Matthew was in town for a little over a week. Matthew had quite the job; a wandering food critic. He could travel across the world, from city to city so he could rate the food and service of restaurants. It was kind of funny too, Matt was rather shy and quite in person but his reviews could make or break a restaurant. In all honesty it was a good thing too, being invisible to most made it easy for him to see the real side of an eatery not just the side that the servers and cooks wanted critics to see.

He took a seat at one of the booths by the window. The place was nice enough. Just like most diners it had that fifties decor, nothing interesting.

"Hello. How are you doing today?"

"F-fine..."

"My name is Arthur. If you need anything just let me know."

"Okay.", he said meekly.

Arthur dealt with those kind of people before; The kind that would never speak above a whisper. So, he kept nearby to hear him better.

This time he figured he would try something light. Since he previously partook of the breakfast place on the other side of the town. But after a second look at the menu it was obvious that his options would be limited. Double Cheeseburger with fries. Country Fried Steak with mashed potatoes and Gravy. Chili Cheese Fries with extra bacon.

This food was making his breath short just thinking about it.

"Look I'm not allowed to say but there's a restaurant right across the street. It's kinda pricey,but might suit you better if you're looking for something healthier.", Arthur told him.

It's was true. Right across the street a new restaurant had just opened about six months prior. It was a Chinese/Japanese fusion restaurant owned by two guys, Yao and Honda, Alfred had known them since childhood. They had been friends before but the opening of their restaurant put a real strain on the friendship.

In fact, just after Arthur told him about it a loud crash came from the kitchen. It seemed almost intentional...

"I would but I don't have a lot of money anyway."

"You could get a salad without the cheese, bacon, and onion rings..."

"Wouldn't that just leave lettuce, tomato, and triple cheese ranch dressing with extra bacon in it?", Matthew pointed out in increasing frustration.

"Well besides the water there isn't anything else- oh wait! There are Zesty Cakes."

"What are 'Zesty Cakes'?", Matt stared at him in confusion.

"They are cakes made from fresh vegetables and deep fried."

Well it's better than having water for lunch. He really wasn't looking for anything fried but it would have to due. When Arthur came back with his food he was even more disappointing. They looked like the bottom of his shoe after he stepped on a leftover dog "present". The smell was even worse, like the cook burnt it but thought he could scrap some of the burnt parts off.

"These are really good!", he said in excitement. It was true too. It wasn't often that a dish could make him this happy. Not even the restaurant across the street could.

"I'm glad you like them.", Arthur said clearly pleased with himself.

"What makes them so zesty?"

The server's smile dropped. "That's a secret only the chef knows. You're welcome to ask him if you want but I doubt that he would say."

"Well... I. Uh..."

But it was too late, the server disappeared into the kitchen. Then there was the unmistakable crash of dishes followed by yelling and then silence. Another man, blond like the other one, stepped from behind the door. He was had stains on his red, white, and blue apron. His hair was sticking up on his head and he had sweat stains under his armpits. The expression on his face was a mix of happiness and exhaustion.

"Are you the chef?", he asked once the man got to his table.

"Why yes I am! Alfred F. Jones, at your service!", the man stuck out his grease covered hand.

"I'm Matthew.", he cringed a little at the thought of touching his hand but grabbed the chefs hand anyway and shook it.

"So... I heard from my Uncle that you like my food."

"Yeah. It's really good."

" I get all sorts of people asking me what's in the cakes but I never tell them. I thought he already told you."

"He did but... I thought..."

"Listen, Justin Bieber. I'm not telling anyone what I put in the cakes, no matter how nice they ask.", Alfred gave him a wink before going back in the kitchen again.

If only Alfred knew it was rudeness like that which caused eateries to close. He was lucky that his food was really good.

Every day for a week Alfred ate at that diner. In the same booth, by the same window, eating the same dish. Every day Alfred would notice him sitting there. A few times, to mess with the Canadian, he would change the recipe slightly to see if he would notice. Nothing major. Just a dash of Chile flakes or frying it in a different kind of oil. Of course he would, but being the shy person he was he would never say anything.

Once three days of this went by Alfred was more curious. Then a week of this Alfred had had enough. He left the kitchen, making Arthur take notice and stood at Matthew's table. Matthew looked up in surprise.

"You come in here every single day and order the same thing. Do you really like it that much?", he asked with a smirk.

"I'm just curious to what makes it so zesty. It's such an interesting taste."

"You aren't from around here are you?", Alfred sat at his table.

Matthew looked down at his plate, "Was it that obvious?"

Alfred nodded.

"I work as a critic. I came here to sample from the best local restaurants."

"I know that. Arthur told me the first day you came in."

So he wasn't that invisible after all.

"Just because you're a famous critic doesn't mean I'll treat you any different from anyone else that comes in."

"Is that why you kept coming back here?", Alfred asked.

"Well to be honest. I like this place... It's nice.", he blushed lightly.

"Lemon zest."

"What?"

"You asked me what makes them so zesty when we first met. Well it's lemon zest and a little bit of apple cider vinegar."

"Thank you, Alfred."

"Anytime, Matthew."