Jiyeon rubbed her temples as she stepped into her office, hoping for a moment's peace after Kang's latest experiment in "culinary boldness." A nice, quiet moment to breathe, she thought, was that too much to ask? But just as she settled in, Yura's voice echoed down the hallway.
"Jiyeon! Emergency meeting. Now."
Jiyeon sighed, squaring her shoulders as she marched toward Yura's office. "If this is about Kang's 'cursed cauldron' stew, I'm vetoing any mention of it from future menus."
Yura looked up from her tablet, an amused glint in her eyes. "Trust me, I'm all for banning that. No, this is about something bigger." She tapped the screen and a slew of images filled the room, showing competitors' glossy restaurants, glitzy dishes, and, worst of all, customer reviews boasting about "mind-blowing culinary experiences."
"We need a new theme night," Yura announced with a smug look, folding her arms. "Apparently, we're getting beat out by the 'modern medieval' restaurant down the street. They've got people eating out of 'chalices' and 'armor-plated soup bowls.'"
Jiyeon raised an eyebrow, deadpan. "We're losing to cosplay cuisine? Really?"
Yura nodded solemnly. "Oh, it's a crisis. People love the medieval kitsch. They're serving 'feast platters' with turkey legs so big, people are taking selfies mid-bite."
"Perfect," Jiyeon muttered, leaning back with a grin. "I'll just put in an order for some 'dragon eggs' and 'fairy wings.' Should be easy enough to source."
Yura rolled her eyes but couldn't stifle her smile. "Well, we need something. Something that keeps us competitive without… turning my restaurant into a renaissance fair."
Jiyeon scratched her chin, gears turning as she tried to think of an idea that would outshine medieval cosplay but keep their reputation intact. "What about a 'Tour of Seoul' theme? A full menu that brings in every flavor of the city. Like… a virtual stroll through Seoul, with each dish representing a different district?"
Yura's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's actually good." Then, with a grin, she added, "But please, let's keep Kang's hands off anything too… experimental."
"Right," Jiyeon said, laughing. "I'll make sure he's on a strict 'taste-bud safety' protocol."
But as they began jotting down ideas, Kang himself burst through the door, looking absolutely thrilled. "Oh, are we brainstorming? Fantastic. I was just thinking about incorporating fusion into our menu. You know, like… wasabi kimchi."
Jiyeon and Yura exchanged a look of horror.
Yura raised a hand, stopping him mid-idea. "Wasabi… kimchi? Kang, are you actively trying to traumatize our customers?"
Kang waved them off. "Hear me out! It's cutting edge. Traditional, but with a kick."
"More like a slap to the taste buds," Jiyeon muttered. "How about we stick to the 'Tour of Seoul' concept and save the wasabi for… never?"
Kang rolled his eyes. "Fine. But just wait. When wasabi kimchi goes mainstream, you'll regret it."
"Pretty sure I'll survive that regret," Jiyeon quipped.
Jiyeon settled back into her chair, smirking at Kang's pout as he folded his arms in mock offense. She leaned forward, sketching ideas on a notepad. "Alright, back to the 'Tour of Seoul' concept. Picture this: we take our customers through an experience that feels like strolling the streets of Seoul at night, but, you know, without the threat of being mowed down by a delivery scooter."
Yura laughed, nodding thoughtfully. "Yes! We could start with a classic from Dongdaemun. Maybe something rich and spicy, like street tteokbokki, but elevated. Imagine rice cakes stuffed with mozzarella and gruyère, draped in a spicy gochujang sauce with a hint of sweetness." Her eyes sparkled as she envisioned it.
Kang perked up immediately, looking hopeful. "Ooh! What if we top it with… edible gold flakes?"
"Kang, please," Jiyeon groaned, "not everything needs to look like it fell out of a jewelry store."
"But it would sparkle under the lights!" he protested. "People love sparkle."
Jiyeon pressed her fingers to her temples, taking a deep breath. "People also love food that doesn't taste like a paycheck gone wrong. Let's focus on flavors, not… bedazzling the poor tteokbokki."
Yura, lips curling into a restrained smile, motioned for Jiyeon to continue. "What about the main course?"
Jiyeon tapped her pen thoughtfully. "Let's go to Itaewon. Picture a fusion, a blend of Korean barbecue and something exotic. Grilled bulgogi, but wrapped in soft pita bread with a dollop of garlic-yogurt sauce and crisp lettuce. A kind of Korean gyro, but with an unmistakable Seoul flavor."
Kang's eyes widened. "Oh, I love that idea. It's… risky. Perfectly on-brand."
"Risky?" Yura deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. "Kang, the last time you tried 'risky,' we ended up with eggplant ice cream."
Kang's face went red. "Okay, that one was a misstep. But this sounds different—innovative, not insane."
