We were still in the kitchen and there was several tables, each with a stove, a pot, a pan, and some basic utensils. There were also baskets of ingredients, such as vegetables, fruits, grains, meat, cheese, eggs, herbs, and spices.
The chef led me to one of the tables, and he pointed at the basket.
"Here are your ingredients. You can use whatever you want, but you have to make a three-course meal: a soup, a main dish, and a dessert. You have one hour to finish. Do you understand?" He said, in a condescending tone.
I nodded, and I looked at the basket. There were many things I had seen before, and some that I had only heard of. I wondered how I was going to make something edible out of them.
The chef went to another table, and he smiled smugly.
"I'll be using the same ingredients as you, but I'll show you how a real chef cooks. You'll see the difference between your peasant food and my gourmet cuisine." He said, in a loud voice.
The chef also addressed the judges, who were sitting not too far observing us. There were three of them: a fat man, a thin man, and a woman. They were wearing robes and hats, and they had badges that said 'master chef'. They looked serious and stern, as if they were judging a matter of life and death.
"These are the judges, who will taste and evaluate our dishes. They are the best chefs in the kingdom, and they know everything about cooking. They will be fair and impartial, and they will decide who is the winner. Are you ready?" He said, in a confident tone.
I looked at the judges, and I didn't feel nervous. But they didn't look friendly or supportive. They looked like they had already made up their minds, and they were going to favor the chef.
The chef then looked at a large clock, which was hanging on the wall. It had a big hand and a small hand, and it made a ticking sound.
"It's time to start. Let the competition begin!" He said, and he clapped his hands.
The clock started to moveandd the chef and I began to cook, each in our own way.
I decided to make a simple soup, with carrots, onions, garlic, and parsley. I chopped the vegetables, and I put them in a pot with water, salt, and pepper. I let it boil, and I stirred it occasionally.
The chef made a complicated soup, with chicken, leeks, cream, and wine. He cut the chicken into pieces, and he fried them in a pan with butter. He sliced the leeks, and he added them to the pan. He poured some cream and wine but I saw no other sesoning than salt. That must be why their food lacks of taste.
It's not they did not have spices, there were salt, pepper, cumin and even chilli.
I decided to make a hearty main dish, with beef, potatoes, and cheese. I cut the beef into chunks, and I browned them in a pan with oil. I peeled and diced the potatoes, and I boiled them in another pot.
I grated some cheese, and I mixed it with eggs and milk. I layered the beef, potatoes, and cheese in a baking dish, and I put it in the oven and added some pepper,salt and chilli.
The chef made a delicate main dish, with fish, rice, and almonds. He filleted the fish, and he coated them with flour. He fried them in a pan with oil, and he flipped them carefully.
He cooked some rice in a pot with water, salt, and butter. He toasted some almonds in a skillet, and he chopped them finely. He sprinkled the almonds over the fish, and he drizzled some lemon juice.
I decided to make a sweet dessert,a pie with apples, honey, and cinnamon. I peeled and cored the apples, and I sliced them thinly. I arranged them in a pie dish, and I sprinkled some honey and cinnamon.
I rolled out some dough, and I covered the apples with it. I made some slits on the dough, and I brushed it with egg. I baked it in the oven, until it was golden and crisp.
The chef made a fancy dessert, with chocolate, cream, and strawberries. He melted some chocolate in a bowl over a pot of boiling water. He whipped some cream in another bowl, until it was stiff.
He sliced some strawberries, and he dipped them in the chocolate. He arranged them on a plate, and he piped some cream on top. He decorated them with some mint leaves.
The clock was ticking, and the time was running out. I checked my dishes, and I saw that they were done. I took them out of the oven, and I put them on a tray. I smelled them, and they smelled good.I didn't need to taste it I know it was perfect. I was satisfied with my work.
The chef also checked his dishes, and he saw that they were done. He took them out of the pan, and he put them on a tray. He smelled them, and they smelled good. He tasted them, and they tasted good.
"Prepare to lose, servant girl," said the chef, as he placed his dish on the judges' table.
"This is my dish," he said, proudly showing it to the judges. "It's a classic recipe from the royal court, and it's one of my specialties. I'm sure you'll love it."
The judges nodded, and they smiled. They looked impressed by the chef's dish, and they looked eager to taste it.
"It's always a pleasure to taste your food, Chef Sebastian," said one of the judges, picking up a knife and a fork. The other judges, the thin man and the woman, followed his example, and they cut some pieces . They put them in their mouths, and they chewed.
They made some noises of approval, and they nodded. They seemed to enjoy the chef's dish.
"This is delicious, Chef Sebastian," said the thin man.
"Thank you, judges," said the chef, bowing his head. He looked smug and confident, and he glanced at me.
I held my head high, and I walked to the judges' table. I placed my dish next to the chef's dish, and I showed it to the judges.
"This is my dish," I said, calmly showing it to the judges. "It's a simple recipe from my home, and it's one of my favorites. I hope you'll like it." It was actually a lie but I just wanted to have a background.
The judges looked at my dish, and they frowned. They looked doubtful by my dish, and they looked reluctant to taste it.
"How can it compare to the chef's dish? It looks plain and boring. It's not fit for a cooking competition, it's fit for a peasant's table."
The other judges nodded, and they agreed. They looked unimpressed by my dish, and they looked bored.
"Please, taste it," I said, politely urging them. "You might be surprised by what you find."
The judges sighed, and they shrugged. They decided to give my dish a chance, and they picked up some spoons. They scooped some pieces , and they put them in their mouths.
There was a little silence, before they started eating my dish again, much more quickly, as if someone was going to steal what was on their plates. They looked surprised and amazed.
"This is wonderful," said the woman, changing her tone. "The pie is light and crispy, and the filling is sweet and juicy. The cinnamon adds a nice touch of spice, and it enhances the flavor of the apples . The cream is soft and creamy, and it adds a nice contrast to the pie. You have done a great job, for a servant girl."
"Thank you, judges," I said, smiling. I looked happy and proud, and I glanced at the chef. I wanted to see his reaction.
He looked shocked and angry, and he couldn't believe what he saw. He saw them enjoying my dish, and he saw them forgetting his dish.
"So, you can see I've won," I said, with a smirk. I had won the competition, and I had proved myself.
He looked at me, and he said, in a bitter tone.
"You may have won this time, but you are still a servant. You will never be a chef, and you will never be respected. " He said.
He turned to one of my dishes and grabbed it with one hand as if he was going to throw it away but a man appeared.
His blond hair was short and neat, and it contrasted with his tan skin. His eyes were bright blue and clear, and they sparkled with intelligence and charm. He was rather tall, and he had a slender but muscular build.
He was really well dressed, and he wore a navy suit and a white shirt. His suit was tailored and fitted, and it showed off his figure. His shirt was crisp and clean, and it matched his tie. He looked elegant and sophisticated, and he exuded confidence and style.
The man took the plate and tasted the contents.
"Who prepared this?" he asked.