"You... you idiot! Do you think you're easy? Do I look like a street rock?

"No, sir. That can't be true. But I mean, if you mix anchovies with depory, you can make it taste better with a little less."

"Oh, my God, this son of a b*tc* keeps coming back to haunt me. Hey, am I that easy? Okay, I got it. Just stay after work today. Hey! Everyone just go home. Our handsome youngest is cleaning and finishing today."

"No, sir. It's not like that."

"What do you mean no? If you're that good at cooking, stay behind and clean up, and make that killer broth. Submit it all by tomorrow. So if it's not good, you'll get a lump right away. Let's try to die. Hey! Get off work! Everybody pack up and go home!"

The door of the restaurant was shut with a thud before long.

Some of the other seniors are sorry. Saying, some left the restaurant with a smirk of bad taste.

Before long, the chapter was left entirely alone.

A dark restaurant with all the other lights off except for one small lamp in the kitchen.

A worker who pulled a chair out of the hall and sat down sighed as the ground went down.

"This is driving me crazy…….”

Kim Il-jang, 24 years old.

I liked food since I was young.

Eating delicious food was much more fun and exciting for the general than most toys and TV programs.

So it was never difficult to decide a dream.

I'll be a cook. That's what I said since elementary school, and that dream has continued until now when I turned 24.

Unfortunately or fortunately, my parents cheered for me. I had my own talent, perhaps helped by heaven.

After graduating from Jori High School, I went to France to study for 2 years.

He learned valuable skills at a famous restaurant, and returned to Korea to take advantage of his career to get a job at a restaurant called Michelin to Star.

Totally solid as a cook.

Although he was young, his skills were better than most chefs in their early 30s, so he was able to receive some recognition.

Yes, the general was certainly talented.

I could identify the recipe and ingredients by simply trying or smelling almost every dish, and I was really good at creating new dishes.

But the best of his talents was Korean food as expected.

Although it stood out in other dishes, it was unique that Korean food was not enough to stand out.

All the Korean food made by his hands boasted a surprising taste to anyone who had ever tasted it.

Even if a simple egg roll was made, even the chef would admit it.

It wasn't even the use of unusual techniques or incredibly good materials.

Just, when Kim Il-jang made it, Korean food was incredibly delicious.

After realizing that, Iljang reduced his four-year schedule to two years in France, he returned to Korea and got a job at a Korean restaurant. Well, the result is as you see it.

"It's a jungle, a jungle. If you're a chef, you just have to make delicious food well. Instead of politicizing, riding a rope, and not talking back to the youngest, it's not over if you're good at food. Argh! Why not, you idiots! As long as the cook is good at cooking!!"The workplace that was left alone in the restaurant eventually couldn't stand it and screamed alone like a crazy person.

No wonder, the kitchen right behind it was a complete shambles because it was barely cleaned.

The ingredients are all over the place, oil stains run, and the scariest dishes are stacked to the ceiling. You just have to stay up all night to clean this up alone.

You want me to boil the broth? I really wanted to tell you to try.

"I can't help but say...…. Head chef, if you don't do it, I'll really cut it. Oh, come on. Is the youngest like this? I'm dying of grief, d*mn it."

It is a famous restaurant. I know.

The place where the general is working is the third Michelin restaurant in Korea.

His skills are clear, and his cooking skills are high. I'll probably get a Michelin three-star in a few years.

It was full of dirty and cheap chefs who didn't like it, but I still accepted what I had to admit.

But that doesn't mean the general is going to keep piling up here? Not a chance. It's definitely not. The goal of the chapter is separate.

"I'm sure you'll get a chance if you work here for a few more years. Take the opportunity well...…. I will enter my dream restaurant, oral fairy tale. No matter what happens, please. I don't need a snake's head. I'm not going to die until I'm the head of a fairy tale."

A fairy tale. A miracle that is not enough to say a legend. A great achievement made in Korea, a small and insignificant size in the world.

Choi Han-seok, a legend of Korean food, Park Joo-hyuk, the best student.

In the middle, Haru produced an enormous chef, and decades later, the legendary restaurant that has maintained Michelin Three Star for decades.

People come from all over the world to eat oral fairy tale food.

