Chapter 13:
The Royal Chef (2)
“For a fair competition, we shall provide the same ingredients to both chefs.”
The cooking contest was just about to begin.
A large fish was placed right in front of Ji-yeong’s eyes.
A similar-sized fish of the same type was also placed in front of the royal chef, Jeon Se-ho, who stood beside her.
“The cooking time is one gak (about 30 minutes). The rule is to complete a royal meal using this ingredient within that time.”
Judging by the established procedures, it seemed that cooking contests were a common occurrence in the royal kitchen.
After all, whether in the Joseon era or now, our country has always been obsessed with exams.
It wouldn’t make sense if they didn’t test the skills of new chefs when selecting them for the royal kitchen.
This contest was essentially an extension of that.
However, there was one very big difference this time.
The person judging the contest would be completely different from usual.
“…You’ve really followed me all the way here.”
Across from Ji-yeong and Jeon Se-ho, the two competitors facing off, sat Yeonsangun with a smile on his face.
“How could I miss such an entertaining spectacle?”
Seated beside him was Eunuch Yun, the doseolli (an official in charge of food ingredients) of the Saongwon.
He was the practical administrator handling the miscellaneous administrative tasks of the royal kitchen.
And seated on the opposite side was a man with a cold face that seemed impenetrable even by a needle—the Ijo Champan, Sung Hee-an.
“Why on earth is that stubborn nobleman here…?”
She couldn’t help but wonder why he of all people was present, but a moment’s thought made it understandable.
The royal kitchen belonged to the Saongwon, which managed ingredients, and the Saongwon was under the jurisdiction of the Ijo.
So, it wasn’t absurd for Ijo Champan Sung Hee-an to be attending this event.
Therefore, the judges for this cooking duel were Yeonsangun, Eunuch Yun the doseolli of the Saongwon, and Ijo Champan Sung Hee-an.
“Now then, let the royal kitchen’s cooking contest begin.”
With Eunuch Yun’s clear voice, the sound of the jeong (a gong used in the palace) rang out, echoing throughout the royal kitchen to signal the start of the cooking.
Ji-yeong quickly examined the fish in front of her.
It was about two handspans in size,
with deep grayish-blue scales on its back and a bright silvery belly that stood out.
“It’s mullet! A staple on ancestral rite tables and banquet spreads in the Joseon era, and a representative fish that often appeared on the royal table.”
That’s why in Chinese characters, mullet is written as ‘崇魚’ (revered fish) or ‘秀魚’ (preeminent fish).
The moment Ji-yeong saw the mullet, she could immediately tell.
What the royal chef intended to make with this mullet.
“As the grandson of Jeon Sun-ui, the author of Sangayorok, he must be planning to use a recipe from that book.”
For Ji-yeong, a modern person who had memorized all the recipes in that book, predicting what it would be wasn’t difficult.
“It has to be eomandu!”
Eomandu.
A top-tier Joseon dish that used thinly sliced fish fillet instead of wheat flour dough for the dumpling wrapper.
It not only graced ordinary royal meals but also banquets for foreign envoys, eliciting admiration for its exquisite technique.
The mullet, with its firm and resilient flesh, was perfect for eomandu.
But without advanced skills, one couldn’t even attempt it.
“Slicing the fish fillet thin enough to use as a wrapper requires tremendous expertise from the start.”
So, in this contest where the highest cooking skills needed to be showcased, there was no way the opponent wouldn’t display that talent.
Sure enough.
When Ji-yeong glanced sideways, the royal chef was already skillfully deboning the mullet and slicing it so thinly that the other side was visible.
In a unique method, he dusted the thinly sliced mullet like sashimi with starch, added the filling, and rolled it round as if clothing it with the fish fillet.
Dusting the surface with starch again and steaming it would complete the eomandu.
This was a distinctive Joseon recipe with few parallels in other countries, often cited as a research example among modern culinary scholars.
Ji-yeong stared blankly for a moment at the scene where that very recipe was being recreated right before her eyes, then shook her head to regain her focus.
“Get it together! I can’t just stand here watching.”
She had to prove that she had the skill to make a dish comparable to eomandu.
Using common methods like simply grilling or steaming the mullet wouldn’t properly demonstrate her ability.
“I need to show something they’ve never experienced before!”
It wasn’t that no recipes came to Ji-yeong’s mind.
In the sense of using fish fillet to create a unique form, it could be said to be similar to eomandu.
A specialty from Lyon, the city called the gastronomic capital even in France.
Quenelle de brochet.
A French-style fish dumpling made from pike caught in the Rhone River, Lyon’s lifeline.
“It’s renowned among French dishes for requiring delicate and precise skill.”
That’s why it’s the devilish dish that drives countless culinary school students to despair.
Without modern cooking tools, it would be a bit laborious, but it wasn’t impossible if she made good use of the items in the royal kitchen.
Ji-yeong quickly scaled the mullet and filleted the flesh.
Speed was more important than filleting it neatly and prettily.
“After all, I’m going to grind it all up anyway.”
– Thwack thwack thwack thwack
After roughly chopping the filleted mullet flesh on the cutting board with a knife, Ji-yeong fetched a stone mortar from the corner of the royal kitchen and put the chopped flesh inside.
Then, using a wooden pestle, she began pressing and mashing the mullet flesh.
Her arms soon ached as if they might fall off, but she couldn’t stop pounding until she achieved the desired texture.
