by Blane Thomas
Corey’s eyes widened. “Thank you, chef! Thank you so much!” he gushed.
Ryan waved his hand again and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about it at all, Corey. It’s the least I can do, after using you to get Theo’s attention. Will you forgive me for that?”
“Water under the bridge, chef,” Corey smiled gleefully.
Ryan hiccoughed and gave out another laugh. “See, you have thick skin. You understand what is at stake, and you are willing to help your old boss right here. See how the world works, Corey? You helped me elevate the Trainyard, and I helped you get a promotion. That’s how humans are supposed to operate – we’re supposed to bring each other up, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, chef! Whole-heartedly!” Corey echoed. He was still excited at the promotion. He daren’t belief it, but here it was – only a fresh two months into the job and he was already the junior chef de partie. Not many people can boast of that achievement!
“Good, good,” Ryan nodded. “We’ll hammer out the details of your promotion tomorrow, when I’m not flagrantly sloshed.”
Corey laughed. “Sure, chef. Thank you again for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
Ryan smiled. His wise eyes twinkled. “You won’t, Corey. And I honestly think that you will be a better chef than Keith.”
“You really think so, chef? You really think that I am better than him?”
The executive chef nodded. “Keep doing what you’re doing, and you will be more successful than him.”
Corey stood up and began to take his leave. He was at the door when he turned around. Ryan’s eyes were half-closed, weighed down by the sheer amount of alcohol in his body. Still, he retained the smile on his face.
“Yes, boy?”
“Chef, you said that I will be a more successful chef than Keith,” Corey asked quietly. “But will I be more skilful than he?”
“Alas boy, in the real world, does it matter?”
Corey pondered on this for a moment. “No, chef. I guess not.”
And he bade Ryan goodbye and left, feeling exhilarated and perplexed by the whole affair.
Chapter 9
It started first by Anais Heart’s article.
Fine dining in the city has turned out to be an outlandish affair. One might consider themselves to be Alice, falling down the rabbit hole, adventuring through the weird, bizarre, and even the unexplainable world when she or he sees the types of restaurants popping up like weeds in the field. While some may criticize me for being unaccepting of new thoughts, favouring a rubrical approach over nonconformity, we have to ponder upon the fact that the backbone of many great civilizations was that of tradition and convention.
I ask you, my fellow readers, what makes good food? What parameters are to be assigned when judging food? Is there a spectrum of colours that must be achieved – that dulcet glint in a puree that looks as though one is looking at marble? Is it perhaps something unexplainable, that ineffable ‘Je Ne Sais Quoi?’
Whatever it is, it is absurd to disassociate chefs from modern-day story tellers. While the traditional wordsmiths craft tales with their extensive lexicon, chefs employ their ingredients to tell the story instead. Cohesiveness is key to understanding food, and this is something I look out for, especially in this day and age, where most chefs just cook for the sake of cooking. Many an establishment flaunt their wine, naturally exquisite ambience, and even efficient maitre’d, but all these elements are the equivalent to bright lights and booming sounds – all to hide an impotent or mediocre show.
The Trainyard however was anything but that.
It sets itself up to be a rather simple, traditional restaurant. Though ambience is necessary, this critic admits to not wanting to have her dining experience ruined by improper light fixtures, Trainyard does not go out of its way to make the atmosphere overwhelming. Simple chairs and tables, an efficient staff, and an exquisite wine collection puts this restaurant on the upper percentile in my opinion.
We came for food, and food was what we got, with a rich hint in story-telling. Each dish in the five-course meal was prepared to utmost perfection. Trainyard’s up and coming chef, Corey Littman…
“There you go, Corey!” Lalitha patted him on the shoulder. “Look at that, your name in a review, in The Verve of all places! And it’s a review by Anais Heart. THE ANAIS HEART!”
“I have to admit,” Gus smiled, eyes wildly running along the thread of every sentence, “… I am a little bit jealous.”
