Taste

by Kris Bryant

  “Good luck today. Let me know if I can help you with anything.” Randy heads into the kitchen with four Kirkwood Academy students in tow.

  “Is he always this nice?” I ask.

  Julie nods. “He knows that we are all part of the greater good here. If we fail, he fails. So he makes sure we don’t fail.”

  “He’s smart. A lot of chefs are idiots.” She laughs. Wait until she meets Scott. I hope he tails her. She’s a no-nonsense kind of girl and will definitely put him in his place.

  *

  It amazes me how early people will eat dinner. I guess they’re trying to beat the crowd and get a good steak. The restaurant is buzzing, and it’s just now five thirty. I shadow Julie as she takes orders, impressed with her efficiency and memory. She’s very good at explaining the menu, and sold several specials already. We head into the kitchen to pick up orders. I look over the plates, pleased with what I see, and help Julie run them out to the table. The rhythm of the kitchen is building up. Sometimes, I feel like I’m in the way as we weave in and out of other runners, waitstaff, and bus boys. I haven’t spent a lot of time in the kitchen observing though. I’ve been too busy running plates. The first break we have, I head back to the kitchen. I see other chefs at the grill, but Scott and Randy are not at the helm.

  “Hey, Brian. Where’s Scott?” I ask. Brian shrugs his shoulders and points his tongs somewhere behind him. I head back toward the offices and see Scott, Randy, and Taryn in the hall. Scott’s face is bright red and Taryn is doing her best to calm him down. I sneak back to the grills and see Mary waiting on plates by the pick-up counter.

  “Do you know what’s going on with Scott?” I ask.

  “Yeah, almost everything he’s grilled has been sent back.”

  A part of me wants to throw my head back and laugh, but the professional side wins out. “What do you mean?”

  “You were right. He’s rushing everything. Chef Randy pulled him from the grill.”

  “He’s better than that. I wonder why he’s so freaked out?” As much as I dislike him, he does know what he’s doing. Maybe he’s not ready for the fast pace.

  “Ki, order is up,” Julie says. I grab the plates, double check the order, and send one plate back.

  “Brian, this customer wanted potatoes instead of the rice on the special,” I say.

  “Good catch.” I’m sure Julie already knew that, but wanted to make sure I caught it as well. Brian quickly replates and I’m handed the correct meal within thirty seconds. He’s impressing me today. In class, he’s mediocre, but in the hustle and bustle of a busy kitchen, he’s killing it. As I take the plates off of the counter, I see Randy and Scott return.

  Randy looks at me. “Are you Ki?”

  I gulp and feel guilty for no apparent reason. “Yes, Chef.”

  “Deliver those plates and return here, please,” he says.

  I nod and quickly head out. What the hell did I do? I haven’t even talked to Scott today so I don’t know what it could be. I find the table, tell the patrons to enjoy their meal, and beeline it back. I find Randy at the grill.

  “Yes, Chef.” I feel like I’m reporting for duty.

  “Will you take over Scott’s position at the grill?”

  “Yes, Chef.” I don’t hesitate. I grab my jacket, put it on, and ask Brian for an update. He is fast, on task, and a great partner at the grill. Within a few minutes, I’m grilling my first filet. I’m hovering over it, setting the timer, doing everything I possibly can to make it perfect. I flip it in four minutes and quickly get plates ready.

  “Ki, what are you doing?” Mary asks. She’s in to pick up an order and sees me behind the grill. Her eyes are huge.

  “Chef Randy asked me to take over for Scott. I’m still going to work the second shift as long as I don’t screw this up.”

  I’m finally getting into my zone. I pull the filet off the grill and let it rest. I’m itching to plate, but I need to show Chef Randy that I have patience and can do this right. Hell, Brian is rocking the fish so I should be able to handle this. I get the rest of the order prepped and add the filet. Brian throws together a special and we are ready to hand it over to the runners. I know the filet is perfect. No time to gloat though as a waitress hands us a five top order. Two medium T-bones, a rib eye medium well, and two specials. I get started first because the steaks will take longer. I’m able to tune everything out. It’s just me and the grill. Orders come in and go out. So far nothing has come back. When it’s time to switch, I stay in my chef’s jacket. I’m not giving up this spot.

