Deal Breaker

When they went to the address that came up after searching the name written on the bottle, it turned out to be a farmers’ direct sales market. Going inside, Hyeji showed the photo she had taken to an elderly male staff member.

[ Oh, you came to buy this? Where are you from? ]

[ We came from South Korea. ]

[ My goodness! ]

He seemed to have misunderstood, thinking they had come all the way from Korea just to buy a single bottle of this olive oil. Since he looked extremely pleased and eagerly showed them around, she didn’t bother correcting the misunderstanding.

[ Do you know this is the northernmost place in the world where olives grow? ]

As they had driven along the lake earlier, the olive groves set against the backdrop of the Alps had felt oddly unfamiliar. Maybe that was why it tasted so unique.

[ Seventy-five percent of the olive oil produced in our region is consumed here, and only what’s left is supplied outside. You were very lucky to have tasted our olive oil in the south. ]

Since it was rare, she couldn’t just buy one bottle. In a country where people usually bought wine as souvenirs, Hyeji stocked up on a whole crate of olive oil.

Of course, they bought wine too. Not in an ordinary way, either.

In the wine section of the shop, there was something that looked like a gas pump. It even had prices listed per liter, just like a gas station. It was the first time she had ever seen a place where customers could fill bottles with as much wine as they wanted.

“Clever.”

“And insightful, too.”

“Insightful?”

“If cars burn gasoline to move forward, then people burn alcohol to get the energy to move forward.”

She didn’t know if such a drunkard’s philosophy was really behind it, but if you found something you couldn’t see in Korea, it was only proper for a traveler to try it. For fun, the two of them “fueled up” a bottle of Merlot.

Meanwhile, Lake Garda was too beautiful to just buy olive oil and leave. They decided to stay the night and rented a lakeside villa.

According to Kanghyeon, having a house by a lake in Europe meant you were rich. Just like having a Han River view apartment in Seoul.

“You’ve got a Han River view already, so how about an Alpine lake view next? Want me to buy you one as your next birthday present?”

“No thanks. If I don’t buy it, does that even count as my house?”

The villa they rented probably had a market value comparable to a Han River view apartment. The interior was elegantly and luxuriously furnished like the homes of the rich you only see on YouTube, and the backyard that touched the lake even had a private dock for a yacht.

You could even jump straight into that clear lake from the backyard and swim, yet there was a separate swimming pool as well.

At lunch that day, Kanghyeon and Hyeji sat side by side on a classic stone balcony that looked like something out of The Sound of Music, enjoying the cinematic scenery before them. Between mountain ranges rising like fortress walls, a deep blue lake stretched endlessly. It was a breathtaking sight.

What should a Korean eat in a place like this?

Ramyeon.

More precisely, kimchi buldak ramyeon.

She’d thought the globalization of K-food was just nationalist YouTube exaggeration, but it was real. Everywhere they went, even small neighborhood markets, had buldak ramyeon in multiple varieties.

They were even selling an overseas exclusive not available in Korea, kimchi buldak ramyeon, so she’d bought some as souvenirs. She’d planned to cook them at home, but since their lodging had a kitchen, and it had been over ten days since leaving Korea, it was time for a kimchi refill.

Below the mountains where Heidi or Sister Maria might come spinning through spring flowers singing, the two of them twirled noodles that smelled strongly of kimchi around forks like Italians and put them into their mouths.

“……”

They just chewed and stared at each other. In truth, Hyeji believed buldak ramyeon should be eaten with a soft-fried egg or cheese, so she’d never tried them with kimchi. Kanghyeon, oddly lacking in human warmth, had never even tried buldak ramyeon before.

Honestly, most people wouldn’t think of topping something spicy with something else spicy. Of course, Koreans are a people who dip peppers into gochujang.

Anyway, they’d tried it without much expectation, worried it might be some bizarre monstrosity they’d take one bite of and throw away.

“Isn’t it okay? The tanginess goes really well with it.”

The sauce and the sour kimchi matched so well that she thought she might just mix stir-fried kimchi into regular buldak ramyeon at home from now on. It was like warm, thick bibim naengmyeon. But it wasn’t strange at all. It tasted like it would be perfect with pork belly as a topping.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good. Ah, but it’s too spicy. How do you even eat this?”

Despite not looking like it, Kanghyeon was weak to spice. After two bites, he complained it was too spicy and only drank water. And so, the kimchi buldak ramyeon became entirely Hyeji’s.

Good thing we only cooked one.

She couldn’t even finish a single pack of ramyeon on her own to begin with, and just as she was starting to feel full and her fork slowed down, something gently tickled Hyeji’s sense of smell.

This familiar scent is… meat grilling over charcoal?