Jang-Geum, Part II
When we left Jang-geum, she was on the verge of being executed because she served nutritious vegetable dishes to the Chinese envoy, when all he wanted was sweets and greasy food. Well, after five days of eating Jang-geum’s healthy food, he completely changed his mind. He felt much more vigorous in mind and spirit, and he credited it all to Jang-geum’s courage in insisting he eat the right foods.
This did not go over well with Lady Choi. She had cooked up an entire Feast of Chinese Imperial Household with hopes of putting the (proverbial and literal) final nail in Jang-geum’s coffin, and instead she had to smile sweetly as Jang-geum took all the glory. (And I must credit the actress who plays Lady Choi with being able to perform the perfect “I’m smiling sweetly and subserviently while I’m secretly conniving to murder and pillage and strangle sweet and innocent little babies” look.)
At the same time, the aging and ailing head lady of the royal kitchen, Lady Jung was discovering the depths of Lady Choi’s perfidiousness. I may or may not have explained that Lady Jung’s imminent retirement had motivated the Queen Mother to hold a competition between Lady Han and Lady Choi to see who would become the new head lady of the royal kitchen. A couple episodes back, Lady Jung discovered that Lady Choi had stolen a couple of secret cookbooks from her, which had allowed her to repeatedly trounce Lady Han in the competition. After Lady Jung confronted Lady Choi with this, Lady Choi smiled her SSASWISCTMAPASSAILB smile—and promptly figured out a way to get Lady Jung banished from the castle. In a nutshell, she told the palace guards that Lady Jung had contracted a highly contagious disease and that she needed to be removed immediately. As she was being dragged away, Lady Jung was yelling, “But it’s only my knees that hurt.” And, to top things off, Lady Choi bribed a pharmacist to give Lady Jung medicine that would cause her kidneys to shut down and, eventually, kill her. Lady Jung figured out she was being poisoned in the nick of time, and she told Lady Choi that if she wasn’t allowed to return to the palace the jig would be up—she’d spill everything to the Queen Mother: the stolen cookbooks, the bad kidney medicine, everything. Lady Choi admitted that she had lost the battle, and Lady Jung returned to the palace to the cheers of all the young cooking apprentices, Jang-geum not the least among them.
Meanwhile, Lady Choi and some other head royal lady (I haven’t caught her name yet) were telling the Queen Mother how much their cooking had impressed the Chinese envoy. Lady Choi was just about to suggest that perhaps the competition be ended and she be made the new head lady of the royal kitchen when the Queen walked in with news of Jang-geum’s courageous cooking for the Chinese envoy on behalf of Lady Han. The Queen Mother was infuriated that Lady Choi didn’t think to mention this aspect of the story and immediately proclaimed that the competition was back on with one final task—to cook one dish that is best for the King.
Lady Han and Jang-geum immediately began planning to cook some wonderful dishes for the King. Lady Choi immediately began planning to loose wild chickens into Lady Han’s kitchen and, if that didn’t work, to hire some brigands to kidnap Lady Han when she went out looking for caterpillar mushrooms.
And so the day of the competition arrived, and, unfortunately, Lady Han had been kidnapped while riding a ferryboat with an armful of caterpillar mushrooms. After much fretting, Jang-geum decided that the show must go on with or without Lady Han. She decided to trust in the spirit of her dear mother and just try her best.
But the competition got off to a rocky start. Jang-geum, for some reason known only to herself, decided to serve a soup made from abalone intestines. And, I can tell you, if they taste anything like squid intestines, this is not a good dish to start with. Lady Choi, much more wisely, made her soup from five different nuts and seeds. Round one: Lady Choi.
Lady Choi won another, and things were looking even worse for Jang-geum. But Jang-geum had an ace up her sleeve Lady Choi knew nothing about. Right before she died, Jang-geum’s mother had buried some persimmon vinegar under a tree in the courtyard. Jang-geum dug it up, served it with one of her dishes and deeply impressed the King, who thought it was wonderful that such patience and skill had gone into making the dish.
