She fumbled her hands in the waiting room, having that sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach that spelt the doom awaiting her. They knew. She was so sure of it. Why, all of a sudden were the Head Chefs calling for a sensitivity test just when havoc had struck. Just when she has lost her sense of taste because of that dreadful bee.
It was unheard of. A chef losing her sense of taste. She would be kicked out immediately. But maybe they didn’t know, she thought. Maybe by a sheer freak of nature, she could pull this off. Maybe they wouldn’t notice. Several thoughts swirled in her head but she knew she'd never know till she saw them.
For Priscilla Morgan, life didn’t grant her the luxury of mistakes. From inception, her life was weaved in one direction. Cooking. Preparing tasty dishes and exquisite meals. She didn’t work her way to the most prestigious culinary school in the world as a way of pleasing anybody. It had been her dream and a certification from Questellar would settle her for life.
Priscilla walked daintily into the Test Room and immediately froze. In front of her were the Head Chefs of the school and then at the corner, with a malicious smirk etched on her face was Catalina. Her undisputed rival since she got into Questellar. What was she doing there? Priscilla thought. Could she have heard her when she lamented her dilemma to her Mom over the phone?
“Good day to you Miss Morgan.” One of the Chef’s voices jolted her from her reverie. “As much as we’d like to watch you look all flummoxed, a lot of us have far more productive things to do. So if you’re ready for your test, I suggest you make your way to the front of the table.”
Priscilla flushed in embarrassment. “Good day, Chefs. Glad to be here.”
They grinned at her. “I’m sure you are.” Things were certainly getting a lot creepier for Priscilla but nothing could have prepared her for what lay ahead as the Chefs opened the contents of the three porcelain bowls that had been placed strategically on a low table.
“I don’t understand,” Priscilla muttered.
“What’s not to understand, Miss Morgan?” Chef Dublin beamed. “We’ve placed in front of you three bowls of liquid. You taste each one and tell us what it is. For what use is a chef who can’t accurately discern different tastes?” The last part elicited a grin from all of them like Chef Dublin had just hinted at a private joke.
If there was any doubt in Priscilla’s mind as to whether these scheming Chefs knew of her current inability to taste, it had all been cleared. They knew and they made this insane test as a cover-up to kick her out like they had always wanted. In front of her were three bowls. Of water. They had placed water in front of her and asked her to taste it because they knew she’d never discern it in her condition.
“If you’re done staring, you may start now, Miss Morgan.” Chef Dublin finalized. Priscilla stared at the bowls in front of her. She had once seen a show like this when she was quite little. And like a spark, she knew what each bowl contained. Taking the first one hesitantly, she sipped and then swallowed the tasteless liquid. “Sugary water.” She pronounced. She heard a bewildered gasp from Catalina at the corner. She was on the right track.
With a burst of energy sweeping Priscilla at that outburst from Catalina, she picked up the next bowl eagerly and sipped. “Salty water.”
Catalina leapt to her feet. “That cannot be ma’am. I’m telling you she’s lost her sense of taste!”
“Be quiet, Catalina and let her finish.” Chef Cora, the only one who’d been silent the entire time, barked. Catalina quieted like a lamb. Priscilla triumphantly picked the last one and sipped. Dropping it with a hopeful flourish, she declared. “Ordinary water.”
She looked at the vengeful gaze of Catalina and began to smile.
“Can I go now?” Priscilla asked.
“Not so fast, Miss Morgan.” Head Chef Esquire snapped. With a smile on her face, she turned to Catalina. “You might be wondering how she’s right since I told you before you came in what the contents of each bowl were.” The Chef smiled serenely even as Priscilla’s heart began thundering in her chest. “But I made a last-minute decision and changed the contents.”
Turning to Priscilla, she said. “I’m sorry Miss Morgan but the three bowls before you all contain ordinary water. No taste whatsoever.”
Priscilla became quiet for a second and then the dam broke and she found herself on her knees with tears in her eyes. “Please Chefs, it’s only temporary. It was just a bee sting. I promise to regain my sense of taste before the Championships.”
“Miss Morgan pull yourself together at once. This is unbecoming of a lady.” Chef Dublin thundered. Priscilla stood up but turned hopeful eyes to Chef Cora. Chef Cora stared for a minute at her and then whispered to the rest of the crew who fumed and then quieted. Chef Esquire spoke.
“It is sacrilege and a complete disgrace to Questellar to have one of its chefs incapable of taste. We should kick you out Miss Morgan but luckily we've decided to show you a singular act of mercy.” Priscilla didn’t breathe, waiting for her to continue.
“You’ll make a three-course meal for us in three days. If you get it right with nothing out of place, only then shall you be allowed to remain here and participate in the Championships. But if a single ingredient is wrong, you’ll be kicked out without compensation. Are we clear?”
Priscilla walked out of the Test Room with a heavy heart. The doctor said she’d regain her taste in a month. How was she to do this? But she thought of all the setbacks she’d faced in her culinary journey and immediately brightened. She was going to make it and prove her place in Questellar. Slowly, she began to plan.
Jhymi🖤
Image is mine.
