Orie Chef Novels & Stories

Food journalists flew in from Tokyo and New York just to taste my signature dish, a deconstructed coq au vin that had made a renowned food critic weep. For two years, my restaurant had been fully booked six months in advance. I was returning to Missford University as a visiting professor, invited to teach the next generation of chefs. "Are you ready, Cici?" My second brother, Kevin stood beside me, his presence as steady and reassuring as it had been through every nightmare of the past three years. Even in sunglasses and a deliberately understated suit, Kevin Laurent was impossible to miss – Formula One's reigning champion, with the kind of face that launched a thousand sponsorship deals.

Roseline's POV… The list of the top chefs who would be participating in the cookathon was finally out. The big white paper hung on the wall of the kitchen, chefs gathered round checking to see the chosen ones who would be lucky enough to participate in this year's cookathon. I stared at my name, printed in black ink on the board, I was number two on the list. The top person was Fernando Rease. He won chef of the year at face of the kitchen last year, he is also one of the best chefs I know.

Elise, swirling her glass of champagne, rested her chin on her hand and motioned for Lena to look over. "If Alaric isn’t your type, no worries," she said slyly. "But what about my chef? He graduated top of his class from Le Cordon Bleu in Paris and has worked as head chef in multiple Michelin-starred restaurants—all that, plus he’s young, good-looking, and muscular..." Lena glanced at her, amused. "If he’s so great, why don’t you go for him?" Feigning an epiphany, she added, "Oh, wait... don’t tell me you’re still in touch with that guy from last time?"

Tiny proudly stated. Chef is the best when it comes to cooking top-notch cuisine. He takes his profession seriously. But just like the rest of the members of El Latro, he too has a double life. The chef enjoyed torturing people and squeezing information out of them. He used different techniques to make our captives talk. He loves mutilating people and watching them bleed to death. That's the reason why he is also known as the "butcher." "Nice to finally meet you in person, boss." The chef removes his gloves and extends his hand for a handshake.

Author P.O.V A dark-haired man with a tan complexion and piercing dark eyes exited the towering apartment building, his posture exuding confidence as he slid into the sleek interior of his sports car. This was Owen Brown, a name known to anyone who paid even the slightest attention to the culinary world in South California. He was not just any chef ,he was a celebrity. Over the last six years, he had built a veritable empire, opening a chain of restaurants and cafes, with The Dream being the crown jewel of his achievements. His cooking show drew millions of viewers, and his charm ensured that every public appearance turned into a headline.

Chef beamed when he saw me walk in and made a huge fuss about my outfit. “You’ve moved up in the world, Cheri!” He exclaimed, and I smiled at the dear man. He wasn’t French at all, but Eli’s father sent the man to France for some cooking courses and now Chef imagined himself to be French! I softly explained what happened upstairs and he gasped. “But Cheri! They should have told me you were here for lunch! I would have prepared your favourite meal!” He exclaimed, and I could see Eli trying to look the other way as if it wasn’t his fault.

"Good morning, Mrs. Cagliari. I'm Chef Larry. I work as the head chef in the Cagliari kitchen on weekends. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He extended his hand, and she returned the handshake briefly before pulling back. "Well, I'm Ashleigh. You can call me that," she responded. "I don't know about that. Will I get fired if I do?" he teased. Ashleigh's eyes widened as she began to refute his claims.

"Uhmm, today's chef is not him. Sir." Jeff was the head chef of the kitchen in the mansion, there were many to help him but everything was decided by him. Xavier glared at Kim coldly and asked her, "Then who?" "Madam. She cooked all the dishes today." "Leave, all of you." "I can make a new breakfast quickly…" "Leave I said!" Seeing him hitting his hand on the table furiously everybody quickly left from there. Xavier drank a glass of water but still his mouth was burning. Looking at the foods he took a bite

“Grandma, it’s not like that! If this fridge really only has food for Tristan and my husband-to-be, then they should let us see it, right?” Cassie calmly walked over and entered the code. The fridge door slid open, revealing an orderly array of labeled containers. Even Genevieve was momentarily mesmerized by the way everything was neatly arranged, each portion clearly designated, even some for the maids. “You did all this?” she asked, astonishment coloring her tone. Cassie nodded, self-assured. “I’m a chef by profession, a fitness coach, an entrepreneur, and, in case you don’t know, the CEO of CasRoe Wellness Center.”

She made some of the best meals I've ever had. The woman beside her nodded, smoothing her apron. “It could very well be. Chef Anton Lévêque cooked it.” I turned. “Wait…Anton Lévêque? From…?” “The very same.” The woman nodded proudly. “He was poached straight from Château Belclaire. Michelin five-star. Your mother-in-law can be very persuasive.” “Mother-in-law?” I was confused for a second because well I didn't have a mother-in-law.