a little bit of black with a little bit of pink

The hazards of cooking with kale , part 1

"Whose wedding is this again?" Sunmi asked as she delicately drizzled sauce onto the tray of tiny, perfect canapes, before sending the server on his way, white suit crisp and spotless as he pushed his shoulders back and waltzed out of the airy kitchen.

"An old friend from high school called in a favour for one of her prized employees," Jennie explained with a sigh, wiping her hands on her cloth hanging from her apron. "Half-price catering for their wedding gift."

Sunmi let out a low whistle as she stopped another server, beckoning them over for her to eye the miniature quiches, while Jennie leant against the counter, eyeing one of the kitchenhand's grating truffles over slivers of pork so thin that they were almost translucent.

"That's some wedding gift."

"Mm," Jennie hummed in disconcerting agreement, "although, I have to lose out on half of a paycheck and still put in the same amount of effort."

With a snort of laughter, her friend tossed a dirty cloth at Jennie, hitting her in the side of her face before it fell to drape itself over her shoulder. Plucking the offending cloth off her person, Jennie gave Sunmi a stern look, tired circles ringing her eyes.

"Oh please, we both know you don't do this for the money. If you wanted to be making the big bucks, you wouldn't have become a world-famous chef."

"Ah, but being world-famous does bring in the big bucks."

Nudging her with her elbow, Sunmi gave her a pointed look, "not as much as a military contract."

"Yeah, well, designing weapons wasn't creative enough for me, I guess," Jennie softly sighed, "I'll leave that to my brother. In the meantime, I'll be focusing on getting my next Michelin- hey! No, no, stop. You have to let it simmer first before you add the- you know what, I'll do it myself. Take five."

"Yes, chef," the confused kitchenhand stirring something sinister at the stove said as he backed away, uniform splattered and untidy.

Jennie bit back a sigh and forced herself to give him a grateful smile, warm and encouraging. She'd never seen the point in yelling until she was red in the face because someone had ruined the red wine jus, or the lamb shanks were slightly too tough. It didn't fix the problem. She just sighed and quietly griped to Sunmi about it and they fixed it themselves. Ordinarily, she'd make the young apprentice watch, but it was a wedding, and they were only just sending out the canapes. There were three more courses and palate cleansers to ensure went smoothly, all of her careful preparation the night before paying off.

Turning the heat down on the stove, she watched the blue flames die down and the thick sauce bubble, slowing down as she stirred it slowly. Adding lemon juice, she breathed in the fragrant smell and felt the raging heat wash over her, sticking her pristine uniform to her skin.

"Can you check on the tofu? Make sure they're caramelising it, not roasting. God, I don't know why I trust anyone else. Except you, of course. What would I even do without you?"

"Be stuck with these amateurs," Sunmi murmured before they both laughed and she squeezed Jennie's arm on her way to check on the tofu.

She'd been with Jennie from the very beginning of her culinary career. When Jennie had decided she wanted to be a chef, her parents had grumbled and scoffed but handed her the money to open her first restaurant, because if she was going to do something, she may as well do it properly. Sunmi had been a single mother to a squirming toddler, looking for work in anything, and had begged Jennie to hire her to wash dishes or peel carrots. Jennie suspected she would have scrubbed the floors on her hands and knees if it meant she could cover rent and feed her kid.