Novel Cuisine Novels & Stories

During my free time, I often study new recipes... There are thousands of dishes yet to try. I always love challenging myself to grow, and I have a dish in mind for today. It’s a fusion of cuisines from five different countries—Indian, Turkish, Chinese, Thai, and French. I’m not sure how to pull that off, but I think this is a fascinating idea. It’s going to be unique, rare, but very delicious.

"Was this the kind of thing you served at Olympus?" The question caught Athena off-guard. Her heart skipped a beat, then leapt into a nervous tattoo. When had she stopped expecting questions about Olympus? Blinking at the guy from Nashville, she tried to formulate a proper response. What was his name again? Nelson something? "No. Olympus was far more focused on haute cuisine that was a blend of French, Greek, and Southern inspirations." "So why not teach that?"

He tapped the table with his fingers, creating a piercing sound that was like a drum beating in his heart. "You guys dare to serve me this?" he sneered. The European-style vintage dining table was filled with a variety of dishes, including French-style baked snails, Saint Jacques scallops, white wine mussel soup, white sauce braised veal, fresh sashimi from Hokkaido, and Catalan squid ink slices... There was a wide variety of cuisine from all around the world, and the ingredients were all air-shipped and the freshest. Oliver tasted these dishes, but they all tasted like chewing wax.

What had begun as a formal groundbreaking ceremony had evolved into something more significant, supernatural beings and humans finding common ground through shared food, conversation, and genuine interest in each other's perspectives. Although the spark of inspiration hit me with all the new ingredients at our disposal, I began to wonder if I could create something new. I wasn’t sure if it could be a glaze or a sauce, but it might be interesting. My fingers itched to experiment, to blend elements from different culinary traditions into something that would speak to both worlds we were trying to bridge. "You've got that look," Maison observed, watching me with familiar amusement. "What look?"

I did try to block Biadet from getting a forkful, but she faked me with a right before stabbing herself a juicy slice from the left. “Nouvelle cuisine,” said Gullen. “We had French Visitors before the Australians. Some rather delicious culinary ideas were their only contributions to our culture before they all sadly perished.” He shook his head, although I wasn’t sure if he was mourning the loss of the French guys or the dishes he would never taste.

Now, their future will be limitless and bottleneck in cultivation would be the word they would have never experienced in the future. The grand feast continues as a variety of main course dishes begin to reveal themselves to all the guests. The dishes were mixed with both the native cuisine of this world and the delicacies of the other world that Zhu Wushang had learned. Such as pizza, pasta, sweet & sour pork, etc.

I changed into a clean pair of jeans and a grey top, pulled my damp hair back, and went back downstairs. Nova had set the table properly, placemats and everything, and the food was already out. She had made something she called arroz con habichuelas, which was just rice and beans, fried plantains, and what looked like slow-cooked chicken in a dark sauce that smelled incredible. Puerto Rican food, I realized, real food that she had clearly spent time on. And despite everything I thought about her motives, I was hungry enough to eat the food. "Sit, sit." Nova gestured to the empty seat beside Luca.

I try to distinguish reality from the mysterious as I travel in and out of reality till dawn. ………… Morning comes with an enchanting aroma; the oily boiled pork, an ancient cuisine prepared only by old, experienced chefs, drifts into my nostrils. I sit up in utter awe. This isn’t normal at all; I murmur to myself. All the high-end restaurants we visit in my days of running can’t prepare this sort of meal. Bond strolls in with a covered tray in his hands. When he opens the cover, the aroma fills the room, and I can’t conceal my smile, but I stop midway.

My fingers tightened around the plate, hoping she wouldn't ask me further questions. “Oh wow. That's quick” Nikah muttered in reply again to which I didn't know what to think of or if a reply was required. “Did you train in a culinary school? Or does cooking just come naturally to you?” Nikah asked looking straight at me this time, and I had no choice but to look at her while answering. “I just graduated from a culinary school, and I trained under Chef Laurent” Luckily it was a question that I loved to answer, after all I was quite proud to be one of Laurent's few students.

he says briefly, then motions us to the dining room without returning Cassian’s greeting. We settle around the table my parents sit together on one side, while Cassian and I take the opposite side—I'm directly across from my father, and Cassian is opposite my mother. A server arrives, pouring wine and setting down plates of Moqueca—a Brazilian-inspired seafood casserole with a creamy coconut sauce, coriander garnish, and a hint of vibrant spices. “So, was that a French accent I detected?” my mother breaks the silence, her gaze shifting between Cassian and me.