Chapter 1: Spaghetti Bolognese

“So you’re asking me to teach you how to cook a fancy dinner because you remembered that I’m a chef?”

Minseok, Jongdae’s uptight chef roommate, says giving Jongdae the worst side eye he has ever seen on the older man ever since he moved in a few months back. They’re watching some crappy Kdrama on TV and the main girl had just confessed her feelings to her first love. And sadly, Jongdae can commiserate. That moment of silence that can either make or break your immediate future is tense. And he doesn’t know who is more anxious, sad heroine, Park Yejin, or he, Kim Jongdae.

 “Yeah?” he says rather. Jongdae doesn’t flinch under Minseok’s heavy gaze, but both he and Minseok know—Jongdae’s under the pump.

Minseok then gives him a look over. Observing Jongdae’s stoic, yet tense figure.

“And how do I benefit from this little arrangement?”

“I don’t know. You choose. I can do anything. I’m desperate.” Jongdae makes a grab at Minseok’s shoulders and regrets it immediately. Minseok looks at the cowering man, hands desperate and pleading against his shoulder, then giving him a venomous stare down.

Jongdae immdeately withdraws, flashing Minseok a sheepish grin.

Minseok shakes his head, “Okay, but only if you can bus tables”

Jongdae’s face lights up as soon as Minseok utters his affirmation and bows at him, thanking him to high heavens before composing himself. Thanking his lucky stars that he was desperate for cash back when he was in college.

“I used to bus tables when I was in college.”

“Good. We need a substitute busboy for dinner service on Friday,” Minseok looks at Jondgae’s thoughtful face, “We’ll pay you, just show up.”

Jongdae nods vigorously, head bobbing rapidly as he bounces up and down the couch.

“Thanks! Just make sure that whatever you teach me can get me laid”

Minseok shakes his head, “Don’t worry I have the perfect recipe to get you laid.”

Jongdae give Minseok an excited grin, “You’re a lifesaver.”

“That I am, so come on, the lesson’s about to start.”

“Wait, now?”

Minseok rises from the couch, pushing Jongdae off of it as well as he walks to their kitchen.

The main reason Minseok chose Jongdae to be his roommate all those months ago, was because of the kitchen. Because of the weird orientation of Jongdae’s apartment, the kitchen was larger than most unit in his building. And Minseok was pleased to know that Jongdae, unlike most people his age, actually cooked, so the kitchen wasn’t just stuffed with processed meats, but actual grown from the earth food. And in this day and age, that’s rare.

But what Jongdae called a respectable kitchen under his care, became a downright masterpiece as soon as Minseok braved into the new space.

Minseok was a clean freak through and through, and that held especially true in regards to his kitchen. Jongdae had happily given the reigns of the kitchen to Minseok, leaving the maintenance and upkeep to the experienced chef. Now, their kitchen was fully stocked, meticulously organized, and immaculately clean.

Just one of the perks for having a chef as a roommate.

“So what dish are you going to teach me today?” Jongdae asks entering the kitchen.

“Spaghetti,” Minseok replies, head by the color-coordinated spice rack, grabbing bottles as he started rummaging through the kitchen.

“What!? I can make spaghetti easy, I thought you had the perfect recipe for me to get laid?”

Minseok shakes his head as he starts bringing out two plastics of meat and various vegetables from their fridge. He drops them all into the sink and runs the water, then looks over at Jongdae.

Funny thing about their fridge, it was once a sad, old thing that Jongdae’s dad donated to him when he first moved in. However, after Minseok cursed to high heavens and back at how unsanitary and inefficient their fridge was, the man, with his own savings, bought them a state of the art fridge with humidity control and coolness levels.

Sometimes Jongdae wondered how much money his roommate made, and how much he was willing to spend to beautify their kitchen.

“It will, because this isn’t just some meat sauce. We’re making Bolognese the Italian way.”

Jongdae’s heard that word before, but just couldn’t place it, “And what pray tell is that?”

