Seoul Kitchen: Chapter 12 (Patreon)

My First Regular

The hardest part of making bread was kneading the dough. Handling small batches was easily but it gets tricky when handling dought that was five, ten kilos is weight. “God damn it, I should have started with smaller batches,” he breathed out as he wiped the sweat of his brow.

Looking down on the massive pile of dough, he wondered just how much bagel he was going to make. “I really should get myself a mixing machine if I’m going to keep baking bread,” He told himself, “An industrial sized one.”

“Just get good chrome,” The girl replied with an amused grin across her face. “Would help you more than just some stand mixer.”

“I’m not really a fan of chrome,” he replied, “Too much maintenance and it’s not like anythings broken just yet.” Giving her a winning smile as he pat his biceps, he then added, laughing, “And it took me a long time to make this. Just give me a few more years to enjoy them before they start breaking down on me!”

He quickly trailed off as the girl gave him a flat look. Shrinking back to himself, he then saw her smirk. He knew the girl was happy but that resting bitch face of a glare she sported keeps throwing him off.

“Suit yourself then,” The girl then said.

Nodding, he turned back to working the dough with renewed vigor. He was going to make this batch even if it’s going to leave his arms sour the entire day. Looking up to her, he asked her “Say, you’re from New York something?”

“Yeah,” She replied, quirking a brow at him, “What about it?”

“Just had a hunch. Sounded like one and bagel was the first thing you said about breakfast,” He reasoned before pointing at the steaming pot of coffee. “Also, Coffee’s done, just go over the counter and help yourself some.”

The girl nodded as she got herself a steaming cup of joe. Watching her take a sip and smiling, he then said, “You know, I always wanted to go to New York. Get myself some hotdogs and go see the Statue.”

The girl scoffed as she told her, “It’s not worth the visit, place a trash heap now. All the good stores closed up, all that’s left is some hollow replica hoping to cash in from nostalgia,” Grimacing, the girl then said, ”There’s no good store there unless you’re willing to pay an arm and a leg,” Giving him a once over, she then added, “And maybe liver cause you’ll stand out like a damn tourist.”

“That bad huh?” He replied, feeling his shoulder sag at that. “Thought there’d still be something left of the old city you know?”

“Whatcha expect?” She asked sarcastically, “Shit happened, the corporate wars rolled around and things changes.” Crossing her arms over the table and resting her head, she then added, “It’s not like it matter anyways. Those are just some shops, no one would miss them.”

“But it does you know,” He argued as he finished kneading the dough. Grabbing himself a clean cheese cloth, he threw it over the massive dough so that it could rise. Turning back to her, he continued, “You can never separate a city from the food that its inhabitants loved. After all, Food isn’t just for sustenance, it’s for the soul.”

The girl rolled her eyes but she remained quite, lending him her ears as she listened along. “Food is the reflection of a city’s soul. To taste is it feel the city and be a part of it. From fiery New Orleans with their cajun dish, to Bold and Brash New York with food for every man, that’s what makes them worth living in.”

Chuckling to himself, he continued, “People are so focused on preserving the structures and artifacts of a place that they forget to preserve what makes those place have those things in the first place,” with a fond smile stretched across his lips, he finished it off with one last parting word, “It’s the culture and people that make a place great and to lose a part of it, to have that piece of a city’s soul wither away due to neglect is a damn shame.”

The girl frowned, keeping to herself as they sat there together in silence with nothing but the hustle and bustle of passerby outside to break through the monotony. It took her a few minutes before she told him, “You remind me of my old barber. He always had something to say.” Shaking her head, she added, “Mostly about boxing but he was good company.”

“Must have told you all about the greatest of all time, the man who carried the sport and brought it  to its golden age,” He replied before grinning as he added, “Man, I wished Marciano just fought one more fight.”

“You god damn son of a bitch, Ali’s the greatest!” She fired back but it lacked the heat of her earlier barbs. Chuckling, he continued bantering with her, just enjoying the company.

-x-x-x-

It took a hour to proof the dough and a couple of minutes more to roll it, boil it and toss it in the oven to bake. He almost forgot to add the malt extract in the water but that step was well worth it as he was left with that smooth and shiny finish that all bagels had. He could feel his mouth watering just staring at the plate with its assortment of topping.

Poppy Seed, White Sesame, Black Sesame, Flaky Salt, the whole shebang. He had to power to make those ingredients and by god he was going to make this as authentic as he could. “I wished I could have let it sit in the fridge after boiling but I really didn’t expect to make bagels today,” he apologized as he gave her a plate full of them; a dozen for her alone.

The girl snorted as she grabbed a piece and tore it apart. Her eyes widen as both of them heard that crunch and was greeted with a light and fluffy interior. Leaning closer, he watched as the girl took her first bite… before taking another and soon, he was left with a clear plate.

Blinking, he grabbed the plate and lifted it up and checked underneath just to see if it was truly all gone. “I take it that you like it?” He asked, feeling happy to have another happy customer.

“It’s shit compared to what I used to eat. Reminds me of that one bakery I always passed by, the one I hated…” She told him, making him bite his tongue at the direct barb. “But I like it… It reminds me of home,” He swore he saw the ghost of a smile upon her lips before it went away.

He laughed, feeling his heart lighten at those words, “I’m glad you like it because I’m not doing this again!” he replied. He had enough for a few dozen people if they had the same appetite as this girl but that was it. He didn’t want to knead that much dough again. “That piece of dough was a monster.”

The girl frowned before asking, “... Do you need that stand mixer that badly?”

He shrugged as he replied, “If I had one, I’d probably be happy to make bread and bagel everyday for breakfast.” He was considering getting one at this point. Strokign his chin, he wondered if he could trade one for another batch of fruit…

His musing would be quickly cut short as the girl nodded and said, “Alright. I’ll get it delivered here now,” It was so casual he almost missed how her eyes lit up as she started talking to someone on the other end of her phone.

“H-hey! I was just joking!” he told her, trying to get her to stop, “I was just speaking out loud, I didn’t thought you’d actually do it!”

“It’s worth it if I can have my bagels,” The girl fired back with a tone that brooked no argument. “I will have my bagels.” She told him.

“... Fine but send me the bill! I was thinking of getting one anyways,” Unable to argue with her, he just let it happened. She left soon afterwards, taking another dozen bagels with her and soon after he found himself the proud owner of a new stand mixer, one that was just big enough to mix the same batch her tried making but just small enough to fit inside his kitchen.

Confused and bewildered, he wondered if this was just how people were in this city. Atleast he got himself a regular. Now, if only she’d actually send him the bill…