Garlic Was Never a Spice

As any Korean would tell you, garlic was not a spice.

"It's a vegetable, I said."

"Kkung kkung kkung…."

"Honey, is it really something to hate that much?"

Whenever Honey expressed denial, it always made that "kkung" sound. When it kkung-ed like this, its already round body curled even rounder and bobbed up and down, looking like a fragile, bouncing stress ball.

Ji-oh, however, felt wronged.

"Garlic isn't spicy once you cook it."

"Kkung."

"You'll know if you try it. It's just potato. A soft, mashed, juicy potato, nothing more."

"Kkung kkung…."

"All the flavor went into the oil. Dad is truly offended right now."

He had gone to the trouble of cooking a whole meal, only for two members of the family to distrust him.

"I already told you I tried it myself."

It wasn't Honey who reacted this time, but the teddy bear.

"Kku-wu…."

"…Of course Koreans handle spice well, but Father, that's a stereotype. Not every Korean is good with heat. I was only average."

He had never said it out loud, yet the Sun God, being a god, knew that among the "Ji-ohs" there was a Korean. And thanks to the rumor that Koreans were especially resistant to spice, they had arrived at this standoff.

"Why must we face such a cruel trial before this warm and delicious table…?"

As always, Ji-oh's cooking was outstanding.

The Club Trumpet Clams, tossed in at just the right moment, had cooked soft and moist and shone a pure white. The olive oil, steeped in the soul of garlic, harmonized beautifully with Galaxy Mary and Weeping Lace.

And the bread—blessed with the Sun God's warmth, sliced, then baked once more in Ji-oh's oven—poured out a rich, toasty aroma without reserve.

"On top of that we have slices of smoked fish gently dried in a mild spring breeze. How simple and perfect a table is this? Especially if you lay that soft, chewy fish on a crisp baguette, drizzle one or two drops of the gambas oil, and finish with a well-fermented caper—how delicious would that be?"

Whether the pig's heartfelt appeal to appetite had worked or not, Honey and the teddy bear hesitated. Ji-oh seized the moment and set both of them on the table.

"Let's eat first and talk later. No matter how much you hate spice, you don't do this in front of a steaming meal. That is an insult to the ingredients and a slight against me, the cook."

"Kkureuk…."

"Kku-wu…."

"Dana's already gone and sat down. Are the rest of you really going to keep dithering? Honey, I did not raise you to be this frail. Father, didn't you say you wanted to experience human culture?"

In the end, Ji-oh managed to persuade them both.

"A wise decision. Yes, you may feel resistance to spice, but if you only avoid it without ever trying, your range of experience can only shrink."

"Kku-wuuu."

"Of course, spiciness is closer to pain than flavor—I won't deny that—but I hope you'll understand that even that is part of the gourmet experience. Mouthfeel is a branch of dining too."

It was the same as not wanting soggy dumplings or rock-hard pudding. Every food had a texture that suited it best, and flavors and aromas that matched that form. Ji-oh simply could not leave these spice-wimps alone.

"No, more than that."

He appealed his grievance once more.

"It isn't spicy, I tell you."

"……."

"Dana, even you don't trust your father?"

Anyway, the meal went ahead. Honey and the Sun God both showed subtle reluctance, yet they had never intended to skip the meal entirely. With such a delicious smell wafting around, how could anyone refuse?

For his timid spice-wimp of a son, Ji-oh made a salmon baguette.

"On the baguette go well-cooked broccoli and garlic… then smash the tomato wide so the juice comes out… lay the smoked fish on top… and crown it with a cheese flower. Ta-da."

Ji-oh's signature salmon baguette was complete.

"Good thing I grew the cheese flowers."

It was the cheese flower he had first encountered at the restaurant he visited with Yu Seong-un. Since it was a plant that grew wild in some dungeon, he had been able to bring back seeds.

Influenced by the forest, it had evolved from something like azalea into morning glory, but the deep flavor and aroma remained the same.

"Eat it with the cheese like this and it'll be much milder."

"Kkung…."

Gulp.

The baguette melted smoothly into Honey's body.

"…Kkurr."

"It's good, right?"

"Kkurrrrrrrr."

"Thank goodness."

The impression left by the very first food often decided the entire gourmet path afterward. He did not want to plant a bad memory of "spicy" in a child tasting it for the first time.

"It's only mildly hot—okay?"

"Kkureuk kkureuk."

"Right. You only know after you try."

Ji-oh made himself a baguette the same way and took a bite.

"Mm."

In the name of a self-proclaimed amateur gourmet, he approved.

"Nice."

"Kkurung."

It was delicious.

I think it could have been a little spicier than this.

He avoided spice on the level of a traffic accident, but he knew that a gentle shoulder-bump of heat could be a pleasant stimulus.

Smoked fish, cheese flower, broccoli—everything was mild, so it felt a touch bland.

But this level is pretty good.

The distinctive sharp, peppery fragrance of Galaxy Mary brushed the roof of his mouth and passed on; it was not enough to numb the tongue, so he could enjoy it as a pleasant aroma. Honey seemed to have given it a passing grade on that point as well.

The broccoli is cooked just right too. If it had gone longer it would have gone soggy and the texture would have been weird… and the unusually plump tomato softened and mashed nicely from the heat.

