Gigi, an aromantic bi, doesn't know what she wants most - a husband, a lover, or her own restaurant. She has just lost her prestigious chef position and kicked out her latest fling, who threatens revenge. With her meagre savings, all three possibili...
As I reread the description of Freeny's dish, I jotted down what I'd need – fourteen jumbo prawns, a butternut squash and a tub of mascarpone. Some heavy cream in case I need to adjust it. Still have a piece of truffle and some pine nuts. And the sage is begging to be picked. What else? The ravioli. Need double-zero for them – have I enough?
I went to the pantry and lifted the lid of the flour bin to find the bag of Anita's nearly empty. Thought so. Onto the list. What else?
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Nothing came to mind, so I opened the balcony door and stepped out to check the temperature for my foraging trip. I inhaled the refreshing autumn air and sighed it out, enjoying the view that never tires me. So fortunate I bought when I did. Never be able to afford it now. Hah! Of course not – Gigi, the unemployed sous chef.
But even if I get an exec position and its salary, the banks would laugh at my attempt to buy this now. Who would have thought the value would double – well, nearly double – in five years. Marcy says it'll appraise at over a million in the next tax assessment.
Thoughts of Marcy warmed me as the cool day sent me back inside. While I looked in my closet for a jacket, I questioned its need. Do I have to cross the street? They have only Italian double-zero, so I have to go downstairs, anyway. And also for the OceanWise prawns. Screw the organic squash. SaveOn's regular is likely as organic as Whole Food's organic, and it'll save crossing the street.
How different this is to the rented basement in East Van. So little selection in the stores out there – so little fresh. Mostly packaged. A half-hour cycle to here, and now it's downstairs or across the street. Or a pleasant pedal along the Seawall to Granville Island. I laughed at the ease; then, I stopped.
What if I don't find a position that pays well? Will I lose this?
Oh, God!
Enough! I shook the thought from my mind, grabbed my debit card and a shopping bag and headed out.
A quarter-hour later, back in the kitchen, I saw my best approach was to do the squash first and try several variations. With the best one chosen and sufficient made, I turned to preparing the dough. Then looking at the Bacchus image again and comparing the ravioli to the size of the prawns, I figured eight by eight would work for the size I bought.
Then with them in the fridge, I picked some sage leaves from the balcony pots and played at crisping them in different olive oils to find the best match. With the choice made, I thought about how I'd do the prawns, deciding to hot-sauté in ghee then dress with dollops of truffle butter. Need to make some of each.
When all the prepping was done, I sat on the couch with my computer to browse the job listings. Again. Likely the same ones I'd seen this morning – and last night. Keeping the $25+ an hour, the Within 15 km and the Last 24 Hours, I clicked Search.
Ooh! Three new ones.
I selected the first and read: Minimum 10 years of kitchen experience with a minimum of 2 years executive chef experience. Yeah, as most want. Told Marcy I need more experience.
The other two had similar requirements, so I changed the pay to $20+ and entered the new search. The list expanded to five, and I scanned the two additional ones. One wanted more experience than I had, but the other called for five years – minimum of two as sous chef. That's me. But does it pay enough?
I looked for details in the listing but found none. Fifty-hour weeks at twenty would put it over fifty K a year. Enough if they allow me the hours. Likely would. Often did sixty or more at Cardinal's.
Having never heard of Hot Potato, I clicked on Apply on Company Site, and an email address appeared. A Gmail one. No site? I Googled hot potato restaurant vancouver, getting a list of the city's seven best restaurants for baked potatoes. Below that was a link to a Chef Gordon Ramsay Kitchen Nightmares episode at Hot Potato Cafe in Philadelphia. Scrolling down and clicking to the next page, I found no Hot Potato in Vancouver. Strange.
I phoned Marcy to ask if she'd heard about it, receiving her sorry, in a meeting message.
After staring at my phone for a while, I shrugged. What's to lose? I went back to the job listing and clicked the email link, pasted my standard cover letter, attached my resume and clicked Send. Likely another no response, but it'll show Employment Insurance that I'm still trying.
Not long after I had opened Wattpad to continue reading, my email pinged, so I tabbed to it to see a reply from hotpotato123@gmail.
Hello, Ms Gallini; We are impressed with your resumé. When are you available for an interview? Duncan McSweeny, Chain Manager
Wow! Finally! I air-pumped my fist.
Then I winced. Who are they?
Chain Manager? Another chain. Never heard of them – nor has Google. Could be an online stalker with a clever ruse. Careful here, Gigi.
I composed and sent a quick reply:
Hello, Mr McSweeny; Thank you for your fast response. Not familiar with Hot Potato. Could you please tell me about it? GG
Barely had I gotten back into the story when my email pinged again.
Hello, Ms Gallini; It was just acquired in a corporate takeover. You'd know it as Plimpton's, but as part of the deal, the previous owner stipulated that the name be changed, so it's no longer associated with their family. Some of the staff left before the deal was announced, thus our need to hire. Duncan
I replied:
Where is the interview?
Within half a minute, a response arrived.
Our Olympic Village branch, 2nd and Crowe.
Oh, wow! So close. I sent:
I can be there in a quarter-hour.
Almost immediately, he replied:
Great! See you then.
I air-pumped my fist again.
Several times.
Then I stopped. Oh, God! What have I done?
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Points to consider in this chapter:
Does Gigi appear to be a talented chef?
Do you see that she's insecure?
If you enjoyed this chapter, please click the star to let me and Wattpad know.
