Post by Serori Yakedo-Satsumaimo on Aug 4, 2013 17:52:17 GMT -5
Another Day, Another Zeni.
Serori had grown accustomed to this new world, if accustomed is what you would call it. It was more of that she had simply accepted it. Whatever she'd gone through had obviously sent her through a hole in time and space, into an alternate dimension.* The Saiyans of Vegeta were...different, to say the least, and for the most part liked to be left to their own business. Unless, of course, their business is eating at a noodle restaurant, in which case they very loudly tell you exactly how you should be living your life and doing your job.
This go 'round, the noodle shop was a lot more busy. In Serori's past, when she had worked "here", it had always been slow, a place for people to come in and take a break from the hustle and bustle of city life. It was almost as if people on the outside couldn't actually see the building, and simply walked by it. The only way someone could find it would be bumping into the wrong door, and then spreading the knowledge of its existence by word of mouth.
Here, on the other hand, it was almost always packed full. During the lunch hour, there was even a line waiting outside of the building. With this many people, the three staff members were working harder than ants. Serori and Kabocha in the kitchens, Matcha in the front, serving and taking orders.
Whilst in the middle of chopping vegetables to be put in a particularly picky Udon, Serori thought to herself. 'If we're this busy...why don't we hire more people?' She put her thoughts into words.
"Chef Kabocha, as busy as the restaurant is, wouldn't it be wise to hire some more people? We could use the help in the kitchen, and Matcha really needs help up in the front." Without even hesistating, Serori moved her body sideways, sliding her hands into a pair of disposable gloves already set up next to her table. She began cleaning and de-seeding a pepper. She couldn't remember the name of it, or how hot it was. It's always better to take precautions. Rather the gloves be wasted than her hands be burned.
Chef Kabocha responded. "Girl, you have been working here for only three days. I do not pay you to think, I pay you to cook. Unless you would like to go out to the front and help Matcha yourself?" The chef himself was working on a spicy curry noodle dish. His expert hands sliced up onions, mashed and minced garlic. Like Serori, he was capable of working well with knives, hardly having to look down, staring straight through Serori's eyes as he spoke to her. In a fluid motion, he finished dicing some chicken, sliding it straight into the bowl, breaking eye contact momentarily to take a look at the next order.
Serori, having finished her dish, had begun on another one. She turned around to grab a pan of ramen noodles, and a strainer. Beside her table was a large, clean trash can, in which the water used to cook the noodles was poured, the noodles strained out. Some liquid was left, the rest would be reused until deemed unsavory. "Chef, I believe you misunderstand me. I am not complaining, as you can see that even with the two of us, we are well capable of taking care of the kitchen. I was merely observing that with Matcha needing help, it would take some stress off of us, were we to hire more wait staff AND kitchen staff."
Chef had four knives in his hands. Two betwixt the thumb and forefinger, two between his middle and ring fingers. It was a technique he had come up with and mastered himself, allowing him to chop tomatoes, celery, carrots, and potatoes, all at once (among other things, depending on what the dish called for). Upon his face was a look of ponderous concentration. Serori was convinced that he had two brains in his head, one for thinking, the other for controlling his hands to cook. "I don't know, girl. Perhaps I will think about it." He left it at that, continuing his chopping, sliding everything into a bowl to be mixed with chilis, and then sauteed briefly, before being dropped into chicken broth, with flat noodles.
Serori mentally returned to her own side of the kitchen, absorbing herself into the next dish, rice noodles with shrimp. She grabbed a blender, trying to remember. She began with chopping an onion. She took two stalks of lemon grass, slicing the white portion thinly, took the remaining ginger she hadn't used in the previous recipe (approximately two inches) peeled it and chopped it. She put all this into a blender, with a fourth a cup of water. She went back over to the table to get a half a cup of cilantro, which she would mince, two teaspoons of curry powder, and one teaspoon of five spice powder. She put all of these into the blender before touching the chile peppers. Serori grabbed some disposable gloves, and went back to the peppers. She moved them onto a seperate cutting board so she wouldn't get the juice on her later. She decided three would be enough, and deseeded them before putting them into the blender, then disposing of the gloves, and washing her hands. She hoped she remembered correctly on how to make it, or else she would have to go without it. It wouldn't be bad, just not as good.
Once the blender was finished, she grabbed a spoon, dipped it in, and tasted. It was perfect, just like she remembered. She smiled, and continued to fix the rest of the dish with a new found vigor. She poured the green curry paste into a sauce pan, and cooked it in two tablespoons of olive oil until she could smell it very well, and it was starting to stick to the pan. She added fourteen ounces of unsweetened coconut milk, the same amount of chicken broth, a fourth a cup of lemon juice, and, with some reluctance, two tablespoons of fish sauce. She didn't like the stuff, and it smelled nasty, but she knew without it, the dish wouldn't be right. She brought all of this to boiling, then reduced the heat.