“In a modern restaurant kitchen, this would be simply done with a commercial food processor…”
How long had she been pounding?
When the fish flesh was mashed to a porridge-like consistency, Ji-yeong mixed in eggs, milk, flour, and so on, then put it back into the mortar and mashed it finely once more.
“The finer the particles in this paste, the more chewy and elastic the texture will be.”
Ji-yeong placed the paste on a fine sieve and rubbed it through with a spatula as if squeezing it out.
Soon, the paste poured smoothly like silk into the bowl below.
“Now, all that’s left is to shape it.”
Ji-yeong scooped a bit of the paste and, using two spoons, rotated it to form a large almond shape.
“Boil it thoroughly like this, then brown it nicely in a pan, and it’s done.”
Glancing at the royal chef cooking beside her, he too was at the stage where his shaped eomandu just needed to be steamed to completion.
While the quenelle cooked, it was time to make the sauce.
There was a sauce that paired perfectly with it, like a match made in heaven. That was,
“…Nantua sauce.”
An orange-hued sauce named after a small town northeast of Lyon.
The key to that sauce was the unique flavor from mixing in crayfish.
But there was no way crayfish would be in the royal kitchen right now.
“In that case, I can use the closest substitute.”
Even if it wasn’t exactly the same, recreating a similar flavor would blend excellently.
With that thought, what Ji-yeong had spotted among the ingredients in the royal kitchen was,
Mantis shrimp from the southern coast.
“It has a flavor somewhere between shrimp and crayfish.”
By grinding the mantis shrimp with its innards and simmering it creamily in milk, she could recreate the unique flavor of Nantua sauce.
– Sizzle
Ji-yeong lightly fried the boiled quenelle in the pan as if sautéing it, skillfully plated it, and generously drizzled the mantis shrimp Nantua sauce over it.
The completed dish.
[Mullet Quenelle with Mantis Shrimp Nantua Sauce]
“That’s it!”
At that very moment, with Eunuch Yun’s clear voice, the gong sounded throughout the royal kitchen, signaling the end of the cooking.
…
“Oh, impressive. How beautiful.”
Before long, two plates were placed side by side in front of where Yeonsangun sat.
One was the mullet eomandu made by the royal chef, Jeon Se-ho.
The other was the mullet quenelle made by Ji-yeong.
Yeonsangun’s eyes were already shimmering faintly with anticipation of tasting the new dish.
“Then… I shall taste the eomandu made by the royal chef first.”
Yeonsangun reached his chopsticks toward the eomandu.
Even before eating, it already elicited admiration for its unique appearance, with the fish fillet sliced as thin as paper wrapping the contents.
The beautiful shape was secondary; it was a level that couldn’t be imitated without tremendous skill.
“If the thickness of the fish fillet isn’t uniform, the thinner parts will burst during steaming. So, achieving such a perfect form is impossible without highly refined technique.”
Ji-yeong couldn’t help but inwardly click her tongue at that skill.
There wasn’t a single flaw in the way the thin fish fillet translucently enveloped the contents.
After admiring the shape for a while, Yeonsangun finally dipped the eomandu lightly in mustard vinegar sauce and put it in his mouth.
A moment later,
“Mmm…”
A low moan-like sigh escaped.
The thin fish fillet wrapper coated in starch, and the filling inside—minced meat, shiitake mushrooms, stir-fried cucumber, bean sprouts, and more—burst forth all at once, filling the mouth with juices.
The more he chewed, the more the rich and varied flavors harmonized.
“Indeed, worthy of being called the finest dish of Joseon.”
Yeonsangun swallowed the eomandu with an expression of renewed admiration.
Beside him, Eunuch Yun the doseolli, with his picky expression, was also busily chewing and checking the state of the eomandu.
“The texture of the wrapper made from mullet fillet is excellent, and each element of the filling inside has been cooked just right.”
Ijo Champan Sung Hee-an also slowly savored the taste and nodded.
“The cooking method adheres precisely to the standards without the slightest deviation—accurate and superb skill.”
“Truly, befitting the royal chef of this nation.”
“I am deeply honored.”
At Yeonsangun’s praise, the royal chef Jeon Se-ho clasped his hands and bowed his head.
It was undoubtedly eomandu of the highest quality.
Ji-yeong could tell that just from looking at the faces of the three evaluators.
“…But that’s still within the expected range.”
The food Yeonsangun was about to eat next would be beyond the imagination permitted by this era and place.
“Next, it’s time to taste the dish made by that woman.”
Yeonsangun picked up a piece of the mullet quenelle drizzled with the amber-colored mantis shrimp Nantua sauce and examined it curiously from various angles for a while.
“Oh, a dish I’ve never seen in my life. What on earth is this?”
At Yeonsangun’s words, Ji-yeong explained in a calm, measured tone.
“It is called ‘quenelle de brochet,’ a renowned local specialty from a region in the West renowned as the pinnacle of gastronomy.”
“Qu-quenelle… bro…? What?”
Yeonsangun repeated the unfamiliar words several times, finding them novel as they didn’t roll off the tongue easily.
“It is a dish made by finely grinding mullet flesh, shaping it, and cooking it.”
“Hah, what a bizarre method.”
After examining it with his eyes for a while, Yeonsangun slowly placed a piece of the quenelle coated in the amber sauce into his mouth.
And the moment he bit into it.
His eyebrows twitched strangely in spasm.
“Oooh! This… this texture!”
Already, Yeonsangun’s fingertips were trembling.
