiwoo had openly declared that Jian would enjoy her cooking more than her mother’s. She claimed that unlike her mother, who was ultimately an amateur, she had reached the semi-pro level.
Naturally, her mother had refused to accept that.
True, her daughter had trained professionally, but she herself was a veteran who had rolled through twenty years in the field.
The gap between someone who merely learned and someone who worked in practice was heaven and earth. She shot back that a novice like Jiwoo could never match the handiwork of a housewife with twenty years under her belt.
And so, this sudden competition had unfolded.
A cooking battle waged on the pride of mother and daughter.
“Ready—”
“Start!”
The moment it began, sparks flew.
Literally, since they had lit the burners.
At the same time, the daughter moved to seize the initiative.
Secret Technique, Chapter 1.
Swift Sword—
Tak-tak-tak-tak-tak—!
The sound of blade meeting cutting board rang out crisply.
The speed was so blinding that by sound alone, it felt like a sewing machine had come to life.
Where the blade passed, the remains of the onion—chopped into uniform pieces—lay neatly.
Fast, yet without a single inch of error.
“Hmm-hmm—”
She even hummed a tune on purpose, thoroughly at ease.
Kim Jiwoo was a woman whose knife skills had been unmatched even at a school filled with top talents.
She diced an onion in less than fifteen seconds.
Her mother must have been startled as well.
But Jiwoo’s expectation, as she glanced smugly to the side, was beautifully off the mark.
“Hmm-hmm—”
Far from flustered, her mother was instead utterly relaxed.
She took an onion halved lengthwise and placed the pieces side by side on the cutting board.
And then,
Tak-tak-tak—!
“…!”
She sliced through it all at once.
Her blade might have been slower, but the amount of onion felled in a single stroke was double.
As if to say that flashy speed was merely an empty trick.
Years of know-how, accumulated while feeding a family of four, heavily dominated the kitchen.
“…”
“…”
The heat in the kitchen steadily intensified.
Both breathed with such concentration that one had to wonder if it was really necessary.
The only sounds filling the kitchen were the chopping, the fire from the burners, and something being stir-fried.
They focused in silence for some time.
Before long, delicious scents began wafting up from the kitchen, and dishes gradually neared completion.
The first dish finished and plated was Kim Jiwoo’s bulgogi.
“Okay, one down. I made it clear, right? The moment Jian gets here, you can’t touch anything more?”
“I know.”
“Oh my, with hands that slow, what will you do? You’ll probably finish just boiling one stew.”
“This is all about timing and the big picture. If I put it out now, it’ll all be cold by the time we eat. Didn’t think of that? Hoho.”
“Yeah, I made it to be mixed with hot rice. I have a plan for everything.”
Both wore relaxed smiles, but anyone could see the tension crackling between them.
For this moment, they were not mother and daughter, but rivals staking their pride.
There was nothing they wouldn’t do to win.
“…”
The mother, stirring her stew with a ladle, seemed inwardly anxious and stole a glance at her daughter’s station.
And then, gulp, she swallowed.
‘…She’s fast.’
Her hands were much faster than expected.
She was already moving smoothly onto her second dish.
Moreover, the neatness of her prepared ingredients and the plating revealed a strong sense of trained skill.
Having only ever cooked for her family, the mother’s style prioritized only taste and health; she worried she might definitely fall behind in refinement.
The judge of this competition was Jian.
In the end, it was the palate of a teenager.
In that regard, she might be at a disadvantage.
…This won’t do.
Though she was proud that her daughter’s cooking had improved by leaps and bounds, right now, she was an opponent who had to be defeated.
‘Good.’
Having nodded to herself with determination, the mother began her interference.
Namely, trash talk.
“By the way, have you been on any dates since you got here?”
“…What date?”
“What do you mean, what date? I’m asking if you’ve gone out with Jian.”
“You should say it like that. Calling it a date is weird.”
Having hooked the conversation, the mother slyly studied her daughter’s expression.
She had pouted.
A little more prodding, and it might work.
“Didn’t he suggest going to a nice restaurant or going out somewhere?”
“…You think Jian has time to spare? He’s busy; he doesn’t have time for that.”
“Come on, no matter how busy, he must have days off.”
“Days off are for resting.”
“So, you haven’t been on a single date since coming to England?”
“…”
Kim Jiwoo avoided answering.
So her mother, as if just passing by, nonchalantly landed a heavy blow.
“Hasn’t Jian found some girl he likes by now?”
“What are you talking about. Him?”
