Chapter 639: As You Stack Up The Legos (2)
Chapter 639: As You Stack Up The Legos (2)
To be honest, Minjoon hadn’t expected to hire a level 9 patissier, aware of how rare that level truly was.
At level 9, Rosa was on par with Chef Rachel. Though he wasn’t sure exactly where she sat within level 9, even if she barely made the cutoff, she was still an extraordinary patissier.
She hasn’t reached perfection yet.
In other words, she met the criteria for baking level 10—the perfect level.
Considering the weight of that term, Minjoon couldn’t help but respect Rosa standing before him. At the same time, he wondered why someone so skilled, despite her handicap, was still job-hunting.
But he kept his curiosity in check. Rosa hadn’t shown her nearly perfect skills to potential employers yet. If he asked why she had left her previous bakery, she might fear prejudice. He didn’t want to worry her.
Though she wasn’t formally auditioned yet, Minjoon already considered her part of his kitchen staff—a prospective patissier of extraordinary level. Given her skill, he would pay her fairly. She deserved that.
“Rosa, can you show me how you make bread?”
“Oh, what did you say? Sorry, I didn’t see your lips.”
“I want to see you bake,” he smiled.
Since her baking level was confirmed on his system window, he had already decided to hire her deep down; losing unique talent like Rosa would be foolish.
Of course, a skill test was necessary—not just for Kaya’s sake but for Rosa’s. She deserved to understand why she was hired.
Rosa headed straight for the Lotus Bridge bakery.
Following her, Kaya whispered in Minjoon’s ear, “Are you sure about hiring her?”
Even though Rosa couldn’t hear well, Kaya didn’t want to speak loudly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean her hearing. The bakery isn’t as busy as the kitchen, but when making desserts and bread, not a second can be lost. Don’t you think her handicap is a problem?”
“Kaya,” Minjoon said with a smile. He understood her concerns. Rosa’s skill level was 9, but her hearing was an obstacle. No matter how skilled, she couldn’t work as if without disability.
“Trust me and wait. Let’s see her baking first before deciding.”
“Alright.”
Kaya admitted she was impatient. Since Rosa hadn’t begun work, worrying was premature.
But Kaya couldn’t help it. To be honest, the current patissier was far from good enough. He couldn’t innovate bread as Minjoon and Kaya did with recipes. He struggled to keep up.
Because of the patissier’s inadequacy, both Kaya and Minjoon had been stressed. The patissier was frustrated too. Negative online comments—mostly about bread—left him disheartened. Minjoon noticed this.
He watched Rosa. She had begun kneading dough, planning to ferment it for a day and bake bread the next day.
Ciabatta.
She planned to make ciabatta—a good choice. Depending on how she brought out its chewiness and flavour, Minjoon could clearly assess her skill.
She worked the dough on the cutting board, a smile of satisfaction on her face.
“So, how does it feel running a restaurant?” Rachel asked.
Minjoon met her after a long time. Rachel looked at him kindly, like a proud grandfather viewing a grown grandson. Feeling awkward, he replied, “I see now how different hands-on work is from practice.”
“Do you mean your work at Rose Island was practice?”
“A bit. I was surprised to realise that as a chef running a restaurant, what I thought was cooking was only a part of it.”
“You don’t have to call it ‘part’—that part itself is most important.”
“What I mean is that cooking isn’t everything.”
He keenly realised the importance of his kitchen staff and smiled slightly.
Seeing this, Rachel said, “Looks like you hired great chefs.”
“Yeah, all excellent. And I think I can hire a wonderful patissier too.”
“Really?”
“Someday I’ll be a great head chef like you. Lotus Bridge won’t look pale next to Rose Island.”
She smiled quietly at his bold words. If anyone less skilled had said it, she wouldn’t care. But knowing his dedication, she felt no arrogance, just confidence.
He added earnestly, “So don’t get ahead of me!”
She replied softly, “Climb to the top first—and wait for me there.”
Lotus Bridge was divided into four sections: appetizer, main dish, pasta, and molecular cuisine. One oddity was the presence of five demi-chefs. Four had been hired recently through interviews; the fifth was Gwen, already part of the team.
Having two demi-chefs per section wasn’t unusual, but assigning another demi-chef to a section already staffed was unnecessary.
So, who was the redundant demi-chef, and what was her role?
The answer was Gwen. Depending on the situation, she assisted Minjoon, Kaya, or Jill.
As Minjoon and Kaya mainly issued instructions rather than cooking themselves, Gwen worked most often with Jill. It was no surprise the two were close in the kitchen.
However, they were an unlikely pair. Jill had taken an elite culinary course since youth, while Gwen had endured many hardships to get where she was.
“Gwen, your cooking isn’t bad, but I don’t see any originality. It’s a pity you don’t have a diploma from a professional culinary school,” Jill said.
She didn’t intend to blame Gwen, merely remarked while chatting. Like Rachel, Minjoon and Kaya gave demi-chefs and sous chefs chances to create their own recipes. But even after Gwen created hers, she never brought it to Minjoon and Kaya, fearing rejection.
Her concern wasn’t unfounded. In Jill’s opinion, Gwen’s recipes weren’t strong enough to win approval, but quitting before trying was another matter.
“I think you’re too afraid of failure.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Gwen nodded.
Jill was right. Gwen feared failure. That was why she couldn’t accept being runner-up at the Grand Chef competition.
To be honest, she still couldn’t believe she worked at Lotus Bridge.
After all, she’d come second in Grand Chef—losing in the final. Should she feel like a winner or a loser?
Her biggest problem was that no one could answer that question for her. Even working here, she hadn’t found her path. Perhaps because many brilliant chefs surrounded her, her light—the faint one barely visible in darkness—was obscured by their brightness, like struggling to see a smartphone screen on a sunny day.
“Do you think you’re less competent than the other demi-chefs?”
“I don’t know. I’m unsure if I’m worse... but I know I’m not better.”
“That’s the problem.”
Jill sighed, studying her.