Orie Chef นิยาย & เรื่องราว

“It is all right,” his parents confirmed, and climbed the staircase hand in hand. “Good day, Young Master. Is there anything you want us to do?” Chef Carl, the thirty years Head of the Chefs, greeted. “Good day to you, Chef Carl. I wish to find out if you are through with my package.” “Yes, Young Master. You can have a look.” Then, Chef Carl signalled him to the packed food and snacks, and he was pleased with them.

He gestured toward the chef. I greeted him politely, forcing a calm exterior. But Gerrard's expression flickered ever so slightly. He his eyes at me, confused. My pulse jumped. Had I said something wrong? Gerrard frowned slightly at my reaction before giving me an encouraging smile. "Lily, don’t you remember? This is Chef Marcel DuPont. He’s one of the finest culinary masters in France… and not just that, he was one of your instructors back at your culinary school. You even wrote on one of your social media posts that you admired him and looked up to him. I was expecting more excitement."

"I think you know fully well who sent us Rebecca, oh sorry, let's go by your real name...Amanda." "Tom, slice the tomatoes!" Elena ordered as she walked round the kitchen. She was the head chef of the restaurant, had been for a month and few weeks now. "Kathie, this sauce isn't spicy enough," she said to the redhaired standing over the sauce pan. "But you haven't even tasted it," Kathie said confused. "When you're an expert chef, you don't need to taste the sauce to know that, it's all in the aroma and color," she said not looking back at Kathie as she walked away.

I said with a smile as she led me to the kitchen and did exactly as Ella had said. “My name is Sophie, please don't call me Ma'am, I am here if you need anything, the head chef will tell you what you should cook so just wait a while,” she whispered to me after introducing me to all the other chefs, they looked nice enough but my fear was that I was yet to meet the head chef, I had no idea who he or she was and what their temperament would be like.

” He nodded as if it was nothing. Chef Gio was a well known chef. Some even called him the best Chef in Argentina. He owned his own restaurant and he also does outdoor services but he was always booked for the year, before a year even starts. “You got Chef Gio to prepare lunch for you?” I asked. “For us.” He corrected. “I wanted to make you lunch myself but I was busy with work all morning so I had him prepare all these.” I eyed him.”Why do you keep lying about cooking?” “I’m not lying. There is absolutely nothing I can’t cook.”

He stood in his crisp black suit in the gleaming foyer, a grand staircase ascending behind him. "Alfred," Damon cheerfully said, patting the man's shoulder. "How have you been?" He's one of the best chefs in their kitchen. Actually, the only one who's able to handle his dear mother's diet fads and run along with them. That's why Alfred has been working for over fifteen years with them. Quite a feat. "Very well, sir. Care for some ceviche?"

She inquired, getting interested in this conversation. I would have shut it down instantly, but since it was going to make her happy and look alive, I would gladly do it. "I will have you know that no world-class chef comes close to me. Do you have an idea of who is standing before you? You are looking at the most renowned chef in the world. I just decided not to wear my badge all the time so that I don't look proud." I bragged.

He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. "I'm Mason, assistant to the CEO. The chef is already waiting for you. This way please." I followed Mason through the hotel to the back kitchens and into another area I had not yet seen. We stopped short of a door, which read the words 'Leon Knightly, Head Chef.' The aroma was intensifying. I could only imagine what it was like inside. I inhaled and prepared myself as Mason knocked on the door before opening it. Leon's scent wafted through and hit me directly, almost sending me backward.

He nodded and looked back down to his phone. "What do you need him for, you got me here to keep you protected," I said smiling at him. His face hardened some telling me I said something he didn't like. "I don't need protection darling." He said sharply. "It was a joke boss," I said getting up from the chair I was sitting him. It didn't make sense that I was offended by his response, but for some reason, I felt defensive as well. "I am going to go see how Henry is fairing with his army-sized meal." I didn't wait for a response before walking out of the door and heading toward the kitchen. I stood in the doorway for a moment before speaking. I remember the first day I got out of that room and

At 90 years old, he looked remarkably healthy and vibrant, his presence radiating an unexpected vitality. His light, agile step indicated that he was a master of health and wellness. The reporters in the room gasped, “Oh my God, it’s Master Jiro Ono, the top Japanese chef. How is this possible?” Fanny immediately scoffed, “A top chef can’t compare to international chef George Brown.” Her comment was met with derisive laughter from those who knew better. Fanny’s ignorance was palpable.