Jiyeon chuckled, leaning back with a triumphant grin. "I knew you'd see the light. Besides, this is less 'experimental disaster' and more 'comfort food with a twist.' Something people can enjoy without feeling like they're taking a food science class."
"Fine, fine." Kang rolled his eyes but relented, sketching some plating ideas for the gyro-bulgogi fusion.
Yura took a moment, peering over their notes. "We're still missing something. Something… sweet but strong to end the meal on a high note. A dessert that screams Seoul, but not literally."
Jiyeon snapped her fingers. "Insa-dong! We finish with a modern take on hotteok, but instead of the usual pancake style, we shape it into delicate, golden spirals. Stuff it with a mix of brown sugar, honey, and chopped walnuts, and then maybe a hint of cinnamon."
Yura's face lit up. "Add a drizzle of caramel, just for that extra warmth." She looked around, satisfied. "Now that's a Seoul tour—savory, spicy, sweet, and memorable."
Kang clapped his hands, looking like he'd just discovered fire. "Ladies, I think we've got ourselves a concept."
"Finally," Jiyeon said, stretching her arms above her head. "But please, let's keep it simple. I don't want to see any of your surprise garnishes on these dishes, Kang. No edible flowers that look like they came from Mars."
He huffed. "One time! That was one time."
"Yes," Yura smirked, "and that one time almost got us a lawsuit when a customer thought it was a plastic decoration."
As the team laughed and bickered, the plan began to take shape. The evening would be carefully curated, each dish telling a story that tied back to Seoul. But it wasn't just about the food—it was about giving their customers a journey. And though Kang occasionally threw out wild ideas, they all seemed to finally be on the same page, much to Jiyeon's relief.
On the night of the event, the restaurant buzzed with anticipation. The low hum of jazz set the mood, and Jiyeon could see the flicker of candlelight reflecting off the polished glasses. Tables were set elegantly, but not pretentiously, with subtle hints of traditional Korean designs woven into the decor.
Jiyeon spotted Yura across the room, dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, her hair sleek and falling to her shoulders. Jiyeon's breath caught as she watched her wife move with the kind of effortless grace that had probably taken years to perfect.
"Look who's staring," Kang whispered, appearing beside her with a sly grin.
Jiyeon scoffed, elbowing him. "Shut up."
Kang smirked. "You're lucky, you know. Marrying into a dynasty and all. And her actually liking you on top of it? I mean, miraculous."
Jiyeon rolled her eyes, but her smile softened. "She's… something."
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all mushy on me now," Kang said, pretending to gag. "You've got an empire to run."
"Which is exactly why I need to go make sure you're not trying to sneak gold flakes into the tteokbokki."
Kang laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Not tonight. I swear."
The evening went off without a hitch, the dishes emerging from the kitchen beautifully plated and meticulously garnished (with no extraterrestrial-looking flowers, thank goodness). The customers loved it, each dish sparking conversations that traveled from table to table.
When the dessert course arrived, Jiyeon finally allowed herself a moment to relax. She watched as patrons bit into the golden, spiraled hotteok, their faces lighting up with satisfaction.
Yura approached her, two glasses of wine in hand, and passed one to Jiyeon. "It's a hit," she murmured, clinking her glass with Jiyeon's.
Jiyeon grinned. "I'd say so. And no one got traumatized this time, so that's a bonus."
Yura chuckled, taking a sip. "See? We can be brilliant without the theatrics. Though," she added with a teasing glint, "I did see you shooting daggers at Kang every time he got near the garnish station."
Jiyeon rolled her eyes. "Because that man has the restraint of a toddler in a candy store. If I let him loose, we'd be serving glitter-covered bulgogi."
They shared a laugh, the sound of clinking glasses and laughter around them blending into a perfect hum of a successful night.
As the last patrons began to file out, Jiyeon leaned against the counter, exhaustion catching up with her. Yura joined her, her hand brushing against Jiyeon's arm in a rare public display of affection.
"You did well," Yura murmured.
"We did well," Jiyeon corrected, her gaze softening as she met Yura's eyes.
Yura's lips curled into a smile. "I suppose I'll let you take some of the credit, then."
Jiyeon chuckled, shaking her head. "How generous of you."
But Yura's hand remained on her arm, lingering a moment longer than necessary, and Jiyeon felt a warmth settle in her chest. It wasn't just the restaurant, the food, or the success. It was them, building something together—sometimes with arguments, insults, and the occasional fiasco, but always moving forward.
"Come on," Yura said, stepping back and offering her hand. "Let's get you home. You've earned it."
Jiyeon took her hand, feeling the weight of the night's success finally lift. And as they walked out together, hand in hand, she couldn't help but feel that, just maybe, they were unstoppable.