Chapter 16 - Chef Goushi, Head Chef of the Ophiuchi

“This eggplant was pureed, not minced!” I pull a dish from the serving counter. “Send this back to the kitchen. If it comes out again the same, I’ll be asking questions.”

“Understood!”

My staff learned quickly that the word “questions” usually means someone is getting the boot. My pay rates are high enough that I won’t suffer any fools in my restaurant. It’s named “the Ophiuchi” for a good reason. You can find the best food as well as exotic ingredients to suit any palate. Serpent handlers included.

Unfortunately, maintaining the level of professionalism and quality that I expect takes all my time. I rarely have a chance to cook except after hours. The exception is the training sessions that occur before we open in the morning. Those become staff meals, so everyone can experience first hand who is learning and who isn’t.

Regardless, at this time of night, my hands are full. I have to welcome important guests, inspect plates before they go out, and also manage any issues that arise. There are always issues, and tonight fits the norm.

“Chef Goushi! There is a request to use the private room.”

“How many guests?” That room sits twenty. It’s not to be used lightly.

“Only two, but it’s a special case.”

“Special case?”

“I wish I could explain. You’d better come see.”

This better not be like last night! I had to serve Princess Letta and the most arrogant elderly gentleman that I’d ever met. The worst part was trying not to stare at the ribbons in his beard! No, I take that back! The worst part was watching her “bumping” her chest against his arm! I thought it would never end!

I follow the head waiter to the front lobby. But, I don’t even need to step through the doorway to make my decision. Truck-chan’s chassis is pretty hard to miss. I’ve seen her in action before. I know both how large she is and how much destruction she can cause. “Open the private room! Do it now!”

“Understood!”

Admittedly, I’ve never seen her wearing a fine dress and expensive jewelry, but that doesn’t change the necessity. I owe her a personal debt. She rescued me from the legions! Plus, she’s practically royalty! Better, in fact!

“I’ll wait on them myself! Put the sous chef in charge of the kitchens. You’re in charge out here!”

“Understood!”

After he speeds away, I shuck my apron revealing the spotless suit underneath. As the master of the restaurant, I can perform any job. Over the years, I’ve served in every role even with my life on the line. In this case, I’ll take care of her every step of her stay - service, cooking, as well as dialogue.

Once I’ve checked over my appearance, I’m ready. I step forward into the lobby to greet my personal guests. “Welcome to the Ophiuchi. The name is legendary, but we don’t have snakes unless it’s on a plate. Allow me to escort you to your seats.”

“The private room?”

My eyes are focused on Truck-chan, but this question arises from a middle-aged man who is with her. He’s immaculately dressed and everything about him exudes wealth. Considering the company, he must be someone important, but I don’t recognize him.

“Of course! Please follow me.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a tight fit getting Truck-chan through some of the archways. Furthermore, we attract quite a bit of attention from my other guests. I’m not sure yet whether that bodes well, but the important thing is to pretend that I’m pleased and confident. Public opinions are easiest to control based on the facade that you display.

As we go, I motion several other servers to follow. I’ll need them to adjust the tables for our extra large guest. My own role in this is to delay our honored guest's impatience with the spectacle.

“Here we are.” I sweep my hand around the outer walls. “The whole room is yours for the night. The walls are soundproofed, and once my staff finishes setting the scene, the only person serving you tonight will be me. Will this room fit your needs?”

Truck-chan hardly moves, but her escort inspects the room slowly, then nods his approval. With that, the two of them move toward the center.

Normally, I would seat the woman first. There are extensive rules of etiquette regarding the exact steps and motions. Instead, given the strange situation, I pull her chair out and away, then bow deeply. Once she’s in place, I move out of her personal space.

Since I’ve guessed that her escort is a noble, I move next to assist him with his chair. But, he has moved ahead of me, and is already seated. Perhaps, he’s not a noble after all?

“I’ll be your dedicated server. Please allow me to start you off with something to drink. May I recommend a Chateau Mediocre? It’s incredibly rare. I would describe it best by saying it has a little bit of everything. And despite the name, the vintners were not meaty ogres.”

No reaction. Neither of them got my awesome pun? All right, no more dad jokes then.

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“Just water for both of us. Thank you.”

A noble that only drinks water? This is getting stranger and stranger!

“Just water, of course! Now, before I leave to get that, allow me to explain what is meant by having me as your dedicated server. I am also the owner and head chef here. You may order anything off of our menu, but for important guests such as yourself, I’m also willing to make anything that your hearts desire.”

Truck-chan remains silent. Instead the man responds, “Mmm… I can’t think of anything, so the menu is probably best to give me some ideas. I won’t need any special treatment. However, Truck-chan here has special preparation instructions.”

I look to Truck-chan and notice a written note has somehow been added to her arm appendage. This is new territory, but I snag it and retreat. “I’ll be back with your waters and your menus.”

Once I’m out of the room, I unfold the paper to examine the writing. It looks like a woman’s hand-writing, but pretty messy. Furthermore, the spelling itself is written in an accent. Who would do that? Did Truck-chan write this?

“Hello yer server-ness! As ye may be guessin’, Truck-chan’s a golem. She won’t be eatin’ or drinkin’ anythin’. But, ye can’t just be treatin’ her like a box! Her eyes and ears are workin’ just fine! She’s given’ ye choice of what ye’ll be servin’ her. Me best advice is choosin’ somethin’ that looks real spiff and sounds like yum! I’m thinkin’ somethin’ sizzly?”

“All right. Sounds simple enough. Hmm… what’s this written at the bottom?”

