Chef

by Throsby, Lynda

  WHEN I WAS in group homes, the other boys would pick on me because I was quiet, timid, and small for my age. I remember once, the older boys all came and dragged me out of bed late one night. They took me to the bathroom and made me smoke something funny. I was choking on the smoke as it went down my throat, burning me, and I ran to the toilet to throw up. They were all laughing at me, telling me what a wuss I was. Then the biggest one grabbed me by the neck, calling me a chicken shit. He shoved me to my knees, and then two others got hold of my arms, and the big guy pushed my head into the toilet bowl. The same toilet bowl I had just thrown up in.

  My face and head were full of puke, and of course, I threw up again, only for them to repeat dunking me. They left me soaked in puke, and through fright, I had peed myself. They all thought it was hysterical and never let me live it down.

  They did that a lot, dragging me out of bed to bully me. Once they had a bucket of pee and tipped it over my head. I couldn't tell anyone, mainly because there was no one to tell. No one ever listened to you and thought you were just telling lies.

  I have a slight recollection of living with my dad. I remember he was either asleep or he was shouting at me — I do remember the shouting. I used to cover my ears up when he bellowed. It became instinct, and it was something I continued to do growing up. I was told he was a drunk. I was also told my mum left us and that he didn't want me, so he just drunk himself into a coma each night and neglected me. I was apparently very scrawny for a five-year-old, and when welfare came to collect me, they thought I was only three years old until they found my birth certificate. From then I went from home to home. Apart from the bullying, I was neglected throughout my life. I just tried to shrink into the background so no one would bother me — only it didn't work.

  I remember the older I got, all I wanted was a family and for someone to love me. I used to dream about a long-lost family, or my momma coming for me, but they never did. I have never tried to find my parents. I figured they never wanted me then, so they couldn’t have me now, even if they were alive.

  All the bullying has made me stronger and made me the person I am today. Yes, I’m an arrogant ass, but it’s my survival mechanism. I have never had a chance to show anyone the nice side of me. I have never had a relationship with anyone. I’ve been too wrapped up in getting to where I am today, being successful and the youngest Michelin star chef. I hope I will have time to settle if I find the right woman, but I don’t see that happening, and I’m okay with that.

  I’ve just played around all these years. I’ve never found anyone that I thought ‘yes I want to spend my life with her’. I’ve fooled around since I was twelve when I lost my virginity to a girl in one of the foster homes. We became good friends and looked out for each other. She was older than me by three years, but we didn’t care, and she wanted me to be her first. We fumbled, but we did it. It was okay, but from then, I just had sex whenever I could. It was my way of getting the affection I craved. I got it the only way I knew I could, and I became a whore. I would screw anything and the older I got, the more attention I got.

  IT’S GETTING LATE, and I’ve had a long day. I finish my Internet searching and decide to call it a night. I can’t wait to get into work tomorrow and see Macen.

  Macen

  I HAD A GREAT weekend with Grandma and Dixon. We went out and did a bit of shopping, and then had a picnic in Central Park. We went up the tower in Belvedere Castle, and we walked around the Jackie Onassis Reservoir. It was a lovely day, and she was worn out with all the walking. Dixon was tired too, so they both had an early night.

  I had butterflies in my tummy this morning.

  I got up earlier than usual, as I had all of Dixon’s stuff ready for school. I packed his lunch bag so he was ready, and I did myself one.

  I kissed Grandma and Dixon goodbye, as they were leaving later than I was. I wanted to walk to Casper's. I knew it would take me a good thirty minutes to walk there, but it was a nice day, and it would calm my nerves, or at least I hoped it would. I wasn't sure if it was just first-day nerves or if it was the thought of seeing Caspian again. I haven't stopped thinking about him since my interview: his jet-black hair, striking brown eyes, chiseled cheekbones and, oh my God, the dimples. Those dimples make him even more stunning if that's possible. I need to control all these alien feelings I have for him. It won't be good, working for him and feeling this way. Nothing can ever happen, no matter what, and I will not screw up my one chance at making it and getting to the top.