Ryan had especially bought that monthly publication of the magazine and brought it to the restaurant with the biggest grin he could muster. His elation was explained in the review. Anais Heart spared no compliments, describing Corey Littman to be the next ‘It’ chef of Chicago if he ‘played his cards right.’
While many would just look at that sentence as a mere expression, to Corey it reflected his conversation with Ryan. He had the potential to make a name for himself in this big city. All he needed was the right affiliations. Anais Heart’s review was just the stepping stone.
The next two weeks in Trainyard passed happily for Corey. Gus and Lalitha revelled in his success. They were even willing to share their more unique skillsets. Gus taught him how to make the quintessential Julia Child beef bourguignon. Lalitha was excited to even let him in on her secret pastry techniques – how to get that perfect dollop of crème custard without wasting too much time staring at the oven.
Only Keith kept to himself.
After their last conversation, the third senior chef kept his distance from Corey. He went as far as to not look at Corey when he walked past. One thing changed however. He never trusted anyone ever again. After preparing his dishes and placing them on the pick-up counter, Keith would wait patiently till the waiter whisked them away to the diners waiting on the other side. This amused Gus and Lalitha, who taught him to be swallowed by paranoia. But Corey knew that Keith had not forgiven him for tampering with the porcini ravioli and venison dish from two weeks ago.
Ryan was correct. Anais Heart’s review only mattered because she sung praises for Trainyard.
Not three hours after the magazine had hit the stand, their maitre’d had come into the kitchen, wiping her forehead, looking harrowed.
“Full house today, guys! And Clara Bowden is coming!” she said excitedly.
A gasp echoed throughout the mouths of every chef, kitchen helper, all except Keith who could care less. Clara Bowden was a famous actress with her own hit television show. It did not take Corey a long time to figure out that Clara’s show was under Fippo Studios. Perhaps she was also close friends with Anais and Theo.
Ryan clapped his hands, unable to contain his excitement. “All right people, we have a full house ahead of us, so let’s do the thing we do best!”
His pep talk roused the kitchen’s spirit, and everyone worked harder than usual. Even Corey, who had been given his own workstation, felt his chest swelling with excitement. The adrenaline rush was addictive, and he had to take deep breaths as he chopped carrots and deboned fish under Ryan’s watchful eye. He had no time to think of Keith. This was his opportunity to shine. A road was revealed in front of him – the path to fame and fortune, and all he had to do was walk it.
And walk it he shall, no matter what the cost!
Chapter 10
Corey worked long hours in the Trainyard. With his own workstation, Ryan had trusted him with the honour of preparing the entrees. An increase in his pay, and the title of a junior chef, Corey was exhilarated to prove himself.
Though validation was important, it was Keith’s he craved the most, but it never came.
Corey became the apple of Ryan’s eyes. Not only was he good in the kitchen, he was an extremely handsome, charming man.
Occasionally, Ryan would gesture at Corey to come out of the kitchen and meet with some of their important patrons for the day. Though this did not happen every day, on the days it did, Theo would be one of the guests dining too. With his
influence, he had brought the famous and rich into Trainyard, elevating its reputation throughout the whole of the city.
Theo would watch with his silent smile as Corey shook hands with the patrons that day. All he would offer Corey was a brief nod and a wink of his seductive eyes. Corey had to admit, he enjoyed the rather peculiar attention Theo afforded him. He was becoming more popular amongst the patrons.
“Really, Ryan, I hope you keep Corey around and pay him well!” one popular singer gushed one day as he chewed on the venison prepared by Gus. “Corey cooked this venison to perfection!”
“Actually, I-“ Corey wanted to correct the patron when Ryan interjected.
“Oh, trust and belief, Justin!” Ryan laughed happily, slapping Corey on the shoulder. “Corey is my golden boy. He is so skilful when it comes to the main courses!”
