Chapter 5:
Sous-Vide (1)
“Come here!”
A booming voice echoed from beyond the main gate.
As the gate swung open, the Im family’s retainers stood outside, puffing out their chests as if they themselves were high-ranking officials. Behind them, two men clad in vibrant silk robes appeared—Im Sa-hong and his son, Im Sung-jae.
“What are you all dawdling for? The lord has arrived—move quickly!”
“We’ve been expecting you. Please, come inside.”
Deok-chul, the government slave of the Gyeonggi Provincial Office, greeted the Im father and son with an ingratiating manner, ushering them inside.
As they stepped into the guest quarters, Hong Eon-guk, dressed in formal attire, was already there to receive them.
“You’ve arrived. Hong Eon-guk, humble clerk of the Gyeonggi Provincial Office, pays his respects to the Minister of Public Works and the Chief State Councilor.”
While Hong Eon-guk bowed deeply, his forehead nearly touching the ground, Im Sa-hong and Im Sung-jae stood with hands clasped behind their backs, accepting the bow with haughty airs.
“How is your father’s health?”
“Thanks to Your Excellency’s concern, he is always in good spirits. Please, this way.”
They were led to a pavilion in the garden attached to the provincial office, where gisaeng courtesans were already plucking the soft strings of a gayageum, creating an elegant atmosphere. Waiting there was an elderly man with graying hair, who rose and greeted them respectfully.
It was Hong Eon-guk’s father, Hong Gwi-dal, the Gyeonggi Provincial Governor responsible for the region’s administration.
“You’ve gone to great trouble coming all this way, esteemed guests from the court. Please, take a seat.”
“Trouble? It’s hardly an hour’s journey—calling it trouble might offend those lords sent off to distant exile,” Im Sung-jae quipped with a boisterous laugh, his jest bordering on rudeness.
Despite the young Im Sung-jae’s flippant remark to a second-rank provincial governor, Hong Gwi-dal could only let out a hearty chuckle to brush it off.
“Hahaha, the Chief State Councilor’s wit remains as sharp as ever. Please, sit. You there, what are you doing? Bring out the table at once!”
“Yes, my lord.”
Soon, female slaves brought out a light refreshment table to serve before the main meal.
In no time, Hong Gwi-dal and Hong Eon-guk sat across from Im Sa-hong and Im Sung-jae in the pavilion, facing each other.
“By the way, His Majesty is quite concerned. It’s been some time since the royal decree to cordon off the ten-li radius outside the capital’s walls to create a hunting ground and bar commoners’ entry. Yet, on our way here, we saw people who still haven’t left.”
At Im Sa-hong’s words, Hong Gwi-dal’s white eyebrows twitched.
Tearing down the homes of commoners and driving them out just to make a hunting ground on the king’s whim—could such an order even be justified? With a capricious king, delaying and dragging things out might lead him to change his mind. There was no need to rush. That had been Hong Gwi-dal’s reasoning for putting off the task.
“The lowly commoners, scraping by day to day, likely haven’t received the order clearly. They have their livelihoods to consider, so they’ll leave in their own time. I humbly ask Your Excellency to convey this well to His Majesty.”
“Hmph, it almost sounds like the governor is taking His Majesty’s orders lightly.”
“How could I dare? I beg Your Excellency to retract such words.”
Though his tone remained courteous, Hong Gwi-dal couldn’t hide the flush rising to his face.
These men are cunningly trying to frame me for defying royal orders.
He was suppressing his displeasure and responding as diplomatically as possible when Im Sung-jae, sitting opposite with narrowed eyes, took up the conversation with a piercing gaze.
“There’s a rumor circulating in the capital that the governor might harbor disloyal thoughts toward His Majesty. Of course, we know you’d never do such a thing, but can we control how the world misinterprets?”
As Im Sung-jae finished with a cryptic smile, a chill ran down Hong Eon-guk’s spine.
“What do you mean by that…?”
“To avoid such misunderstandings, don’t you think some proof is necessary? They say there’s nothing better than a person to prove one’s loyalty.”
“A person…?”
“I heard you have a young daughter…”
Hong Eon-guk’s face turned as pale as paper.
This was exactly what he had feared most.
His daughter becoming a target for chae-hong.
Chae-hong—the selection of women to be offered to the king.
And the one in charge of this task, the chae-hong-sa (envoy for selecting women), was none other than Im Sung-jae.
The targets of chae-hong ranged from noble ladies to courtesans, regardless of status.
Those chosen to enter the palace to entertain the king with music and festivities were called heung-cheong. The phrase heung-cheong mang-cheong (reckless debauchery) originated from this very practice.
Rumor had it that once a woman was selected for the palace, she could never leave again, doomed to become a plaything for a brutal king.
What father would want to consign his daughter to such a cruel fate?
Whether aware of Hong Eon-guk’s anguish or not, Sung-jae continued to wield his serpent-like tongue.
“If the daughter of Lord Hong serves His Majesty, how could anyone in the realm doubt your loyalty? Isn’t that so?”
“Please, I beg you to retract such words. She’s still a child, barely weaned from her mother’s milk.”
Hong Eon-guk spoke politely, but his heart was burning inside.
I need to stay sharp from now on.
…
“Hey, is this really going to work?”
Bong Seon-dal, with an anxious look, kept peering into the cauldron.
“I heard the guests coming today are that notorious Im father and son from the capital… If this isn’t done properly, we might really be in for it. Do you even know who those people are?”
