Disclaimer: I do not own VA and thank Richelle Mead for writing such an awesome series.
Happy to see so much interest in the story – I hope I can do it justice
Here is some background on the main characters and setting (I used Google for translations, so if incorrect, I apologise in advance) …
Location = Sydney (specifically in the suburb of Newtown) but everything else is made up (including restaurants)
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Turkish restaurant owned by the Mazurs – Tϋrkiye Mϋcevher (Jewel of Turkey)
Owners:
Abe (Chef de cuisine – Head Chef)
Janine (Hostess / Manager / Bookkeeper)
Sous-chef de cuisine = Rose (subchef)
Her siblings:
Christian (Owns nightclub – Vasi)
Eddie (Owns online company – Turkish Delights and Patissier at the restaurant)
Mason (Bartender and waiter)
Other people at the restaurant:
Sonya (Abe's younger sister - Cuisinier)
Mikhail (Sonya's husband – Garde manger)
Ambrose (Abe's nephew – Head waiter)
Pavel (Abe's brother – Chef de partie)
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Russian restaurant owned by the Belikovs– Gordost Rossii (Pride of Russia)
Owners:
Victor (Chef de cuisine – Head Chef)
Olena (Hostess / Manager / Bookkeeper)
Sous-chef de cuisine = Dimitri
His siblings:
Karolina (Cuisinier)
Sonya (Owns boutique - Printsessa)
Viktoria (Bartender and waitress)
Other people at the restaurant:
Ivan (Victor's nephew - Patissier)
Oksana (Victor's sister – Garde manger)
Mark (Oksana's husband – Chef de partie)
Tasha (Victor's sister – Head waitress)
Retired but prominent consultant – Yeva
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Italian restaurant – La Corte (The Court)
Owner & Chef de cuisine – Tatiana Ivashkov
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Italian restaurant owned by the Innocentis – Spirito di Italia (Spirit of Italy)
Owner & Chef de cuisine = Adrian
His siblings:
Lissa (Hostess / Manager / Bookkeeper)
Mia (Head waitress)
Jill (Patissier)
Other people at the restaurant:
Sydney (Sous-chef de cuisine)
Jesse (Garde manger)
Avery (Cuisinier)
Angeline (Chef de partie)
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Judging panel for 'Restaurant Wars' = Hans, Kirova, Alberta and Robert
Host of 'Restaurant Wars' = Galina
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Two rival restaurants and chefs – what happens when love joins the menu?
Restaurant Wars
CHAPTER 1
Rose POV
Let me set the record straight – I'm no princess!
Yes I was blessed, having been born into a family of considerable wealth, and was bestowed with indescribable beauty (thanks to my parent's stellar genes!), but I was a firm believer of hard work and tough love – which is why at the tender age of 25 I was subchef for my family restaurant, Tϋrkiye Mϋcevher.
Since I could remember, I've spent every waking moment (that wasn't spent at home or school) immersing myself in my family's restaurant, and my most favourite part (naturally) was the kitchen. From a very young age, I was passionate about cooking and was eager (more than my brothers and cousins) to learn all the family recipes. My passion and dedication was equal to that of my father's.
I wasn't his eldest, in fact I was his third child, and even though my brothers (bar one) helped out with the restaurant, my father had been more than happy to have broken the Mazur family tradition of passing down the 'subchef' title to me (rather than the eldest son as it was done so in the past).
One things for sure – being the only girl, with two older brothers and a younger one, has not been easy. I'm constantly surrounded by ambitious and driven men, not to mention overly protective.
Christian was the eldest but had decided that the restaurant wasn't his calling. Instead he owned an equally successful nightclub, Vasi (Guardian), in the city. Eddie (the second eldest) loved working at the restaurant (maybe not as much as me) but his talent lay in desserts & sweets, so was happy in his role as patissier. His passion had motivated him to travel all around the world, learning all types of skills and forms of making delectable desserts. He had even spent a year (post culinary school) in Istanbul, learning everything there was to learn about making traditional Turkish sweets and desserts. When not working at the restaurant, Eddie ran a successful online company that specialised in, yup, desserts.
