"Alright, here you are, all battered and ready to go swimming," Tiana said with a grin as she set down the basket of battered lobster coated in seasoned flour next to the stove.
"Thank you very much," I replied, grinning as the battered lobster hissed and popped as I dropped the pieces into a Dutch oven filled with scalding hot oil.
"Remember, we want to avoid overcooking the lobster at all costs; a couple of seconds too long and we'll be chewing on pieces of rubber," Tiana instructed as she walked over to the oven and pulled out a baking tray laden with golden French loaves, "Also not too many pecies at once otherwise the oil will cool down to much and we won't get the nice crispy coating. For the same reason, you want to let the oil reheat in between batches."
While I already knew everything Tiana was telling me, I didn't interrupt, letting her get into a groove. It was good to see that, beyond learning the basics, Tiana understood the intricacies that set good food apart from great food.
Speaking of great food, the smell of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, and I was quickly reminded that I had skipped breakfast that morning. 'I may not need to eat anymore, but damn does it suck working on an empty stomach.'
I glanced over as Tiana set the tray down, grabbed a loaf at random, held it up to her ear, and gently squeezed the bread, listening to the glass-like crust crackle.
"Are we happy with the outcome?" I asked as I started to fish the golden-fried shellfish out with a metal strainer and set them down to dry on a wire rack.
"With how many shortcuts I took, this is a damn fine loaf," Tiana announced with a smile as she glanced over at me, "I think we're ready to start assembling."
Setting the loaf down, Tiana grabbed a serrated knife and cut the bread lengthwise, then in half. Opening the two loaves revealed the dense, pillow-like crumb that Tiana slathered with remoulade, followed by a bed of shredded lettuce. "Alright, bring that lobster over while it's still hot."
In less than three strides, I was by Tiana's side, and for a moment, her body tensed before she seemingly pushed through her discomfort and put the final touches on the sandwiches.
Fried lobster was piled up high, to the point where I wondered if the sandwich would even close. But Tiana somehow made it work, and in the blink of an eye, two perfect sandwiches sat on the counter in front of us.
Though I was a bit confused when the recipe screen didn't pop up, 'I guess it's not really my recipe, all I did was lower a few pieces of lobster into oil.'
"Bon apitte," Tiana muttered nervously, an expectant look on her face as I picked up one of the sandwiches and took a bite.
My teeth sank into the still-warm French bread that had just the right amount of chew, and after a second, I managed to tear off a decent bite that I worked over, letting me taste the individual flavors and textures of the sandwich's ingredients slowly come together.
"So...what do you think?" Tiana asked expectantly as I slowly chewed before swallowing, "I can see why this is a staple where you come from. The lobster adds some needed sweetness to all the savory notes, making everything play together nicely."
Tiana let out a sigh of relief as she picked up her own sandwich and started eating.
For the next few minutes, very few words were exchanged between them, only the occasional satisfied sigh at a particularly tasty bite.
Finishing my sandwich first, I brushed my hands off before turning to address Tiana, "Well, I'm happy to say you passed this part of the application process. And there's only one more thing after this."
"Huh?" Tiana muttered, holding a hand over her mouth as it was still half full of po-boy.
"You can cook, there's no doubt about that, but working in a kitchen requires far more than just knowing how to cook," I lectured while crossing my arms, "Lucky for you, I'm a firm believer that tossing people into the deep end and forcing them to swim is one of the best ways to learn."
"Does that mean I get the job?" Tiana asked hesitantly.
"No, but it does mean I want you to work here in the kitchen tonight as a sort of trial run. I'll even pay you for your time, no matter how you do." I corrected before glancing at the clock, "I'll give you five minutes to decide if-"
"I'll do it!" Tiana replied, jumping on the offer without a second of hesitation.
"Alright then, that gives me an hour to walk you through the entire menu before we need to start prep. It's gonna be a lot of information coming at you all at once, and I don't have time to repeat myself. Think you can handle it?" I asked while staring Tiana down, seeing if she would crack under the pressure.
"I don't know, but there's only one way to find out," Tiana replied confidently with a determination that made me grin.
--[Tiana]--
I had always imagined what it would be like to work in a professional kitchen; TV shows made it seem chaotic and akin to a battlefield. Fortunately, I knew well enough that wasn't nearly the case; however, I had worked at enough restaurants to get a grasp of all the little pieces that needed to come together to make a kitchen function like a well-oiled machine.
And managing all of that was no small feat, so when Ramon started to go over the menu, he had my full attention.
Beyond wanting to get the job, a small part of me hadn't let go of my dream. Despite all the setbacks life had thrown at me, I still wasn't down for the count.
With each word, Ramon was proving himself to be more and more competent, and if I could extract just a small nugget of the wisdom, it just might give me the edge I needed.
Of course, I couldn't help but rule out the possibility that Ramon's accomplishment wasn't due to merit, but related to his spiritual nature.
After cooking with him for several hours, my initial trepidation had lessened considerably. He acted and behaved just like a human, and I would have liked to believe I was just imagining it, and nearly did until it came time to start cooking.
"So that's the entire menu, any questions?" Ramon asked as he walked over to a hook on the wall and pulled off two aprons, tossing me one of them.
"Not about the menu," I replied as I tied the apron behind me with deft fingers, "I was just wondering when the rest of the kitchen staff comes in."
"There is no 'rest of'," Ramon answered with a grunt as he rolled up his sleeves, "It's just you and me versus roughly three hundred hungry mouths."
My brain stuttered hard as I tried to comprehend what Ramon had just claimed as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, "What do you mean it's just you and I?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," Ramon answered as he walked over to the pantry and pulled out sacks of potatoes. "Now come help me peel these."
"You mean to tell me that since you opened, you've been the only chef?" I asked in disbelief, even as I jumped to help Ramon, not wanting to get on his bad side less than ten minutes into prep.
Ramon smirked as he tore open the bag and started pulling out spuds, "Why do you think I'm so eager to have you work here tonight?"
--[Patty]--
I walked into the Grillhouse with a slight grimace on my face. Even after doing everything in my power to sober up throughout the morning I was still feeling the affects of last night.
It didn't help when Meg came out of the ktichen practically dancing as if I hadn't seen her down shots like they were water last night, "Was wondering if I was going to see you today."
"I don't know why I ever let you talk me into drinking on a work night," I grumbled before glancing at the kitchen, where I could hear faint muttering, "Don't tell me that Ramon's date is still here."
Meg grinned, "No, that's the new chef he's interviewing. Her name's Tiana."
I frowned at the news, "Let me guess...she looks like a model."
"You know, instead of brooding and being upset that Ramon won't spend any time with you, you could just nip the problem in the bud and demand his attention," Meg suggested as if it were the most obvious solution, most likely because it was.
"I can't just walk up to him and complain like a little kid, expecting to get what I want," I argued with a frown.
"Oh, Patty, you don't need to use words to get what you want," Meg replied with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, "In fact, the fewer you use, the better."