  As I near Casper’s, the butterflies are fluttering harder in my tummy. I was told to go around the back of the restaurant and knock on the back door. Francoise said he would be there first thing to start on my paperwork and go over the kitchen with me before it got too busy. The team doesn’t arrive to start prepping until 9.a.m., which will be my usual start time, but for today, Francoise wants me there at 8.a.m. He has a lot to show me.

  I knock and wait but there's no answer. I knock louder and listen. I can hear footsteps, then the door being unlocked as Francoise opens it. He smiles at me, seeing I'm slightly early. Francoise is an older man. I would guess at about forty to forty-five, with dark hair that's peppered with grey, he's clean-shaven, as most chefs and cooks are. It's a bit of a taboo subject, but they say you are not to have any facial hair while working in the kitchen. That applies to everyone — someone needs to tell Caspian that fact. Francoise has green eyes, and he always looks quite stern except when he smiles.

  “Good morning, Ms. Donald. Nice and early. I like that — shows you’re eager. Come on in.”

  “Thank you, Francoise, and good morning to you. Yes, there is no way I would be late, especially not on my first day. Please call me Macen.”

  “Ok, Macen, let's show you where everything is, then get us a coffee and you can fill in your details on the paperwork Mr. Kade left for you.” My face drops. He left paperwork for me. Does that mean he isn't going to be around today? I daren't ask Francoise because it’s none of my business and to be honest, it might be better if he weren't around today for my first shift. I think he will just make me nervous. Funny how my butterflies have disappeared now that I don't think he will be around.

  Francoise shows me around the restaurant — everything from the bathrooms to the employee room, the storeroom, and the gigantic fridge, then all the different workstations, finally finishing up at the workstation that I will be sharing with Louis until he leaves and it becomes mine. Once we finish the tour, we head into an office, which I think is Caspian's. I start to fill in the paperwork while he gets us coffee. It's mainly my personal details, nothing unusual, and he gives me the staff handbook and the contract of employment to look over, sign, and return to him or Mr. Kade within the week.

  This all takes us to 11 a.m. I assume the team arrived a while ago and are in the kitchen, prepping for the lunchtime rush. Apparently, it’s busy right through from opening at noon to last orders at 10.30 p.m., and doors close at midnight. Thankfully there is a specialized cleaning crew that comes in at midnight each night to thoroughly deep clean the entire kitchen. Caspian does not want anything to jeopardize his Michelin stars, and I can’t say I blame him. I think I will do the same when I have my own restaurant. That’s something new I learned today that I hadn’t even thought of. In the diner I was working at, it was up to us, the employees to clean the kitchens and the front of the diner.

  Francoise takes me back out to the kitchen to introduce me to the team, and Louis, who I will be shadowing for the next few weeks. He goes through them all, but there are so many. How am I supposed to remember all these names? Most of them just quickly say hi or welcome, then get on with whatever they are prepping.

  “Macen, can you shadow Louis for the next hour or so while I get on with my prepping, then once the customers are in, I want you to try some of the dishes. Mr. Kade said not to show you the menu, just let you sample a three-course meal and write down exactly what you think of each dish. He said he wants your honest opinion and for you
to note down if you would change anything about the dishes? If so what?”

  “Oh, okay, yes, of course. Will you let me know what time to take a break to do that?”

  “No, that would be up to you. Part of running a kitchen is time management, getting the dishes out to customers in a timely manner, which means being at your station, getting your dishes completed. Do you think you could do that today?” I nod yes at him.

  Noon arrives, the doors open, and its non-stop for almost three hours. As it’s my first day, I obviously have no idea of the flow of customers. The best way to find out if we have a lull is to check the reservations list at the Maître d’s station.