  “Ki, are you good at this position?” Chef Randy asks.

  “Yes, Chef,” He nods his approval, and appoints Mary to fish. She gives my shoulder a squeeze as she passes, relieving Brian of his duty. I get a few more orders in, and get back to the grill. Scott has returned and is running food with Julie. I wink at her and she shakes her head. She’s already annoyed with him. Fifteen minutes go by until I get my first return.

  “Chef, the customer says the steak is too salty,” Brian says. He’s carrying a filet I know is perfect. I’m in complete shock. I can feel my cheeks heat up from embarrassment. I grab the plate and take a long look at it.

  “It looks like the customer added too much salt. The salt on top is post heat,” I say. I show Mary and she agrees.

  I angrily throw another filet on the grill, pissed that a customer screwed up and blamed me. When the second steak comes back with too much salt, I’m beside myself. I’m trying to keep my cool, but I can’t figure it out. What is going on out there? I throw another rib eye on the grill tempted not to even salt it at all, but I have to go with my gut and trust my skill.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Julie and Chef Randy talking in private. This is the strangest kitchen I’ve ever worked in. Privacy isn’t really a luxury on most days. Kitchens are small, and busy, and everybody knows everybody’s business. When Taryn gets involved, I become more anxious. Again, she’s angry, but she’s doing a good job of controlling herself. I’m becoming alarmed. She looks over to me and motions for me to join them. Holy shit. What is going on? I ask Mary to flip my filet in three minutes and my T-bone in two. She assures me she can handle it. I head toward them.

  “How many of your plates came back?” Taryn asks me. She’s all teacher right now so I flip into student mode.

  “Two so far, Chef.”

  “Why?”

  “According to the customers, they had too much salt,” I say.

  “What do you think about that?” she asks.

  “Both looked to be salted post grill so I think the customers over-salted them.”

  “Well, Julie just informed me that she saw Scott add salt on the way to at least one customer. She saw him drop a salt shaker into his jacket.” My face heats up. “I will handle this, Chef. I just wanted to hear what you thought was going on first.”

  I nod. “Can I return to my grill, Chef?” I’m struggling to keep my shit together and Taryn must know because she quickly dismisses me. Don’t cry, don’t cry, I tell myself over and over until I get to my station.

  “What’s going on, Ki?” Mary asks. I shake my head. If I start talking about it, I’ll cry for sure. I can’t cry while I’m grilling. Chef Randy will laugh at me. Thankfully, one of the waiters turns in a four top and we both get busy at the grill. I push Scott and his sabotaging bullshit out of my head. It isn’t until Brian grabs a few plates that I find out Scott is gone for the night.

  “So Taryn kicked him out. Told him to go home. I wonder what happened. Do you know?” he asks us. I put a dish in front of him.

  “Hey, I need rice on this plate, not potatoes.” Crap. I quickly replate and hand him the corrected one. He nods his approval and slips through the doors leading to the dining room. There is a long hallway and I’m guessing Scott did the deed then. There are too many other people around for him to get away with

  it either in the kitchen or the dining area. What a total prick. I kind of hope he gets kicked out of the aca
demy. I know it won’t be the case, but I’m so angry right now, I’d probably throw knives at him. Really sharp, hurtful ones. And nobody would blame me.

  Thankfully, the rest of the night goes smoothly. I switch over to desserts and become Mary’s sous-chef, helping her with the easy stuff and even trying some of the more challenging things like Murphy’s lemon mousse. By the time nine thirty rolls around, I’m ready to drop. I don’t think I’ve ever worked this hard, this fast before. I’m on a high, but it’s been dampened by Scott. I need to know what happened.

  “I’m so proud of you. It’s been a crazy, successful night. Thank you, Chef Randy, for allowing us the opportunity to cook in your wonderful kitchen. Students, let’s clean up and get out of here,” Taryn says. It only takes us about twenty minutes to clean up, and Murphy’s staff actually applauds us. A few high fives and we’re out the door. The air feels fresh and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a shower more. I can feel the grease on me. I just want to hose off and sleep for a day.

