Chapter 528: Unexpected Twist (8)
Chapter 528: Unexpected Twist (8)
“Well, I didn’t expect this,” Daisy said.
Deborah, lost in thought, turned to her side, stunned.
Smiling, Daisy handed Deborah a cup of coffee. Deborah smiled awkwardly and took it.
“What do you mean? You think I asked to be tested first?”
“I know you don’t like to volunteer first in situations like this.”
“Well, you can’t always do what you like,” Deborah replied with a smile.
She sipped the latte through a straw; it tasted like bananas.
“Are you sure you can do well?”
“I wouldn’t have volunteered if I wasn’t confident.”
“Oh, I guess you already have a good recipe in mind!”
Instead of replying, Deborah smiled again and took another sip.
Every chef at Rose Island had been busy last year, but she especially so.
“I wanted to fight and overcome my inferiority complex at all costs,” Deborah said.
Daisy nodded silently, knowing why Deborah had agonized until now. She understood how serious Deborah’s resolve was this time.
“Do you know what I did every morning when I woke up?”
“What did you do?”
“I had to give up,” Deborah muttered bitterly. “Every morning. I gave up the best of my potential, my dreams, ambition, pride, and happiness. Even though I wasn’t unlucky, I buried myself in misfortune. I was alive but living in a gravestone.”
Though it was behind her now, her voice showed traces of deep despair recalling those days.
“So I’ve given up the job of giving up.”
“Oh, you mean you stopped giving up.”
It was a humorous phrase. Daisy smiled, finding Deborah’s expression amusing.
“You know, they all assume June or Dave will win this competition. The championship is ‘reserved’ for them. But I don’t want to be treated as an extra participant.”
“I feel the same. Who’d be happy with that?”
“So, I intend to take it from them,” Deborah said firmly, serious as ever. “I won’t just stand by and watch them take all the credit. What about you? Will you be a bystander?”
“I’m right there with you!” Daisy said with a meaningful smile. “If I see a jewel in front of me, how could I not reach for it?”
“Then you understand my feelings, right?”
“Everyone will. I’m here to praise you. Volunteering first is the hardest decision, and you made it. Good job!”
“Hey, don’t act like my older sister.”
Deborah grumbled but wasn’t offended.
Daisy glanced toward the kitchen in the auditorium. Deborah was already preparing dishes requiring long cooking times, like ripening or sous vide.
Watching Deborah’s busy kitchen staff, Daisy asked, “What’s your course? What’s the point of it?”
“Well, my point is...”
Time passed. When Deborah’s dishes were tested on D-day, other chefs seemed more nervous than her. It was natural—now the competition ball was rolling, it was their turn, so nerves were expected.
But Deborah was calm. Her preparation was far from perfect, but she had done all she could. She had worked hard every day cultivating her skills, sometimes feeling the days too short.
Some might say she was foolish, struggling despite the vast gap between her and the top candidates. They might question why she tried when defeat seemed insurmountable.
But Deborah believed that without striving, she would remain stagnant forever. Whether she succeeded today mattered less than that she dared to challenge and moved forward.
She looked sharply at her kitchen team. They weren’t just cooking for Minjoon and Rachel; they also served the head chefs.
June muttered, watching Deborah’s staff prepare dishes for dozens.
“Deborah’s doing better than I thought.”
“Yeah, she looks steadier than before.”
“We’ll see how much she’s improved when we taste her dishes.”
June sensed Deborah’s growth just from her kitchen management. Deborah was no longer the old Deborah. But what about her cooking? A chef couldn’t change overnight, no matter how much she wished. While experience could inspire new recipes, one couldn’t craft what they’d never experienced.
Soon, Deborah’s amuse-bouche arrived—served on a wooden chopping board. It was a macaron, but far from an ordinary sweet macaron.
Calmly, Deborah explained, “This macaron meringue is mixed with beet juice. The cream inside is mackerel pâté. On top is pickled cucumber.”
“Macaron with mackerel pâté…”
A curious combination.
Minjoon caught Rachel’s eye as they picked up the macaron and tasted it. He clenched his fist, groaning with pleasure.
It was a flavour unlike anything Deborah had produced before. The Deborah he once knew couldn’t produce such a taste. She had always been passive and timid. So how did she bring this out? Every element seemed to demand the judges’ attention.
Minjoon hadn’t expected much from her dish—not because he underestimated her skills, but because it was a simple combination: macaron, pâté, and pickles. Amuse-bouche often aimed to highlight one or two flavours rather than mix many.
But Deborah’s amuse-bouche was different. Her macaron was different. She was different.
The faint scent of beet rose from below, while the pâté’s flavour strongly stimulated his tongue. The meringue was so perfect that every chew cracked to release pâté’s rich taste mingled with pickles’ freshness.
He wondered how it would taste wrapped in lettuce—big enough for one bite, yet he felt a mouthful.
Man, she’s a tough competitor...
It wasn’t just Minjoon who felt this. Many head chefs likely shared the same mindset.
At that moment, the heavy responsibility of fair evaluation weighed on him—he smiled inwardly. The competition was shaping up to be exciting.
It wasn’t just Minjoon. Every head chef tasting this beet macaron and mackerel pâté was deeply surprised. They knew Deborah’s cooking well and her limits in innovation.
Yet here, they found no limits.
Deborah had changed. She’d abandoned the stubbornness that once confined her. She gave up on clinging to her own way of cooking and taste expression.
Chefs understood better than anyone how hard it was to relinquish stubbornness. They were astonished: she’d grown so much, so quickly, since they remembered her as childish and obstinate.
But Deborah’s evolution wasn’t only in this amuse-bouche. The next dish arrived: artichoke balut, walnut foam, and walnut powder—a dish clearly showing her new style. Simple, yet showcasing the best of what she wanted to express.