Before sunrise the next morning, Stanley knocked on my door.
South City's seafood market was already alive. Narrow alleys twisted in every direction, packed with fishermen selling their fresh catch straight from the boats.
The salty scent of the ocean filled the air. Everywhere I looked, fish and shellfish were still wriggling with life.
For a food creator, this place was paradise.
"Ms. Wilson, today we're filming an old family recipe, Old-Fashioned Seafood Chowder. What shots should the camera focus on?"
Stanley stayed close beside me, quietly shielding me from the crowd as people brushed past.
I looked at the live crabs waving their claws inside a bucket. Even though I couldn't use my right hand, years of instinct took over immediately.
"The soul of seafood chowder is freshness an
