Sihoo’s eyes widened as he checked the flood of texts from Hayoon.
[Photo]
[Next door got hit with a health inspection. It’s bad.]
[Photo 2]
[Saw it on Instagram and couldn’t believe it. They ran their place like that and badmouthed us?]
[Photo 3]
Sihoo sighed, shaking his head at the images. Like high school lessons taught, a restaurant shunned by customers falls apart. He tossed his phone aside, reading the notes on his table:
- Put heart into food for people.
- Infuse food with care for others.
- Food is medicine.
These three principles guided Sihoo’s cooking, whether Korean or Western, always pouring care into every dish for 56804’s customers. He added a fourth:
- Never forget the heart of cooking.
Click. Sihoo brainstormed new menu items to test at home. Heading to the basement field for ingredients, he found clear weather. Chirp. A strange bird-like sound echoed as he entered, basket in hand, harvesting crops.
His mind wasn’t at ease. Someone must be tending these crops. Animal cries, rustling leaves, and faint footsteps filled the air. Sigh. He gathered pumpkin-like crops, spinach, green onions, and chili-like plants, pausing at a sound. “Huh?”
Following it, he heard waves. Crash. Memories of the sea, absent since his parents’ passing, stirred his heart. Thump, thump. Curiosity drove him to confirm if it was real or a hallucination. Past the field, a low hill appeared. Smiling, he thought, A light hike.
At the hill’s peak, a cool breeze tousled his hair. Opening his eyes, he gasped. A sparkling blue sea stretched before him, waves crashing clearly. Laughter escaped him. The field was one thing, but seafood too? He imagined shrimp, clams, abalone, octopus, squid. If only I had the manpower… but this is another world.
Roar! A massive creature breached the sea. Sihoo squinted. A whale? Its size dwarfed him, like three small villas combined. Splash. Waves rose high, even from his distance. “Those waves are huge,” he muttered, chuckling. “No way I’m going in there.”
The sea’s beauty was a treasure he’d revisit for a break, but bringing Hayoon or Kanghoon seemed impossible—Hayoon had said the basement door wasn’t visible at the house. Harvesting more crops, Sihoo spotted a large four-leaf clover among them. Didn’t pick this… why’s it here? Big leaves, though. He set it aside and began testing new dishes.
Chop, sizzle, boil. As he tasted his creations, the doorbell rang. Ding. Rushing to the gate, he called, “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Hayoon said, stepping in.
“Perfect timing,” Sihoo said.
“Caught you testing new dishes, huh?” Hayoon grinned.
“Half right,” Sihoo replied.
“Let’s talk inside.”
Sihoo served barley tea. “Thanks. Check this out,” Hayoon said, handing over a yellow envelope. It contained a list of takeout container suppliers. Sihoo was stunned. “When did you do this?”
Hayoon munched on a pancake. “Figured you’d be swamped when school starts. What’s this pancake? It’s good.”
“Pumpkin pancake—grated pumpkin, vegetables, and a bit of batter. How is it?” Sihoo asked.
“Crispy, savory. Better than regular pancakes,” Hayoon said, eyeing Sihoo’s bag. “What’s in there?”
“Samples,” Hayoon said, showing eco-friendly containers.
“Let’s test them with the new dishes—check if food stays warm and tastes right,” Sihoo suggested, heading to the kitchen.
He packed trial dishes into the containers and set them before Hayoon. “Play royal taster, hyung.”
Hayoon’s eyes sparkled at the spread, recalling Sihoo’s parents. One container held bite-sized ssam wraps. Crunch. “These are amazing,” Hayoon said.
“Right? My parents loved them. We packed them for our last family trip,” Sihoo said, his eyes tinged with sadness.
“Really?” Hayoon said softly, understanding the memory’s weight.
Sihoo slid another container forward. “Bulgogi meal set. Try it.”
Hayoon admired the neatly arranged bulgogi, sides separated to avoid mixing. He ate eagerly, noting on a sheet:
- Taste: 1 (bad) to 5 (great)
- Container convenience: 1 (inconvenient) to 5 (convenient)
- Container odor: 1 (strong) to 5 (none)
He’s thought deeply about food and packaging, Hayoon realized, impressed. Finishing, he sipped tea Sihoo offered. “What’s this?”
“Ginger-yuzu tea. You ate a lot, so I thought it’d help digestion,” Sihoo said.
Hayoon nodded. “You’re something else.” Sihoo’s knack for reading people—those wanting light or hearty meals, or eating despite discomfort—astounded him. Customers always said, “The food’s full of care.” Hayoon knew the effort it took to tailor dishes like that, yet Sihoo never complained, enjoying the process. It was admirable.
Sip. “This tea’s tangy yet sweet. Thanks,” Hayoon said.
“I’m the grateful one. I was thinking about finding suppliers, and you did it,” Sihoo said.
“Gotta help each other,” Hayoon replied, finishing the tea. “Next door’s closing for good.”
“Saw your photos. Made me want to work harder,” Sihoo said.
“I’m gonna clean the dining area even better,” Hayoon added.
Sihoo nodded, standing to see him off. “Take this,” he said, handing over a paper bag. “Made extra, packed in those containers. Share with your family.”
“When’d you do this?” Hayoon asked.
“While cooking. Oh, and I’m planning 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. for the diner,” Sihoo said.
“So, afternoon classes?” Hayoon asked.
“Yeah, the department head gave me a professor schedule for course registration,” Sihoo said.
“Nice. I’ll shift my classes to afternoons too,” Hayoon said.
Sihoo’s heart warmed—Hayoon was rearranging his final year for him. Reading his expression, Hayoon lifted the bag. “I’m off. Don’t follow.”
“Okay,” Sihoo said, smiling. Hayoon dialed someone, grinning at the bag. “Hello?”