Half-listening to Bong Seon-dal’s fussing, Ji-yeong was fully focused, her hand submerged in the cauldron’s water.
“Are you listening to me?”
“I’m listening, so please pour in one more ladle of water.”
Grumbling, Bong Seon-dal did as Ji-yeong instructed, scooping water with a ladle and pouring it into the cauldron.
“Is this enough?”
“Yes, it’s almost done.”
With her sleeves rolled up and her hand in the hot water, beads of sweat glistened on Ji-yeong’s forehead.
The secret cooking method Ji-yeong was attempting.
When she realized they had no choice but to use the tough old bull’s meat, this was the first method that came to her mind.
A technique known in the modern world as sous-vide.
Sous-vide, French for “under vacuum,” refers to a method of cooking ingredients at a low temperature in a vacuum-sealed environment.
The ingredients are placed in a plastic bag, sealed with the air removed, and cooked in water at around 55 degrees Celsius for an extended period.
“But why in the world are we cooking the meat in such a bizarre way? At least explain what we’re doing!”
Bong Seon-dal, unable to hold back, threw out the question brusquely.
“Well, it’s… kind of complicated, but it’s to make the meat tender.”
Lacking confidence to explain the principle to someone from the Joseon era in a way they’d understand, Ji-yeong trailed off vaguely.
Cooking meat means altering its proteins at specific temperatures.
Meat proteins primarily consist of actin and myosin.
Around 50 degrees, myosin begins to react, making the meat tender.
But if the temperature exceeds 65 degrees, the remaining protein, actin, coagulates, causing the meat to toughen again.
Theoretically, heating at the intermediate temperature—around 55 degrees—would cook the meat to its most tender state.
However, with tools like direct flame or frying pans, maintaining such precise temperatures is impossible.
There’s only one way to heat meat accurately.
Using water to transfer heat.
If you place the meat in water maintained at a consistent temperature and give it enough time, the meat will cook exactly to that water’s temperature.
This is the core principle of sous-vide cooking.
The best way to tenderize the poor-quality ingredients at hand.
If she could cook sous-vide at exactly 55 degrees, even tough bull meat could be transformed into something tender.
But that method was, for now, only theoretically possible.
There’s nothing here—no heating device, no plastic bags for vacuum sealing, not even a thermometer…
Yet, there was a way.
What came to Ji-yeong’s mind was a technique from Mangunrok.
Wrapping the ingredients in hanji paper.
Oil-coated hanji wrapped in layers can substitute for a plastic bag.
This way, the hanji clings tightly to the ingredients, creating a vacuum effect, while the oil prevents the paper from absorbing moisture and tearing.
In other words, oil-coated paper could serve as a substitute for vacuum-sealed plastic bags.
That’s why she’d asked the slave girl for hanji and coated it with sesame oil earlier.
But even if I’ve solved the plastic bag issue, there’s still a major challenge.
The most critical element of sous-vide is maintaining a consistent water temperature.
Without a sous-vide machine or even a thermometer, how could she keep the water at 55 degrees?
Yet, Ji-yeong had a plan for this too.
There are temperatures you can know without a thermometer: the boiling point of water at 100 degrees and, though less precise, the room temperature of water at around 20 degrees.
Creating water at 100 degrees and 20 degrees wasn’t too difficult.
And another thing she knew: when waters of different temperatures are mixed, they reach an equilibrium at an intermediate temperature.
So-called thermal equilibrium.
In theory, mixing boiling water at 100 degrees with water at 20 degrees would result in an equilibrium around 60 degrees.
This assumes equal volumes of water.
By adjusting the amounts—adding a bit more cold water—she could achieve a lower equilibrium, closer to 55 degrees.
This way, I can at least get water close to 55 degrees!
But setting the water temperature once isn’t the end.
The most critical part of sous-vide is maintaining that temperature without letting it rise or fall for a long time.
From there, she had to rely on one thing alone.
This was no longer science but the realm of instinct.
I have to trust my memory of 55-degree water, honed through countless sous-vide experiences.
A temperature that’s warm but not scalding hot.
She had no choice but to keep checking it with her fingertips, relying on her memory of that temperature.
“I don’t fully understand what you’re saying, but since we’ve decided to trust you, we’ll see it through to the end…”
Muttering, Bong Seon-dal faithfully assisted Ji-yeong.
Having started the sous-vide process since morning, it had already been over three hours.
As Ji-yeong checked the water temperature every five minutes, a servant girl came rushing in, flustered.
“Uh, um… the lord says to prepare the dining trays now.”
“Alright. Tell him we’ll bring them soon.”
It was finally time to check the results of the long sous-vide process.
Ji-yeong carefully lifted the bundle from the lukewarm water and unwrapped the oil-coated hanji.
What slowly emerged was a piece of meat cooked to a deep brown.
As she sliced it with a sharp knife, the cross-section revealed a tender, pink interior, glistening beautifully.
Whew… It’s a success.
The color alone told Ji-yeong instinctively.
The sous-vide cooking had been completed successfully.
A faint smile spread across her face, but it was too early to relax.
The dish wasn’t finished yet.
Her eyes sparkled once more.
Now the real work begins.
…
Author’s Note
The inspiration for the sous-vide cooking in the Joseon era comes from a dish called Jeonchisu (whole pheasant head) described in the 1868 book Jinchanyigwe. It involves wrapping pheasant meat in wet hanji paper and cooking it on a grill with indirect heat.
