Chapter 29
In my previous life as a chef...
I learned one thing after serving countless customers.
What is the most direct and reliable weapon for tearing down the wall around someone’s heart?
If someone asked me that...
I would answer without hesitation.
Food.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.
And clothes become soaked by even a light drizzle if it continues long enough.
People’s hearts don’t change overnight.
But if they experience irresistible, unbelievable food every single day...
Their hearts will slowly become mine.
Slowly...
But surely...
I’ll make them addicted to my cooking.
Until one day...
They completely trust me!
With that thought...
I looked into the large wooden bowl containing the secret weapon for my first Trust-raising project.
Of course, it would be perfect if I had better ingredients.
Every day in this wilderness left me wanting more.
But there was nothing I could do.
Once potatoes made us enough money, I could buy more ingredients.
For now...
I had potatoes.
Wild Manong, which resembled garlic.
Salt.
Pepper.
Sugar.
Cooking oil.
That was everything.
Zakan’s hunting group had returned empty-handed today.
We didn’t have even a palm-sized piece of meat.
But I have this.
My gaze fell on the carefully dried and peeled Wild Manong bulbs.
Their clean white flesh looked exactly like premium six-clove garlic from my previous life.
Peeking clearly said they were poisonous.
But once Gamjadori used its skill...
They were simply delicious garlic.
My mouth watered at the thought of tasting garlic again.
I wiped my lips.
Then quickly began cutting potatoes into thick sticks.
Tap-tap-tap!
The D-Rank Potatoes, twice as filling and enhanced in flavor, were quickly cut into even pieces beneath my skilled knife.
I rinsed the potato sticks in cold water several times.
This removed the starch from the surface.
If starch remains, the potatoes stick together in the oil and become soggy.
Then I wrapped them in clean cloth.
I dried them completely.
Frying begins with a war against moisture.
Once the oil in the iron pot reached the correct temperature...
I carefully lowered in the potatoes.
SSSSSSS!
Small bubbles rose.
The inside of the potatoes slowly cooked until soft and fluffy.
I removed the first batch.
Let them cool slightly.
Then added more firewood to raise the oil temperature.
The potatoes went back in.
CRACKLE!
Moisture disappeared from the surface.
A crisp outer layer formed.
The famous double-frying technique.
Meaning...
You fry them twice.
Of course, people say even an eraser would taste good if deep-fried.
These potatoes would already taste incredible with only salt and sugar.
But today, the real secret is the sauce.
I poured a little oil into a round iron pot.
Then dumped in a mountain of finely minced Wild Manong.
The sharpness and aroma were probably three times stronger than normal garlic from a supermarket.
Still... Goblin Armpit Grass?
Whoever gave this delicious, wonderfully pungent Manong such an insulting name...
I would kick them in the ass if I ever met them.
The instant the Manong touched the hot oil...
Its harsh rawness faded.
A rich garlic-like aroma spread throughout the village.
Then...
“I-I-Izak! What are you doing?!”
Malko came charging toward me while holding his nose.
“We’re going to die! The whole village smells like Goblin Armpit!”
“Be quiet.”
“Stop...!”
Malko looked horrified.
“Are you trying to kill every barbarian in the Rock Tribe? Cough!”
What nonsense is he talking about?
If smelling garlic killed people...
Koreans would have visited the afterlife five thousand times each.
“Kuhhh!”
Malko twisted dramatically.
“P-Poison entering body! AAAAAH! Chief! Chieeeeeef! Rock Tribe is dying!”
Ignoring his nonsense...
I kept frying the Manong.
Eventually...
Malko screamed and ran away in the opposite direction.
“...”
Seriously.
What do I even do with that idiot?
I shook my head.
Then looked back at the pot.
Perfect timing.
Oh.
Nicely browned.
The Manong had absorbed the oil.
It turned lightly golden.
“Sniff... haa.”
I deeply inhaled the scent of home.
Then tasted a little.
“Khh...”
My eyes watered.
“Yes. This is it.”
Sweetness.
Deep savory flavor.
My appetite immediately awakened.
Next...
I added plenty of sugar Topu had bought.
Bubble, bubble!
The sugar melted into the hot Manong oil.
It began caramelizing into thick brown syrup.
A small pinch of salt...
To deepen the sweetness.
Then pepper...
For a sharp kick beneath the heavy aroma.
Finally...
I poured the freshly fried potatoes into the sauce.
Then snapped my wrist and tossed the pot repeatedly.
Shhhk! Shhk!
The thick sauce coated every surface.
The fries gleamed beautifully.
For the final touch...
I finely minced the green Manong leaves like parsley.
Then sprinkled them over the top.
Done.
Manong Sauce Fries.
As I finished cooking...
Zakan came running.
“Stop, Izak! Heating that poisonous plant is dangerous!”
So Malko’s nonsense brought him here.
I looked at Zakan, who had rushed over in a sweat.
My expression went flat.
Zakan stared at the completed dish.
His face looked as though the world had ended.
“Too late...”
Then Malko appeared again.
“Zakan! Rock Tribe finished!”
He clutched his throat.
“Goblin Armpit smell everywhere! Kugh... I-I can’t breathe!”
“What?!”
The children had also gathered.
“We die now?”
“Shaman spread poison!”
Shut up!
The children began panicking because they believed Malko.
Zakan looked at me with unbearably sad eyes.
“Why...”
He sounded heartbroken.
“Why did you do this, Izak?”
Then...
Malko sniffed.
“Sniff, sniff...”
His expression changed.
“Huh?”
The broken smell detector had apparently repaired itself.
“Why does Goblin Armpit... smell good?”
He leaned toward the food.
“I-It smells delicious.”
