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As they were finishing his dinner, he said, “I’d like to get a part time job as a cook. There is a part time gig being offered at this place called Benny’s that I could work at a little bit. It would look really good for when I try to get into a culinary school.”
What he didn’t say was that the place was on the outskirts of the city near the forest, where rifts might start appearing. That would end the argument right then and there because of the danger.
His mother shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. You’re only thirteen, Matt. And you don’t need money.”
Aster also interjected. “No bwig browther. We play on the weekends!”
Matt rubbed the still white hair of his little sister and said, “Even if I get a job, that won’t change. And if I get a job as a chef, I can bring you all kinds of good food.”
Hearing that, Aster immediately changed her tune. “Bwig browther should get a job!”
His mother mock glared at him and his sister, which sent them into a giggling fit before turning to his father, looking for backup that she didn’t get.
“Tell him he’s too young, Blake.”
His father shook his head. “I think it’s a good idea, actually. Not the job part, but the experience part. He clearly has the passion and drive to be a great chef. Why don’t we let him try it out?”
That seemed to surprise his mother, and her face turned from a mock glare to a real one as she said, “Kids, go play in the living room.”
Aster giggled as she slipped out of her chair. “Daddy’s in trouble!”
As she pattered out of the room, Matt tried to stay. “I thin—”
“Matthew! Out. Now.”
Hearing the tone of warning in his mother’s voice, he went out and threw himself into the couch, where Aster then jumped on his legs, trying to get him to play.
Instead, he tried to listen in to his parents’ conversation, but one of them had turned on the water as they cleaned the dishes. That, combined with the clanking of the plates and utensils, made it impossible to hear what they were saying, but it turned out he didn’t need to.
After everything was clean, his parents called him into the kitchen, and he could see the defeated look on his mother’s face.
“Your Father and I have decided to allow you to take an apprenticeship with a reputable restaurant that isn’t a s**t hole at the edge of town.”
Those words seemed to be dragged out of his mother, and the glare she shot him told him she had looked up Benny’s.
His father seemed much more at ease as he said, “You will awaken in a year, so it’s not too early for a part time job, and we know someone. Do you remember your Mother’s coworker, Janet? Her father lives here and has a small restaurant. I think he once owned a restaurant on a higher Tier planet. We talked to them, and he’s willing to give you a shot as a part time helper on the weekends.”
Hearing that, Matt jumped up and hugged his parents before racing around the kitchen.
That weekend couldn’t come fast enough, and he eagerly awaited the next Saturday, when his parents woke him up and took the bus with him to the far side of town.
The restaurant was clearly new and called ‘Antonio’s’. Matt felt excitement as a short man opened the door and shook his parents’ hands before looking Matt up and down.
“They said you are thirteen? What kind of thirteen year old is that damn tall?”
Matt froze as he had no idea how to respond, but the man laughed and stuck out his hand. “Antonio, like the giant sign outside says. And you must be Matthew.”
Returning the handshake, Matt was surprised at how firm the man’s hand was. It was like his hand was made out of steel rather than flesh and blood. Matt also understood that if the man squeezed, his hand wouldn’t have survived, so he was glad he hadn’t tried to out squeeze the other man like some of his classmates liked to do.
Antonio led them back to the kitchen, where he threw Matt an apron and gave his parents and Aster a tour before politely yet firmly kicking them out.
Once they were alone, the man pulled a sack of potatoes out of a storage room and dropped them next to Matt.
“First, we start with cutting. Tonight, I’m serving roasted potatoes as a side to a tenderloin. That means we have more than a few potatoes to cook, and we need to prep them. Prep happens every morning before we cook. Do you understand?” Matt nodded, to which Antonio sighed. “Kid, do you want to be a home cook who whips things together for themselves and a few guests, or do you want to be a proper cook?”
Matt shook his head. “I want to be a chef. A real one. Own my own restaurant someday.”
Antonio nodded. “Then you need to understand. Most of this you would learn in culinary school or, like here, working for a professional. I’m old and laid back nowadays, but in a proper kitchen in a big city on a high Tier planet, you’d get tossed out on your ear for not responding ‘Yes, Chef’. It might sound weird and military, but a good kitchen is like a military unit. I’ve seen and worked in restaurants where the hands were forced to stand at parade rest when not actively working. I’m not that strict, but I do expect a level of discipline in anyone working for me, and especially from someone who wants to ‘make it’. Do you understand?”
Matt wasn’t sure he actually understood everything, but nodded and said, “Yes, chef.”
That earned him a wink, and Antonio started showing him how to cut the potatoes into cubes the right size, and what to do with the leftovers that would be turned into mashed potatoes for tomorrow’s dinner.
When Matt had a basic understanding of how to properly cube a potato, Antonio left Matt to practice while he started doing his own prep work. Matt had to stop and stare when he saw the man work. His hands were like something out of a movie as they blurred with his speed.
- Writer