“P.S. : Ye can send anythin’ she doesn’t eat home with her and I’ll take care of it for ye! Oh, and I want another of yer cheesecakes like ye made fer that goblin.”

“Uh huh…” I can feel my temper rising.

By the time I’ve returned to the table with their waters, the two are engaged in some very odd light gossip. The gentleman asks a question, Truck-chan responds by blinking lights back at him, which he interprets by reading in a codebook. I wouldn’t think much of it, except the questions and responses are awfully suspicious.

“How do you spend a free day?”

“What qualities do you look for in a friend?”

“What sort of vacations do you like?”

“Someday, would you like to have children?”

As quick as I can, I get their orders and retreat from the room. With my back pressed against the wall, my ears are still echoing with what I’ve just heard.

Is this a … date? No wonder they wanted a private room! Unfortunately, if this rumor somehow gets out, they’ll blame me!

More importantly, just who is this upstart? A man his age should already be married! Is he cheating on his wife? Or is he leading Truck-chan on? Just what does he hope to accomplish? So many questions! I’m a chef! It’s none of my business!

Unless I make it my business? Part of learning to cook at my level is deciphering the innate chemistry of the ingredients that I use. In my skilled hands, even the water I serve him could be a deadly poison. But no! I set aside the temptation. I’m a chef! Not an assassin! If I’d wanted to kill someone, I had several opportunities with that demon lord, the Legate.

Running a restaurant has so many risks and temptations. Insolvency. Bad press. Rumors. Demands by demon lords at knife point. In all my years, this is the worst temptation I’ve ever faced! If I was accused of betraying the country’s hero I’d be forced to leave in disgrace. I can’t even imagine anywhere civilized that would accept me after that.

In other words, I must guard my guests’ secrets with my life! Luckily, my time working for the legions has taught me how to make much with very little. As far as I know, I’m the only person to ever find the special secret career “chef of legend.” It took years. First, I had to complete all the achievements without choosing any skills, then reach max level, and THEN follow that all with an absurdity of otherwise useless career choices.

I have no time to consider failure! Success is the only option!

Flying through the kitchen, I assemble the ingredients that I need. It only takes a glance and my staff leaps out of my way. In fact, several run forward to help with the secondary dishes. I don’t trust anybody, so I keep my eye on them. This meal must be absolutely perfect!

Luckily, neither of my guests has ordered anything too complicated. The gentleman’s dark meat chicken is rolled in my special blend of spices, then covered in oats to lock in the moisture. Normally, that would be baked slowly for an hour so it remains tender, but one of my side careers includes time manipulation. In less than a second, it’s done, steaming hot, ready for the basting sauce and a second round in the oven.

For Truck-chan, I choose the finest steak. I have a special cinnamon chocolate marinade just for the occasion. But it needs something more! But what?

Let’s see… since she can’t taste it, the visual presentation is key? I carve the meat into tiny star and hexagon wedges, then sear the surface on both sides, leaving the center rare. A collection of fresh vegetables and mushrooms fit into the gaps in the design. This adds color, but also heightens the sizzling from the water that these additions release into the oiled pan.

Both plates receive our signature bread, baked fresh all day long. A salad is added on the side, though once again I focus more on the presentation than the content.

I look over the result, but it still seems incomplete. It needs something special!

Oh! I snap my fingers as an idea comes to me. This leads me to a portable stove I have in the back, as well as a small plated collection of special ingredients.

Finally ready, I check the time. Five minutes? Not bad. Completely impossible for anyone else. It could have gone faster, but I just wasn’t ready for this kind of pressure. Ideas don’t just come from nowhere!

My assistants add the plates to my carrying platters, then I’m off.

As I reenter the dining room, I nearly drop it all. The gentleman has moved his chair to sit right beside Truck-chan. Luckily, his eyes are only for her. Otherwise he might have seen my surprise as I walked in. The focus of her eyes is more difficult to distinguish. I can only hope for the best.

“Here we are! I hope you didn’t wait too long?” I interrupt their reverie and the man looks up at me with annoyance. He must not realize that I had no choice but to announce myself. Otherwise, I might hear something not meant for my ears!

First, as the guest of honor, I place Truck-chan’s meal in front of her. “This dish is seared top-quality steak medallions with mushrooms and vegetables. The sauce is a house specialty, known only to myself. As you see, it is still blistering hot. Mind your fingers on the plate!”

Not that she has fingers. But, it’s the thought that counts!

The gentleman’s plate is delivered next. “Oat-breaded chicken thighs baked with special herbs and spices. The green layer you see underneath is crisped spinach. You’ll find that it imbues the breading on that side with a tender bitterness.”

Once the bread and salads are also laid out, I step back to see their reactions. This is my last chance to correct any problems before they fester.

Truck-chan is normally hard to read, but I can see that she is pleased. There is a tiny sparkle in her headlights. If that wasn’t enough, the yellow lights on both sides are switching back and forth in a playful fashion.

In contrast, the gentleman has hardly looked at his food. I can tell just by looking that he is too nervous to appreciate the flavors. I hope he at least remembers the experience fondly. More importantly, I hope he doesn’t choke from stress.

“Now then, how do you find your dishes?”

The gentleman gives me a snarky smile. “How do I find it? I look around for my plate and there it is!”

I suppose he’s not as nervous as he looks. Either that or he’s struggling to appear witty. Maybe my dad joke earlier belatedly found its mark?

“Hahaha! Indeed! Is anything amiss?”

“The only miss here is miss Truck-chan.”

“Hahaha! I’ll be just outside the door. Just call my name if you need anything.”

More importantly, I should escape before I strangle him for his stupid jokes! That’s MY specialty and I won’t let him take it!