“Hey! What do you think you’re doing to another customer’s guest?”
“Customer, schmustomer! First come, first served!”
The atmosphere instantly turned tense.
“Does this kind of thing happen often?”
My father sighed.
“Competition’s fierce. It used to be even worse. There were even fistfights back in the day.”
We passed by the shops and headed deeper inside.
There were rows of huge refrigerator doors.
It was where the carcasses were stored.
A carcass, I was told, referred to the body of an animal after the intestines, hide, and head had been removed.
“That’s the carcass storage. Let’s go in and take a look.”
The Overwhelming Sight of the Carcass Storage
Thud!
As the heavy steel door opened, a blast of cold air hit us.
“Ugh… It’s freezing!”
“It’s kept at one or two degrees Celsius here. It’s the ideal temperature for storing meat.”
I was left speechless by the sight before my eyes.
Rails ran up to the ceiling.
Hundreds of cow carcasses hung from those rails.
Halved cattle lined up endlessly.
“Are all of these… from today?”
“Of course. We get this much every day.”
Red stamps marked each carcass.
Every one was covered with numbers and symbols.
“What are those stamps?”
“That’s the grade. 1++, 1+, 1, 2, and 3 grades. There’s also a yield grade.”
“People always think 1++ is the best, right?”
“Yeah, that’s because retail shops usually only show the quality grade.”
Standing before one carcass, my father explained.
“See here? It says 1+. If you look at the grading sheet, the yield is A. That means it’s a 1+ quality grade with an A yield grade.”
“It’s complicated.”
“You get used to it and can tell at a glance.”
Just then, two middle-aged men nearby were examining a carcass as they talked.
“This marbling’s kind of iffy, huh?”
“Yeah. Not great for a 1+. Which farm is this from?”
“Garim Farm. I heard they switched feed recently.”
My father spoke quietly.
“You have to know about the farms, too. Even for the same grade, there’s a difference depending on the farm.”
We kept walking, looking at the carcasses.
Each cow was different in size, color, and marbling pattern.
“Dad, why is that carcass so black?”
“Ah, that’s a Gyeongsanwoo. A cow that’s given birth.”
“Gyeongsanwoo? Do people buy meat that dark?”
“They do. It’s in demand for soup meat. The price is cheap, too.”
I reached out and touched one of the carcasses.
It felt cold and firm.
At that moment…
[Hanwoo Gyeongsanwoo – Grade 2]
Time since slaughter: 18 hours
Current freshness: 82/100
Marbling: ★☆☆☆☆
Juiciness: ★★☆☆☆
Tenderness: ★☆☆☆☆
Meat aroma: ★★★★☆
After 24 hours: Maintained
After 72 hours: Decline
Optimal aging: 1 day
Expected change: 5%
Best use: Soup/stock
Cooking temperature: Low, long time
Recommended cut: Cube
Note: Estimated 2 births, high collagen content
‘Ah, so that’s why it’s good for soup.’
“Junho, what do you see?”
“Well… it’s definitely different from regular Hanwoo.”
“Yeah. If you touch it, the muscle fibers are firmer.”
My father pointed at other cow carcasses as he continued.
“There are types of Hanwoo cows. Migyeongsanwoo, Gyeongsanwoo, Dasanwoo.”
“Migyeongsanwoo?”
“A cow that’s never calved. The most expensive. It has marbling as good as a steer, but with the unique tenderness of a cow.”
He pointed to one side.
“Look over there. See how the color’s different?”
It really was.
It was much brighter and more vivid than Gyeongsanwoo.
“Migyeongsanwoo is the best for grilling. But it’s hard to tell them apart, so sometimes people try to trick you.”
“So, what about this Gyeongsanwoo?”
“Gyeongsanwoo is usually a cow that’s given birth at least once. Even those that have given birth two or three times can have decent quality, but cows that have given birth more than three times are called Dasanwoo.”
My father tapped on the Gyeongsanwoo carcass.
“Gyeongsanwoo can be grilled, but it’s really for soup. Bone broth, galbitang… simmer it long enough and the collagen melts, giving a rich broth.”
Then, I saw a carcass in the corner with an even darker color.
“What’s that? It’s even blacker…”
“Ah, that’s Dasanwoo. One that’s given birth more than three times.”
My father’s expression turned bitter.
