Yes Chef, No Chef - By Susan Willis Page 0,46
speed and was guilty of driving at a fast pace. He decided to look for a service café to stop and eat breakfast because his stomach was growling with hunger.
Spotting a sign for a service station ahead he indicated to leave the motorway at the next exit and after parking he strode towards the main doors. The newspapers in the forecourt all had headlines about the up and coming royal wedding of Prince William. Hmm, he thought woefully, there’s another Kate but as attractive as the future princess was, he knew she wasn’t a patch on his Kate.
He thought of his Kate’s small face and soft brown hair and those big gentle eyes that could lure a man into bed from a distance. On the Sunday when she’d left she’d had her slim legs tucked into knee-high boots with a short skirt and her ample full breasts straining against a black jumper. Christ, he thought with such an urge of longing to be with her that the arousal in his jeans took him completely by surprise.
“Beans or tomatoes?” a middle-aged woman asked him at the counter in the café.
“Sorry?” he asked dumbly.
She sighed impatiently. “Do you want beans or tomatoes on your breakfast?”
Trying to get his mind off Kate and the throbbing in his pants, he answered. “Tomatoes, please,” and then moved further down the line to the cash desk.
The tables looked none too clean and an unmistakable smell of old fat hung around in the room. This was obviously one of The Little Chef cafes that Heston Blumenthal had missed out, he mused sarcastically and carried the plate of greasy fried food to a table. But he was starving and ate quickly without much more thought of what he was actually putting into his mouth because he’d had a flash of inspiration while he stared at Prince William’s photograph.
When he’d first started at the restaurant he’d wanted to make changes to the menu but Jack had resisted because of his loyal clientele who loved the existing meals. It was time for him to put his mark on the place now and wondered if he could try some royal dishes on the Victorian theme but with up-to-date twists. He’d read at the weekend that Nigel Slater thought the hippest ingredient at the moment was nostalgia, therefore some old recipes might go down well. His mind raced with ideas and leaving the last of the congealed breakfast he strode back to his old Chevrolet and jammed his foot back down all the way to London and his beloved kitchen.
“Wow! You look like you’ve had a good day off?” Jessie said delightedly. “You’re looking so much better and much happier.”
He beamed his thanks at her while prowling around the kitchen, ideas and thoughts buzzing through his mind.
“Is everything sorted for lunch time?” he asked although he knew it was unnecessary because he had utmost faith in her. “Do you need a hand?”
Smiling coyly at him while she chopped spring onions to go into a bowl of cous-cous, she said, “Nah, we’re OK, we’ve got it all covered.”
Simon poked his head over the shelving on the island. “When are the new guys starting, chef?”
Tim walked around to him and clapped him on the back. “One is coming tomorrow and the other next week but don’t feel under pressure; if we get a rush of customers I’ll step in and help out.”
The freckles on Simon’s face seemed to be dancing today as he vigorously whisked a sauce to an inch of its life and grinned at Tim.
Once he was satisfied the day’s plans were in order and preparations for lunch time service were underway he took his place at the end of the long stainless steel island in the middle of the kitchen. It was a large kitchen kept scrupulously clean with beige non-slip floor tiles, and above the island hung every shape and size of pan he could wish for. Three of the four walls were lined with stainless steel cupboards, ovens, hobs, grills, and a large commercial pizza oven filled nearly the whole of the fourth wall. The island had stainless steel shelving above the work benches with row upon row of serving plates and dishes but within these shelves he could still see and talk with Simon and Jessie as they worked alongside or opposite to him. At the other end of the kitchen, the closest to the front of house dining area, was a long waist-high bench for plating food