Novel Cuisine Novels & Stories

" Master will find out that you have been cooking for him. What are you going to do?" The Chef, A decent Wolf, Carol asked before passing me the cheese and onion. Since I had been hiding the fact that I cooked his meals, he might recognize. But who cared? I did no longer had to act like her anyway. I smiled, shaking my head as I felt something inside my stomach. I couldn't stand the smell for some reason. " I will cook something that is from the northern fortress. They use more spice than the other regions!"

She still couldn’t let go of what he had done for her when Henry had showed up, and for that, she wanted to do something nice as a thank-you. Despite Dominic’s rejection, Nova quickly set to work preparing a dish she knew he would like. She pulled steak, leftover rice from dinner, and various vegetables out of the fridge. The steak went in the pan first, cut into small strips and sauteed in fragrant spices while Nova washed and cut the vegetables. Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with the aromatic scent of oregano, red pepper flakes, and cajun seasoning. The scent made even Nova’s mouth water despite not being hungry.

Settling back into the comfortable chair, he eagerly unwrapped the meal, revealing a culinary masterpiece. The dish, aptly named "Succulent Symphony," featured a canvas of tender, seared filet mignon adorned with a rich truffle sauce. Accompanying the main course were vibrant roasted vegetables, their colors a feast for the eyes, and a medley of aromatic herbs delicately seasoned the dish. The plating itself was a work of art, showcasing the chef's meticulous attention to detail.

“Yeah, you know that my business is in the culinary field, but I'm very blind to culinary things. I'm just someone who has money and the ambition to grow a business. Meanwhile, my business can't just be handled carelessly without the touch of an expert. So, ever since I first opened a restaurant in New York, I've been working with Marry Christin to handle the taste department. I bought the copyright of her recipes for my restaurant.” “Hmm… business brain. I'm not surprised," said Nickson nonchalantly. “So long story short, at that time Blakely and Marry Christin came to France to attend the opening of a new branch of my restaurant as well as attend a culinary festival held by a culinary arts

"Uncle Chad, it's time for dinner!" Uncle Chad? He was not used to being called that! Chad muttered to himself as he stored the USB drive and asked, "You're quite good at cooking. Where did you learn this?" Gisella smiled and pulled out a bound book, saying, "I learned from this book, Mystical Cuisine." Chad was stunned, but after carefully inspecting the meal Gisella prepared, he could not help but be impressed. Chad wrote the book Mystical Cuisine, which summarized his experiences and recipes for medicinal cuisine.

Nelson stood by the open-air kitchenette, preparing a delicious meal for Maiari. The salty breeze played with the strands of his hair, and the distant laughter of children playing by the shore served as a soothing backdrop to the evening. Nelson had always been a fast learner, and his time spent in America had broadened his culinary skills. Today, he was cooking one of Maiari's favorite dishes, a savory seafood pasta that he had perfected over time. The ingredients were fresh, plucked from the sea just hours before, and the aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air.

Normally the stress and tight deadlines drove him mental every year and this year was likely to be even worse with the international project and the patisserie to worry about, but he was feeling a little calmer when he thought about the impending chaos. Henry was busy at work in the kitchen when he arrived back at the townhouse and the smell was confusing. There wasn’t much variation in the menu served in his house so he could always manage to guess what was being served with a very high success rate. This wasn’t something he had smelt before. “What are you making?” Flynn asked curiously. Henry looked up from his laptop. “Something new for both of us. Please try it with an open mind. My butl

Don said. The fire settled. Don looked at the notebook in his lap. He turned a page—not reading, just turning, as if the physical act of turning the page helped him move from one argument to the next. "The food book," he said, "is the most interesting of the three. The author argues that Thessaloniki's cuisine is the most accurate record of what the city actually was—more accurate than the architecture, more accurate than the official history. She traces every major dish to the specific trade route or the specific community that produced it. The Jewish community. The Ottoman spice trade. The Greek refugee populations from Turkey in the 1920s." He looked at Ernest. "A dish can carry a history

I hoped to look at least somewhat presentable when I showed up to this restaurant. The thing people complimented most about me was my cooking. One of my favorite things was making special fusion foods, something I became known for in my hometown. I loved experimenting, approaching traditional foods through modern methods and incorporating unconventional ingredients. More importantly, being in the kitchen made me feel in control of my own life. That’s why I opened my restaurant back in my hometown. Even if I didn’t speak Fresonian, I knew some local cuisine. I believed good food transcended any language barrier, so maybe I stood a chance.

A swarm of free-flowing orbs descended from the roof and lit up the table in a warm golden glow making Nueva gasps in stunned amazement. Eijaz made a series of clicking sounds, and immediately, a row of servants rushed in carrying ceramic plates and bowls filled with an array of Fay dishes. Nueva stared at all the ethnic cuisine placed down on the table in front of her and swallowed nervously. She waited to see what the Fay couple would choose to eat and hoped they would explain the different foods.