At her daughter’s bristling reaction, the mother smiled inwardly.
Hook, line, and sinker.
“Why not? Jian is a man, after all.”
“All he does is stay home; like he’d do that.”
“People meet who they’re meant to meet. Especially someone like Jian—women would line up for him. Even if he stays home, they’ll come find him.”
“What would you know. He only knows soccer. Everything else, he’s still stuck in his kid days.”
“Are you sure?”
“…Sure about what?”
“You used to brag all the time when you were in Italy. That you hung out with Jian, went somewhere, sent pictures. But suddenly, now that you’re in England, you don’t have time?”
“So, what are you trying to say? All of a sudden.”
At her daughter’s irritated reaction, the mother shrugged impishly.
“Calling after the bus has passed is no use. Once the train leaves, it’s over.”
“What are you on about.”
“Dawdling and spacing out, you’ll miss your chance, you little fool. You have to seize it while you can. Are you still insisting you’re just friends?”
Fwosh.
Flames burst from the burner.
Perhaps because of that, Kim Jiwoo’s face seemed to turn red as well.
“What do you mean, insist. A friend is a friend.”
“There’s no such thing as friends between men and women. It doesn’t exist.”
“It could exist.”
“No, it doesn’t. Your father and I are proof. A friend becomes a lover, a lover becomes honey, that’s how it goes.”
“Ha, funny. Just because that’s how it was for you doesn’t mean everyone is like that.”
“Oh goodness, you’re frustrating.”
The mother clutched her chest.
What had started as light interference had somehow turned into genuine frustration.
The exasperated mother hurled a straight ball.
“You like Jian.”
“…What?”
“Who do you think you’re fooling. So you don’t like him? You can’t live without him.”
“Wh-what are you…”
“Then why did you follow him all the way from Italy to England? Why do hearts appear in your eyes every time you look at him?”
By now, her face was the exact same color as the fire.
Kim Jiwoo’s face, that is.
But she couldn’t refute it.
“If you like him, you have to say it. Huh? You have to express it so the other person knows. Are you just going to wait around hoping he notices?”
“What…”
“You’ll be beating the ground in regret later. No, tell me the reason. Why are you just sitting still? How long are you going to keep doing that?”
“What…”
“I’m telling you, if you like him, say you like him. Why are you frustratingly just waiting around?”
Before they knew it, cooking had become secondary.
Her mother asked as if she truly couldn’t understand, but Kim Jiwoo didn’t answer, merely fiddling with the japchae.
“Goodness, frustrating. It’s disappointing that my daughter is only capable of this much.”
Mom, her sisters, and Mom’s mother too had all been proactive in winning good spouses.
That was the family tradition, so seeing the youngest daughter dawdling was inevitably frustrating.
The mother sighed and shook her head.
Still, Kim Jiwoo remained silent.
She merely pouted her lips and stirred the japchae.
It was a moment later that Kim Jiwoo finally opened her mouth.
“……How could I.”
“How could you what, you little fool.”
“In just a few years, he’s risen so high that someone like me can’t even be seen anymore. How could I?”
Kim Jiwoo’s sealed lips burst open.
The first step was the hardest; once she had unburdened herself, the words began to flow.
“Just like you said, women must be lining up for him. He’s cool. He’s good-looking, has money, and is popular. He’s successful.”
“But.”
“But I’ve been his friend since we were kids. If I suddenly change now? Just because he’s successful? Wouldn’t that feel a bit strange?”
Kim Jiwoo sighed and continued.
“Sigh. You’re right, I think I missed my timing. He’s become an incredible person who doesn’t match with me anymore. Now if I… I feel like it would seem like I’m not being sincere…”
Utterly dejected.
As Kim Jiwoo wilted, her mother snorted.
“Listen to you, talking like you’ve seen the world. So many worries. What, are you worried you’ll look like a gold digger?”
“…”
“So what if you do? If you like each other, that’s all that matters. Would Jian hate you?”
“…How would you know?”
“Would you offer to set up a restaurant for someone you had no feelings for? Just because you’re friends? Hmm. That’s not what it looks like to me.”
“…”
“They say the best time is when you think you’re late. But you aren’t even late yet. What’s the problem, you little fool.”
Tsk-tsk-tsk.
As her mother clicked her tongue, Kim Jiwoo pouted again.
Then, she asked quietly.
“…Mom, you…”
“Yeah.”
“How did you get Dad?”
“Your father?”
