The Chef From the Apocalypse Enters the Food Industry - Chapter 11

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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Chapter 11. On Miracles (2)
The Food Truck.
It wasn’t exactly the ideal place to entertain two guests.
‘Even if it’s a day off, this won’t do.’
Just as I was thinking I’d need to rent a proper venue.
Fortunately, the Old Gentleman resolved the matter for me.
It was his house.
“I’m coming in, sir.”
“You’ve arrived? Was the drive alright?”
“Yes. It’s a route I take every day anyway. Haha.”
The house’s appearance was, in a word, immaculate.
Furnishings that had accompanied him through long years had melted into the landscape like a painting.
And atop it all, careful touches added warmth to the space.
‘How fitting for the Old Gentleman. I like it.’
Perhaps because both their personalities were woven throughout.
Despite visiting for the first time, I quickly felt at home.
The house’s owner, the Old Gentleman, was different.
The current situation seemed quite awkward for him.
“Still, you know… I should have refused somehow back then. I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, that’s not it. Really, it’s not.”
“…Hmm.”
Even if the Old Gentleman was genuinely apologetic.
It didn’t matter to me.
‘It was my choice.’
I came here by my own decision.
Unlike my past life, I wanted to take a step forward.
For anyone else, perhaps not—but for the Old Gentleman.
I thought it would be fine to take a cautious step.
‘I can’t keep shrinking back like I did in my past life forever, can I?’
That’s why I came.
By my own choice.
It wasn’t the Old Gentleman who needed to worry about this moment.
It was me.
I asked carefully.
“Are you alright with this, sir?”
“I’m fine with it.”
“Then I’m relieved.”
The Old Gentleman offered pleasant conversation.
And guided me deeper into the house.
“What do you think of the place?”
“I hope to live like this when I’m older too. Have you both been living here since you were young?”
“Heh heh. We found this place late in life. Truth is, we spent a lot of time apart when we were younger.”
“Is that so? You two seem so comfortable together, I can hardly imagine it.”
“We had the excuse of making a living. Yet she still remembers me.”
“Ah…!”
“I must have been blessed, haven’t I?”
“That’s right. You’ve been truly blessed.”
“Right? I feel like I didn’t do much for her. How does she remember me? Heh heh.”
The Old Gentleman laughed awkwardly.
My nose suddenly felt warm and prickly.
I carefully found the person who truly belonged in this moment.
“By the way, where is the Old Lady?”
“When she heard you were coming, she bustled about getting ready. Ah, there she is now.”
“You’ve arrived? You two weren’t speaking ill of me, were you?”
The Old Lady emerged and joked with me.
“Heh heh. Of course not.”
“Not at all. He was singing your praises quite a bit.”
“Oh my. Why ‘madam’? I’m not that old. Ho ho.”
“That’s right. Of course.”
“And here he goes bragging again? Goodness, he’s incorrigible.”
“It all looked good to me.”
“Ho ho. You’ve always been like this, but you certainly have a way with words.”
“Only you would say that.”
“I told you not to call me ‘madam.’ Come now, let me show you to the kitchen.”
The Old Lady smiled warmly and led me to the kitchen.
The Old Gentleman gazed after her, his eyes already glistening as if tears might spill at any moment.
‘Just wait a little longer.’
* * *
As I stepped into the kitchen, it too was filled with meticulous order.
‘I can tell how they live their daily lives.’
The dishes, worn smooth by years of handling, bore not a single scratch.
How carefully and tenderly they must have been cherished.
Time itself had melted into these objects.
This space was precious in its own right.
“It’s quiet, isn’t it?”
“Not at all. It’s wonderful.”
“Heh heh. Wonderful, you say. Anyway, what will you be cooking?”
“Nothing too grand.”
“You’re being modest. The fact that you came means everything to me.”
“Even if you say that, there’s nothing special about it. Well, not today anyway. I promised to treat you both.”
“Hehehehe.”
I had to find a way here.
A way for both of them to be happy.
‘That way is through cooking.’
What that method was specifically.
The Old Gentleman seemed curious as well.
His curiosity was evident.
“Truth be told, I haven’t prepared anything extraordinary.”
“As I said, ramen would be fine for me.”
“No, no. Not ramen.”
“Hmm? Then what?”
“Do you remember our walk?”
“Our walk? Of course I remember.”
When we were strolling through the neighborhood.
The Old Gentleman had shared so many stories with me.
Where he met his wife. How they’ve lived together.
And what dishes had brought her happiness.
He recounted everything without omission, speaking as if trying to recall and preserve each memory.
Among them, one dish had deeply embedded itself in my heart.
“You said the budae-jjigae your wife would make when you came home from work was so wonderful?”
“Hehe. It was wonderful. Is that the dish you’re making today?”
“Yes. Could you wait just a moment? I’ll have it ready soon.”
“…Thank you.”
The Old Gentleman lowered his head deeply and left the kitchen.
* * *
Budae-jjigae.
It’s not an easy dish to prepare for elderly people.
In fact, it often reminds them of their impoverished past.
So it wasn’t necessarily a good dish to serve them.
The dish itself presented problems.
‘The ingredients are difficult to digest. Both the sausage and meat. And since it’s a stew, the seasoning is quite strong.’
To prepare such budae-jjigae.
It required far more care than usual.
Chop chop chop chop—
I ground the meat I’d prepared beforehand until it was fine.
Then I used a knife to score it further.