“Pasta with ragu,” Minseok says, now grabbing heads of onion and garlic from their little rack beside the burner.

“Ragawhat now?”

“It’s fancy meat sauce to you”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, question: Have you made spaghetti before?” Minseok says producing a cutting board and placing it in the center of their island.

“Yeah.”

Minseok nods “How do you usually make it?”

“Well, I cook onions and garlic, throw in the meat, throw in the tomato sauce, boom.” Minseok hums in response, now busy with getting a bunch of tomatoes from his little basket he’d placed beside the fridge.

“Okay, another: What’s the first thing you do whenever you cook?”

“Uh wash my hands?”

“After that.”

“Uh, chop vegetables?”

Minseok shakes his head, “Have you hear of mise en place?”

“You have to stop with the foreign languages Minseok, it’s grating to my ear.”

Minseok shakes his head as he prepares a wooden spoon, a pair tongs, and some teaspoons, placing them into a small bowl.

“It’s French for putting into place.”

“That helps, why?”

“It’s a term chefs use, meaning that before you even think of turning on your stove, everything that you have to cook should be cut, sliced, diced, cleaned, chopped, or marinated,” Minseok says grabbing carrots and celery from his bowl of bathing vegetables.”

Jongdae nods as he follows Minseok’s actions.

“So, before you attempt to do anything, especially if it’s your first time doing a dish, it’s best that you have everything prepared,” he explains, finally ending his adventure around the kitchen and standing in front of Jongdae, “having a notepad helps.”

Minseok looks at him with a quirk of his eyebrow, Jongdae only noticing belatedly that his roommate was hinting that it was his que to get an pad.

“For this we need—” Minseok looks at Jongdae, “—better take note of this—” Jongdae scrambles for a pen and paper nearby and goes into jotting down Minseok’s instructions.

“Onion, garlic, carrots and celery,” Minsok finishes, “That’s the vegetables, for the spices you need dried oregano, thyme, basil, and paprika.”

Minseok looks at Jongdae after narrating the ingredients, the pupil gingerly scratching the ingredients into his little pad of paper.

“I hope you know how to use a knife,” Minseok asks eyebrows raised, clearly dubious about Jongdae’s prowess in the kitchen.

“Yes, Minseok, I know how to use a knife,” Jongdae says, and to prove a point he grabs their chef’s knife and a plump tomato. He makes a show of his grip to the clearly amused Minseok and starts chopping the fruit with a startling degree of finesse. Jongdae glides the knife across the red flesh, fingers tucked in, blade facing away from him. He moves in a circular motion, tip of the blade never leaving the surface of the board.

Minseok looks at him with pleasant surprise, “Well, that’s a one thing down. I never knew you were this good with a knife.”

Jongdae flashes Minseok a smirk, eyes crinkling in petty victory, “That’s not the only thing I’m good at,” he says eyebrows raised as he gives other a cheeky smirk.

“You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

 Minseok shakes his head, “Anyway, now that you’ve made this teaching job a bit easier, we’ll move on to the meat.”

Jongdae smiles and moves to the two packets of ground meat that Minseok had grabbed from the fridge, “Teach me how to make this lump of fat into in your mouth.”

Minseok snickers at his roommate’s antics, grabbing a saucepan and putting it on the stove.

“Now, usually people just chuck in everything into the pan without a care in the world.” Minseok grabs a bottle of olive oil and drizzles ribbons of the golden liquid into the pan.

“The secret to cooking good food is making the most out of each of your ingredients.”

Jongdae nods as Minseok grabs the lumps of ground meat, dropping both into the heated pan.

“Making good meat sauce begins, well, with the meat, in this case ground pork and beef.”

“Why both?”

“Why have one when you can have both?”

Jongdae had not argument against that.

“Other people would choose to saute the vegetables first, but that takes away the potential of the meat.” Minseok starts stirring the meat together, making sure to incorporate pork and beef into each other until it made an indistinguishable mush of grey, “Doing that drowns the meat without allowing it to shine.”