During the summit in Korea, oral fairy tale chefs were in charge of the dinner, and even though they became so famous, they are really famous for not raising food prices.

In addition, the Choi Han-seok Foundation has grown into a UNICEF-class aid organization. It's a mouth-watering reputation to say the least.

The oral fairy tale has now grown beyond one restaurant into a restaurant worth more than that.

I've only eaten such oral food once.

No matter how much money I had, I didn't have a lot of opportunities because I had to make a reservation, but I had one chance thanks to my wealthy parents.

The first food I've ever tasted in a oral story is. It was like heaven.

It was when I was still a minor.

The general immediately ran to the kitchen and grabbed any chef's pants and asked him to do so, kneeling down.

You asked me to let you work, even if it's unpaid.

"……Of course, minors are not allowed, but they were dismissed. I still can't forget the taste. That ridiculous beef bone soup. No, it's not. It's not beef bone soup. It's something that transcends beef bone soup. Does the meat soup taste like that? Not a chance. That can't be true. Well, well."

Of course, it doesn't make a difference if you talk to yourself like this.

Looking at the hands of the clock, which had been silent for a long time, he got up trudgingly and began to wash the dishes with rubber gloves on.Quickly wash out a pot, then add water and start boiling the stock.

The chefs in this restaurant were too political.

Although Head only said something about himself, the chefs underneath him thought the restaurant was a savanna jungle, saying it was a line, a line, or a faction.

Of course, the general didn't belong anywhere.

I'm here to cook, not politics. If it were to be, it would have gone to the National Assembly. Wearing a suit, not a cooking suit.

Clattering, clattering. Only the sound of sighing and washing dishes resonated gently in the quiet, dark restaurant.

The dishes started at 10 p.m. and finished at 1 p.m.

It was 6 o'clock when I finished cleaning all the other things, and I woke up to the sound of a food truck coming in, and 30 minutes passed.

With a completely disheveled look, he showed Hed the clean kitchen and handed over the broth he had given to him for homework.

Yesterday, when he saw Hed cooking, the general was presumptuous, and that's why Hed, who thought he was up against him, made this fuss.

Slurp! This is how Hed felt when he took a bite of the broth with a look of frustration.

For your information, the worker who worked all night was out of his mind now.

Let's just do whatever we can. If I get fired here, I'll take a few days off. Well, that's what I was thinking.

"Dear Iljang, you don't know that."

"What do you mean, Chef?"

"I really don't like you. I mean it. or I mean business. You're so annoying. I couldn't even look into your eyes when I was young, but maybe it's because the world changed. Now the youngest is climbing up and doing this to the sky-like head.”

"……that's why I got fired."

"The kitchen is clean and the dishes are...….”

Head picked up a bowl that was hanging on the back.

It's a bowl that the general cleaned up all night yesterday. He looked over it with his fingers.

"The dishes are clean."

"Broth. Is that where you're going?"

"It was really, really disgustingly delicious. Yeah, you won. Oh, of course I won't change the recipe. This is my pride. Instead, I'll think about a new broth on the menu next season."

"……did you hear that wrong? Chef?"

"I know I heard it right, so don't say anything weird. Just go home today. Dark circles are coming down under my eyes and my hair is dripping with grease. Why would I come into the kitchen like that? I'll give you a day off, so sleep tight and go to work at dawn tomorrow. That's it. What are you all doing? Are you watching? The ingredients are here. I'm not working, you bastards!"

A head chef who hurls at your rare holiday day with a fine look and bawls at the similarly disordered chefs to work quickly.

It was a scene where he wondered what he had just heard, but his seniors, who cared about him, pushed him to go home quickly and rest.

It was evening when I came to my senses. He came home, took a shower roughly, and slept for more than 10 hours like he fainted.

At 8 p.m., strangely hungry.

But I didn't want to cook food because I was in the kitchen all day yesterday.

"Even so...…. I don't like the delivery. Why don't we just go out and look for it?"

I booked a room near the restaurant, but I didn't even know what kind of store was nearby until it was almost a year old because the work was so hard.A firm-minded general left the house to take a walk and find a restaurant.

As I walked around the alley, the moon rose and darkness sank.

Then one day, I found a nice restaurant.

"House food day?"

It was an unusual name. But I was strangely attracted.