Chapter 161: Party Members Wanted (2)
Chapter 161: Party Members Wanted (2)
Pâtissier.
The general perception of a pâtissier was that they were bakers, and in practice, much of their work did revolve around baking. Traditionally, a pâtissier’s place was in front of the oven. Anything involving the oven was supposed to pass through the pâtissier’s hands, though depending on how the internal battle for territory in a kitchen played out, that could change.
A pâtissier even Teacher Rachel wants to hold on to…
Even if Jo Minjoon did not recognise the name, the man could hardly be ordinary.
As though reading the anticipation in Jo Minjoon’s eyes, Anderson laughed leisurely.
“If you taste his bread, you won’t want to put bread from any other shop in your mouth again.”
“Stop exaggerating. No matter how good it is, how could bread make you never want to eat any other bread?”
“…I was speaking figuratively.”
Having been branded a liar in an instant, Anderson grumbled unhappily.
Getting out of the restaurant was no easy task.
The same crowd that had surrounded the building when they entered was still gathered outside, and most of their attention remained fixed on the main entrance. Fortunately, there were only dozens of people for now, but the moment Rachel and the others stepped outside, everyone’s focus would inevitably turn towards them, and even more people would probably gather.
“…How are we supposed to get through that?”
“First, everyone get in the car.”
Anderson pointed towards the nine-seater SUV parked outside.
Before leaving, Rachel turned towards Isaac.
“Isaac. I’m leaving the restaurant to you while we’re gone.”
“Are you confident you can convince Jack? You know how stubborn that man is.”
“I’m not sure. Then again, Jack getting angry isn’t exactly unusual.”
“This is different from before. Jack’s been angry for ten years.”
At Isaac’s words, Jo Minjoon searched through his memory.
The flagship restaurant had also closed ten years ago. Did that mean Rachel and Jack had not met even once since then?
Rachel frowned slightly, looking uncertain. But a moment later, as though she had steeled herself, the frown disappeared.
“If he gets angry, I’ll just have to accept it.”
With that, the four of them stepped outside.
Isaac watched them through the window before eventually letting out a deep sigh.
“That won’t be your only problem.”
[…And now for our next story. Rachel Rose has returned to Rose Island, the so-called ghost restaurant of Venice that has remained closed for nearly ten years. Accompanying her are Grand Chef runner-up Anderson Rousseau and third-place contestant Jo Minjoon.]
[That’s wonderful news! It’s almost as though Los Angeles has gained another three-star restaurant.]
[Well, technically it isn’t a three-star restaurant anymore. After being closed for ten years, it lost its stars. If we judge it by the Rose Island of ten years ago, earning three stars again shouldn’t be a problem—but that assumes Rachel hasn’t lost her touch during her long absence. And there’s also the issue of her late husband, Daniel Rose, no longer being there.]
[I believe Rose will succeed. True talent doesn’t rust with time. I’m also very interested in her two new disciples. Anderson and Minjoon—I’m personally a fan of both.]
[The amusing part is that Anderson Rousseau is the son of the Rousseau couple, the chef-owners of Glouto nearby. He’s practically going into competition against his own parents. Around now, they must be—]
Click.
The radio shut off.
Anderson coughed awkwardly.
Amelia spoke with a gentle expression.
Her voice, however, was not gentle in the slightest.
“Did you hear what that DJ said?”
“No. I didn’t. I’m concentrating on driving.”
“He said you couldn’t stand being at Glouto?”
“What? He didn’t say anything like that!”
“Since you know he didn’t say that, you must have been listening. You dare lie to your own mother?”
Anderson frowned.
Jo Minjoon laughed as he looked at Amelia.
“Don’t be too hard on him. I’m sure Anderson will mature eventually.”
“I wish Anderson had grown into a good boy like you. Maybe it’s because you grew up in an Asian household, but you’re very well behaved. Your parents raised you well.”
“…Mum, you know that’s racist.”