“You talk about food as if you’re going to start revering it,” Jongdae chuckles lightly watching as Minseok moves around the kitchen.

He had to admit, there was a certain grace around Minseok as he stirred, no, glided around the kitchen. Every movement was purposeful and calculated, even the way he stirred the meat was with brazen assurance and intent, that it seemed like he was performing a surgical operation rather than Monday’s dinner.

“I hold more respect for food compared to most human beings,” Minseok says dryly, still stirring the meat around. It should have sounded like a light joke, but it sounded more like a jibe at something only Minseok knew. Jongdae chooses to ignore this as the scent of cooking meat roused through their quaint kitchen.

“Anyway, to make a really great meat sauce you have to season and brown your meat instead of letting it sit in liquid for hours.” Minseok grabs the spices and herbs he had prepared and started to pouring it one by one into the cooking meat. 

Jongdae nods, “Don’t you need more oil to do that?”

Minseok shakes his head, “The fat from the meat will do that for you.”

Jongdae nods as Minseok does a final stir of the meat, then put his wooden spoon down and gestures Jongdae to head to the cutting board.

“You’re just going to leave that there?”

Minseok nods, “It takes time, we’re going to chop while it cooks.”

Jongdae scurries to the vegetables, Minseok following behind.

“Hey, I thought you said something about being mis en , why didn’t we do this before cooking your meat,” Jongdae jibes poking at Minseok’s sides.

Minseok shoos his hand away, glowering slightly at the gesture.

 “Firstly, it’s mise en place, and part of it is knowing how to not waste your time,” Minseok says grabbing a handful of tomatoes and piling them into a bowl before handing them over to Jongdae, “Cooking the meat is lengthy, so cutting the vegetables before cooking the meat just leaves you with sad veg, and no one wants that.”

Jongdae nods, “Are you sure you’re not bullting me because you got it wrong?”

Minseok smacks him upside the head, “Start chopping, genius.”

The two then settle into a comfortable silence as the two go to work chopping and dicing. Only the sound of knife pushing through vegetables and the distinct crackle of browning meat wafting through the kitchen. From time to time, Minseok would check on the meat.  He stirs it, revealing golden nuggets of meat, the oil still clinging to it as it comes to the surface, the bottom of the pan being replaced by the dull meat that resided at the top, a renewed sizzle resounding through the kitchen as their little kitchen worked with silent efficiency.

Jongdae got his first glimpse into Minseok’s talent and experience once he saw how fast his roommate was chopping the vegetables. The trained chef showing off his knife skills as he breezed his way through the carrots and celery, his knife motion fluid and unhurriedly quick. Minseok slicing paper thin sheets of carrots without a hitch.

“How many carrots do you have to chop to get that quick?”

Minseok is taken out of his austere concentration to look over at Jongdae, “Oh, well right now I don’t do the prep for the vegetables, the line chefs do that. But from when I was still training, I’d say hundreds in a week.”

“Wow, isn’t it tiring?”

“Yeah, but it’s part of the job, you have to learn to love it if you want to go far.”

Jongdae didn’t know much about his roommate, but what he did know was that Minseok was extremely dedicated to his job. The left at eight in the morning and got back past midnight absolutely exhausted. Jongdae can’t count how many times he’s seen him fall asleep still in his dirtied chef jacket. At one point, he thought Minseok surgically attached his uniform to his body.

Jongdae nods, going back to chopping his tomatoes, while Minseok checked the meat once again.

“This looks about done,” Minseok says while grabbing a bowl from the top shelf, “Are you done there?”

“Yes, chef!” Jongdae scream after sliding the last of the tomatoes into his bowl, “Do people really say that?”

Minseok is pouring the meat into the bowl he had just grabbed and is now reaching for the onions. Jongdae sees the meat, perfectly browned and crisp.

