Chapter 1 - A Specialty Dish
"Speech" – Speech
'Thoughts' – Thoughts
Disclaimer: I do not own Gordon Ramsay or Jack Ramsay and is simply using their names and personalities from "Kitchen Nightmares" and "Hell's Kitchen" as OC's on a non-profit project.
.
.
.
.
Check out my Youtube Channel: Panda Inspirations!
IMPORTANT NOTE: PLEASE READ THE STORY IN 1/2 SETTING FOR BEST SPACING.
London, England
A tall blonde-haired man, his arms crossed and his face wearing a focused expression, stood just in front of a counter, directly across from where a boy of similar appearance seemed to be working. A simple white chef's jacket creased as the man walked around the counter, facing the boy from the other side of the kitchen.
"Right, You may start."
As soon as the deep commanding voice that was carried through by a British accent reached the boy's ears, his hands immediately gripped the handle of his recently sharpened Miyabi knife, not too hard, but firm enough to have great control of it without slipping.
'Alright, calm down, even breaths, it's just another time you cook for him.'
He could feel his father's eyes on him, as if the devil himself looked down with the penance stare.
'It's like he is judging me for every single movement, like an eye of an ever watchful champion that I could never overcome.' Calming himself down to face his foe, he put his trusty Bourgeat frying pan onto the stove.
A simple chef's hat, embroidered with elegant letters spelling 'Ramsay' seemed to ripple from the fluid cuts made directly on a pile of black mushrooms.
'Okay, mushrooms are prepped, need to sear the beef.' With his hands off the knife, which was gently laid to the side, he removed three layers of cling film on the beef fillet he left to chill the day before. The recipe certainly wasn't a hard one, but to take on such a powerful foe on its own territory was an uphill battle from the start.
The olive oil gave a sharp hiss as the beef was placed in to sear. There can be no mistakes, one second longer and it will no doubt fail the test. As if it were the jaws of an alligator, waiting for hours for the perfect timing to strike, he lifted the beef from its pan to allow it to cool.
Without hesitation, he put a finger to the fillet to fill its firmness, he was sure it was perfect, but it never hurt to double check.
'Hmm, just under medium rare, perfect.'
It was time for the next step, the mushroom was already cut and the pan was already heated. It was now the second wave of the battleground, filled with the juices and oil from the beef, it would enhance the flavour of the Duxelle [A French mushroom paste] when it was done.
He knew that seasoning worked far better when it was done before cooking, as taught by his father. If it was done after, the flavour would have already been set. Reaching to the side, he carefully sprinkled sea salt and black pepper into the cooking mushrooms, finishing off by adding a touch of thyme to enhance its flavour.
Approximately ten minutes passed before he looked back to the pan and saw that the formation of the mushroom paste - Duxelle, has finished. Smirking to himself, he laid down two slices of parma ham on the film. Everything was still perfect, he had practiced these movements for ten years, each time getting better than the last, each fight getting closer to victory. Snapping out of his thoughts, he took out the paste and smeared it over the ham in an even layer.
As soon as the spread was consistent, he reached for the fillet on the side and placed it on top of the mushroom paste, seasoning it with sea salt and pepper before rolling the sides of the ham to encompass the beef.
He then brushed a piece of puff pastry with the egg wash - a mixture of egg yolks, sea salt, and water. With movements that were both strong and graceful, befitting of a knight, he carefully wrapped the pastry around the beef, making a near perfect rotation with the excess just enough to be squeezed together to seal the ends.
'The Waiting game has begun,' he thought as he covered the pastry covered beef with cling film and put it in the fridge to chill.
As soon as he took the fillet out of the fridge, he removed the film, scored the pastry then put the dish into an oven preheated to 200 Celcius. As if by instinct, the timer was set to ten minutes, which was the minimum time needed, all that was after was to watch until the pastry became a perfect golden brown.
It was the calm before the storm, there would be no second chances if the dish was taken out too early or too late, it must be timed perfectly or else the ship will sink, along with its captain.
Roughly 16 minutes into cooking, the instincts he developed from over a decade of cooking, not to mention the same dish, came into play, telling him that now was the time.
As soon as the oven opened, it was like a piece of art finally clicked in, like he was an artist who had finally realized the missing aspect of his masterpiece. A seemingly golden glow enveloped the dish that was taken out. A brilliant aroma filled the room, one far stronger than any he created before.
With a confident stride, he took his dish into his arms and walked towards his father. They both knew that the dish should be allowed to cool for ten minutes. So the taste would just have to wait.
This was it. He had experienced this a countless amount of times, to cook for chefs that were infinitely more skilled. Even though his exterior didn't betray his emotion, inside, he was starting to shake. He could not remember exactly how many times he cooked - failed - that dish. But despite his fluttering heart beat and the queasy feeling rising from the bottom of his stomach, he felt that this was it.
A mere ten minutes seemed like an eternity, no words were exchanged between the two, what seemed like a simple test from father to son was more like two knights that constantly fought against each other, where one held all the victories.
With a knife in his right hand and a fork in his left, the father approached the dish. An expressionless face paired with graceful, almost practiced movements only served to unnerve the young chef.
'I won't back down, not this time,' the boy thought, steeling his will and looking straight at his father.
"Tender," the man commented as he slowly cut into the dish with a steak knife. He took in the aroma as the trapped fragrance finally broke its way out; an ever small smile gracing his aged features. "Brilliant aroma."
As soon as the son heard those words, he could not help but pump his fists lightly, accompanied by a silent 'yes'. Cooking was like one of those ninja warrior games, each obstacle had to be maneuvered for the entire course to be complete. Just like how each step of a dish must be perfected for it to achieve its flavour.
"Let's have a taste."
He knew he would like it. Every single task was completed to the best of his ability, no mistakes, not a single one. Yet a single shred of doubt snuck its way into the back of his mind.
His father took a bite of a piece of medium rare beef accompanied by a pastry baked to a perfect golden brown that glistened from the lights of the kitchen.
Chew.
Chew.
Chew.
It was not the way how a customer would sample the dish, it was an experienced chef feeling for any discrepancies in the quality, making sure to taste every aspect of the dish.
…
"It is acceptable."
'Yes!' Those words brought forth both happiness and relief, one from finally gaining his father's approval, and one from finally escaping the massive tension created by his powerful aura. Any longer and he would have lost his demeanor.
Deep down, he wanted his father to say it was delicious, to create a dish that could even make him - the greatest in the world - want more. But for now, as long as his dish wasn't terrible, or 'couldn't even be fed to a dog', it was fine.
Taking off his chef's hat, he placed it back to the large brief case he took it out from earlier. His confidence perked up as the tension left the air; a smile gracing his features while he walked back to just in front of his father.
Then the words that he waited a decade to say finally came out.
"And that's how you make a perfect Beef Wellington."
.
.
.
.
Chapter 1 Finished! Next Chapter - A new mission!
Make sure to check out my other stories!
[ROTLB: The Birth of the Light Bringer]
[ROTLB: Light of Fairies]
[A God's Redemption]
[The Nothing Dragon Slayer's Misadventures in Earthland]
I'm always down for constructive feedback, so please review!
A special thanks to "PandaNoodles" for creating the cover pic :)
Check out my Youtube Channel: Panda Inspirations!
Minipa, out!