“Does your generation call even something like this racist? I’m only talking about a positive trait.”
“Whether it’s positive or negative, a stereotype is still a stereotype.”
“Fine. Your mother was wrong.”
Amelia raised both hands in surrender.
It was the first time Jo Minjoon had ever seen Anderson win against his mother.
After a brief awkward silence, Jo Minjoon spoke cautiously.
“To be honest, I was pretty envious of Anderson. Growing up with chefs as talented as you and Fabio must have been wonderful. At least when it came to meals.”
“Hoho. I’m glad to hear you say that. It’s a pity I’ve never heard anything like it from Anderson. Should we just adopt you as our son, Minjoon? What do you think? They say a rolling stone can push out one already lodged in place. Maybe you could shove Anderson aside and become the future owner of Glouto—”
“We’re here.”
Anderson cut her off coldly as he stopped the car.
Amelia glared at the back of his head, but Anderson could not see it.
Jo Minjoon slowly got out.
They were in Santa Monica, on a side street near Clover Park. It looked as though several ordinary houses had been converted into shops.
One building had nothing more than a plain sign reading:
Bread
There was absolutely nothing distinctive about it.
The strange thing was that despite the utterly plain sign, the shop was packed with customers.
Jo Minjoon felt his pocket.
Fortunately, he had his wallet.
“Teacher Rachel, can I buy some bread?”
“Let’s go inside first.”
Jo Minjoon hurried after them.
The fragrance of bread brushing against his nose was almost irresistible.
Then system windows began appearing one after another.
Eight points.
Eight points.
Another eight.
No special ingredients had been added. It was simply dough that had been properly made and baked. Yet even without cream, fillings, or other additions, the bread alone scored eight points.
If he compared it to cooking, it would be like making plain pasta noodles with no sauce and still receiving an eight-point score.
With the basic bread already at that level, there was no need to ask how good the varieties with cream, cheese, jam, or other additions would be.
There were plenty of nine-point breads as well.
But no ten-point bread appeared.
There were dishes that tasted good despite having low scores, but Jo Minjoon had never encountered a high-scoring dish that was mediocre. Unless the flavour simply did not suit someone’s personal preference, there was no way anyone could call these breads anything but delicious.
Jo Minjoon’s eyes glittered as he placed a crisp doughnut, a scone, and a croissant into a basket before heading towards the counter.
The cashier was a memorable white woman with green eyes. She looked to be around thirty.
“How much is it?”
“Five dollars and thirty cents.”
“Here you go.”
Jo Minjoon handed over the money.
The woman opened the till as she spoke. Her expression remained calm and gentle, without the slightest trace of irritation. Her sweet voice reminded him of a flight attendant.
“Will you be eating here?”
“Yes.”
Jo Minjoon had just begun gazing lovingly at the bread after it was placed on a plate in front of him when a voice came from behind.
“Lisa?”
“…Rachel?”
For the first time, a crack appeared in the woman’s calm expression.
She looked towards Rachel with visibly tense eyes.
Rachel anxiously searched the space behind Lisa.
“Is… Jack here?”
“That’s what you have to say after showing up here for the first time in ten years? Just…”
“I want to meet Jack.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think my father wants to see you.”
Lisa answered firmly.
There was no nostalgia in her eyes for someone who had not contacted them once during the past ten years.
If anything, there was a faint uncertainty there.
Just as Rachel was about to ask about that look, Amelia, who had been watching from behind, stepped forward.
“Lisa, wouldn’t it be better to let them meet? There’s no point in letting them keep tearing each other apart like this. You can’t just slap a bandage over an open wound and pretend it’s healed. It needs proper treatment.”
“…Treatment? Fine. But that treatment should have happened ten years ago. What does she hope to accomplish by coming now? Amelia, you know what my dad has been like lately.”
“Did something… happen to Jack?”
Rachel asked cautiously.
For a moment, Lisa looked upset. Then she noticed the line of customers waiting behind them and sighed.
