Ch.381381. Some Things Should Never Be Said

Maratang is a Chinese dish known for its distinctive numbing spiciness.

That means it might not be suitable for children who can’t handle spicy food. But my brother-in-law said he’d arrange it so both kids and adults could enjoy it.

I’m not sure exactly how he plans to modify it, but seeing how confidently he promised, he must have something in mind. Trusting his word, I left the kitchen and took the kids to the living room.

“Noona, brother-in-law. Can I help with anything?”

“You’re the host and we came to cook for you. Just stay there.”

“That’s right. Jinwoo and I will make something delicious, so just relax.”

I was planning to keep an eye on them and intervene if anything strange happened, but that plan won’t work now. Too bad.

Licking my lips in anticipation, I turned on the TV and flipped through channels to pass the time.

Being weekend lunchtime, both cable and public channels were airing various cooking shows featuring restaurants and recipes. The variety was impressive—Korean, Chinese, and Japanese cuisines were standard, along with Western dishes and even bizarre foods that made me think, “People actually eat that?”

“Wow, how can anyone eat insects blended with cabbage?”

I wouldn’t eat that even if someone paid me. A million won wouldn’t be enough—maybe I’d consider it for ten million.

Thinking about how diverse food can be around the world, I continued flipping channels. Cooking shows, mukbangs, gourmet explorations, restaurant reviews. Perhaps because every channel was talking about food, the kids watching with me clutched their hungry stomachs and spoke up.

“Dad, I’m hungry.”

“Me too, Dad. When can we have lunch?”

Their stomachs were growling since they’d skipped breakfast. I stretched out my arms and hugged both Woohee and Woocheon, gently comforting them.

“Auntie and Uncle are making maratang for us right now, so let’s wait just a little longer, okay?”

“Maratang? What’s maratang?”

“Well, maratang is…”

I pondered Woohee’s question for a moment. What is maratang? Simply put, as I mentioned earlier, it’s a Chinese dish characterized by its numbing spiciness, but Woohee has never tried it before.

I should probably give her a more detailed explanation, but where should I start?

I decided to begin by describing the ingredients and flavor, but just as I was about to speak, Hwa Nabi, who had been flipping through channels, spoke up.

“Woohee, maratang is like this.”

Looking over, I saw she had stopped on a public channel that, coincidentally, was featuring a special on Chinese cuisine and introducing maratang.

A young host was explaining the origin of maratang, its taste, and ingredients.

Beef, glass noodles, ham, broth, tofu, rice cakes, mushrooms. Maratang—a dish where various delicious-looking ingredients are thrown together and simmered in a red broth.

As the bubbling maratang appeared on screen, Woohee’s eyes lit up with interest, and she tugged at my t-shirt.

“Dad, is that the maratang you were talking about?”

“Yes, that’s maratang. Why? Do you want to try it?”

“Yes, I want to try it. It looks super delicious!”

“But Woohee, you don’t handle spicy food well. Will you be okay?”

At first glance, it looks similar to jjamppong, so one might think the taste is comparable. But when you actually try it, it’s completely different. Of course, that makes sense since only the finished appearance is similar while the ingredients differ. People don’t realize the difference until they taste it, right?

Even though I asked if she’d be okay with the spiciness, she nodded, which suggests our Woohee probably thinks maratang is similar to jjamppong.

While jjamppong has a pleasantly spicy heat, maratang has a heavier, numbing spiciness… Hmm, what if she’s disappointed when she actually tries it? I’m starting to worry.

“Noona, how’s it going?”

—Oh, don’t worry! It’s going well!

She says it’s going well, but why do I feel so uneasy? Is it just my imagination?

Well, unlike last time, my brother-in-law is there with her. So we probably won’t end up with an inedible disaster like before, but given past experience, I can’t just sit still.

I quietly got up and approached the kitchen. I need to check with my own eyes.

“Making the broth?”

“I told you to wait, why did you come?”

“Why? I smelled something good and got curious. How do you think it will taste?”

If it’s going to taste bad, I’d rather she tell me honestly. That way, I could at least prepare myself mentally.

My sister, who had been stirring the bubbling maratang broth, scooped some up with a ladle and held it out to me.

“Want to taste it yourself?”

“…You want me to taste it?”

“Yeah, you said you were curious.”

