I have always found a profound joy in the act of cooking.
When the family gathers, I naturally find my place in the kitchen.
The slow-cooked stews and simmering hot pots that demand time and patience are usually my responsibility.
Confidence grew with every dish, and the simple pleasure of receiving a compliment for a well-made meal eventually turned a hobby into a calling.
As time passed, I began to dream of becoming a chef, and a personal philosophy regarding food began to take shape. Today, I would like to share some of those reflections.
A seven-kilogram fresh Norwegian salmon. The heads are grilled and served as part of every menu course.
"Cooking is a creative endeavor, and food is culture."
First, cooking is the bridge between one life and another.
To take in food is to enter a relationship with another living being. I pay my respects to the life that has been passed on to me through the food I prepare.
This nourishment becomes the energy for my thoughts and movements, and eventually, it forms the very physical structure of my body.
In the end, what I eat is what I am.
Therefore, I see food as something far more meaningful than mere calories; it is a cycle of sustaining and giving life.
When we recognize food as life itself, we feel its preciousness more deeply.
When one understands how the tuna resting on the cutting board traveled to reach this moment, the heart can only become humble.
Second, cooking is a creative activity.
The constant search for flavor is much like a composer seeking the perfect notes for a masterpiece.
Cooking is no different.
From the same ingredients, a chef adds their unique colors to create an infinite variety of dishes.
Have you ever tried a pork belly clear soup?
Once a month, our team members take turns showcasing their culinary skills.
While we call it a showcase, it is essentially our way of preparing family meals for one another.
On my turn, I opened the refrigerator and found pork belly and zucchini.
Wondering what I could create, I experimented and came up with a new dish.
I called it my 'pork belly clear soup.'
I wondered if the heavy flavor of pork could truly work in a light, clear broth, but our staff were amazed by the unexpected taste.
If this is not creativity, what is?
A quarter section of a Bluefin tuna body. This piece alone is about 50kg, meaning the whole fish, including the head, weighed approximately 220kg.
Third, cooking possesses individuality.
Just as every person has their own character, every dish carries the unique flavor profile of its maker.
This individuality often defines the standard of a restaurant.
It is this distinct personality that determines why we choose to visit one place over another, regardless of price.
The guests who visit our restaurant are looking for that same distinction.
Most who dine with us leave satisfied, return again, and even recommend us to others.
Our survival depends on this, but more importantly, it depends on the unique quality of our tuna.
We focus on complete thawing, generous thickness, and careful moisture removal to present each piece with absolute clarity.
This requires a tremendous amount of quiet dedication.
While a guest may not need to know the effort behind a single slice of sashimi, it is that very devotion that makes a return visit inevitable.
Even for sashimi, which uses no fire, the process is this intense; other forms of cooking are surely no different.
Each dish cultivates a different personality, and that personality becomes a special point of differentiation.
A tuna head. Though we do not serve it in our shop, I wanted to share this striking image.
Fourth, cooking is the art of sincere service to humanity.
The knives at Goldtuna all bear a common inscription.
'To find joy in the art of heartfelt hospitality.'
Serving people through food is a meditative theme for me, one that I have contemplated for a long time.
Most guests visit to satisfy a physical hunger. I perform the act of preparing and offering that satisfaction.
In return, they provide compensation.
While it is a simple exchange, I try to look beyond the transaction. I refuse to see this profession or this food merely as a means to earn a living.
The act of providing a meal to someone who is hungry.
I want to center my work on that act of service itself.
This is how I find dignity in my life and meaning in my occupation.
What could be a more precious way to give and share?
Presenting a meal is a form of devotion; it is a sacred duty.
Though, in truth, almost every vocation in the world carries its own sacredness when done with a pure heart.
Fifth, food is culture.
They say that to know a nation, you must know its food. Eating is an act of understanding a culture.
Furthermore, food serves as the thread that connects one person to another.
It gathers us together and softens the boundaries of our bodies and minds.
Through this, food forms a culture and builds strong teamwork among those who share it.
We see this happen here every day.
Guests often walk in looking stiff or awkward, but as they enjoy the meal, they become more human.
Their faces take on a warm, pleasant glow.
Occasionally, I even see people leaving while holding hands affectionately.
These are the reflections I have gathered over time.
Food is an expression of care, gratitude, and communication.
It is where joy and culture reside.
Because of this, food should never be handled carelessly.
Those who handle ingredients must do so with the highest respect and quiet dedication.
I opened this restaurant with such a heart, and I truly love this work.
Cooking is creativity, a way to serve others through nourishment, and a cultural act of joy. It is how I express my individuality, connect with others, and help life flourish.