  “Ki, can I see you for a minute?” Taryn asks. She still looks stressed and I want to run my hands over her face, thread my fingers through her thick, long hair and calm her down. Tonight was successful regardless of a coward’s action.

  “What happened?” I ask. Taryn leans against the door and sighs.

  “Chef Randy had him empty his pockets and we found a salt shaker. He threw a fit and denied everything. I told him to leave. We’ll deal with it at school tomorrow. Are you okay?”

  I smile at her. “Of course. I almost had a no-hitter tonight. I kept up with the orders and Mary and Brian really stepped up and kicked ass in there. It was even better than I expected.” She seems completely surprised by my reaction. “Look, I can’t help that Scott did what he did. He’s just a whiny baby and hates to lose. I can’t let him get me down. You told me you would take care of it and I trust you.” I almost forget we’re in public and lean into her. I realize I’m entirely too close and take a step back.

  “That’s very gracious. And yes, it was a great night aside from that. You all did well, but I’m so proud of you for stepping up and taking over. Fantastic.” I can tell she wants to touch me, but can’t.

  “Thank you. I can’t wait to go home and crash.” She walks me over to my car. “I’ll see you in the morning.” I crawl in and fasten my seat belt.

  She leans down so that she’s close, but not too close. “I wish I could show you how proud I am of you.”

  Suddenly, I’m awake. “If you can come over, that would make this day perfect.” I want to reach out and pull her to me for a long, powerful kiss.

  She looks sad. “I can’t. Olivia.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “So what happened?” I’m really early to class because I’m dying to know what happened with Scott. Taryn looks up and around.

  “I thought about calling you earlier, but then I remembered you were at the diner this morning. I bet you’re tired.” She’s wearing a suit and looks incredible. The taupe jacket is hanging on the back of her chair. The skirt is tight and the blouse is fitting, but not revealing. Very tasteful and very feminine. Not that I didn’t already know this, but she cleans up very well.

  “I am, but I can sleep Friday.” I put my bag down and actually sit at my desk. “So?”

  “Well, I reported it to Dr. Wright and had a meeting with both him and Scott. Scott denied everything. He’s on probation even though I pushed for a harder punishment. Dr. Wright will no longer be second guessing me now. He did say that it was the waitress’ word against Scott’s and I should be more supportive of the students here.”

  “That’s it? He gets talked to and that’s it?” I’m mad. I just want what was fair. “When people cheat, and I do consider this a form of cheating, most students get expelled. So because he’s a man, he gets special treatment? They both are jerks.” I’m pissed.

  “Trust me. I fought for what I thought was right. I’m sure Dr. Wright thinks I’m picking on Scott given what happened a few weeks ago. I’ll never give Scott a recommendation, and it will be hard for him to get a job here once word of mouth gets out.” That doesn’t make me feel any better. I can see it now, he will win the scholarship all because he’s a guy. This is so unfair. I look at Taryn and I know that she tried. I can tell just from the look in her eyes. She seems sad, but determined. I soften.

  “I know you did, Taryn. I trust you.” I take a moment to rid myself of my shitty attitude. After a deep sigh, I put myself back into the conversation. “By the way, you look beautiful today all dressed up.”

  “I wanted the department to take me seriously.” She smiles at me and suddenly it doesn’t seem so bad. Nobody is in the class yet, so I take a private moment.

  “When do I get to see you again?” My voice is low.

  She looks at me and thinks for a moment. “My mother arrives Friday so I’m sure she can watch Olivia for a bit this weekend.”

  “Great.” I smile and head to my station. I want to sit and talk with her until class begins, but we have to be careful since it seems as if the entire class is under scrutiny now. Mary shows up, and after putting on her jacket, she heads my way.

  “So, what happened last night?” I don’t feel bad telling her. Scott is going to look like an ass no matter who tells the story. She’s in complete shock. “What a dick.” She looks completely disgusted with him. “That makes zero sense. He’s a good chef, so why would he cheat?”

  “Well, he completely panicked. I knew he would rush and not let the steaks rest. That’s why Chef Randy had me switch with him. He pulled him off the grill, put me on, and Scott had some sort of a meltdown because of it. I’m certain I got the win last night.” We both laugh at that. “You and Brian did a really great job on the grill. And here you were, worried the whole time.”

