Insomniac's Dream

Chapter 25

           

Small chapter, but Hey! Something better than nothing right?

.   .   .

We have eaten our lunch and now, Mr. Hassan is giving me the tour of his kitchen.

"And this is our pizza and bread oven." He shows me one of those big ovens which has actual fire burning inside of it and is used in pizza places for baking.

"Wow, it actually breathes fire." I say as I feel the heat from the fire in my face.

He laughes at my comment and pats my head, which was a lower to him because of me leaning ahead.

"Come right ahead kiddo."

"Yes, Sir."

"Sir, is someone over here making a thyme and butter fusion for lamb?" I ask him as I smell the melting butter and a hint of husk in it .

"Yes, darling. Do you cook?" He raises an eyebrow and motions me more in his kitchen. Mr Hasan's accent is a mix of American and British . . . his words are mostly British though.

"Yes, I love to cook." I grin at him.

"Come on, let us see is any good fusion is there." He gives me a warm smile and motions for me to move ahead.

We get to the station and that's when I see that I have reached my heaven. All around me, were different smells and dishes all getting perfected to an inch. I known this cooking is gourmet style cooking but I prefer my home style one over this.

"Jonathan! We have a guest with us! Show her your infusion if you can." He says to a chef in white with a rag on his shoulder, who looks kindly at us. Mr. Hasan then turns to me, "Ashley, I must tell you that Jonathan here, is my head chef and is French from origin. He is my best so far and everywhere I go, he goes." He states proudly and keeps his hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

"Nice to meet you Ashley." The chef states. Contrasting to Hasan's statement, he doesn't has any French accent. One would think that he has travelled too much to keep one accent but then Hasan has a light British accent in his voice. Jonathan looks like a man in his early thirties or late twenties. Having blonde hair and blue eyes make him a desired male. His body is lean and is well over to a 6'1. He looks more like an athlete than cook.

"Same here Sir."

"Ah don't call me Sir! If you are calling this old Grandpa here Sir, then I am to be called by name. After all I am younger compared to this person." He mocks his boss.

His boss!

I stare at him wide eyed, then at Mr. Hasan who has a blank face, then at the smiling face of Jonathan, then at Hasan, then at smiling Jonathan, again at Mr. Hasan who is now smiling.

What?

Didn't he just insult him . . . ?

"Sir?"

"Oh sorry Ashley, Jonathan is my adopted son that is why I am bearing him still." He smacks his head making him wince.

"Dad! Don't hit me!" He rubs his head.

I stare at shock at how easily they have turned boss-employ relationship into dad-son one.

"And yes I am only with you because you taught me how to cook such horrendous food that none takes me in now." He scoffs.

"Wait did you make that pasta I had right now?" I ask him.

"Yes, the red sauce one with."

"Then you are wrong, because that pasta was the most delicious I have ever tasted and that includes my pasta too."