Chapter 6
“Let’s try it now.”
I twirled some pasta around my fork and put it in my mouth. One piece of tomato came along for the ride.
Munch munch
-Tasty?
-As if.
-Not exactly expecting much.
“I’m telling you, it’s good.”
I’d rather die than suffer.
-Give me some.
-At least give us a little before you talk.
-So how does it taste?
“How does it taste? Have you ever had a salad with Oriental dressing?”
-Yep.
-Salty and tangy.
“Yes, yes. Since you called it tangy, it sounds like a dressing mixed with balsamic vinegar, and this tastes similar. If there’s any difference, it’s probably just the basil and olive aromas.”
-I can’t quite imagine it.
“No. Pasta places sell salad pasta, you know. Why can’t you imagine it? You’ve probably had it several times with your girlfriend. It’s not like you’re forever alone.”
-?
-Here we go again.
-Your eyes have opened.
“Hah. I’m kidding. Surely there’s no one like that. Everyone watching in my room is an alpha male and a manly man who says, ‘Go eat gukbap, you bitch,’ right?”
-Exactly, exactly.
-What the hell is crudaiola? Jeyuk and gukbap are enough for me.
“Anyway, to explain in a little more detail, when you put it in your mouth, the olive and basil aromas are incredibly rich. If you’re sensitive to strong aromas, you might wonder what you’re eating.”
-Didn’t ask.
Shut up and listen for a minute. This is the important part.
-Zzz.
-The galbijjim recipe is… (abridged)
Ignoring countless unfair haters, I explained the pasta’s flavor.
It was sour, sweet, and salty, but because those flavors came from a harmony of different ingredients, it wasn’t monotonous—it was fun.
You may wonder what I mean by a flavor being fun, but I think you’ll understand if you try a carefully prepared Western-style dish.
If you can’t, then I dunno?
-Oh, the mountain of rice.
-You really don’t stop talking when it’s about cooking.
-Talk like that normally.
“So what’s the verdict? It’s delicious.”
Saying that, I took another bite.
As expected, something cold is the best when it’s hot.
-But aren’t you doing anything else?
“Something else?”
I wondered what they meant. Did they mean a wider variety of dishes, or something unusual?
After thinking it over, I realized there was no point in puzzling over it alone.
What was the advantage of internet broadcasting, after all? That both sides could talk to each other. If I wanted to know what my viewers wanted, I could just ask them directly.
“What exactly do you mean? Something unusual? Or something unfamiliar?”
-No, do something besides cooking.
Not cooking, huh.
It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about it. People might watch something new for a few streams because it was novel, but who would keep enjoying food they couldn’t even eat?
But what should I do?
Nothing I did seemed all that fun.
Would it be different if I did it on stream?
“You mean games or something?”
-Yep.
-Eden, go go go go.
-Eden fanboys are fuuuuucking everywhere.
[Cafeteria-Pot-Thief Jian donated 1,000 won!]
I’m not trying to pull your strings, but as a fan who genuinely wants you to succeed, I wanted to write a few words. Since you’re not even a YouTuber, I don’t think there’s any reason to watch you if you stream cooking every day. Of course, there would be demand even if you only did facecam, but you’re not a female streamer, and it’s not like you’re a famous chef. So if you’re only going to cook, either reveal your face and do mukbangs too, or become a VTuber—or better yet, I’d like it if you did plenty of other kinds of content as well. For the record, I’m saying this out of genuine support, so please don’t misunderstand.
-Fuuuuuuuck, another wall of text.
-You fucker, donate 100,000 won.
-Write your diary in your notes app.
-“Out of genuine support” << lol, what a load of shit.
Oof, that’s a hearty one. I feel full just reading it.
I joked around in response, but after reading it slowly, I had to admit it was accurate.
Even though I’d started streaming for my own enjoyment, if I stubbornly stuck to my principles and all the viewers disappeared, I’d be back where I started.
‘Hmm….’
When I actually imagined not streaming again, it felt strangely disappointing.
Well, yeah. It’s not like doing something else will kill me.
“All right. Then let’s chat while we decide what else to do. I only started this stream thinking, ‘I guess I’ll just cook,’ so I don’t have any good ideas.”
Let’s put the wisdom of the crowd to work. These viewers didn’t seem to have particularly high IQs, but together they had to total at least 2,000, so maybe they’d come up with some incredible content.
-Dance, dance.
(This viewer has been banned.)
-If it’s speed you want, this is it, bb.
-How about a safe game?
-Ideal Type World Cup.
See? Even dog shit can be used as medicine, and ideas are already pouring out.
-???
-Wanna die?
-I don’t go easy on women.
“Pfft. I’m kidding. Overall, they all seem pretty fine, though. But guys, there’s something I’m curious about. Can I ask?”
-Yep.
“Is cooking really that boring?”
-Kind of.
-It is a little dull when we can’t see your face, either.
-Yeah, there’s no dopamine.