“Yes, it’s imperative that they do.” He’s sautéing the onions in the pan, the miniscule turning chop turning into mush against the heat of the pan. Jongdae can see the residue from the meat—sticky sugars and fat painting the pan in streaks of gold and brow. Minseok moves the onions about, the liquid from it softening the deposits the meat left in the pan. Then Minseok adds in the other vegetables, any residue left now gone.  The vegetables mopping the pan clean.

“Taste the meat,” Minseok orders while he softens the vegetables.

Jongdae obliges without a word, grabbing a spoon and getting himself a generous amount and placing it into his mouth.

Jongdae is surprised at how much flavor is in the meat. It’s intense, a smoky flavor rising behind his throat and a strong meatiness invading his tongue.

“Holy , this is good,” Jongdae moans into his spoon.

Minseok smiles, and grabs the rest of the meat, depositing it into the pan, mixing it with the softened vegetables.

“As I said, we’re trying to get the most flavor from the meat that’s why we browned it at first, to get all the sugars out. Then we let the vegetables in anything the meat left behind. The next part is getting the most flavor from the tomatoes.”

Jongdae nods, taking that as his que to grab his supremely chopped tomatoes. He hands the bowl to Minseok who dumps it into the meat, the plump flesh of the tomato wilting into the hot mixture.

“To get the most flavor out of your tomatoes you need time and a bit of patience,” Minseok says once again mixing the sauce, the tomatoes secreting a fair amount of juice as it is being stirred, “The flavor of the tomato gets more intense the longer you cook it, so you can make this the night before and it’ll still taste great.”

Minseok grabs a tube of tomato paste from the cabinet before squirting a generous amount into the sauce, mixing again as the red mixes into the sauce, the concoction looking more and more like a true meat sauce.

Jongdae stares in awe as the scent of meat and tomatoes mingle in the air and his nostrils, the grand spectacle of cooking meat completely riveting Jongdae.

“Jongdae, there’s an opened bottle of wine in the fridge, please get it.”

“Is this a celebratory drink?”

“No, it’s for the sauce.”

Jongdae grimaces at the rejection of drinking wine, quickly rummaging through the fridge, immediately finding a lonely bottle of wine that was just begging to be finished. But he relents, grabbing it and handing it over to Minseok. Grimace still etched on his face.

Minseok shakes his head as he accepts the bottle, “Don’t worry drunkard, this is cheap wine. I only ever use this for cooking.”

“Wine is wine, Minseok.” Jongdae remarks.

Minseok rolls his eyes, pouring half of what’s left in the bottle into the sauce before closing it up again.

“There, I left enough for when you cook this up for your date. Don’t drink it.”

Jongdae grimaces again, reluctantly putting the wine back into the fridge.

Minseok finishes stirring, tapping his wooden spoon into the side of the pan before reducing the heat of the pan and looking up at Jongdae, “We’re about done, we just have to prepare the water for the pasta.”

Jongdae nods, grabbing a deep pot and filling it with water, he places it on the stovetop and fires it up.

Jongdae knows about this much, he throws a generous amount of salt into the pot, he then moves to where the oil stands.

 A handful of salt a generous amount of oil so that the pasta doesn’t stick, that’s what his mother taught him.

But before he can drop the oil into the pot, Minseok’s hand stops him.

“What?”

“You don’t have to put oil,” Minseok says taking the oil can away from Jongdae.

“Won’t the pasta stick?” Jongdae asks, “Surely this isn’t wrong as well.”

Minseok shakes his head, “Old wives’ tale. It’s actually the rolling boil that keeps them from sticking.”

After about an hour Minseok and Jongdae head back into the kitchen. The two pots were bubbling away nicely, the tomato sauce looking thick and lustrous, oil wading sensually atop the meat and tomato, while the water was at a steady roll.

Jongdae smiles at the sight.

“This looks great.”

“Of course it does, I made it,” Minseok blurts out.