“Honestly, the taste isn’t great. Too many births, and the muscle and fat quality drops. But some people buy it because it’s cheap.”
“But Hanwoo is Hanwoo, right?”
“Well, yes… but the taste is different. Even if the grade is high, the flavor might not be good.”
Then my father added something important.
“Do you know what the most important thing is in running a butcher shop?”
“What is it?”
“Honesty. There are people who sell Gyeongsanwoo as Migyeongsanwoo, or Dasanwoo as Gyeongsanwoo. That’s not right.”
I nodded.
“So that’s why trustworthy suppliers are important.”
“Of course. Customers rely on us.”
Looking at the Gyeongsanwoo again, I thought to myself.
It looked like just a black slab of meat, but if used right, it was a treasure that could make the best broth.
‘Everything has its use.’
Migyeongsanwoo for grilling, Gyeongsanwoo for soup, and even Dasanwoo had value for customers who wanted the best price.
Just then, a man pushing a cart shouted from behind.
“Out of the way! Coming through!”
The cart was loaded with chunks of meat cut by part from carcasses.
“What’s that?”
“That’s primal cuts. The carcass has been divided into cuts by part. That’s how they go to each shop.”
We left the fridge and headed to another building.
This time, it was the auction house.
“This is where they mostly auction off pigs. They auction Hanwoo too, but sometimes suppliers handle it with direct contracts.”
“So how do regular butcher shop owners buy?”
“Either join the auction, or buy directly from a wholesaler who won the auction.”
Inside the circular auction house, the auction was already in full swing.
“Alright! Pig #128! 110 kilos! Starting at 4,800 won per kilo!”
“4,850!”
“4,900!”
“4,930!”
The auctioneer’s rapid-fire words and gestures.
The wholesalers raised their numbered paddles or pointed out their bids with their fingers, silently.
There was no shouting, but the atmosphere was intense.
“Do they really go that fast?”
“Time is money. They have to process thousands of animals a day.”
Outside the auction house, another scene unfolded.
“Hey! What was with the meat you sent yesterday? The customer complained it was tough!”
“No way! That was grade 1 Hanwoo!”
“Grade 1, my foot! Look at this! I brought a photo!”
People arguing, holding up their phones.
“Does that happen a lot?”
“They fight over quality issues. That’s why trustworthy suppliers matter.”
My father pointed to a building.
“That’s the direct sales market. Meat brought straight from the farm.”
“Isn’t that better?”
“Not always. There’s a reason for middlemen.”
Inside, farmers were setting up booths themselves.
“Hoengseong Hanwoo! Cheap because it’s direct!”
“Pure Jeju Black Pig! Come taste it!”
A farmer recognized my father.
“Mr. Jeong! How about our farm’s Hanwoo?”
“When was it slaughtered?”
“Last night. Still fresh!”
My father examined the meat carefully.
“The marbling is nice, but… the color’s a bit dark?”
“The cow was a little stressed at slaughter… but I guarantee the taste!”
My father shook his head.
“Stressed cows make for tougher meat. Sorry.”
The farmer’s face darkened.
“Aw, it’s not that bad…”
“Sorry. Maybe next time.”
As we stepped outside, my father explained.
“Pre-slaughter stress directly affects meat quality. If a cow gets stressed, lactic acid builds up in the muscle, making the meat tough and dark. That’s how you get black meat.”
“You have to pay attention to even that…”
“Of course. Customers trust us.”
I checked the time—it was already past five.
But the market was even livelier now.
“Now, let’s get serious.”
My father headed to his regular wholesaler.
“From here on is the real deal. I’ll show you how to pick the best meat.”
I was thrilled.
How well would my ability work in this market?
More than anything, I was fascinated by this huge ecosystem.
Every dawn, meat from all over the country gathered and spread out from here.
It was a sight unimaginable in 2157.
*****
“This is it. Our regular supplier.”
[Hanseong Livestock – Hanwoo Specialist Since 1987]
The old signboard had an air of dignity.
“Choi Sajang! I’m here!”
As my father pushed open the door, a middle-aged man with a half-bald head greeted him warmly.
“Ah, Jeong Sajang! Brought your son today?”
“Yeah, time he started learning.”
“Good call. These days, young folks don’t want to do this kind of work.”
Choi Sajang pointed to the back fridge.
“Got some good stuff in today. Hanwoo from the Kim family’s farm in Anseong.”