I said I was curious, not that I wanted to die. And maratang isn’t originally a dish where you drink the broth.

Of course, these days the recipe has been localized, so drinking the broth is fine. But putting that aside, I just don’t want to taste it.

As I stared at the ladle without saying anything, my brother-in-law cleared his throat to get my attention.

“Brother-in-law.”

“Ah, yes?”

‘Trust me and try it. It’ll be fine.’

My brother-in-law mouthed the words, assuring me it would be okay.

Hmm, surely he wouldn’t lie to me. Given how confidently he’s speaking, the broth must be at least edible. But why is my chest tight and my heart racing?

Despite my brother-in-law’s assurance, I hesitated to taste my sister’s cooking. Seeing me waver, my sister grabbed my shoulder and forcefully pushed the ladle toward me.

“Wait, hold on! Noona, let me prepare myself first!”

“What preparation do you need to taste broth? Close your mouth and just eat it!”

“If I close my mouth, how can I eat? You should be telling me to open my—”

While I was saying something unnecessary, the maratang broth entered my mouth. It’s slightly hot with a tingling aroma.

It’s a bit spicy, but at a level that kids could handle. And the most important thing, the taste…

“…Huh?”

Surprisingly, it’s not just edible—it’s delicious.

Yes, delicious. My sister’s food is delicious. Even though I tasted it with my own tongue, I couldn’t believe it, so I took another sip from the ladle.

It’s tingling and spicy, yet has a rich, savory flavor.

Oh, it’s delicious…!

“What is this? Why is it so tasty?”

“See? I told you. I’m not the same sister I used to be.”

I thought she was just showing off, but it was true? I’m so surprised my mouth won’t close. This is truly remarkable progress.

How many years of cooking practice did it take to be able to make such a delicious broth?

“Wow… Noona, you really have changed?”

I’m genuinely amazed, not joking. It’s just maratang broth, but why is it so delicious? I unconsciously lick my lips while staring at the bubbling maratang, and my brother-in-law chuckles beside me.

“Jinwoo, it was worth making maratang five times at home, wasn’t it?”

“Ah…! Wait. Sunghyun, I told you not to mention that…!”

“Oh, did you? Sorry. You looked so cute I forgot.”

I’ll accept their flirting while cooking as newlywed behavior. But wait, what did he just say? She made maratang five times?

I couldn’t believe what I heard, so I asked again, and my sister scratched her cheek and mumbled.

“Well… I’m serving my brother’s family, so of course I practiced a bit.”

“You call that ‘a bit’ of practice…?”

Making the same dish five times is hardly simple. And what happened to all those practice dishes?

I had so many questions that words rose to my throat, but I wisely kept them to myself. Bringing it up would only cause trouble. Let’s just move on…

“Dad, what are you doing there?”

Perhaps because I was making a commotion in the kitchen, the kids who had stayed in the living room came over and looked curiously at the cooking. I was about to tell them it was nothing and to go back and wait, when I thought, why not let them taste it too? So I tapped my sister on the shoulder.

“Noona, can the kids try some too?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, why not. Woohee, Woocheon, want to try some maratang broth?”

“Yes, I want to try it!”

“Thank you.”

Woohee, who had been showing interest in maratang, rushed over, while Woocheon politely greeted everyone before approaching.

My sister scooped some broth with the ladle and let both Woohee and Woocheon taste it. Their expressions changed immediately upon tasting. Woohee looked surprised, while Woocheon had a curious expression. Though their reactions differed, they shared one thing in common—they were both surprised by my sister’s cooking skills.

“Wow, it’s really delicious! So this is maratang. Auntie, can I have a little more?”

Woohee ran to my sister and tugged at her apron. Finding it adorable, my sister smiled warmly and gave her another taste of the maratang broth.

Slurp! Despite it being hot, Woohee drank the broth in one go and smiled happily. Meanwhile, Woocheon was tilting his head and looking at me.

“Woocheon, what’s wrong? Is it too spicy?”

Everyone has different tastes, so I crouched down and asked, wondering if the spiciness didn’t suit him.

Woocheon seemed to be savoring the taste of the maratang he just had, taking a moment before responding. Then, with a genuinely childlike smile, he said:

“Well, Dad’s jjamppong tastes better!”

“Uh…?”

“…”

“…Ahem.”