Chapter 113: The Winner’s Scale (2)
Chapter 113: The Winner’s Scale (2)
The chefs’ gazes fixed on Kaya. She looked back at them as though wondering what the problem was.
“What’s with those looks?”
“……You say something like that with such a calm expression.”
“People say much worse things about me. Is something like this really a problem?”
“Good. I like your ambition. And I like your dish too.” He spoke while pointing towards the langoustine.
Kaya smirked. “I told you. It was made by the chef I admire most.”
“But is that kind of admiration really possible? He was eliminated before you. In the end, that means he’s a worse cook than you…… If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to admire him.”
At those words, Kaya’s eyes sharpened. “Disciples don’t always admire their teachers because their teachers are better than they are. In the first place, Minjoon has plenty of talents I don’t have. The reason he was eliminated before me was……he was just unlucky. Because he was a foreigner.”
“I don’t know about anything else, but I agree with what you said about someone being admirable even if they aren’t better than you. There are teachers who are highly skilled but aren’t admirable at all. And there are teachers who might not be especially skilled, yet are still admirable. I……” California glanced at New York. New York did not return her gaze, but it was obvious he was fully aware of it. “Well, I had an irresponsible teacher.”
“Hey! I took you in when you didn’t even have any experience and raised you properly………!”
“What do you mean I had no experience? I’d already spent ten years washing dishes for my mother.”
“So that’s why you broke so many plates? I shouldn’t even have paid you in the first place!”
“The plates were really slippery……”
California began eating the purée with an expression that made it seem as though she had been deeply wronged.
New York frowned as though he could not stand it.
Kaya quietly left the table. She did not know why she felt so good today. Even though this was a day when she should have been more nervous than ever, her heart was strangely peaceful.
On the other side, Anderson could not say the same. Of course, he was not showing any weakness. He led the kitchen more cool-headedly than ever, and there were no flaws in the food. Yet there was not the slightest trace of ease on his face.
Perhaps that was only natural in Anderson’s position. This was a moment that could decide the course of his life. It was the sort of place where, no matter how much one wanted to relax, it was impossible.
Even while directing the kitchen, Anderson repeatedly glanced towards the chefs. He did not miss a single moment of their expressions as they chewed, nor the sigh-like sounds that occasionally escaped their mouths. It might simply have been someone clearing their throat, or it might have been a sigh of disappointment. He could not tell.
One thing was certain: every time he heard one, Anderson’s heart trembled.
Don’t think about the competition. Focus on serving the customers. Concentrate, Anderson.
Even so, hope and anxiety tangled together inside his head. His heart pounded so violently that he found himself wondering whether he had really wanted this competition this badly. Whenever he imagined being eliminated, his breath caught as though it had already happened.
Ironically, the person who calmed Anderson down was Kaya.
He had no idea where her usual fierce, abrasive side had gone. At times, she even smiled gently like Chloe as she served the chefs. Seeing her like that made him even more nervous.
How irritating.
But even as he grumbled inwardly, he knew.
He had to imitate that irritating composure.
If someone asked which of the two of them looked inferior right now, everyone would point to him.
Anderson bit his lip. He could not fall behind. Not only Kaya—he did not want to fall behind anyone.
That did not mean he wanted to become the best. There was no such thing as an absolute best in the world of cooking. But there were certainly people who fell behind. He had watched countless senior chefs get pushed out of his parents’ restaurant, and he wanted to avoid ending up the same way.
Anderson placed a piece of roasted halibut belly on the plate and arranged thread-thin angel hair pasta over it. The halibut had been flambéed with white wine and lightly brushed with lime juice. The richness of the belly meat near the stomach was paired with angel hair that had been boiled with rosemary, then lightly fried in olive oil.
(Translator’s Note: Angel hair pasta — An exceptionally thin form of long pasta, finer than ordinary spaghetti. It belongs to the broader Italian tradition of very fine strand pastas.)
The garnish consisted of roasted peach, onions, and fresh beans.