  When he enters, I quickly head to him, see his name is Tobias, and ask him for a copy each day. He doesn’t seem happy but nods his head. Not long after, he comes back with today’s reservations. I see we have a lull between 3.45 p.m. and 5.15 p.m., which will give me time to make sure I have some of my dishes prepped ready and then try some of the other dishes like Francoise asked me to. I’m so relieved that Caspian hasn’t shown his face today. I feel I can breathe a bit better knowing he isn’t watching me and assessing me.

  At 3.50 p.m., after making sure I have enough sauces prepped, Louis says I can have my break, but not to be too long. I ask Francois to select the three dishes for me to try. He brings them to me in the employee room. For the appetizer, he picks a soup, which I guess is cream leek and pea soup with croutons, drizzled with sage and a floating bruschetta in the middle. It tastes as good as it looks.

  For my entrée, he brings me poached salmon with dill and lemon zest, the flavors are so good, and then for dessert, it’s apple and cheese granola cake with some vanilla ice cream.

  I’m looking forward to trying the dishes, as I’m starving, not having stopped since setting foot in the place first thing this morning. Francoise joins me in the employee room, which has a small kitchen, a couch, and two tables with four chairs on each table. I’ve finished my entrée and am making notes, just about to start my dessert.

  Francoise asks if he can look at my notes while I tried the dessert. I’m not ashamed, so I let him read them.

  “Ah, you liked the soup, but you think it should have a hint of mint added to the sage drizzle, interesting. You also liked the hint of garlic and thyme. Very good, Macen.”

  I’m eating the dessert and smile at him. “May I?” I say asking for my notebook back so I can make notes on the dessert. He passes it to me and lets me write down my thoughts. I pass it back to him to read while I finish the dessert. It's so good that I eat it all.

  “The poached salmon you thought it was slightly over poached making it a little dry, but the lemon and orange zest added a nice touch making it a little tangy, but in all, the flavors were good.” He looks at me, and I look down to my plate.

  “Then dessert, ah ha, you really liked that except you would have liked some apple pieces layered into the apple puree. I see the ice cream was to your liking using vanilla pods and it was really creamy.”

  I look up at him. “They are just my opinions on the three dishes I tried. I don’t mean to criticize the chefs. That’s the last thing I would want to do.”

  “This is perfect, Macen. This is exactly what we need to hear. I will have a word with the fish chef and make sure the poached salmon is not dry. I don’t want customers saying we are not up to standard. Thank you.” I hope he doesn’t tell the fish chef it was me that said it.

  “It was really tasty. I liked the dill, couscous, and herb dressing inside the salmon, which took away from it being a little dry. Maybe customers wouldn’t notice. It’s my job to know these things.”

  “No, I will make sure it is not too dry as it goes out. It must have been left out too long for it to dry up, in which case it should have been thrown out.”

  With that, he leaves me to finish my drink. I manage to call my grandma and speak to Dixon just to let them know it's going well, and I don't know what time my shift will finish today. I head back to take my dishes to the kitchen, and I see Francoise talking to the fish chef and checking one of the plated-up salmon. Francoise glances at me and just nods. I feel bad. I hope he doesn't tell the fish chef that I said it was dry. I don't want to be in the bad books on my first day. I notice the pastry chef looking at me. He's plating up some desserts but keeps glancing at me. I can't remember his name, and I wonder he knows me or if we've met.

  It’s just coming up to 5 p.m., and Louis, the commis chef I’m shadowing, tells me our shift is finished now and once I have cleaned up the station ready for David, the other commis chef to arrive, I can leave. He tells me our shift tomorrow is 5 p.m., and that we usually alternate early and late shifts with David, but I can sort this out with David once he’s left.

  I head to the employee room to collect my things ready to leave, and the pastry chef I saw earlier is there, sitting on the couch. I smile and say hi, but he doesn't acknowledge me, just stares at me. He unnerves me. The look on his face is mean, he has a sneer on his face, and his eyes are dark and piercing. I start to grab my stuff, and I can feel him watching me when I have my back to him. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up in fright.

