Quite brusque isn’t he…well, some women liked guys like that. And they were his main customer base. I didn’t really care.
I ignored the awkward looks from the other customers as I waited. The smell of the freshly baked bread started to waft over to the tables. Yes, so far so good. I loved the smell of freshly baked bread.
“Kept you waiting, huh?”
There is only one person who is allowed to say that. But then again, I’m pretty sure I said it at one point… More importantly, the food was here.
On the table was now a bowl of steaming, golden soup and freshly baked bread. And a salad. The drink was fruit water. A lemon slice and some kind of leaf floated in it. Fancy looking stuff.
He suddenly offered a kind smile. Imagine if that worked. Anyway, on to the food.
First, I tear off a piece of bread. The crust is still hot. It almost burns my fingertips as it opens and reveals its soft innards. The rich smell bursts through my nostrils. I put the torn piece into my mouth and chew, and with every bite, the natural flavor of the bread seems to increase and spread. Freshly baked bread really was the best.
Next, I brandish the spoon and face the bowl of soup. Its golden hue makes me think that it was filtered, but on closer inspection, chunks of meat lay at the bottom of the bowl. It was the kind of soup that tasted different once you stirred it. How fancy… First, I take a spoonful of the top layer and drink it without making any noise. I’m not sure why, but coming to places like this made me more aware of my manners. Was it the atmosphere or the food? Well, as for the taste of the soup. It was very good. The rich smell of the chicken broth spread in your mouth and reached your nose in a way that only chicken could do. If this was a cooking manga, my clothes would be bursting at the seams. I drank a few more times from the upper layer and savored it. I would stir it up later. It was time to use the salad as a palate cleanser.
Salad. It was just some vegetables thrown onto a plate. But sometimes there was depth in simplicity. The freshness of the vegetables, the combination with the dressing. The compatibility of the vegetables. Yes, very deep stuff. What is a salad? It was something with the power to make you consider it in philosophical terms. Well, I would leave such questions to food critics, I was just here to eat some tasty food. I grab my fork and stab it into the plate. There was a satisfying crunch, which was the proof of its freshness. It must be freshly washed as well because beautiful droplets could still be seen. Then I carry it to my mouth, careful to not spill the dressing. With every bite, the texture and fresh, green smell spreads, and the slightly sour dressing combines with the sweetness of the vegetables. There was a real danger of me eating the whole thing in seconds, so I quickly push the plate away.
Back to the soup. Drinking so much of the upper layer now left the lower layer quite visible. I thrust the spoon into it and stirred. Then the chunks of meat began to rise to the surface. Other little specks, like ground seeds, also danced and rose. Using ‘Jack of all Trades, Master of None’ to find the exact timing, I scoop up a spoonful. The soup with the chicken and seeds flows into my mouth. Ah, it did taste different now. What was once a clear, refined flavor had transformed into something robust and meaty. Well, women liked their meat too. I could see this being very popular. The well-cooked meat almost melted in your mouth, the seeds popped with every chew. Ahh, it was good. My clothes felt like they really would burst if I wasn’t careful.
“How is it?”
The good-looking guy rudely interrupted my reverie. I looked up irritability before realizing that it was him.
“That is good.”
He said with a smile. Damn…he was cool… A guy who was dedicated to cooking. He seemed overly blunt at first, but clearly had a delicate touch when it came to his craft. I could learn a thing or two from that.
□ □ □ □
Ahh, I finished it in no time. The bread, soup and salad were all good. Even the fruit water had a refreshing taste that matched the taste of the dishes. Everything supported the others. The best kind of menu.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Aye. Three silvers.”
“Thank you. Do come again.”
There was something childishly smug about the way he laughed. I couldn’t blame others for falling for him now. A good-looking guy who could cook. Great personality. What more could you want? I’d marry him.
I leave the restaurant and turn around. The sign reads Tree Stump Arbour. A good place. A hole in the wall that you might only find through wandering about. I swore that I would bring Daniela here next time, as I recommenced my stroll with a satisfied stomach.
I hate these food chapters.
Anyone else here a huge MGS fan?