Corey did not understand why Ryan would lie so blatantly about his skills. And Ryan was so willing to elevate Corey upon a higher pedestal, at the risk of putting Gus’ down. When he had asked Ryan about it in his office, this was what Ryan said:
“Ah, who cares if you or Gus cooked it?” He drank his whisky in a gulp. “All that matters is they love it, and they love YOU!”
“But, chef…,” Corey hesitated, “… Gus took a long time to prepare it.”
“Gus is not who they are coming to see, Corey. You are,” Ryan said with finality. “And Theo was the one who requested that you be brought out to be introduced to the chefs.”
Chapter 11
Smaller, but significant reviews of Trainyard popped up in other local magazines and food critique websites. All of them sung praises for the restaurant, especially Corey. This brought about a small shift of power in Trainyard’s kitchen. Corey, though younger in age and experience, was slowly elevated upwards.
Gus and Lalitha started taking orders from him. First, it was just a simple request to Lalitha if she could help him decorate his entrée, which she excitedly did.
“No problem, chef!” she breathlessly exclaimed as her hands speedily worked around the dishes.
They were enamoured by his star quality and his meteoric rise to fame. It was also his humility that surprised them.
“You handle yourself quite well with all the fame, you know that?” Gus blew out smoke from his lips.
They were standing at the narrow lane behind the restaurant, having a quick smoke break.
“Me? Fame?” Corey asked, feigning ignorance.
Gus nodded satisfyingly. “Yeah, with all the attention you’re getting, you’re on your way, Corey.”
Even Lalitha nodded in agreement. They shared an understanding that Corey was not a part of.
“On my way where?” he asked.
Gus’ face suddenly turned melancholic. His red beard twitched, and Corey could see his lips curve downwards. “To being a famous chef.”
“But I’m still younger than you guys, and I have so much to learn! Plus, all of you are better than me!”
“See, this is why I like you!” Lalitha slapped him on the shoulders. “You are getting so much attention, yet you don’t let it get to your head.”
“And I hope that you don’t forget us when you get to the top,” Gus laughed out.
“Yeah, remember us, will you? It would also help if you were to help us one day in the future, too. Remember? All good chefs help each other, Corey,” Lalitha echoed.
Corey nodded his head. “Look, guys, I don’t think I am THAT famous. Just because some people wrote reviews about me and the restaurant does not mean I have a steady path towards fame. Even Keith does not find it a big deal!”
“Keith’s just jealous!” Lalitha’s face turned sour.
“Yeah,” Gus agreed. “He may not show emotions, but you know that he is just pissed that you are getting more attention than he is. Haven’t you noticed?”
Corey mulled this over. They had a point. Keith used to be Ryan’s star boy, because he presented his dishes in such a dazzling manner. But ever since the patrons started requested for Corey, Keith was slowly pushed to the side. Yesterday, Ryan had asked Keith to garnish his dessert with some lemon slices, which Keith took as a personal attack to his artistry. The chef had vehemently denied such request. Normally, Ryan would have thrown his hands up in the air and let Keith have his way. But for the first time yesterday, Ryan took charge.
“Fine, if you won’t do it, I’ll let Corey handle desserts too. Piece of shit!” he screamed at the blonde chef before walking away. “You can go back home early, Keith! I don’t need you today!”
None of the other chefs had seen this happen before. It was obvious that Keith was often tolerated because of his skills. But Ryan had had enough. Corey remembered the emotionless look on Keith’s face as he cleaned his workstation without a word and walked out the kitchen door.
“Ryan is slowly realizing that Keith is a bastard,” Lalitha said with satisfaction. “Serves him right for being an asshole. And it’s all thanks to you, Corey!”
Corey laughed a little. He was beginning to enjoy being the centre of attention. “Well, Keith had it coming anyway. I mean, if you aren’t going to do what the executive chef asks of you, then why are you in the kitchen? We are meant to be working together! The way he sees it, he thinks he is the only important chef in the kitchen!”