Kim Jiwoo nodded, and the mother seemed to think of the old days before breaking into a grin.
Then she shook her head.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why. What is it?”
“It’s R-rated, you little fool.”
“Ah, what the heck.”
No matter how open-minded she was, it wasn’t appropriate to share with her daughter.
Suddenly getting angry at her husband, thinking about how different he was now compared to back then, the mother continued her nagging.
“Anyway, don’t just sit there, do something. You have to live honestly so you don’t make yourself sick.”
“…”
“Either it works or it doesn’t. Throw away those useless worries. A kid who was totally relaxed even with a week left before exams is worrying about strange things.”
Under the barrage of her mother’s nagging, Kim Jiwoo’s lips jutted out further and further like Pinocchio’s nose.
Somehow, a bloody cooking competition had turned into a counseling session.
“Listen to Mom. Okay?”
“…I don’t know. I’ll handle it myself.”
“Handle it yourself. While doing absolutely nothing.”
“…”
Kim Jiwoo glared at the japchae, her expression complicated by the flood of thoughts.
That was when.
Bang—!
From the end of the hallway connected to the living room, the sound of a door closing rang out.
Then, a clearing of the throat and the sound of stretching.
It was Lee Jian’s voice.
“Ahh, I’m tired—”
“Oh my, Jian’s here! Good work, good work!”
At Lee Jian’s appearance, the mother dropped her cooking and ran out in her socks to greet him.
Meanwhile.
“…”
For some reason, Kim Jiwoo couldn’t even look her longtime friend in the eye, merely pretending to focus on her cooking.
*
“…Just the most delicious one?”
“Yeah. Just one. Anything among these.”
“They… they were all delicious, though.”
“I know, I know. But the most! The one that tasted the best.”
…This was awkward.
At the mother’s request to pick the most delicious thing he’d just eaten, he scratched his head.
No matter how oblivious he was.
He had seen everything—that the mother and Jiwoo had prepared the meal together.
Therefore, the intention behind this question must have been whose food was tastier.
“Well…”
What on earth was he supposed to choose?
Both the mother and Jiwoo looked at him with burdensome eyes.
They both seemed to be pleading for him to pick their dish, but he didn’t even know who made what.
Perhaps it was a blessing that he didn’t know.
“Hmm…”
…I don’t know.
He had no choice but to pick the one that had actually tasted the best.
“…This one.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and pointed at one dish.
On the table, it was galbi-jjim.
How could anyone beat galbi-jjim?
“That’s it! As expected of our Jian! You have such a proper tongue!”
It was the mother who threw her hands up in triumph.
At the same time, Jiwoo hung her head deeply, so it seemed the galbi-jjim had been the mother’s work.
No, but they had all really been delicious.
Being asked to choose just one among them was too cruel.
“It’s okay, my daughter. Losing to Mom is nothing to be ashamed of. Work harder. You have talent.”
“…You’re being loud.”
“Oh my, scary. You shouldn’t lose in cooking and in manners, should you?”
“…Ha.”
He was relieved that he had chosen the mother’s dish, but at the same time, he feared the aftermath.
Looking at Jiwoo’s expression… it was terrifying.
She might say she won’t cook for him anymore.
Not that he was worried about that, but still, he felt he should offer some kind of comfort.
“But they were all really delicious. Really.”
“…”
“Losing to galbi-jjim is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“…You’re loud too.”
“Yeah.”
Hmm.
Perhaps that hadn’t been the right thing to say.
Feeling the murderous intent, he quickly nodded and closed his mouth.
Then he picked up his empty bowl and headed for the sink.
“Leave it, Jian. You must be tired; you should rest. Auntie will clean up.”
“No. I’m grateful that you made it for us, but…”
“Uh-uh. Listen to Auntie.”
“…Yes.”
But his bowl was snatched away as well.
Still feeling uncomfortable and fidgeting, the mother spoke to him.
“The garden here is so beautiful. Go take a walk together to help digest. Hmm?”
“…A walk?”
“Yeah. If that Jiwoo girl lies down right after eating, she’ll turn into a pig soon. Get her to move a bit. I’m asking you.”
“You don’t have to ask…”
He scratched his head and looked at Jiwoo.
Despite the mother’s words, Jiwoo seemed to have her ears shut, looking elsewhere.
Hmm.
“…What are you doing. Let’s go.”
When he spoke to her, Jiwoo finally glanced over and nodded weakly.
And they headed to the front door together.
…Hmm.
He had a feeling this would be an awkward walk.