Anderson placed the plates on the table with a calm expression and began explaining the dish plainly.
“I brushed lime juice over the skin of the halibut and used the belly meat. For the angel hair, I boiled it with rosemary and then fried it in olive oil. You’ll get a texture that feels like a first impression of Hong Kong.”
“Just like Amelia’s son. Even with a single dish, you play internationally. If I eat this, I won’t even need to travel around the world.”
“If you only mention Amelia, Fabio will be disappointed. He resembles Fabio in the way he doesn’t habitually rely on brown sauce or white sauce, and instead brings out the flavours of vegetables and fruit. But why aren’t your parents here? Ah, is it because of fairness? Or because there are two owners instead of one? Or did that Natalia take California’s throne away?”
“………I’m not here as the son of the Rousseau family. I’m here as Anderson. Let’s talk about my parents after the competition is over.”
“He’s as cold as ever. See? He definitely resembles Amelia. No……if it were Amelia, she probably wouldn’t stop there. Looking at that side of him, maybe he resembles Fabio after all……”
Anderson forced himself not to grimace.
Yet no matter which table he approached, the chefs’ eyes lit up as they tried to find traces of Amelia and Fabio in him.
It was tiresome.
He had entered this competition because he feared that the name Anderson would disappear if he continued living merely as their son. Yet now that he had come this far, his parents’ shadows seemed larger and darker than ever.
……I’m definitely going to win.
If he did, things would change.
He would no longer simply be the son of a famous chef couple. He would finally be able to stand on his own as a chef.
That was all Anderson wanted.
Grand Chef’s prestige and the three hundred thousand dollars were secondary. Escaping his parents’ shadow was the greatest task he had wanted to accomplish his entire life.
But he did not know whether his reason was as desperate as Kaya’s.
She had lived in poverty her whole life, to the point where he could not even be sure whether she had ever properly experienced the sort of “normal life” other people spoke of so casually.
Even so, Anderson had his own reason.
And he had the skills.
He did not want to lose because he did not believe he was inferior in ability. He was also the one managing his people. He had seen enough of them by now to trust the skills of his teammates. There might be some differences between them, but in the end, every one of them was talented enough to have reached the top ten.
And when Anderson compared himself with Kaya, he did not believe the gap between them was particularly large either.
That was what he thought.
That was what he believed.
Time passed.
Four hours went by.
The meal came to an end.
In the waiting room, Anderson loosened the tie at the neck of his uniform and dropped onto the sofa as though collapsing.
An exhausted voice escaped his throat. “You all worked hard. Thanks.”
“You had it the hardest. Cheer up. You can win.”
Anderson smiled faintly. He had no idea how the result would turn out, but he felt slightly more relaxed now. Perhaps it was because he knew he had given everything he had.
Kaya rested her neck against the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. The lamp was shining as it always did, yet for some reason it seemed brighter than usual. She felt dizzy. Was it because she had done too much in too short a time?
Chloe put a biscuit into Kaya’s mouth. Kaya turned towards her with a vacant expression, the biscuit still sticking out between her lips.
“You look like you need some sugar. Just eat for now.”
“Aieuuuueoi.”
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth.” Chloe snickered and pushed the biscuit farther in.
Kaya barely managed to swallow it before groaning. “Ughhhhh……”
Of course, it was closer to a moan than an actual word. She looked so drained that it seemed she did not even have enough strength left to close her mouth.
Kaya sat there with her mouth hanging open and did nothing.
She genuinely did nothing. She did not roll her eyes. She did not blink. She did not even seem to breathe.
How many seconds had she stayed like that? By the time Chloe had counted roughly thirty seconds in her head, Kaya suddenly dragged in several rough breaths.
“……Are you okay?”
“Not at all. But thank goodness today is the last day.”
“What are you going to do after the competition?”
“I don’t know. First, I’ll pay off my mum’s debt with the three hundred thousand dollars……and maybe we’ll move somewhere else? But even with three hundred thousand dollars, it’d be hard to get a one-bedroom place.”