Jongdae rolls his eyes as he gets the dried spaghetti and prepares to put it into the pot, “Is this right, or am I committing another culinary sin?” he asks Minseok, eyes raised in sarcastic questioning.

“You’re doing it right out of the cookbook,” Minseok replies heading over to the sauce, mixing it and letting the oil mix in with the other components.

Jongdae snickers as he drops the pasta into the pot, “I’m glad my cooking prowess has surpassed your expectations.”

Minseok just gets a spoon and gets a bit of the sauce, blowing on it and gesturing for Jongdae to taste. His roommate responds with a quirk of an eyebrow, “Well aren’t you the flirtatious one?”

Minseok just shoves the spoon into Jongdae’s opened mouth, snickering as he chokes on the sauce. Eventually, after a bit of coughing and over exaggerated choking, Jongdae manages to swallow the sauce with gratifying gulp. His eyes light up immediately after getting a taste of it.

The meat and tomatoes settled nicely into each other, and rather than being tart it was meaty, the sourness of the tomato seemingly adding to the intense flavor of the meat.

“Wow, that’s good,” he moans, fully appreciating the magic Minseok had weaved into such a simple dish. All his mother’s dishes would be put to shame at the sight of this sauce.

Minseok has a satisfied smirk on his face before going to the cupboard and getting their tub of sugar, “Just wait.”

Minseok then takes a spoonful of sugar and sprinkles it over the sauce. The white sugar crystals yield to the sauce immediately, the pristine white being embraced by the violent red of the tomato.

Minseok mixes the sauce slowly, letting the sugar mix thoroughly before grabbing another spoon and getting a hefty amount, gesturing for Jongdae to taste.  Jongdae doesn’t question, immediately leaning opening his mouth to greet the sauce.

And, for what seems like the millionth time that day, Jongdae is shocked into silence.

“How?” he gasps in utter shock.

Minseok just smiles

Jongdae could still taste the deep flavor of the meat, the fragrance from the herbs, and the subtle tartness from the tomato. But now. Now it just felt like the sauce lifted, it didn’t taste sweet, not in the slightest. Rather, it tasted complete.

“The sugar balances out the tartness form the tomato and the saltiness from the meat. It cuts through the fat as well. The sugar just balances things out,” Minseok explains, “Some people don’t realize making good dishes is engaging every aspect of your palette. It’s a constant balancing act not a lot of people understand,” Minseok says ruefully.

Jongdae notes the

Minseok starts checking the pasta, grabbing a pair of tongs and getting a strand out of the boiling water before pinching the strand between his fingers, unperturbed by the heat of the pasta. He then moves the pot to the back of the stove. He grabs another saucepan then drizzles another helping of olive oil, making sure the pan was fully coated.

Jongdae looks at him and trust that whatever he does is something that can only make the dish better.

“Few things to note, cook the pasta just below al dente,” Minseok explains as he grabs the pasta and drops it into the pan, “That’s around five minutes.”

Minseok grabs a strand and hands it to Jongdae, as he bites into it, he realizes that it is not fully cooked, the middle still stiff and dry. Minseok sees him surveying the frayed strand, and give him a reassuring smile.

“It’s supposed to be a bit stiff, since we’ll be cooking it in the sauce.”

Jongdae nods as Minseok begins spooning sauce into the pasta, then mixing it vigorously. He then proceeds to add the water from the pot. Minseok looking at Jongdae as he does this.

 “Always leave a bit of pasta water to add into the spaghetti as you cook it. The white residue is starch, it thickens the sauce and makes it stick to the pasta.”

Jongdae observes how Minseok, once again, demonstrate his grace in the kitchen. Jongdae never though that mixing pasta could look so sensual, but Minseok is making a very strong case.

The way he moves with ferocity and finesse without breaking a sweat, nor making a mess, baffles Jongdae. His intensity as he moves the pasta around in the pan, as if confined to its own universe, the strands the stars and Minseok their master.