While she let it simmer for about eight minutes, she began cooking the noodles. She took another pot, poured water into it, and, as an afterthought, threw in some salt. When it came to boiling, she put fourteen ounces of wide rice noodles into it, and cooked them for four minutes. Serori drained the noodles, rinsed them with cold water, and drained them again. She left the noodles in the pot, and went back to the sauce.
She grabbed about a pound of shrimp, peeled off the skin, and deveined them. Serori also took a sweet red pepper, and cut it into thin strips. She put both the shrimp and the pepper into the pan with the sauce, and added in a cup of fresh snow peas. She turned the heat up, and once it was boiling, she turned it back down. After letting it simmer for three minutes, she chopped up a fourth a cup of cilantro, and stirred it in. It was now ready to pour over the noodles. Serori scooped up the plate, setting down on the window for Matcha to deliver to the customer. Grabbing another order sheet, she set to again.
Sesame chicken with noodles. She started by cutting up some strips of chicken, which she placed on a side grill. Next, whilst the chicken was cooking, she decided to go ahead and prepare the coating. She grabbed a seperate bowl, and poured in a third cup of vinegar, a third cup of green onions, two tablespoons of honey, and one tablespoon of soy sauce. Serori thought it would also need some ginger, and she looked around the kitchen to find some. There was some on a table in the back, with other ingredients, and she grabbed some extra stuff to add into her dish.
She grated a tablespoon of ginger into the mixture, stirred it up, and tasted it. It wasn't quite right, and she wasn't sure what to do to fix it. Suddenly she saw a bottle of garlic chili sauce. That would more than likely do the trick. She put a teaspoon in, and tasted again. Better, but just a little more chili sauce. She put one more teaspoon. That was perfect.
The chicken had finished, so she placed the strips of chicken in the bowl, and coated the mixture over the meat. She let that sit to absorb some flavor, and grabbed a sauce pan for the noodles. She boiled them for about eight minutes, drained them, and put them in the wok. From here, she drizzled oil on them, did a quick toss, put the chicken and mixture in with the noodles, and tossed those as well. They were done and ready to be served.
This time she handed the dishes straight to Matcha, who was standing at the window.
"You guys are doing great, keep it up! The customers are sending down a lot of compliments. Also, just a heads up, I think the lunch rush is nearly done. Give about 30 minutes, and orders should start slowing down again."
Kabocha shouted without raising his head. "Right, boy, but we're still in lunch rush, and you're lollygaggin' around with your head through the window, so get back to work, the both of ya!"
*This is the way that she has perceived events up to this point, and does not necessarily mean that its what really happened.
Serori had grown accustomed to this new world, if accustomed is what you would call it. It was more of that she had simply accepted it. Whatever she'd gone through had obviously sent her through a hole in time and space, into an alternate dimension.* The Saiyans of Vegeta were...different, to say the least, and for the most part liked to be left to their own business. Unless, of course, their business is eating at a noodle restaurant, in which case they very loudly tell you exactly how you should be living your life and doing your job.
This go 'round, the noodle shop was a lot more busy. In Serori's past, when she had worked "here", it had always been slow, a place for people to come in and take a break from the hustle and bustle of city life. It was almost as if people on the outside couldn't actually see the building, and simply walked by it. The only way someone could find it would be bumping into the wrong door, and then spreading the knowledge of its existence by word of mouth.
Here, on the other hand, it was almost always packed full. During the lunch hour, there was even a line waiting outside of the building. With this many people, the three staff members were working harder than ants. Serori and Kabocha in the kitchens, Matcha in the front, serving and taking orders.
Whilst in the middle of chopping vegetables to be put in a particularly picky Udon, Serori thought to herself. 'If we're this busy...why don't we hire more people?' She put her thoughts into words.
"Chef Kabocha, as busy as the restaurant is, wouldn't it be wise to hire some more people? We could use the help in the kitchen, and Matcha really needs help up in the front." Without even hesistating, Serori moved her body sideways, sliding her hands into a pair of disposable gloves already set up next to her table. She began cleaning and de-seeding a pepper. She couldn't remember the name of it, or how hot it was. It's always better to take precautions. Rather the gloves be wasted than her hands be burned.
Chef Kabocha responded. "Girl, you have been working here for only three days. I do not pay you to think, I pay you to cook. Unless you would like to go out to the front and help Matcha yourself?" The chef himself was working on a spicy curry noodle dish. His expert hands sliced up onions, mashed and minced garlic. Like Serori, he was capable of working well with knives, hardly having to look down, staring straight through Serori's eyes as he spoke to her. In a fluid motion, he finished dicing some chicken, sliding it straight into the bowl, breaking eye contact momentarily to take a look at the next order.
Serori, having finished her dish, had begun on another one. She turned around to grab a pan of ramen noodles, and a strainer. Beside her table was a large, clean trash can, in which the water used to cook the noodles was poured, the noodles strained out. Some liquid was left, the rest would be reused until deemed unsavory. "Chef, I believe you misunderstand me. I am not complaining, as you can see that even with the two of us, we are well capable of taking care of the kitchen. I was merely observing that with Matcha needing help, it would take some stress off of us, were we to hire more wait staff AND kitchen staff."