Broccoli, garlic, and tomato had all soaked up the spicy oil, so there was a moment when it seemed about to turn hot.

But just then the cheese flower that entered with them spread softer and silkier than the vegetables, soothing the tingle.

Especially the smoked fish, releasing the elegant fragrance of charred wood, made the whole thing even more harmonious.

"…I could put scallops in this…."

"Kku-wu?"

"Ah, yes, scallops won't be particularly spicy either."

Apparently the Sun God also found this level of heat tasty; he slyly pushed a baguette with sun-dried tomatoes toward Ji-oh. It was a request for a scallop version.

The moment he accepts a new opinion he wants to experiment—excellent pig qualities on display.

A baguette with sun-dried tomatoes. The tomatoes already possessed their own sweet-and-sour character from being dried in the sun. He skipped the oil-soaked ones and topped the bread with only broccoli, garlic, and scallops.

"Give it a try, and if it feels a bit hot, eat it with this cheese."

"Kku…."

Chomp.

Half the baguette vanished into the teddy bear's enormous mouth.

"……."

"……."

"Kkukkukku…."

The pleased laughter told him Ji-oh's choice had been satisfactory.

"……."

"Myaang."

"…You've got talent."

Dana and Honey had no hands, so he had worried a little, yet they managed just fine using mouths or paws to combine everything. Ji-oh nodded in pride as he watched his family start assembling their own meals without help.

"Hmm…."

Later he might try bread with dried figs too.

"Baking bread ahead of time really is best."

"Kku-wuuu."

"Exactly. In Edelon village this was everyday life."

Because it was a region where bread was the staple, even a seaside village had bakeries everywhere.

"Kku-wu?"

"Yes, plenty of households didn't have an oven."

"Kku?"

"In that case they used the communal village oven, or better-off families simply patronized the bakery. Anyway, bread was never missing whenever a meal was set."

"Kkukkukku."

"As you guessed, I preferred baking my own at home."

In Edelon, bread was like rice in Korea, so bakeries sold only the most basic loaves. Because dunking them in stew was the norm, almost no one sold versions with dried fruit or nuts.

"Baking it myself meant I could try all sorts of things. Sometimes I even put in minced sausage or fish. Edelon's seafood was high quality, so no matter how you used it, it was never hard to eat."

Remembering those days, motivation welled up.

"Yes, better to bake bread in advance."

"Kkurrrrrrr."

"Right. That way you can pull it out whenever the craving hits."

Since kneading and baking took so long, the people of Edelon would set aside a day, prepare a huge batch at once, and live on it for nearly a month.

Of course the bread hardened and dried out, but eating warm, moist bread every day was a privilege of the nobility… and anyway, hard dry bread dunked in stew was delicious in its own right.

In fact, dry, firm bread and a soupy stew made an excellent pair. Everyone ate that way, so restaurant stews came out a little too salty if you only drank the broth—exactly salty enough once the accompanying bread arrived.

But the advantage of this forest was that fully grown vegetables and cooked food never spoiled.

Even if he baked generously, the loaves would stay as if just out of the oven, so if he diligently stocked up he could nibble whenever he liked.

"Besides meal bread, if I baked other kinds too, that would be quite…."

"Alkong."

"Small round breads? Munchkin doughnuts sound good."

A little milk mixed into powdered sugar and brushed over the tops would make excellent glazed doughnuts. Ji-oh decided he should bake a few sweet ones as well.

"Now then, we use pasta here."

When he felt enough bread had been consumed, Ji-oh took out the pasta he had prepared in advance.

He placed the springy cooked noodles on his own plate, then added various vegetables, a few spoonfuls of oil, scallops, and the sausage Dana had brought.

"Cheese would make this tasty in its own way."

"Kkureuk."

"I'll give you some too, just wait. This has a lot of oil so it might be a bit spicier."

"Kkuk."

"You've gotten brave. Kids really do grow up in an instant…."

Ji-oh tossed the noodles in the hot oil until the temperature was right, then slurped a taste.

"Nice."

He was very pleased.

"It doesn't catch the oil's heat as well as bread, so this will probably be a little spicier. Just in case, eat it with cheese flowers."

"Kkurrrrrrr."

"Do you need any, Father?"

At Ji-oh's question the teddy bear shook its head. It had never tried noodles, but it still liked the bread and had no intention of switching. Ji-oh approved of that conviction.

He portioned some pasta for Dana, who was curious because Honey was eating it, then returned to his own plate.

"……."

Chew.

Still good.

The oil fragrance is stronger, so it's tingly too….

Ji-oh sprinkled a little more grated Galaxy Mary over his share. The intense aroma bloomed at once, and when he ate it with the spicy sausage the juices joined in and the flavor became outstanding.

Good thing I grilled the sausage once.

The moist meat inside the snappy casing chewed grain by grain, and the oil-slicked noodles added both flavor and texture, stoking the appetite.

Even eaten with the Club Trumpet Clams—which were being treated like scallops—it produced a completely different taste, so there was no chance of getting tired of it.

Ji-oh sipped the sweet Mangdung Fruit tea he had steeped earlier and spoke.

"…Haa…."

A satisfied sigh escaped on its own.

This was happiness.

(To be continued)