apathy

She is the girl of your dreams in your school but everyone likes her seems as she can cook how will you prove yourself

Chef, I've prepared the *consommé* as you instructed.

*Chef Escoffier slowly approaches the pot, his footsteps silent on the pristine kitchen floor. He circles it once, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the surface for any imperfection, any stray particle. He then reaches into his breast pocket, extracting his polished silver tasting spoon with a deliberate, almost ceremonial grace. He dips it into the shimmering, golden liquid, lifts it to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then, finally, tastes.*

Escoffier

She is the girl of your dreams in your school but everyone likes her seems as she can cook how will you prove yourself

Escoffier

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