“The Kim family? They’re reliable.”
“Of course. Been regulars for twenty years. No antibiotics, and they blend their own feed.”
We went into the fridge.
A dozen carcasses hung there.
“These just came in this morning. Slaughtered yesterday afternoon.”
My father started inspecting the carcasses one by one.
“This one’s 1++. Good marbling… This one’s 1+ grade…”
Choi Sajang pulled out a tablet and showed us.
“Here’s the records. Identification number, birth date, farm, slaughter date… everything’s here.”
“Things are so convenient these days. Used to have to call and check for everything.”
My father stopped in front of the 1++ grade.
“How much for this one?”
“25,000 won per kilo. I’ll give it to you 1,000 cheaper than today’s market.”
“How about 23,000?”
“Ah, Jeong Sajang, that’s too much. You know it’s top quality.”
I quietly looked over the carcasses.
As I touched one, information popped up.
[Hanwoo Sirloin – Grade 1++]
Time since slaughter: 20 hours
Current freshness: 88/100
Marbling: ★★★★★
Juiciness: ★★★★☆
Tenderness: ★★★★☆
Meat aroma: ★★★☆☆
After 24 hours: Maintained
After 72 hours: Maintained
Optimal aging: 5 days
Expected change: 10%
Best use: Steak
Cooking temperature: Medium
Recommended cut: 30mm
‘Not bad… but not all that special for the price.’
Just then, a carcass in the corner caught my eye.
According to the grading label, it was grade 1.
The moment I touched it…
[Hanwoo – Grade 1]
Time since slaughter: 22 hours
Current freshness: 85/100
Marbling: ★★☆☆☆
Juiciness: ★★★☆☆
Tenderness: ★★☆☆☆
Meat aroma: ★★★★☆
After 24 hours: Improves
After 72 hours: Improves
Optimal aging: 3 days
Expected change: 35%
Best use: Steak/Grill
Cooking temperature: Medium
Recommended cut: 25mm
Note: Hidden intramuscular fat, on the borderline for grade change
‘Huh? Ohh? Isn’t this a real hidden gem?’
I went closer for a better look.
It looked like an ordinary grade 1 from the outside, but the muscle grain was unusual.
“Dad, take a look at this grade 1.”
My father approached slowly.
“Why? What’s up?”
“This grade 1. There’s something special about it.”
“Grade 1? Nah, that one doesn’t have much marbling…”
He waved his hand dismissively.
“No, if you touch it, the springiness—”
I pressed it lightly with my finger.
It definitely felt different from a normal grade 1.
Firm yet bouncy.
Choi Sajang sidled over.
“Ah, that one? It’s a tricky case. Even the inspector couldn’t decide.”
“Couldn’t decide?”
“He hesitated for a while between 1+ and 1, but ended up giving it grade 1.”
‘Bingo! My skills are as sharp as ever!’
“Dad, let’s buy this one!”
“What? A grade 1?”
My father looked troubled.
“You brat, you don’t just pick meat like that.”
“I’m not just picking randomly, really…”
At that moment, a disgruntled voice rang out from the next fridge.
“Hey, Choi Sajang! That grade 1 I bought last week was a total disaster!”
Another butcher was fuming.
“The customer wanted a refund, said it was tough! Never been so humiliated in 30 years!”
Damn, why is the timing always like this…
My father’s face hardened.
“See? There’s always a reason for lower grades.”
Choi Sajang chimed in.
“That’s right. These days, customers post everything on social media. ‘Junho’s Butcher Shop has tough meat,’ and that’s it.”
But my conviction didn’t waver.
“Dad! Please, just trust me this once!”
“Hey…”
“If it doesn’t sell, I’ll eat it all! Beef for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!”
“Kid, how are you going to eat half a cow on your own?”
I realized I’d gone too far.
“No, I mean… I’m really confident. If we age this meat, it’ll be better than 1++.”
My father sighed.
“Choi Sajang, how much for this one?”
“It’s grade 1, so 17,500 per kilo.”
“That’s too expensive for a grade 1.”
“But it’s from the Kim family farm. Good bloodline.”
I examined the meat more closely.
I could see tiny specks of fat hidden between the muscle fibers.
‘In 72 hours, that’ll melt and spread out…’
Choi Sajang scratched his head.
My father looked at me with clear dissatisfaction.
“Are you really… sure?”
I touched the meat again.