Figures. So it is. My face, huh… Even I have to admit that if I kept doing nothing but cooking streams, I’d eventually have to reveal it.
Even with only a little thought, several ideas came to mind. There could be real-life viewer-participation content, and a mukbang featuring housewives’ cooking would be nice, too.
Still, that was too much for now.
“I’ll do the face reveal later, once I’ve prepared myself a little more. Then let’s do this: I’ll cook as usual in Part 1, and do something else in Part 2. How does that sound?”
As we chatted and nibbled away, the plate was empty before I knew it.
I asked them to wait a moment, quickly washed the dishes, and sat back down.
“Since we’re done eating, shall we try a few different things starting tomorrow?”
-Nooooooooooooooooo.
-You have to do it while the idea’s still on the table.
-I’m eating right now, do it a little longer.
A little longer, huh. I couldn’t think of anything suitable right now… Oh, that could work.
“Guys. Can you post things here, too?”
-No, you have to make a café or a gallery.
-There are other places, but not here.
I see. That sounds like a hassle.
-Want me to make one?
Oh. Top-tier dog shit.
-You fucking bitch.
“Haha, just kidding. Would that be okay? If it’s not too much trouble, I’d be happy. I don’t have anything special to offer, but I’ll treat you to a free meal at my shop sometime.”
-?????
-Hmm.
-Lol.
Why are they reacting like this? Did I do something wrong? No, right? Why aren’t they answering? Answer me.
-So when’s next time?
-Me too, me too.
“Of course, that’s if I ever do a face reveal. Otherwise, like I said before, you can come find me on your own.”
-Knew it.
-Lol.
-Hey, before we finish, give us your email ID.
Email ID? Why would they need that? Could this person be using the café as an excuse to get my email, then use it to do this and that, stalk me, and go wild on me?!
-You’ve been pissing me off since earlier. Aren’t you going to claim the café owner account?
“Ah. You should’ve said that first. I almost mistook you for a creepy viewer~”
-Looooooooooooooooool
-Are you doing this on purpose?
After a brief commotion, I took over the café.
“All right. So what are we going to do? Join this café, take a picture of whatever food you’re eating right now, and upload it. I’ll give you some backseat cooking advice. Introducing: Backseat Cooking!”
-Sounds like a hassle.
-Mm.
-Dead on arrival, dead on arrival, dead on arrival.
Ugh. These uncooperative people. They asked me to do something, so I did, and now they don’t like it?
-Just brew some stock for us.
When did I ever brew stock? This won’t do. For my next broadcast, I should boil gomtang while undergoing closed-door training.
As I bickered with these troublesome bastards, a few posts went up on the board.
-Ugh, these stock-brewing bastards.
-Kick out the sycophants.
-Not me, not me, not me.
Let’s see. Our room has 23 viewers right now. Members…
“Wait. Guys. What’s this?”
The number 22 was displayed where my mouse was spinning around.
-Lol;;
-Looks like you got hacked.
-It’s a bug. Definitely a bug.
Their mouths said no, but their actions were honest. They’d only known me for a few days, so what did they like about me so much?
Maybe they’d heard me muttering, because the chat room suddenly filled with gasping messages.
Phew. Then shall we look at a few?
[Title: Today’s Nom-Noms♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡]
[Author: Extreme Pig Jian]
(A photo of kimchi stew with pineapple in it)
Let’s see.
I clicked the nickname. Activity suspended. Duration: 1 day. Post deleted.
“Everyone. Backseat cooking only applies to food. I’m not giving advice on your army chow.”
-Boo, garbage.
-Mom, I’m sorry.
Why are they acting like that again? Did I see something wrong?
When I asked, the chat flooded with messages saying it was food their mother had made and that I should apologize.
Starting with a Talulal, huh. Then I suppose I should apologize.
“As if. I’ll speak my mind, everyone. Wrong is wrong. My mother was exactly like that, you know? But my dad would always say, ‘It’s delicious. Your cooking is the best,’ and eat it all. So do you know what happened to him?”
-?
-What happened?
-Isn’t your mom just trying to make it tasty?
“Mussel jjajang, carrot curry, kkakdugi kimchi stew, fruit bibim noodles. Shall I go on?”
-Ugh, gross.
-It started out sounding plausible, but the farther it goes, the shittier it gets.
-This is the father’s fault. Mm-hmm.
“Anyway, you get it, right? She does try. But her direction is about 1,000 degrees off. So you have to say something from the very beginning, or you’ll be eating stuff like that for the rest of your life.”
After finishing my speech, I looked at the next post.
What’s this now?
It looked like toast, but much of the outside was burnt.
“No, guys. I told you to bring pictures of food. It’s not inedible at this point, but don’t eat it this burnt. If you’re going to eat it, scrape the burnt parts off first. This isn’t well toasted; it’s just burnt. Got it?”
-Gasp.
-Gasp.
-Shh.
-Lol, seriously, what kind of bitch did this?
-Read the room.
What now? What did I do wrong this time?