Filer -8

"Tea is good, but I wanted to drink even more from it!" Dara complained to her cousin.

"Well, my dear, whoever quenches thirst with tea, you need to drink mineral water," Shir Ali was surprised.

"So, order me water, and drink tea yourself, you know, my friend Fang, he is from Chengdu, says that adding sugar to tea spoils the taste of the drink!" Dara said impatiently tapping his fingers on the table.

"Well, he is right, but sometimes a tired person needs sugar in order for his brain to work, or if a person is tired, sugar gives strength to overcome this condition," Shir Ali pointedly pointed out. He studied culinary DAO, so he owned the secrets of healing culinary.

"Well, drive the water, I can't take anything ..."

Shir Ali got up and went to order water, and Dara looked through the glass teapot at the restaurant's interior.

"But the restaurant is decorated in calmer colors, there is no such foppishness, they do not boast of their wealth. Yes, and the columns are beautiful, with bizarre patterns. They are like traders in ancient times, everyone wants to show their status. Previously, they boasted carved, wooden ceilings and now gilded mirrors and carved patterns. "

"That you are talking to yourself! This is a bad sign!" Shir Ali joked.

He just brought a 1-liter bottle with a glass of mineral water.

But Dara didn't really trust the cleanliness of the glass, so he simply unscrewed the lid and gulped water from the neck of the bottle in one gulp. In one fell swoop 1 liter of water.

"Well, you give brother! You were not told that you need to drink water, you should take it in shallow sips and not while standing, as you just demonstrated. It's embarrassing for you to go to decent places," Shir Ali scolded him.

"Do you call these wretched restaurants a decent place? A sophisticated audience is not going here, and we cannot go to such places!" evil said, Dara.

"Why"? exclaimed his cousin in surprise.

"Because the elite, rich people, influential people gather there. You can go to such a restaurant once a year. If you go often 2-3 times a year, you will have problems!" said Dara softly.

"Why"? surprised again, naive Shir Ali.

"Why ?! Because the elite gathers there, they do not tolerate people from the street in their company. And besides, there one serving will cost you at least 10,000,000 blackbucks. With your salary of 2,600,000 blackbucks, this will be for you I can't afford it. And although I myself am making a decent profit, I will never allow myself to spend money so thoughtlessly on some food! "

"Ahh, now I see!" Shir Ali held out in a bored voice.

40 minutes passed, the waiter brought them on large white, porcelain plates - a steak from the chef. On a plate lay a piece cut off from a bonfile, the so-called best part of beef. He was about the size of a puck that is played in ice hockey. The piece of meat in front of Dara was dark brown. With a pleasant smell. But the chef seems to be in a hurry. Since the meat was grilled too much. Leaving the line of coals on the meat, they were black.

And the sauce was too fast, it interrupted the aroma of meat. There were many spices. Dara himself cooked food, although he was an amateur. He knew that there should not be many spices, they should only emphasize the taste and not interrupt it.

Garnish. This is a separate song, that is, a separate conversation. It was served on rectangular plates. Grilled vegetables. And here the chef was in a hurry too. Vegetables were sliced ​​style - medallions. Eggplant, zucchini, bell peppers, onions, garlic, cauliflower, all had a dark brown color with black stripes from the grill.

It was clearly visible visually that the vegetables were very overcooked. They were coated with soy sauce butter. On this charred landscape of vegetables, only small corn stood out in golden color.

Dara, looked up from his food and looked at a plate of Shir Ali.

There have been dramatic changes.

Shir Ali's vegetables looked fresh, tasty, bright, not overcooked.

A piece of meat, a steak was golden in color, which shone like a piece of a gold bar. The aroma was meat, spices did not clog the taste of meat.

"What it is"? asked Dara, bewildered.

"And, probably, they heard you scolding their tea and gave you everything burnt ..." Shir Ali began to giggle.

Dara, silently got up and headed for the exit. Shir Ali hastily caught up with him and set him at the table.

"Sorry, I just wanted to defuse the situation a bit, I'm sorry for my inappropriate humor!" tried again apologize to Shir Ali.

"You ... a piece of shit! You yourself invited me to eat! And now is this the attitude towards me? Are you my cousin? Or are you working half-time here? Why are you on their side, and not on my side?" Dara suddenly burst into flames.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I was just joking unsuccessfully." Shir Ali saw a fire in his eyes.

"Okay, okay, let's eat, but the chef is not a professional, he can't cook the same dishes, he gives in to his feelings, this speaks of his childishness!"

"Do you think I will come here again"? began to get hot Dara.

"You'll come! Wherever you go, the aroma shows that it's tasty, although it's burnt. The price-quality ratio is quite tolerable," Shir Ali commented on him.

"Well, let's try? Share fraternally!" Shir Ali deftly cut his steak in half and then also made with Dara steak.

He took part in the vegetables of the Dara to himself, and transferred part of his vegetables to him.

Now they had the same portions, partly burnt, and partly fried just right.