Chef had four knives in his hands. Two betwixt the thumb and forefinger, two between his middle and ring fingers. It was a technique he had come up with and mastered himself, allowing him to chop tomatoes, celery, carrots, and potatoes, all at once (among other things, depending on what the dish called for). Upon his face was a look of ponderous concentration. Serori was convinced that he had two brains in his head, one for thinking, the other for controlling his hands to cook. "I don't know, girl. Perhaps I will think about it." He left it at that, continuing his chopping, sliding everything into a bowl to be mixed with chilis, and then sauteed briefly, before being dropped into chicken broth, with flat noodles.
Serori mentally returned to her own side of the kitchen, absorbing herself into the next dish, rice noodles with shrimp. She grabbed a blender, trying to remember. She began with chopping an onion. She took two stalks of lemon grass, slicing the white portion thinly, took the remaining ginger she hadn't used in the previous recipe (approximately two inches) peeled it and chopped it. She put all this into a blender, with a fourth a cup of water. She went back over to the table to get a half a cup of cilantro, which she would mince, two teaspoons of curry powder, and one teaspoon of five spice powder. She put all of these into the blender before touching the chile peppers. Serori grabbed some disposable gloves, and went back to the peppers. She moved them onto a seperate cutting board so she wouldn't get the juice on her later. She decided three would be enough, and deseeded them before putting them into the blender, then disposing of the gloves, and washing her hands. She hoped she remembered correctly on how to make it, or else she would have to go without it. It wouldn't be bad, just not as good.
Once the blender was finished, she grabbed a spoon, dipped it in, and tasted. It was perfect, just like she remembered. She smiled, and continued to fix the rest of the dish with a new found vigor. She poured the green curry paste into a sauce pan, and cooked it in two tablespoons of olive oil until she could smell it very well, and it was starting to stick to the pan. She added fourteen ounces of unsweetened coconut milk, the same amount of chicken broth, a fourth a cup of lemon juice, and, with some reluctance, two tablespoons of fish sauce. She didn't like the stuff, and it smelled nasty, but she knew without it, the dish wouldn't be right. She brought all of this to boiling, then reduced the heat.
While she let it simmer for about eight minutes, she began cooking the noodles. She took another pot, poured water into it, and, as an afterthought, threw in some salt. When it came to boiling, she put fourteen ounces of wide rice noodles into it, and cooked them for four minutes. Serori drained the noodles, rinsed them with cold water, and drained them again. She left the noodles in the pot, and went back to the sauce.
She grabbed about a pound of shrimp, peeled off the skin, and deveined them. Serori also took a sweet red pepper, and cut it into thin strips. She put both the shrimp and the pepper into the pan with the sauce, and added in a cup of fresh snow peas. She turned the heat up, and once it was boiling, she turned it back down. After letting it simmer for three minutes, she chopped up a fourth a cup of cilantro, and stirred it in. It was now ready to pour over the noodles. Serori scooped up the plate, setting down on the window for Matcha to deliver to the customer. Grabbing another order sheet, she set to again.
Sesame chicken with noodles. She started by cutting up some strips of chicken, which she placed on a side grill. Next, whilst the chicken was cooking, she decided to go ahead and prepare the coating. She grabbed a seperate bowl, and poured in a third cup of vinegar, a third cup of green onions, two tablespoons of honey, and one tablespoon of soy sauce. Serori thought it would also need some ginger, and she looked around the kitchen to find some. There was some on a table in the back, with other ingredients, and she grabbed some extra stuff to add into her dish.
She grated a tablespoon of ginger into the mixture, stirred it up, and tasted it. It wasn't quite right, and she wasn't sure what to do to fix it. Suddenly she saw a bottle of garlic chili sauce. That would more than likely do the trick. She put a teaspoon in, and tasted again. Better, but just a little more chili sauce. She put one more teaspoon. That was perfect.
The chicken had finished, so she placed the strips of chicken in the bowl, and coated the mixture over the meat. She let that sit to absorb some flavor, and grabbed a sauce pan for the noodles. She boiled them for about eight minutes, drained them, and put them in the wok. From here, she drizzled oil on them, did a quick toss, put the chicken and mixture in with the noodles, and tossed those as well. They were done and ready to be served.
This time she handed the dishes straight to Matcha, who was standing at the window.
"You guys are doing great, keep it up! The customers are sending down a lot of compliments. Also, just a heads up, I think the lunch rush is nearly done. Give about 30 minutes, and orders should start slowing down again."
Kabocha shouted without raising his head. "Right, boy, but we're still in lunch rush, and you're lollygaggin' around with your head through the window, so get back to work, the both of ya!"
*This is the way that she has perceived events up to this point, and does not necessarily mean that its what really happened.
