Pearl sighed, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Let’s get out of here and go somewhere cool. Jutuk and I have something to tell you.”
Chapter 17 - Pearl
Mise en plas.
The kitchen technique where everything was in its place... ready and waiting. I’d always thought of the kitchen as a sort of battlefield, and the method of running a good kitchen was like preparing for combat.
Know your enemy.It was knowing what the diners were hungry for. Whether fish and chips, a five-star meal or alien chicken.
Be mentally prepared for hell on Earth.At the height of the dinner rush, the kitchen was physically exhausting and mentally demanding, but also exciting, with never a dull moment.
Master your weapons, be it knife, whisk, or strainer. The better one was with the tools, the better the food.
Always remember that everyone is an important part of a team.From the head chef to the server, everyone’s role was integral.
Plan how you’ll react, and what you’ll do in various circumstances. Even the best chef suffered a customer complaint from time to time.
Most importantly, take care of your feetbecause sitting down was not an option.
I was proud of my menu... especially the way the alien ingredients melded with the Earth recipes. The Tomato Crostini was tart and crunchy, the boeuf bourguignon mouthwatering as usual, and I’d whipped the weird little alien potato to perfection,creating a dish that tasted like buttery mashed potatoes with bacon. The greens I found to sauté didn’t turn out bitter thanks to the alien sweetener I’d found at the market. My version of angel food cake with chocolate sauce was delicate, with just the perfect crust. But the thing that gave me the most pride was the Chili. The dish turned out spicy and savory, perfectly camouflaging the taste of the behia. I imagined my grandmother looking down on me from heaven with proud tears in her eyes.
I knew at least a couple of party guests who approved of the menu. Chancellor Qaimus and his obnoxious wife Ordeesia couldn’t resist stopping by earlier for a taste test. After which, Ordeesia pouted and whined for her husband to steal me for their kitchen.
When hell froze over.
Of course, I was grateful that the two of them begged for a taste of the Chili. From Jala’s description, I thought the stroaig might taste a little like venison—which was my grandmother’s favorite for making the dish. I simply added a few steps to tenderize the meat and give it a melt-on-the-tongue texture. With the addition of alien tomatoes and the spices Jutuk and I purchased from the market, no one could taste the difference. The Chancellor and his missus certainly couldn’t.
The market.
The gash on Jutuk’s shoulder had been to the bone, requiring several stitches and a rather stern tongue lashing from Jala about turning her station into a war zone. Personally, I couldn’t be prouder of how he fought to protect me.
My mate.
Mine.
My cheeks flushed even hotter remembering how I’d pounced on him, using my body to show my gratitude and affection again and again, until we both fell into a sweaty, sated sleep.
Jutuk was always a sight to behold, but in the midst of battle, he’d transformed into an otherworldly being, exuding power and grace like a deity. With each movement, he radiated strength and elegance, not just a man, but a masterpiece in motion. It was both thrilling and terrifying. Even surrounded by danger, he exuded an aura of safety and strength that was intoxicating. It was a feeling I couldn’t shake off, like a fever that refused to break. Never before had I been so consumed by someone, so overcome with passion and longing. Jutuk was an exhilarating experience, igniting desires within me I never knew existed. I couldn’t get enough of him.
Of course, nervous anticipation assaulted me for an altogether different reason as I watched the servers carry out the last course of the evening.
I’d managed the chaos like a maestro conductingFlight of the Bumblebees. The rhythm of the kitchen was the heartbeat of a sentient organism, one that lived and breathed, and on occasion misbehaved. Every plate required perfect appointment, and every display demanded a masterpiece of color, texture, and taste. When the last dish left the kitchen, it was like a parent watching their child depart for college, and, just for a moment, came a flicker of emptiness before the invariable clean-up began.
The job done, the harem girls scattered to enjoy a moment of blessed freedom, all but Deema and Aqsa. They remained, keeping the kitchen door cracked open so they could watch the dining room beyond.
Jutuk left his perch on the stool. Seriously, how much did I love the way he sat quietly and just watched me do my thing? He came to my side, an arm going around my waist. I leaned against him. The adrenaline flooding my body from the last few hours abating.
“Oooh!” Deema squeaked happily. “Everyone looks to be enjoying the food.”
“What about the Duke?” I couldn’t help but ask. I might have avoided poisoning Duke Ako with the stroaig, but it hadn’t stopped me worrying the Baron would get to him some other way.
“He’s smiling,” Aqsa said, turning to me and doing the same, the quills on her head vibrating with pleasure.
“That’s good, right?” I glanced at Jutuk, who took the opportunity to kiss me on the forehead.
“Why are you worried? The Chili was delicious,” my mate gushed. He should know. He’d eaten three bowls earlier.
“I’m competitive,” I chuckled, poking Jutuk playfully in the chest. “I’ve got to be the best!”
