The Sweetest Dish

#8 Love's Stealthy Dance! Navigating the Shadows of Prohibition!

As the evening progressed, Sanji's culinary genius shone brighter than ever. His signature dishes left the diners in awe, and the kitchen buzzed with life as he masterfully orchestrated his team. Amidst this culinary ballet, Hana approached Leclair's table, her gracious smile lighting up the room.

"Mademoiselle Leclair," Hana began, extending a dessert menu towards her. "May I interest you in any of our exquisite desserts?"

Leclair glanced at the menu, her expression unreadable. "I've heard much about the talent of Baratie's chefs," she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Why don't you surprise me with something that's not on the menu? I'd like to see what they can create on the spot."

"Of course!" Hana replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'm certain our chefs will craft something truly extraordinary for you."

Rushing back into the kitchen, Hana relayed Leclair's request to the bustling cooks. "She wants something off-menu, something that showcases your creativity," she explained, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Off-menu?" Carne grumbled, rolling his eyes. "These critics always think they're so special."

Hana, undeterred by their reluctance, offered her own ideas. "Perhaps something with contrasting textures and flavors... A play on the classic chocolate lava cake, but with a twist? Maybe a fruit coulis or an infused cream to elevate it?"

The cooks exchanged skeptical glances, clearly not interested in her suggestions. But Sanji, who had been focused on plating a dish, looked up sharply. He saw the passion in her eyes and recognized the brilliance in her ideas.

"Hey! Listen to her!" he barked, slamming his hand down on the counter. "Hana knows what she's talking about. If she thinks that's a good idea, then that's what we're making."

The kitchen fell silent for a moment. Sanji's outburst had caught them off guard, but they knew better than to question his authority. With begrudging nods, they got to work on Hana's dessert, secretly hoping that it would be enough to impress the formidable food critic. Carne and Patty exchanged glances, their faces turning a shade of red that matched the ripe tomatoes on the cutting board. The tension in the kitchen was palpable, and Sanji's demanding tone had finally pushed them over the edge.

"Who does this shrimp think he is?" Carne muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.

"Tellin' us what to do like he owns the place," Patty grumbled, slamming down his spatula with enough force to send droplets of sauce flying across the counter.

"Hey, Sanji!" Carne barked, his voice rising above the clatter of pots and pans. "Since you're so keen on Hana's ideas, why don't you make the dessert yourself?"

"Fine! I will!" Sanji snapped, glaring at them both. He could feel his temper flaring, but the thought of impressing Hana and Leclair spurred him on.

As he began gathering ingredients for the dessert, Patty marched over to Sanji, getting right up in his face. "You think you're so high and mighty just because Zeff took you in and taught you how to cook, don't you?"

"Back off, Patty," Sanji growled, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand, but the other chef's words stung more than he cared to admit.

"Enough!" Hana shouted, stepping between the two hotheaded chefs. "This isn't helping anyone. We have a critic out there waiting for a dessert, and all you're doing is wasting time."

Her words fell on deaf ears as Sanji and Patty continued to glare at each other, their anger only growing. Just as it seemed like they were about to come to blows, a booming voice echoed through the kitchen.