Saturday, May 01, 2010

Preview of Chef's Secret

I had been looking forward to going to this fancy new steakhouse/seafood restaurant downtown with my so-called boyfriend. I was all dressed to the nines with my chocolate brown pointelle-knit peasant dress with my black hair up in a curly ponytail. I also wore my new black stilettos with black lace bows in the front. There were plenty of people sitting in the tables, nice classical music playing in the background. I could just smell the delicious food being cooked and everything. I ordered myself a glass of pinot noir while I waited on my boyfriend. I took a Chaser before drinking my wine. Suddenly, my cell phone vibrated and I went into the women's restroom to answer it.

My boyfriend had a verbal confrontation on why he couldn't meet me for our date tonight. He told me he had plans with his mother and then had the nerve to tell me things she said about me. We argued over the phone and next thing you know we break up. I returned to the table, looked over at the menu, and then cried as I drank my single glass of wine. Not only was I heartbroken, I also had a hunger headache. I looked into the menu and everything in it looked so tempting, yet it's so hard to think about what to order. Just as I was about to take my order, the waiter walked up to my table.

"Waiter, just take the other chair away. My boyfriend's not coming. We just had fight and now we broke up. I'm not sure if I want to eat. Just give me the check." I said as I paid for my glass of wine.

As the waiter picked up my check and cash, I gathered my purse and lace shawl as walked out with my head hurting and my heart broken.

I walked up to my car when the waiter had given me a note. It said:

"The chef cordially invites you to a private dinner party. Plenty of food and wine. Hope to see you there."

The chef's address along with the date and time were on the bottom of the note, which said 10 o'clock tonight. So I put the note in my purse as I got into my car. The night was still early because it was 7:30. I went back to my place, took an Advil for my hunger headache, and freshened up a bit. I've never been invited to a dinner party before, let alone a private dinner party. I thought to myself, This is going to be so exciting. A private dinner party with the chef from the restaurant.

I then took a shower, put my outfit back on, touched up my hair, sprayed on some perfume, gathered my things, and went into my car. I drove to the address which led me to an uptown condo. I went inside the place, knocked on the door, and there came a tall, white man who was half-naked with an apron on his frontal body. He also had medium blonde hair and blue eyes.

"I'm here for the private dinner party." I said.

"I'm so glad you came. My name's Oliver and I'm the main chef over at the restaurant. I knew about you when I saw how heartbroken you were when your boyfriend didn't show up." He said as he walked me to the living room.

There were candles and flowers on the dining room table. Soft jazz music was playing in the background courtesy of the stereo in the living room. He pulled up a chair for me and I sat myself down.

"My boyfriend's now my ex. We broke up tonight, but I don't wanna talk about him. I was so upset that I left the restaurant really hungry." I replied to him.

Oliver got out two wine glasses from the cupboard and poured some chilled white zinfadel in them. He then placed the glasses on to the table.

"I was thinking we can start with a few appetizers. We got some oysters on the half shell, jumbo shrimp cocktail, and a shrimp-and-spinach salad with citrus vinagrette." Oliver said as put the plates together.

He put the dishes and the food on to the table, placed the silverware accordingly, and placed the cloth napkin on my lap as he joined me at the table. He sat right next to me and proposed a toast.

"Here's to a great evening of great food with a great woman." Oliver as he looked at me with those sparkling blue eyes and perfect smile.

"Cheers." I said as we clinked our glasses together and began eating the appetizers.

As I began eating the oysters and the salad, I savored them even they were appetizers. I took my time, enjoying the food. Oliver and I then looked into each other's eyes as we ate.

"So what made you want to be a chef?" I asked Oliver.

"I love food and I love to cook. Plus, my mom's a cookbook collector and still is, yet she does love to cook as well. She also loves to entertain friends and family. When I was a teenager, my dad showed me how to use a grill. He was proud of me and so was my mom. They were even more proud when I graduated from The Culinary Institute. I love what I do." Oliver replied.

"I, too, love to cook. I do it often myself because my ex's idea of fine dining is anything you can get at a drive-thru or Applebee's. Plus, not only am I a member of a cookbook club, I also watch the Food Network, learn recipes from my mom, and shop at the local farmer's market." I said to him as I took a slow sip of my wine.

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