Minseok turns him on, though he will never admit to this. Never.

“Jongdae!”

The younger man is brought out of his manic staring by Minseok screaming into his face.

“Yo, I know the pasta looks good, but you have to stop staring at it.”

Jongdae is stirred to attention, thankful that Minseok is extremely unaware that he is an attractive human being.

It’s a fact that has constantly baffled Jongdae, because Minseok is very attractive. He has an extremely youthful face that should be considered cute, but Minseok grimaces and frowns too much. But when Minseok is asleep, face relaxed and forehead absent of wrinkled frustration, Jongdae can see the full cheeks and soft expression and its downright endearing. Not to mention that Minseok is ripped. Honestly, Jongdae doesn’t understand how even surrounded by food his roommate had time to work on his abs.

So yeah, technically, Minseok is attractive.

But what baffles Jongdae more is that fact that he never acknowledges other peoples advances. He’s seen so many winks from waiters and waitresses directed at his roommate that the older man had outright ignored.

Jongdae confronted him about it what time, Minseok never looked more perplexed.

Jongdae is convinced that Minseok is dense or doesn’t think people find him attractive.

But as he grabs the parmesan, peeking over at Minseok plating the pasta into two plates with a sort reserved grace, he can’t help but think that maybe there’s something deeper to his roommate’s unawareness.

Heck, Jongdae doesn’t know how many times he’s seen Minseok’s rock hard abs without sporting a raging . (A secret he will take to the grave.)

Jongdae finally hands over the block of parmesan that Minseok keeps, the elder grating a generous amount onto their plates.

“Here’s your on plate,” he says pointing at the plates of pasta.

It looks a marvel, spaghetti perfectly molded into a spiral tower of tomato and ground meat, a pale crown of parmesan adorning its head, droplets of olive oil falling serenely down the lacquered pasta.

Minseok instructs Jongdae to setup the table. Jongdae grabs both plates two forks and proceeds to their dining room, Minseok following him after a while lugging two bottles of wine as he enters.

“Are you planning to get plastered tonight?”

Minseok shakes his head as he sits down opposite Jongdae, “Not really, but you can’t expect me to eat this without some Barolo don’t you.”

“Your word didn’t turn up in Jongdae’s dictionary, better explain.”

Minseok gives him an even expression, “It’s Italian red wine, that’s the only thing you have to know. Fortunately for you, I have two. So we’ll have one tonight and you can serve the other one to your date.”

Jongdae looks just a bit shell-shocked at Minseok’s generosity. He never thought stingy Minseok with the sharp tongue and the eye roll would ever gift him wine, an expensive one.

Minseok notices the lost expression on Jongdae’s face, “Hey, I can be nice when I want to be.”

Jongdae manages to get something out his mouth, “But this is beyond the level of kindness I usually receive.”

Minseok shrugs, “You were a good student.”

“Still doesn’t explain this,” Jongdae says pouring himself a glass.

“Contrary to popular belief—by that I mean yours—the reason I cook is too see people happy, and you’ve been smiling nonstop ever since we started the lesson,” Minseok explains taking the bottle and pouring himself a glass, “So I’m happy.”

Jongdae doesn’t say anything, just takes a bite of the pasta and moans.

He then moans.

“Jesus Christ, this is good!”

Minseok flashes him a smile as he digs in as well.

Author’s Note:

I don’t know how, but this just happened. I might be shooting myself in the foot by attempting to maintain three stories, but whatever.

This just came up last night after realizing that

 1) There are not enough Xiuchen fics in this world.

 2) Food fics are hard to find. Good ones harder.

3) There are not enough Xiuchen fics in this world.

Anyway, this is gonna be shor-ish depends on how I pace it, but everything will revolve around a certain dish.

Also, everything stated about food is true, the techniques do work and if you have working knowledge of food, you can make ragu. You should it’s great.

Anyway, tell me what you think about it and if you guys like where this is going.

Till next time!