Mason (my youngest brother & the baby of the family) was still at university, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. His contribution to the restaurant came in the form of bartending and waiting the tables. No one in the family could figure out whether Mason would turn out like Eddie (and stick with the family business) or branch out like Christian (and do his own thing). Baba and Anne were proud of their four children, and never pressured us into anything we didn't want to do. They were content that at least 2 of the 4 had remained with the restaurant and so weren't worried that the Mazur legacy would be forgotten.
Stifling a big yawn, I woke up before my alarm. Since having become sous-chef de cuisine a year ago, my drive and motivation in my job increased ten-fold, and the girl who used to struggle and whine about waking up early, was now more than happy to jump out of bed at 4.30 in the morning Mon-Sat (the restaurant opened late on Sundays, due to Anne's tradition of attending early morning service).
Taking a quick shower and grabbing my first cup of Turkish coffee (the only form of coffee I can stand), I made my way to the restaurant.
Most people would be bored with routine, but I loved it. My days would always (more or less) be the same – wake up early, get ready, head to the restaurant to go over the inventory for the day (the Mazur's prided themselves on getting fresh ingredients daily to ensure high quality), prep the kitchen for the day (the restaurant served breakfast from 6.30am to 11.30am and lunch from 11.30am to 3.30pm) & night (dinner commenced from 5.30pm and went until 10.30pm, unless it was a slow day), and finally make sure everything was left in order for the next day. So yes, I worked crazy hours (not many people could pull-off working 18 hours every day!) but I wouldn't have it any other way. I loved my job and the place I worked, so didn't mind that I only got 4-5 hours' sleep each day!
Because of my dedication to my family and career, my social life was non-existent. The last time I dated was in the first semester of culinary school, and I found it to be a very dull and boring experience. None of the 'boys' (for that is ultimately what they were, regardless of their age) could barely keep up with my intelligence and wit. They also didn't share my love of cooking and food (even though one of the guys was from my class). This further reinforced my decision to not waste time with such activities and instead focus on my profession and the family restaurant.
I didn't mind the fact that at age 25 I was still a virgin and lived with my family. In fact all of the Mazur children still lived at home, not only because it was tradition (you only moved out once you were, at the very least, engaged or preferably married) but because we were a close family who loved one another and actually enjoyed spending time together. The Mazur's had a few family traditions that we adhered to, such as having breakfast together at the restaurant (just before it opened) each day, my brothers attending Friday prays at the Gallipoli mosque with Baba and the entire family attending early morning service at our local church every Sunday.
Yes, my father was Muslim and my mother Christian, and they compromised by raising their children under both faiths. I, personally, was Agnostic – I believed in a higher being, but couldn't bring myself to form attachments to a specific form of worship.
To outsiders, it probably would have seemed strange, but to us it was just how our parent's raised us – religion was a big part of our lives, and Anne wasn't the first Christian to have married into the Mazur family, so the incorporation of both Islam and Christianity in the Mazur family was a long standing tradition.
The bottom line was that I was happy with my life and wouldn't change a thing.
As per normal, Saturday was a busy day at the restaurant. I was naturally throwing orders around in the kitchen (Baba has weekends off, so I take over as head chef), and in the chaos of the lunch rush, I didn't notice when Anne returned from her outing.
Janine Hathaway Mazur (my Anne) was a straight-forward woman. She was the 'tough love' parent, while Abe Mazur (my Baba) showered his children with 'love and encouragement'. Even though they both had their own styles of parenting, the one thing they agreed on and preached was 'no secrets, no lies'. So I didn't even spare a thought to where my mother could have been for the last couple of hours, figuring it couldn't have been of any importance.
Because I was so wrapped up in my own world, I failed to perceive Anne's questioning gaze. She had spent the entire day in the back office (which looked into the kitchen) and had done nothing but stared at me continuously. Like I said, I didn't even notice this scrutiny, but Uncle Pavel did.
When we had closed up in preparation for dinner, he came over and whispered his suspicions. Listening to his observations, I found myself staring straight into my Anne's piercing gaze and wondered what thoughts could possibly be running through her mind that produced the determined look in her blue eyes.
Little did I know that at that very moment she was in the early stages of planning an operation that was about to change my life forever!
Being sleep deprived does not help with the creative juices or writing ability – this chapter took longer to write than I'd hoped because I kept falling asleep.
So any mistakes, please let me know… hopefully I edited out the major ones…