Chefs Quotes

People aren't either wicked or noble. They're like chef's salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict.

Then they were served a small beeswax cup filled with flowers and crunchy bee pollen, followed by a presentation of a large shawarma, or at least what looked like a shawarma, adorned with roasted onions and rosemary, cut tableside. Pia explained that it was not made from lamb or chicken, as is traditional, but instead from celery root and truffles, before it was cooked on a spit for hours. One of the chefs used a large knife to slice off thin pieces of the "meat," plating it with greens, roasted apple, and red currants, before smothering the plate in a brown "jus." Cassie cut off a small bite and was surprised by how much it tasted like meat. It was earthy, salty, sweet, rich, and incredibly delicious. "Well, this is way better than the shawarma cart in my neighborhood," said Rebecca, practically licking her plate. "No kidding," agreed Ben, soaking up the jus with a fat slice of sourdough bread.

The next dish arrived: seaweed, scampi, and squid, sautéed in garlic and butter, served with a simple broth, followed by a modest bowl of tortellini topped with minced herbs. Before taking a bite, Cassie photographed the plate and examined it closely. "I've read about this dish," she said, suddenly remembering an entry in James's journal. "It's like Italian xiaolongbao. This is the chef's signature dish." "Well, let's give it a go." Cassie scooped up one of the glistening pieces of pasta in a gilded spoon, so that she could examine it at eye level. The pasta was so thin that it was almost sheer, barely containing the liquid inside. She put it into her mouth and pushed her tongue to the roof of her palate, releasing the warm and unctuous carbonara sauce in a quick explosion of cream and salty pork.