Grand Opening
Excitement buzzed through Hell's Kitchen as the day finally arrived for its grand opening. The restaurant was sectioned into two distinct areas: the main dining area, where conventional dishes prepared mostly by Nyssa were served, and the VIP section, reserved for the more... exotic meals crafted by Victor.
As the first guests began to trickle in, Victor and Nyssa worked seamlessly in the kitchen, ensuring that each dish was prepared to perfection.
"Chef, we need another order of the roasted duck for table five," Nyssa called out, her voice cutting through the chaos of the kitchen.
"Right away, Nyssa," Victor replied, deftly maneuvering the sizzling pans with practiced ease.
But behind the scenes, a problem was brewing.
Lucien, donning his persona of Lucienne, found himself pulled in two directions as he juggled the responsibilities of both maitre'd and waiter for the VIP area.
"Lucienne, darling," one of the guests called out, snapping her fingers impatiently. "Where is our wine? We've been waiting ages."
Lucien gritted his teeth, plastering on a fake smile as he hurried to fulfill their request. "Right away, madam. My apologies for the delay."
Meanwhile, in the main dining area, Evelyn navigated the bustling hall with nervousness, barely keeping it together.
"Ma'am, this steak is overcooked!" a guest exclaimed, frowning at the charred meat on their plate.
Evelyn's heart sank as she inspected the steak, her face flushed with embarrassment. "My apologies, sir. I'll have another one prepared for you right away."
As the evening progressed, tensions mounted and tempers flared.
"Lucienne, where is our dessert?" a VIP guest demanded, tapping his foot impatiently.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir. I'll have it brought to your table immediately," Lucien replied, his voice strained with frustration.
In the midst of the chaos, Victor watched from the kitchen with evident frustration.
"We need to find a solution to this staffing issue," Victor muttered to himself, his brow furrowing in thought.
As the chaos in the kitchen continued to escalate, Victor caught Lucien's eye from across the room and motioned for him to come over.
"Lucien, it's time," Victor said in a low voice, his tone urgent.
Lucien's eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't be serious, Victor. We'll be in deep trouble if we get caught doing that."
Victor's expression remained determined. "Trust me, Lucien. We need to buy some time. Do it."
Lucien hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks, but ultimately nodded in resignation. "Fine. But if this goes south, it's on you."
With a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, Lucien straightened his posture and began to weave through the restaurant, his movements fluid and deliberate.
As he passed each table, Lucien's gaze met the patrons' eyes, his voice a soft murmur as he wove subtle suggestions into their minds. A sense of calm washed over the diners, their agitation dissipating as they sank back into their seats, content to wait a little longer for their meals.
Victor watched from the kitchen, a small smirk playing on his lips as he saw Lucien's hypnotic abilities in action. It was a risky move, but one that just might buy them the time they desperately needed to salvage the evening.
With determination in his eyes, Victor approached the magistone refrigerator, retrieving the key ingredients for his special creation: cowgirl butter and griffin eggs.
Nyssa's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched Victor handle the cowgirl butter. "You... milked a cowgirl for that butter?" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.
Victor shot her a quick glance, placing a finger to his lips. "Shh, Nyssa. Pay attention," he whispered back, his tone urgent.
Undeterred by Nyssa's shock, Victor embarked on the intricate process of preparing the chocolate souffle. As he worked, he described each step in detail, his words a mixture of instruction and reflection.
"First, we must carefully melt the cowgirl butter over a gentle heat," Victor began, his voice low and steady as he poured the golden liquid into a small saucepan.
Nyssa watched with rapt attention as Victor expertly melted the butter, his movements precise and deliberate. Despite her initial reservations, she found herself captivated by his skill and expertise.
"Next, we need to separate the griffin eggs, being careful to keep the yolks intact," Victor continued, cracking each egg with practiced ease and separating the yolks from the whites.
Nyssa marveled at Victor's dexterity as he deftly separated the eggs, his hands moving with practiced precision. With each step, she grew more impressed by his culinary prowess.
"Now, we must whisk the egg yolks with the melted butter until smooth and creamy," Victor instructed, his voice tinged with anticipation as he poured the mixture into a large mixing bowl.
As Victor worked, Nyssa watched in awe as the ingredients melded together, transforming into a silky smooth batter. Despite her earlier misgivings, she couldn't help but be drawn in by the magic of Victor's cooking.
"And finally, we gently fold the egg whites into the chocolate mixture, being careful not to deflate them," Victor explained, his tone filled with reverence as he carefully incorporated the fluffy whites into the batter.
With each fold of the spatula, Nyssa felt a sense of awe wash over her as she watched the souffle batter take shape before her eyes. In that moment, she realized that cooking was more than just following a recipe—it was an art form, and Victor was a master of his craft.
"And now, we add a sprinkle of sugar to sweeten the deal," Victor said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he dusted the souffles with a light coating of sugar.
With the finishing touches complete, Victor called over Lucien to take the souffles to the VIP area as a complimentary apology. "Lucien, these souffles are our way of apologizing for any inconvenience our guests may have experienced. Please deliver them with our compliments," Victor said, his voice firm but gracious.
Lucien nodded in understanding, a smirk playing on his lips as he accepted the souffles. "Consider it done, Chef," he replied, before disappearing into the bustling restaurant with the tray of delectable treats in hand.
After the hectic service, the team gathered around a table in the kitchen, exhaustion evident on their faces as they discussed the need for a new hire.
"We seriously need some extra hands around here," Nyssa remarked, her voice tinged with fatigue.
Evelyn nodded in agreement, a contemplative look on her face. "I might have someone in mind," she began tentatively. "But she's a bit... quirky."
Victor arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Quirky how?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Evelyn shrugged. "Just different. But she's dedicated and she's got potential," she explained, her uncertainty palpable.
Victor considered her suggestion before nodding. "Bring her in tomorrow. Let's see what she's got," he decided firmly.
As the conversation lightened, they swapped stories of mishaps during service.
"Who could forget the time when Lucien tripped and spilled soup all over Lord Crawford?" Nyssa teased, a playful grin on her lips.
Lucien rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, that was a mess," he admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
"Thank the gods he really liked "Lucienne" or else we'd be in trouble." Victor said dryly, doing air quotes with his fingers.
"Can't blame him for having exquisite taste," Lucien said smugly.
Victor chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "And what about when Evelyn mixed up the dessert orders for tables 13 and 7 and they started arguing between them?" he added, barely holding his laughter.
Evelyn groaned, shaking her head. "Let's not relive that disaster," she pleaded, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep into her cheeks.
And so they kept talking and eating together through the night. Despite the difficulties they had faced tonight, a sense of camaraderie and solidarity was starting to develop among them as they started to bond in this little, bizarre and somewhat morbid corner of the world that they could call their own.