Chapter 636: Newlywed Chefs (10)
Chapter 636: Newlywed Chefs (10)
“Are you kidding me? The restaurant opens tomorrow, and you want to take those dishes off the menu now? Didn’t you say you wanted to keep them because our customers want them?”
“I know. June taught me how to run a business with dishes, and I was going to follow her example. But I realised that if I followed her, I could never be a better chef than June, even if I became a perfect chef and businessman. And I can’t be satisfied with merely being like her.”
Even if he wasn’t perfect now, he wanted to become a chef who would one day achieve his ideal.
Kaya sighed. She felt that since he’d talked with Anderson, he’d been overthinking. Now, one day before opening, he insisted on changing the menu.
The dilemma was her uncertainty about whether to stop him or support him. Had he mentioned this a week ago, she would have easily agreed, not just encouraged him to do whatever he wanted.
But tomorrow was opening day. It was almost impossible to develop and include new dishes to replace Six Meats and Jo Reggiano on such short notice. She knew he wasn’t foolish enough not to understand this. She couldn’t fathom why he was so stubborn.
“Let me promise you: I’ll bring the perfect recipe by tomorrow morning.”
“Are you sure you have to do this?”
“I just feel compelled to open a restaurant worthy of our reputation,” he said firmly. “I can’t end up looking like just another typical chef.”
She sighed, arms crossed.
Then she sighed again and warned, “Okay, by tomorrow.”
He smiled. “Okay.”
It was time for him to attempt the impossible.
Though he spoke confidently about delivering a new recipe by morning, he knew it was far from easy. Whether or not he succeeded, developing a replacement recipe overnight was reckless and nearly impossible. How could he replace Six Meats and Jo Reggiano so suddenly?
Jo Reggiano and Six Meats were the most extraordinary, perfect recipes he and Kaya had ever conceived. How could he replace them with something new overnight? It was impossible from the start.
Why? Minjoon asked himself.
There were too many constraints. First, he checked all the ingredients in the kitchen. He had some extras beyond the current menu, but not enough to make entirely new dishes. In other words, he had to use existing ingredients originally set aside for Jo Reggiano and Six Meats to create alternative recipes.
If he had an hour, things could be different. With more time, he could contact the food supplier bringing ingredients to Lotus Bridge. Thinking this through, he checked all recipes he’d conceived. Rather than inventing something new, he was more likely to succeed by combining dishes he’d prepared before.
He had one hour. A very short time, but from another perspective, not impossible. As a Grand Chef contestant, he had created dishes far beyond his skill level in just 30 minutes. If he could summon that ability again, he felt he might succeed.
One hour passed, and he was still stuck in thought. Progress was minimal.
That day, it rained in Los Angeles.
The rain fell so hard that every raindrop hitting the body sounded like pop, pop. Considering how little it normally rained in Los Angeles, this downpour could be called heavy, but people on the street walked barefoot or with hoods, acting as if nothing was amiss.
It wasn’t because they didn’t care—likely, more than half didn’t own umbrellas because they considered them unnecessary for the few rainy days a year.
Rachel gazed out the window for a moment, then quietly said, “Gosh, I thought you came alone, but you arrived with the rain all the way from New York.”
“Well, I have a lot of fans.”
“You must be here for the opening of Lotus Bridge, right?”
“Right. How could I stay away when my student is opening a restaurant for the first time?”
“What do you mean? My student is Minjoon. Who’s your student? Kaya? I don’t think either of them cooked with you.”
“Don’t be mean. Just as you taught Minjoon a lot, I taught him too,” June said sullenly.
Rachel glanced at her and sighed.
“You’re still upset with me.”
“Well, I don’t want to pretend I’m not.”
“I couldn’t give you special treatment. As much as I support your dreams, I must support others’ dreams too. That’s my duty as a teacher. Don’t you agree?”
“Well, I never expected ‘a teacher’s duty’ from you. I only asked for your favouritism. Of course, even if you indulged your favouritism, you might not favour me anyway.”
June knew she sounded childish now, but whenever she met Rachel, she spoke that way. Rachel liked her but had never been her favourite student. She knew Rachel had always favoured someone else.
Why? Was she lacking so much? June thought she’d worked hard, but why did Rachel still think she was lacking?
She began to feel a deep inferiority. Quietly, she took a deep breath, thoughts swirling.
Rachel said nothing. She wondered whether defending herself or making excuses was meaningful. She just wanted June to believe what she wanted and see what she wanted to see. Rachel’s words no longer mattered, provided they matched June’s expectations.
But Rachel did not lie.
“I’m sorry.”
So she apologised as usual. Rachel had done nothing wrong.
She did what she had to do. Yet June was hurt. It was ironic—both did their best, but one was hurt.
Rachel wanted to ask June what dream she was chasing these days.
She wanted to ask whether June’s sense of justice had destroyed her world and if she was dying rather than living. She wanted to ask what June wanted for herself. But the teacher had no right to ask—that was the student’s role.
When did we get off on the wrong foot? June wondered.
She still liked Rachel. To her chagrin, that was true. That she sought Rachel immediately upon arriving in Los Angeles was proof.
“A ship must have a captain.”
“Now you’re the captain of Rose Island.”
“Who calls someone under a four-year contract a captain? I can sail only that long—I can’t plan beyond it.”
“You can compete every four years and get another contract.”
“Yeah, begging for another four years every four years. Don’t you think I’m good enough? Just recognise me fully!”
June shouted sarcastically, then smiled.
She murmured to herself, “Is there any captain more miserable than me?”
Raindrops pattered heavily against the window, sounding like a collapsing castle, stones tumbling amidst a roar.
“If you win the competition, that’s it. Don’t you like that?”
“At first, yes. All I had to do was win. But if I must keep competing to keep the title, it’s not truly mine. No matter what, I should reclaim my original position. That’s my place. I want a permanent—not temporary—position.”
“You want to be king, not president, right?”
“Why can’t you let me be king?”
“The moment I crown you king, you rule over everyone instead of representing them,” Rachel said cautiously.
“You satisfy your greed by crushing others’ dreams.”
June couldn’t rebuke her—that was true. She was too greedy. Everyone deserved equal rights. It wasn’t fair to claim others’ rights just because she was better. Rachel was right; she was greedy.
Still, June went on, “I want it—even if it means crushing others’ dreams. That’s my dream and my greed. No matter how you judge me, it won’t go away.”