A Surprise ⇢ Callum Ilott

FIVE

Catherine looked at the plate and made sure the presentation of the dish was beautiful. She removed some last spots from the plate with a cloth and smashed on the service bell. She breathed deeply in and looked around; that was it for tonight. "Last main is served," she mentioned the kitchen team.

"Yes, chef."

She washed her hands and took a glass of water. Her eyes were scanning the kitchen; it, fortunately, looked organised and controlled. Catherine took a moment to process the long, impressive day.

"Chef, table four wants to see you."

Catherine stared to a random point in the kitchen. Her cheeks had a soft colour, she had worked hard today. She took a sip from the water and took a deep breath. Catherine loved her job, but she would be happy when she laid under the covers in her bed, just going to sleep. However, she had to wait for two more hours at least.

"Chef?" The waiter crossed the kitchen. "Catherine."

Catherine's eyes shot to the waiter, and she plastered a smile on her lips. "I'm sorry. Yes, how can I help you?" Did she zone out and ignore the waiter?

The waiter smiled. "Table four wants to speak to you," he shared. Catherine nodded and followed the waiter. "You completely zoned out, I was calling you four times."

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to be called chef," she apologised and walked through the hallway. "Table four, you said?" The waiter nodded. "Is it positive? Negative?"

"The family eats here a lot, and I have been told they are picky, but I can't fantom them. Sir Connor Bash is a culinair journalist, he works with people like Marco Pierre White and Gordon Ramsey. It happens he eats here in his spare time," the waiter replied. "Good luck, Catherine."

"Thank you," she said and walked away from the waiter to table four. Catherine's eyes scanned the area; the place was still filled with people, but many of them just finished their dessert. "Good evening," Catherine politely said when she arrived at table four. "I was asked to see you," she smiled.

The family looked at Catherine, a bit shocked to see the young woman. The father smiled. "Good evening," he began. "Yes, we have. Are you the chef of tonight?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is your name and how old are you?

Catherine bit on the inside of her lips; she couldn't put her finger on the situation whether he was positive or negative. "My name is Catherine Russell and I'm 22 years old, sir."

"22 years old? That is impressive, as I must say," the man said impressed. A twenty-two year old woman and already creating dishes like this... "Well, I have asked you to see us because I wanted to share my thoughts on the dishes."

Catherine's heartbeat started to rise; she couldn't see if the man was satisfied or not. She plastered a fake smile on her face, she needed to hide her nerves, it was unprofessional.

"The dishes you have served us, were phenomenal, with one in particular: the fried gnocchi. I have heard from your colleague this is your dish, and I must say: it highlights only one thing, and that is the genius within your hands," the man said.

Catherine took a deep breath, and the forced smile turned into a grateful smile. "Thank you." It felt like she was standing in front of Gordon Ramsey in Masterchef who just tasted her dish.

The man smiled. "This was such a clever dish, the intensity of flavour was right balanced and perfect."

"Thank you very much," she replied and gave him a nod. "That is a huge compliment."