“…Fine. Go through that door over there. I need to deal with the customers.”
“I’m sorry, Lisa. Let’s talk again soon.”
Lisa did not answer.
As Rachel and Amelia began walking away, Jo Minjoon secretly looked down at the paper box.
He quietly took out a scone and bit into it.
The happiness spreading through his mouth made him smile despite himself.
Anderson looked at him with ridicule.
Jo Minjoon’s ears reddened in embarrassment.
“Is it good?”
Jo Minjoon nodded without speaking.
“I think… it would be best if I spoke to him alone.”
“Will you be all right?”
“This is between the two of us. We need to settle it ourselves. But if it looks like the conversation is getting too heated, can I ask you to come in and mediate?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
In the hallway outside the living room, Rachel stood still and tried to calm herself.
Her heart was beating quickly.
She had not felt this nervous since Jo Minjoon agreed to join her restaurant.
Back then, the trembling had come from happiness.
Now it came from anxiety.
That was the only difference.
An elderly man stood beside a fireplace containing nothing but cold ashes.
Rachel’s footsteps stopped.
The old man—Jack—stared at her.
She would have understood if his eyes had been filled with anger.
They were not.
Jack spoke calmly.
“It’s been ten years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t bother apologising. I have no intention of accepting it. The reason I’m not raising my voice isn’t because I’ve forgiven you. I simply don’t have the strength anymore. Rachel, ten years ago, you abandoned everything because you said you couldn’t run Rose Island without Daniel.”
“…Yes.”
“You’re selfish.”
Jack’s voice was tired.
Rachel could see how much her friend had aged with the passing years.
He continued slowly.
“Rose Island belonged to you and Daniel. I know that. But I had memories there too. Memories of the time I spent with both of you, and dreams about the years that were supposed to come afterwards. The moment you collapsed… my life collapsed with yours. You should have endured it. No matter how painful it was, no matter how heavy the burden became, you should have endured…!”
“Back then, I… had fallen into a swamp. I had neither the confidence nor the desire to swim out of it. I’m sorry.”
“So? Have you found that desire now? What was it? What finally made you come looking for me after not contacting me even once in ten years?”
“Hope.”
Jack’s brows furrowed.
Rachel hurriedly continued.
“I found a child who reminds me of Daniel. The world Daniel saw—I’m convinced this child can feel it too and eventually make it his own. With him, we can restore Rose Island to its former glory.”
“In the end, it’s still Daniel.”
Jack’s voice remained low.
“I know. He was a genius. He shone brilliantly. But are you planning to spend the rest of your life chasing an imitation of his light?”
“It isn’t an imitation. If all I wanted was to imitate what Daniel did and call that enough, I wouldn’t be able to stand here and show you my face. Believe me.”
Jack silently stared at her.
His gaze was heavy and painful.
Rachel wanted to look away.
She could not.
This was something she had to endure.
Jack slowly spoke again, his voice trembling with pain.
“It’s too late, Rachel. Ten years is too long.”
“I know. I also know it won’t be easy to earn your forgiveness. That’s why I’m begging you. Just once… just this once, overlook what I did. We can bring back the kitchen we had before.”
“Like I said. Rachel, ten years is a long time.”
Jack raised one hand.
The moment it emerged from beneath the blanket covering him, Rachel’s eyes widened.
It was not because of the wrinkles.
His hand was trembling.
So badly that she could not help wondering whether he could even hold a cup.
Those were not hands capable of kneading dough anymore.
Jack spoke in a shaking voice.
“If you had come a little sooner… even just a few years earlier, if you had come then… I would have been angry. But in the end, I would have gone back with you.”
His voice cracked.
“But Rachel… I can’t anymore.”
“Jack, this… how…”
“Why did it take you so long to come, Rachel? Why did you wait so long?”
Tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.
Regret.
Resentment.
Dreams that had been crushed long ago.
All of it seemed to dissolve into those small tears.
They reached his lips and soaked the words that followed.
“Ten years… was too long.”