  “How was your first day in the mecca of all restaurants?” he asks me with anger and venom in his question, while I rummage through my bag trying to find my phone. I turn to look at him, and he’s still staring at me as though he hasn’t spoken.

  “It was great, thank you. I’m exhausted though. It’s been a while since I worked a full day like this.”

  He doesn’t speak again just stares at me with that sneer. It’s as though he didn’t ask me a question. It’s weird and freaking me out. He really makes me nervous and scared. I don’t like the way he looks at me, or how he spoke to me. I want to get out of here.

  “You going home now or going out?” I can’t tell if he’s just trying to be friendly or creepy.

  “I don’t have the energy to go out. I’m going home to put my aching feet up. Good night,” I say as I reach the door. I turn as I open it and he doesn’t speak again, he’s just watching me, squinting at me with a frown on his face. I leave the room as quickly as I can, and I go to find Francoise to make sure he is fine with me going home.

  I find him in the office and knock on the door. “Louis said it was okay to head out now, but I just wanted to make sure that was alright with you?”

  “Yes, yes, but sit for a minute, please.” He points to the chair in front of him.

  I sit. “Tell me, Macen, what did you think of your first day? Was it what you expected?”

  “I loved it. I didn’t stop, but that’s what I loved. I was so busy and shadowing Louis has been great. I’m learning so much. I don’t want to let you or Mr. Kade down.”

  “Oh, I doubt you will do that, Macen. From what I see, you are a natural. I know Mr. Kade thinks the same or he wouldn’t have hired you on the spot. He knows a good thing when he sees it. So, are you coming back? You haven’t been scared off?”

  I laugh at that. “Never, I will be back tomorrow. Louis said we are on the late shift, starting at 5 p.m. Do you need me to come in early for anything?”

  “No, no, you are fine just coming in when Louis tells you what the shifts are. If I need to talk to you, I will do it during your shift. I'm just about to speak to Mr. Kade to let him know how your day went. He called earlier to check you were okay and probably to make sure you were still here.” He says this with a big smile on his face. I flush with embarrassment and look at my hands on my lap. I want to ask where Caspian is, and if he will be in tomorrow, but I daren't, and I don't want Francoise to think anything of it.

  “Do you have any questions or concerns about your first day? If there is anything at all, let me know. I suspect you will be honest about things like you were on the food you sampled today. I would like you to sample each meal we have on the menu and write your review in your notebook for me. I like your honesty, Macen.”

  “I'm always honest where food and recipes are concerned, maybe
to a fault. But no, I don't have any questions or concerns. Thank you for today.”

  He nods at me, and with that, I get up from my chair and leave. I can't wait to get home.

  I leave Casper’s out of the back entrance and start to walk round to 5th Avenue. I'm going to get a cab home. I'm so tired — it's been a long day. I move away from the line of customers at Casper's so the taxi drivers can see me, and I hail one down. Just as I shut the door, I feel someone watching me, so I turn to look out of the side window across the street. As the cars move past, I see him, standing there, leaning against the wall between the shops — the pastry chef. He's standing with one foot up resting on the wall behind him, smoking a cigarette, and he's looking straight at me. Almost like he was waiting for me to leave.

  It’s my second day, and I’m excited to get to work again. Being on the late shift means I can take Dixon to school and pick him up, then leave him with Grandma to put to bed. We all eat dinner together before I leave for work. I get the subway today, but I will get a cab home because it will be midnight and much safer. I have a busy day at work, and I love every minute of it. I have another three-course meal and give Francoise my reviews. Caspian isn’t in again, but I don’t ask anyone where he is. I do find out the name of the pastry chef though, as I hear someone shout out the name Reid and he answers. I didn’t look at him and didn’t have to speak to him during the day, but I can feel him watching me at times. The hairs on my neck stand up. He is really starting to freak me out. I still don’t know if I know him from anywhere, but he seems to have a problem with me, and I don’t know why. I now want to get home and away from here because of him. He is making me so uncomfortable. All through the shift, I felt him watching me.