  Mary smiles at me. “It’s easy when you have somebody next to you who knows what she’s doing. And Brian was great because I think he works at Applebee’s and cooks steaks every day. He’s had tons of practice.” The diner doesn’t serve a lot of steak so I learned by grilling on my deck and having Jessie, Lynn, and Sam be my guinea pigs. Steak, regardless if you work at a high end restaurant or bar and grill, is always in demand. The rest of the students file in. Not surprisingly, Scott is the last one in. He walks right over to his station, his head down, keeping to himself. I’ll be surprised if he says anything to me. He’s not one to lose graciously. I see Taryn look up at the clock and slip into her chef’s jacket to start class.

  “Why are you so dressed up today, Chef?” Brian asks.

  “I had a meeting with Dr. Wright.” I can still hear the anger in her voice. “Okay, let’s talk about the seafood dishes you will be preparing tomorrow night.” She’s not going to elaborate to anyone and we all slip into student mode.

  I need to pay attention today because fish is not my strongest food. I don’t love it, so it’s hard to get my palate right. I make a mean crab cake and can fluff up a scallop, but I suck at deboning and getting the right heat on fish. I tend to overcook it, so I really need all the help I can get before tomorrow’s service. Thankfully, there are enough options that we can pick a station and stay with it all night. All eight of us will be in the kitchen at the same time so it will be almost impossible to sabotage anybody’s food. Taryn lists the different stations and we get what we want. I’m on scallops and mussels, Brian’s on chicken and steak, Mary gets soups and desserts, and Scott gets fresh water fish. There are other stations she assigns, but I’m not paying attention.

  I’m not strong on mussels and plan to spend today’s class focusing on them. Atlantis has them served several different ways; simmering in garlic butter, swimming in white wine, saffron and tomatoes, or just steamed. Most of the mussels are served with pasta, so I have to get my pastas down pat. I’d love to create a mussel ravioli, but that’s not on their menu. I’m told most of their pasta comes from a box. Boring, but fast. I review their menu and get started on the mussels
. The first batch comes out rubbery. I’m frustrated, but not deterred.

  “What’s going on here, Ki?” Taryn asks. I blow a piece of hair out of my face in frustration. I can tell she wants to reach out and tuck it behind my ear, but instead she crosses her arms in front of her and takes a step back.

  “My mussels aren’t cooking right. Why are they coming out like erasers?”

  “You need to use a wider pot so they aren’t all stacked. The bottom ones are cooking, but waiting for the upper layer to cook will make the bottom ones overcook, and become rubbery,” she says. She tastes the wine sauce. “The sauce is delicious. Once you spread out your mussels, you’ll be fine.” I raise my eyebrow at her and she blushes.

  “Um, well, okay. I guess I will get another pot and try it again.” I’m looking forward to the weekend. Even if it’s for only thirty minutes, I’ll take it. I miss her mouth. I miss her lips on mine, her taste. I give a quick shake of my head. I can fantasize about us tonight when I’m alone in bed. After fifteen minutes of regrouping, and making a few minor adjustments, I’m able to cook the mussels perfectly. I wish I had the crab cakes station, but I’m sure the scallops and the mussels will be enough to keep me on my toes tomorrow night. After looking at the clock, I see that I have time to cook up a few scallops. I blacken them just for kicks and almost cry with joy when I taste one. It’s perfect. Spicy and juicy.

  “Is this even on the menu?” Taryn looks at scallops on my plate. I sheepishly shake my head no.

  “I couldn’t help myself. But in all fairness, I did use the recipe and cooked a few per their instructions. I thought they were kind of tasteless so I decided to add heat. Taste one.” She grabs a fork and knife and gently places one on a small plate. She pokes the texture with her fork and watches the meat carefully as she cuts into it.

  “They are cooked well,” she says.

  “Wait until you taste it.” I’m excited. I watch as she slowly puts the bite into her mouth. I love that she always closes her eyes when she tastes my food. I wait five whole seconds before prodding her for a review. “And?”