So Jang-geum won her first round, but just as she was celebrating with a coy and embarrassed smile, the Queen Mother said, “Wait a minute, where’s Lady Han. Why is this apprentice serving all her dishes?” Consternation. Worry. A boldly happy smile creeping across Lady Choi’s face. The credits roll!
This did not go over well with Lady Choi. She had cooked up an entire Feast of Chinese Imperial Household with hopes of putting the (proverbial and literal) final nail in Jang-geum’s coffin, and instead she had to smile sweetly as Jang-geum took all the glory. (And I must credit the actress who plays Lady Choi with being able to perform the perfect “I’m smiling sweetly and subserviently while I’m secretly conniving to murder and pillage and strangle sweet and innocent little babies” look.)
At the same time, the aging and ailing head lady of the royal kitchen, Lady Jung was discovering the depths of Lady Choi’s perfidiousness. I may or may not have explained that Lady Jung’s imminent retirement had motivated the Queen Mother to hold a competition between Lady Han and Lady Choi to see who would become the new head lady of the royal kitchen. A couple episodes back, Lady Jung discovered that Lady Choi had stolen a couple of secret cookbooks from her, which had allowed her to repeatedly trounce Lady Han in the competition. After Lady Jung confronted Lady Choi with this, Lady Choi smiled her SSASWISCTMAPASSAILB smile—and promptly figured out a way to get Lady Jung banished from the castle. In a nutshell, she told the palace guards that Lady Jung had contracted a highly contagious disease and that she needed to be removed immediately. As she was being dragged away, Lady Jung was yelling, “But it’s only my knees that hurt.” And, to top things off, Lady Choi bribed a pharmacist to give Lady Jung medicine that would cause her kidneys to shut down and, eventually, kill her. Lady Jung figured out she was being poisoned in the nick of time, and she told Lady Choi that if she wasn’t allowed to return to the palace the jig would be up—she’d spill everything to the Queen Mother: the stolen cookbooks, the bad kidney medicine, everything. Lady Choi admitted that she had lost the battle, and Lady Jung returned to the palace to the cheers of all the young cooking apprentices, Jang-geum not the least among them.
Meanwhile, Lady Choi and some other head royal lady (I haven’t caught her name yet) were telling the Queen Mother how much their cooking had impressed the Chinese envoy. Lady Choi was just about to suggest that perhaps the competition be ended and she be made the new head lady of the royal kitchen when the Queen walked in with news of Jang-geum’s courageous cooking for the Chinese envoy on behalf of Lady Han. The Queen Mother was infuriated that Lady Choi didn’t think to mention this aspect of the story and immediately proclaimed that the competition was back on with one final task—to cook one dish that is best for the King.
Lady Han and Jang-geum immediately began planning to cook some wonderful dishes for the King. Lady Choi immediately began planning to loose wild chickens into Lady Han’s kitchen and, if that didn’t work, to hire some brigands to kidnap Lady Han when she went out looking for caterpillar mushrooms.
And so the day of the competition arrived, and, unfortunately, Lady Han had been kidnapped while riding a ferryboat with an armful of caterpillar mushrooms. After much fretting, Jang-geum decided that the show must go on with or without Lady Han. She decided to trust in the spirit of her dear mother and just try her best.
But the competition got off to a rocky start. Jang-geum, for some reason known only to herself, decided to serve a soup made from abalone intestines. And, I can tell you, if they taste anything like squid intestines, this is not a good dish to start with. Lady Choi, much more wisely, made her soup from five different nuts and seeds. Round one: Lady Choi.
Lady Choi won another, and things were looking even worse for Jang-geum. But Jang-geum had an ace up her sleeve Lady Choi knew nothing about. Right before she died, Jang-geum’s mother had buried some persimmon vinegar under a tree in the courtyard. Jang-geum dug it up, served it with one of her dishes and deeply impressed the King, who thought it was wonderful that such patience and skill had gone into making the dish.
So Jang-geum won her first round, but just as she was celebrating with a coy and embarrassed smile, the Queen Mother said, “Wait a minute, where’s Lady Han. Why is this apprentice serving all her dishes?” Consternation. Worry. A boldly happy smile creeping across Lady Choi’s face. The credits roll!
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