It barely maintained its shape, so delicate was the work.
The sausage was no exception.
Cut small and fine.
Trimmed and prepared.
The ingredients are crushed into a porridge-like consistency.
Since when did budae jjigae have a fixed form?
If it fills even one meal’s hunger, that’s budae jjigae.
Sizzle—
I laid down the broth I’d prepared beforehand as the base.
Then added the ingredients.
With care.
Making sure not to miss even a single grain.
‘The broth should be thin and mellow rather than clear.’
I slowly simmered the budae jjigae.
Time passed.
[You have completed a special dish.]
The white steam from the budae jjigae tickled my nose.
* * *
I placed the budae jjigae on the table.
I carefully laid out spoons and set warm rice beside it.
Once the meal was ready, I called the two of them.
“My. What is this?”
“It’s my special budae jjigae.”
“Jjigae? It looks just like porridge.”
“That’s why it’s special budae jjigae. It’ll taste wonderful. And it’s easy to digest.”
I swallowed the words I almost said—wouldn’t those memories come back then?
But I held them back.
Still, the Old Gentleman and I understood each other.
“Heh heh… thank you. I’m grateful.”
“It’s nothing. It’s hardly anything compared to what you’ve done for me.”
“My. What are you two talking about by yourselves? I can’t understand.”
“Oh dear. My apologies. Then, would you like to try a spoonful first?”
“Hmm…”
The Old Lady clearly hesitated.
I understood.
A young man had suddenly appeared and prepared food, and it was budae jjigae in a form she’d never seen before.
It was natural that she wouldn’t reach for it easily.
“Just one spoonful.”
“Heh heh. There’s sincerity in it, isn’t there? Go on, try a bite.”
“Should I?”
Only after the Old Gentleman’s persuasion did she pick up her spoon.
Slurp—
Carefully. Slowly.
The Old Lady’s eyes widened as she took that first spoonful.
That was the beginning.
One spoonful. Two spoonfuls.
The spoon continued moving steadily.
In that moment, I became certain.
‘It worked…!’
This was going to work.
The dish came together quickly, but.
It was no hastily prepared meal.
Every ingredient in that budae-jjigae.
They were not merely things I had observed being prepared.
From the moment I received the invitation, I had personally enhanced every single one of them.
And the recipe itself.
From the apocalypse era.
I had crafted it by maximizing the recipes from those days when we created dishes from whatever materials we could find.
Officially known as [Special Spirit Recovery Stew].
That was the true identity of my signature recipe.
‘In my past life, I made stew like porridge not for digestion but because good ingredients didn’t exist. Thanks to that, modifying the recipe was easy.’
The effects of the budae-jjigae I created were certain.
Since it was a recipe born from surviving the apocalypse era, the benefits it granted were considerable.
True to its name.
It was a panacea for mental health and spiritual recovery.
‘In my past life, I was often on the verge of losing my mind.’
I never imagined I would use those techniques and recipes from back then in this way.
Moreover, this was the first time I was presenting such a dish to the Old Lady.
Yet inwardly, I was confident.
This would work.
I could verify the results of my prediction immediately.
Whoooosh—
A radiant light swept across the Old Lady.
A light visible only to me.
* * *
[You have successfully achieved healing through food.]
[You obtain the title 【Healer】.]
[The probability of successful healing actions increases.]
[You acquire knowledge of pharmaceuticals.]
[You obtain the skill 【Medicinal Cuisine】.]
[The probability of recovery-related buffs attaching to your cooking increases.]
Notifications continued to pour in.
‘It worked.’
Even amidst the profound sense of accomplishment, I shook my head slightly.
Sssssss—
Notifications slowly fading away.
Between them, the Old Gentleman’s startled eyes became visible.
“Hm?”
‘He’s been watching continuously, so perhaps he sensed it.’
It wasn’t my imagination.
The Old Gentleman had felt it instinctively.
That something had changed.
Not long after.
The Old Lady set down the bowl and looked at the Old Gentleman.
Unlike just moments before, her eyes were now clear and lucid.
Those clear eyes, as if the confused days of the past held no meaning whatsoever, were already gazing upon her longtime beloved.
“Dear, why do you look like that?”
“Huh? What am I doing?”
“Why do you have such a sad expression? Hmm?”
“Ah, ah, ah…?”
“Why are you startled again? Hmm? Why such sadness… wait, now you’re smiling? Are you crying?”
“Ah, ah, ah… me? Am I crying…?”
That concern.
The sincerity it contained.
Was it overwhelming the Old Gentleman?
Thump. Thump.
Before long, the Old Gentleman was shedding tears he had held back for so long.
* * *
Together yet not together.
The two of them had existed in the present, yet in different times from one another.
“My dear…”
Perhaps the Old Lady, belatedly realizing what had happened to her,
Like two people meeting after being separated for long years,
The two of them shared a moment of reunion.
That moment was as long as their love itself.
During that long time, I was momentarily forgotten.
It didn’t matter.
‘This is too wonderful.’
Perhaps I should say I was delighted.
My cooking had worked.
The recipe I had created in my past life to avoid the moment of losing oneself.
That dish I had made merely to survive—had it not created a miracle?
Before being a chef.
As a person, it was only natural to be joyful in this moment.
Even if it were a fabricated miracle…
It doesn’t matter.
Sometimes, such miracles too…
‘…isn’t that good?’

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com

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