Chapter Text
It was a free day, a day to practice on things that were still iffy and needed working on.
Quite a few people dropped out of the class. This left Jack partnering with Santos. He didn’t mind it much; like minded people thought alike. They both knew they excelled in the culinary class, having done most of the lessons in less tries than the rest.
Today, there wasn’t a need to partner up.
Jack wanted to dive into Chinese. It was dumb that the school didn’t supply the ingredients. He had to bring his own stuff. Something about how the school was a community college, and federal funding was down again for another year. Robby scoffed and rolled his eyes when one of his students complained about spending their own money when they had to pay tuition for the class.
“Yeah, buddy, we all know that the school is already making bucks just from overcharging on textbooks,” Robby had said.
Class went on as usual.
Santos was playing around with her cuts. She could probably get a decent 8 or higher on Reddit’s Rate My Chives. Jack learned that that part of the internet was cutthroat, something even he didn’t want to get caught up in.
The key to juicy chicken breasts when cooking with them was having enough water when prepping the seasoning. Bless the food bloggers online for letting people into restaurant secrets because Jack wouldn’t have ever thought to add water to the chicken.
The prep went like this: You use your salt and sugar, then you add baking soda and water. The water is very important. The breasts are the leaned part of the whole chicken, so Jack learned that you need to add back the water that gets evaporated and cooked off when cooking. It was also how you’d get the meat tender, not chewy and dry.
Luckily for Jack, he had prepared the chicken the night before so it could develop flavor. Well, there wasn’t much flavor, just salt and sugar, and a pinch of MSG. Contrary to popular belief, it doesn’t kill to ingest some. A little goes a long way.
Cutting the broccoli head into smaller pieces, Jack worked his knife swiftly and efficiently. Into the boiling pot of water, he threw in a few pinches of sugar and salt along with some neutral oil. Just blanching the greens would leave it flavorless, so Jack added some seasoning. He then submerged the vegetables into the boiling water. For the one and a half servings Jack had prepped for, it should only take about five minutes tops to get the broccoli tender.
The student chef stood back and leaned against the counter as he watched everything cook. On another stove top, he had the rice going.
Jack didn’t need to look to his right, he knew it was Robby.
“Whatcha making?” the instructor asked casually. He gestured to the boiling broccoli.
Jack exhaled loudly and answered, “Just some chicken and broccoli. Been craving it, but I swear food is getting so expensive these days.”
Robby hummed in agreement. “Yep,” with the ‘P’ popping.
Jack poked at the greens with his fork. It was tender enough, al dente. He strained the water out and placed them to the side while he panfried the chicken. Once browned, everything was tossed together.
He used the side of his trusty knife to smack two cloves of unpeeled garlic. This trick saved Jack so much time from having to peel and cut bits off of garlic. One big smack with the heel of your hand, and it practically peels itself without effort.
Some oyster sauce, not too heavy or it’d be too salty, a dash of sesame oil, not too much or it’d be overwhelming, and a bit of sugar and black pepper.
Jack had already killed the heat for the rice before he started stirfrying. Letting the rice rest was key to fluffiness and doneness. The residual heat will continue to cook the grains of rice, and when it stops producing visible steam, it is ready.
Shuffling through the dish cabinets, there was one last bowl that wasn’t ridiculously big to serve the rice in. There was even a matching plate that went with it.
Jack rinsed the dishes off in hot water and popped them into the oven underneath the stovetop. About a minute or less would adequately warm them up.
The timer chimed, and the chef in training grabbed the bowl and plate. Jack arranged the chicken and broccoli in a way that made the plate look piled high with food. The bowl held a generous mound of rice, still steaming.
Jack brought it to the station where Robby was sitting. He was currently preparing for midterms.
“Ahem,” coughed Jack. “I finished.”
Robby turned 180 in his stool to face his student. “Sure, go for it.”
Jack did the usual, and Robby had his face in his hand, nodding along. When it came time to taste the dish, it was delicious. Appetizing taste-wise, but visually, it lacked something.
Robby explained to Jack that there needed to be more color to the dish. Perhaps some slices of carrots, maybe even some green onions for garnish too. There wasn’t much to complain about the taste, but when working for restaurants that were on the higher end, presentation meant more than just plating. People eat with their eyes first.
Jack took note of the notes.
“It’s not like I’m gonna be a Michelin chef,” he joked.
When he will make it again, it’ll be done properly. Well, he was sure Dennis wouldn’t mind his food being aesthetically pleasing visually before digging in, but Jack knew that it was just procedural stuff. Just like how he and Dana would work together to hold the ER together.
“What’s this?” Robby asked when Jack handed the man a container of food.
It was Friday, the last day of class before finals week after. Jack came to the teachers’ office to have his instructor taste test something for him.
The student wrung his index fingers together out of nervousness.
“It’s beef and broccoli, chef,” answered Jack. “I just wanted to know if there needed to be any improvements.”
Robby popped open the lid, the smell from the dark garlic sauce wafted into his face. Already, his mouth was watering. He noticed that there was a pair of chopsticks. He dug right in awkwardly. You’d think that being a chef for all these years would have him learn how to hold the utensils properly, but no. Robby could to a certain extent. If you told him to hold it, he could do just that, hold. To tell him to pick something up with it, that required a 4D chess game mapped out to the Nth move in order for him to hold something with the sticks.
Jack tried hard no to be endeared by the chef’s clumsiness but failed to suppress his smile.
“Pretty fuckin’ good,” complimented Robby. “Could use less of the sodium, but overall very good as I said.”
Robby looked up into Jack’s eyes and caught the man staring at him. He raised a brow.
“Something on my face, Abbot?” he asked lightly, not really expecting an answer.
Jack snapped back into reality.
“Ah, I just-”
Something loud sounded from the back of the kitchen, allerting everyone to look over.
It was a student that was doing their dishes in the three compartment sink. The sudds made the plate they were washing slip out of his hands.
“Sorry,” the student mumbled.
Jack felt his shoulders sang with relief. Whatever he was about to say to Robby had a lot of tension built up in his body like a coiled spring ready to unload.
He grabbed the food he presented and walked back to his station, paying no attention to the lingering eyes of Robby trained at his back.