I finally complete a new recipe on the first Monday of July. An ox tongue dish. To remove the white membrane and tendons and the muscle that attaches it to the throat, I take a small, sharp knife and move it precisely in short strokes and cut out the crimson middle. The more I use my knife, the more it comes alive. My hand becomes the knife, the knife disappearing into my hand, moving freely—this is especially true when I’m holding a piece of meat in my hands. It’s completely different from holding dough or handling delicate vegetables. It’s as if I’m gripping onto a playful but ferocious dolphin and shoving a knife into its body.
In Japan, they believe that drinking tea is a symbol of harmony and balance, like the five fingers on your hand. So five people participate in a tea ceremony. But Chef always drinks tea alone. I take a cup and go to his table and pull up a chair. He reaches out and pours me a cup. What is this tea? It’s yellow and light green and smells of arid dirt. I put my recipe on the table. He looks over the recipe silently and asks, Are you really going to use ox tongue? Skeptically. He can’t understand why it’s tongue, not rib eye or sirloin. If Chef makes a face like that from seeing a recipe, I have to start fresh. He puts it down and tells me my sauce of truffle oil, chopped garlic and onion, thyme, and arugula won’t mask the smell of the meat. The smell of tongue doesn’t disappear completely even after boiling it for six hours with vegetables and strong herbs. The sauce does have to be stronger, but I don’t want to mask the tongue’s true taste. I may have to think more about the sauce. Chef suggests I use watercress instead of arugula. Why didn’t I think of that? I pick up my recipe and give Chef a polite nod.
CHAPTER 31
ARE YOU AWAKE, Se-yeon?
I’m sure your head hurts a little but it’ll get better. I didn’t put that much clove in it, but it’s pretty strong, right? It’s an anesthetic but since it’s also a spice it shouldn’t be harmful. It’s not like precious nutmeg, which can become poisonous. Spices are usually added at the very end but it can be dangerous depending on how they’re used so you have to do it carefully. You should know this because you’re going to teach cooking classes. If you have any other questions, just ask me. I’ll tell you everything I know. Se-yeon, it’s been a while. Was it April when you came to pick up Paulie? It’s the first time since we stood in my yard that day, right? Why were you so surprised when you saw me at Costco today? I was so happy to see you.
Do you still like my kitchen?
I used to cook and read and drink tea and sit here and gaze out the window. And down a glass of cognac under candlelight with him and play with Paulie and listen to music. That feels like it was a really long time ago. It’s only been seven months. A lot of things happened to us. What do you think? You agree with me, right? But I didn’t know I would consider leaving. It’s true that you can’t always live the way you want to. But I guess that’s not the case for you, Se-yeon.
I’m going to cook in this kitchen just two more times. Once for him. And once for you. Tell me what you like. I’ll make it for you. Do you want to eat something in particular? Why are you sweating so much? Do you want some water? If you promise you won’t yell, I’ll take the towel out of your mouth.
The water’s refreshing, isn’t it? Okay, Se-yeon. If you agree with what I’m saying, just nod like that. I’m going to gag you again. Oh, don’t say anything. Don’t say you don’t want to. Don’t ask me to do things that I can’t do for you. I’ll let you drink as much water as you want. Are the knots too tight? But I can’t untie your hands. I don’t want you to get hurt. Let’s just sit here together for a bit. And listen to what I have to say. I have a lot to say to you. I’m going to leave soon so I want to say everything I didn’t say. You’re really pretty even when you’re gagged. Your skin, too, it looks so healthy and young! It makes me want to lick it, like it’s chocolate. I think being beautiful is a good thing for yourself and also for people around you. Because they feel better when they’re just looking at you. It’s like looking at a delicious dish. How old are you again? Twenty-five? Twenty-six? Oh, twenty-seven! It’s a great age. Very few women in the world have everything they want at that age. You’re so lucky.
Tell me if there’s anything you want to eat.
Fruit? Vegetables? Or fish? You should be able to answer such a simple question. I guess you wouldn’t want any meat? Okay, I know. Why would I forget that you’re practically a vegetarian? Of course, this isn’t about you, but vegetarians are annoying. There are so many things to eat in the world and they give up that opportunity, voluntarily. Vegetarians make it impossible for a cook to do her best work. No, I know. I know that you’re not one of those people. But a person who cooks can’t have prejudices against food or be afraid of eating like you are. Not eating is basically a refusal of everything, including sex. And you’re already so thin and you like sleeping with him, isn’t that right? What’s taking you so long, I said I would make whatever you want. Is it because there are too many things you want to eat?
Everyone likes different food. Did you know that Hemingway loved oysters? I think I mentioned it in class once. Kant liked to slather mustard on everything he ate, so he always had a bottle with him. Heraclitus liked greens and vegetables, like you, but he was lonely and quick-tempered. Plato liked olives and dried figs and Heidegger enjoyed potato salad and Diogenes loved wine and Toulouse-Lautrec liked drinking port sprinkled with nutmeg and Cleopatra was partial to the hoof of a baby camel. Just imagine the ecstasy they would have experienced after eating their favorite foods. Don’t you think it would have been beautiful to witness? You know how to make that expression, too, right? I want to see it again. You were really beautiful then. When you were lying together, your thighs on top of each other. Oh, sorry. I happened to catch you back then. That was the most erotic sex I’ve ever seen. Because you were both so immersed in it. I almost fell in love with you then. When your tongues were in each other’s mouths it looked like you were breathing, singing into each other. That amazing feeling, I felt it too. Sex is good, no? Every food is the result of a sexual act of an animal or plant.
You see that basket of fruit on the table? Once I was going to eat an apple but there was this black-bean-like fleck on it. On the surface of the red Jonathan apple. I rubbed it with my finger and it happened to be a piece of black nail polish. This is a little while after you came to my cooking class. Remember? You were the only person who came to learn how to cook with nail polish on. And black, at that. That week we didn’t even have class. Se-yeon, did you come here often when I wasn’t here? Did you sit here with him and eat fruit while I wasn’t home? Even so, you shouldn’t have left behind that fleck of nail polish. Black stands out. Se-yeon, you look like perfect pottery but you have an unexpected carelessness to you. No, I guess it could be all my fault. No matter how tasty and useful a potato is, when it starts to sprout you have to cut it out.
Still not hungry? Then should we make something simple? What about caviar on toast? I wanted to make something special for you. I still have so much to say; it’s a waste to be in the kitchen by myself. But this caviar is excellent, so don’t be disappointed. Should I open the fridge? What do you think? Caviar is so shiny and minuscule, isn’t it? I’m drooling already. I’ll open a bottle of white, too. Oh, but do you like caviar? If you do, you can nod. Oh, not really? Why not? It’s so good. You don’t like it because it looks like ovaries? Or because it’s creepy to see all the little black eggs clustered together? I don’t think you understood what I said. You can’t be so picky when you’re a cook. Don’t you want to be the best cook you can be? In such a perfect kitchen, too. Too bad, even if you don’t like it. We’ll eat this tonight.