Absinthe

Chapter 29 : How To Woo

"How is it?" I asked Robert as he took a spoonful of the soup that I had made in preparation for the upcoming challenge.

Robert closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. "I plead guilty, your honor!"

"Hey, stop joking around. This is serious. I'll be on janitorial duty if I fail."

"It's amazing. No, it's not amazing. This is seriously good."

"I'm regretting calling you for this. I should have contacted people with more refined tastes like Faye or Cassie."

I then remembered that Faye was still not talking to me. It's the longest fight we've had, and I didn't really know how to resolve it. Meanwhile, Cassie was still MIA. Even her family didn't know where she was!

"What's bothering you?" Robert, the ever-perceptive guy, asked. "Come on, you know you can talk to me."

"Chef Maxwell said we are to present him with a dish that will signify our chosen culinary specialization, which is what will define us and our approach in cooking. The problem is I don't really know what I am as a chef."

"You make great desserts! That means you're a pâtissier, right? Isn't that the kind of specialization you have?"

"No, it's not that," I answered dejectedly. I sat on the chair next to Robert and covered my face with my hands. "Yes, I'd like to be a pâtissier, but we're talking about a cuisine specialization—French, Indian, Chinese..."

"You're doing a lot of baking and a lot of sweets, so doesn't that fall under French cuisine?"

I looked up and saw confusion on Robert's face.

"You have a point. But the core aspect of French cuisine is the impeccable methods chefs use to convert various ingredients into food. I don't really think that's my core as a chef."

"Why'd you say so?"

"Because I'm having too much fun reinventing French desserts. I get a high from discovering ways on how to incorporate what I learned in class: all those chemicals found in the ingredients and techniques that are just not traditional."

"Molecular gastronomy?"

"Yeah, you could say that. But I just don't know which cuisine my style falls under!" I said, exasperation wearing me down.

Robert was quiet for a moment. Then, he started eating the main meal I made him, a medium-cooked filet mignon with raspberry sauce.

"Ugh," he said, a choking sound escaping his throat.

"What's wrong?" I asked, immediately reaching for a glass of water in case he needed it.

"What is this?" Robert said with difficulty as he took several more bites.

"You like it? It's an experimental raspberry sauce. I'm not sure if sweet sauces pair up well with a steak, but—"

"I get it now! I know what kind of chef you are!"

Huh? Did he mean my specialization? The cuisine that will signify who I am as a chef? The cuisine that will influence all of my cooking?

"Your specialization is Filipino cuisine!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you joking? Is Filipino cuisine even a thing?"

"Yes, it is! And it's your cooking style!"

I couldn't help but take that as a slight insult. I mean, I'm proud to be a Filipino, but there's nothing special about our food. We're just copycats of mostly Spanish cuisine and Chinese cuisine.