Ferdinand marveled at Mag's smooth actions in the kitchen.
Just like an artist spraying his paint, the colorful side ingredients leaped in the wok. A huge bunch of kebabs were flipping over the grill. The small earthenware pot was bubbling next to it. Soon, he removed a helping of braised chicken from the big pot at the side.
The one-man-kitchen had undertaken the different requirements and expectations of hundreds of customers.
However, even so, he seemed so relaxed and calm.
At first, Ferdinand thought Mag had opened the restaurant for fun, but it seemed like he was wrong now. Mag was being serious.
Among all the chefs he had met before, none of them could compare to him.
It was enjoyable to watch him cook.
Dish after dish were sent out from the kitchen to the customers' tables.
Ferdinand, who was sitting at the kitchen's entrance, smelled all kinds of aromas.