“Well, he’s fucking wrong,” Gus grinned. “It’s only a matter of time when Ryan decides that Keith is no longer needed here!”
“Cheers to that.” Lalitha lifted her cigarette to the air.
Corey did not know how to react to all this. He was getting used to the attention and respect from his senior chefs. But, his rise to the top came at a price – Keith’s reputation. If he were to make it in this city, Keith’s career would have to be sacrificed.
And Corey decided to do just that.
Chapter 12
Getting a promotion at Trainyard was not the only perk that came Corey’s way. Ryan called him in to his office one day after their usual lunch rush hour.
“Yes, chef?” Corey asked, closing the door behind him.
Ryan pushed a small, gold envelope across the table towards Corey. “This came for you today.”
Corey frowned as he picked up the letter. On the front it was addressed to him, ‘Mr Corey Littman – The Trainyard.’ “What is this?”
“Open it.” Ryan smiled.
Curious, he tore at the fold to reveal a slightly fragrant piece of folded paper inside. He read the letter.
Dear Corey Littman,
First of all, congratulations on your phenomenal review on The Verve. It has been a while since Anais Heart spoke so highly of an establishment. And she still speaks fondly of you, I might add.
This is a personal invitation to join our little soiree on the seventeenth of June. It will be attended by some of the most distinguished guests, and I would like to invite you into our humble, little circle.
I understand that this may be one of your first times attending such events; hence there are some set rules I would like to see acquiesced.
First of all, this invitation is solely extended out to you. We would appreciate it if you arrive without a partner. Secondly, it will be a formal event. Interpret that as you will. And thirdly, this is not something to be shared on social media, or even with your friends.
Though it may sound peculiar, it’s only privacy we’re aiming after. Some renowned guests would like to attend my parties without being hounded by the paparazzi at the entrance.
I look forward to seeing your handsome face grace my party. It will make me a very happy man.
Sincerely,
Theo Devereux.
Corey bit his lip. Something about the letter unnerved him. It sounded more like an order than an invitation.
“Congratulations, Corey. You are slowly going up in the world.”
“Thanks, I guess, chef,” Corey answered. “Do I have to go, though?”
Ryan looked at him as though he was crazy. “Haven’t I taught you anything, Corey? This is i
mportant for your career. All the biggest names in Chicago will be there. It is something any artisan would sell a kidney or marrow for… and you’re having cold feet?”
Corey shook his head. “No, I’m just being nervous, chef. I’m not used to this, at all.”
“You will be accustomed to all of these, Corey.” The executive chef smiled, lines digging deep into his kind face. “I trust you have a suit for the occasion?”
“It isn’t too fancy, chef, but I think it will do for his party,” Corey answered hollowly.
“Good boy…, and Corey?” Ryan called out to his retreating figure.
“Yes, chef?”
“Not a word of this to anyone at all, especially not Gus, Lalitha or Keith.”
“Understood, chef,” Corey replied, closing the door behind him. He tucked the envelope into his trouser pocket and returned to the kitchen where the chefs were preparing their ingredients for tomorrow’s rush hour.
Chapter 13
The ride up the elevator of Theo Devereux’s apartment complex was enough to make Corey feel out of place. He felt awkward prodding the ‘Penthouse’ button on the elevator display. As the soft whirr of the vehicle emanated, his distorted reflection from the door stared back. Self-consciously trying to straighten his still wet hair, Corey berated himself for running late. It had not been easy digging out the suit from his luggage underneath the bed. Since moving to the city, he had thought that chances of dressing formally would be few and far between. But here he was, on his way to a rather posh party.
Theo answered the doorbell. Standing there in a light blue shirt with the first two buttons unfastened, Corey could see the tiniest smattering of chest hair on his muscular pecs. A smile accompanied the celebrity chef’s full lips as he looked at Corey with an obvious amusement.