“You could go to another state instead of staying in New York. There’s Georgia too.”
“I don’t know if my mother would want to leave New York. It’s been exhausting, but it’s still the place where we’ve spent almost half our lives.”
“So what?” Anderson cut her off. He looked at Kaya as though she were talking nonsense. “Why are you talking as if you’ve already won?”
“When did I?”
“The moment you started talking about what you’d do with the three hundred thousand dollars.”
“I don’t know. Maybe after you win, you’ll say, ‘Ah, actually, the true winner of this competition is Kaya Lotus. I’ll give not only the glory of this victory to Kaya Lotus, but the prize money as well.’”
“……A future where Alan and Emily get married would be more realistic than that.”
Kaya did not respond.
It seemed that even imitating Anderson just now had used up what little energy she had left. Only after a long silence did she speak again, her voice hoarse like someone who had been singing for hours.
“I didn’t even cook. Why am I this tired?”
“I’m the same. It’s normal.” Anderson answered bluntly.
Hugo spoke up. “I saw an interview with a chef a while ago. People think being a head chef is easy because you don’t personally hold the pan or knife and only have to check the dishes. But leading a kitchen drains more energy than people realise, because you have to keep track of everything happening in the kitchen in your head. That’s why you can never really relax…… Actually, I felt the same way when I became team leader. So imagine how much worse it must be on a day like today.”
“You two did well. You looked great.” Jo Minjoon smiled brightly as he said it.
He meant it.
The sight of them running towards their dreams seemed to shine. Just being able to stand in the same place with them made something warm spread through his chest.
Of course, that did not mean he felt no thirst at all. He was still half a step behind them. But he believed he would catch up soon.
No.
He was determined to.
There was no reason to feel miserable about it. If he had friends he could treat as goals to pursue, was that not a blessing? And even if he could never catch up to them for the rest of his life, viewed another way, that simply meant he would have a dream worth chasing for the rest of his life.
“I’m dying to know what the chefs are talking about right now.”
“They’re probably praising me.”
“They probably are. But they’ll be praising me even more.”
Even in their exhausted states, Anderson and Kaya glared at each other.
Jo Minjoon smiled bitterly.
Would the two of them ever develop a gentler relationship? Perhaps they would spend their whole lives disliking each other, like Rachel and Serguei.
It was then that a member of staff approached and called out.
“The two finalists, please go to the kitchen.”
“………Yes.” Anderson answered heavily and stood up.
Kaya looked more exhausted than nervous about the results.
Jo Minjoon looked at her. “You’ll win.”
“……I know.” For just a moment, Kaya’s voice sank heavily.
But only for a moment.
The next instant, she was already on her feet.
Then she began to walk.
The moment her low beige shoes stepped onto the next tile, Jo Minjoon unconsciously extended his own foot towards the crack in front of him.
But because he was stretching his leg out while seated, the tip of his shoe only trembled at the edge of the square tile.
Unless he stood up, he could not step onto the next one.
But now was not the time for him or Chloe to stand.
The only people allowed to stand now were Anderson and Kaya.
Only they could move forward.
Of course, one of them would end up walking farther than the other……
I have to stand up too.
Jo Minjoon clenched his fists.
His body felt restless.
At that moment, Chloe placed her hand over his fist.
Jo Minjoon slowly turned his head.
For one brief instant, he considered pulling his hand away. But when he saw the smile on Chloe’s lips, he could not do it.
She had covered his fist solely out of consideration.
It was simply her usual gentleness. Shaking her hand off would have meant rejecting that consideration and kindness. He did not know about anyone else, but he could not do that. He was not someone who could.
Chloe spoke. “It’s not the end.”
At those words, the unexpected tightness in his chest melted away at once.
Jo Minjoon smiled helplessly and relaxed his fist.
Chloe withdrew her hand, and Jo Minjoon spoke. “Right. It’s only the beginning.”