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Carne
If Sanji had to choose one cook to be his uncle, it would be Carne. Patty was a close call, but no one treated him like Carne did. He taught him how to properly smoke after Zeff had angrily stormed off after learning that Sanji had stolen a cigarette to try. Carne was there with Zeff when he learned about the birds and the bees (and later the bees and the bees). He told Sanji about what it was like to be a pirate, specifically a pirate chef, and the dangers that came with it. Carne’s speciality was teppanyaki and he taught Sanji a lot about it and time management in the kitchen. When Sanji learned about the Nasugasira, he couldn't help but smile on the inside because he knew that this was Carne’s way of saying “we haven’t forgotten about you, and we are proud that you are ours.”
C.C.
One of the cooks was a tall man with a defined jaw and even more defined cheekbones. His skin was the same color as the organic cocoa powder they kept in the pantry for baking. They called him CC for the tattoo on his face. On a dark night with lots of alcohol involved, he admitted that he got it to remind himself of his wife, who had died in a fire. She had always loved his cooking, he said. Sanji thought it was a bit weird for him to have the tattoo on his face, and CC laughed and agreed, but said “I love that you guys call me CC though. It’s what makes me me, right? Just like you and that swirly eyebrow of yours.” Sanji pondered on that for a long, long time.
Liam
If Sanji had to boil Liam down to one word it would be lanky. His face was kinda shaped like a pear. Despite being in his early 30s, he always insisted he was too young for a relationship. A sixteen-year old Sanji thought he was a hypocrite when he pushed Sanji and anyone Sanji’s age together and insisted they go out on a date, but later found out that Liam suffered from self-consciousness and “hatred of his own body,” as he had called it. He always wore undershirts and was nervous to eat a lot. Liam was also wicked accurate with a flintlock. A seventeen-year old Sanji watched as he left with a woman, only to come back with a bruised eye. The newspaper told the story of a dead woman in a hotel and if anyone had information they should come forward. No one ever did and Sanji tried not to think about it, in the name of Liam’s pride.
Mustard
The other chefs called Mustard ‘Rat Mustache’ for his shitty facial hair, but Sanji called him ‘Mustard’ for the man’s ability to make insanely flavorful sauces from scratch and the first one he test-tasted was mustard. He always had a saucepan or five at his station and was constantly experimenting with new flavors. Mustard didn’t just experiment as a cook in food either. He worked on drugs with names Sanji couldn't remember for the life of him. When Sanji turned eighteen, he was offered a small bag, but he turned it down. Despite that, Mustard was friendly and everyone liked him enough to stay. He was professional and never dragged the Baratie into any of his side business, but one time came back with a cut that bled all over the wooden boards of the dining room. Mustard stood there, bleeding, put a hand on Sanji’s shoulder and said, “Kid, the world is not kind to people with dreams.”
Osip
There was bound to be at least a couple of chefs that Sanji didn’t get along with and Osip was definitely on that list. Osip found every opportunity to point out something Sanji was doing wrong. He reminded Sanji of caramel, both because of the color of his skin and the way people seemed to either really like him or really hate him. There was one time he crossed the line and called Sanji a son of a bitch, to which Sanji got mad, split a cutting board with how hard he stabbed his knife down, and told him to take that back. Osip didn’t, of course, and there was a brawl between them in the kitchen until Zeff broke them up. “My mother wasn’t a bitch!” Sanji says. “Was?” Osip repeated, “Oh, Owner, I’m sorry for your loss then.” Sanji had to go upstairs while Zeff sighed and admitted any lass he had laid with had no product and that Sanji was an orphan.
Patty
Patty was the kind of chef that was hard on Sanji so he would learn. He was kind of like Zeff in that way, but wasn’t there for the more tender moments. There was one time when Sanji was young and he had burned himself. Patty was the first to get a medkit and make sure to run his hand under water before applying treatment. “Fire is dangerous,” he warned, “but we are chefs and we need to work with fire.” Sanji looked down at his wrist, where he had been burned. “Get back into the kitchen, I won’t tell Owner as long as you keep pace.” And for Sanji, who had been so worried the burn was going to get him kicked out of the kitchen, those words were the best possible thing to hear. He ran back towards the kitchen door, Patty right behind him.
Pavlo
One day, a very quiet chef entered the Baratie and asked to be hired. Zeff took him to the office, asked him a few questions, and agreed to hire him. Sanji was sick that day and was absent from the kitchen, but he heard from the rest of the staff that Pavlo hadn’t spoken more than two sentences the entire shift. His speciality was pastry baking, but he was skilled in other areas as well. When Sanji returned to the kitchen, he found out that Pavlo was oddly afraid of him. He would reach for a bottle by Pavlo’s workstation and the man would shy away. The other chefs caught on quickly, but after a staff birthday celebration night (aka an excuse to get drunk night), Pavlo drunkenly told Sanji that his dead son had large blue eyes just like his. Sanji got Pavlo to warm up to everybody after that. And if the man mindlessly acted like he was his son, Sanji didn’t worry about it.
Taro
Taro was one of the most multi-talented chefs the Baratie had ever received. He got along with everyone well and even gave Sanji some tips that made him a better chef. Taro was the closest in age to Sanji, even though that difference was five years, and they ended up being best friends. Everything went downhill when Taro left for a vacation for a couple days and came back simultaneously more confident in himself and more nervous around everyone. He pulled Sanji into a dark storage room and confessed he was not a he but a she . Sanji, young, confused, asked her how she planned on remaining at the Baratie as Zeff didn’t allow women in the kitchen. Taro clenched her fists, took the question as Sanji telling her to quit, and walked out. They didn’t meet again until a year later when Taro had a dress and heels and red lips and was a customer at the Baratie. Sanji smiled and kissed her hand, even though they both still had heavy hearts.
Vanilla
They never found out Vanilla’s real name, kind of like CC. But while CC answered when asked, Vanilla glued his lips together. He didn’t spill a single word about himself. His complexion was best described as caribbean tan and his head frankly looked like a keyhole. One instance saw Sanji getting kidnapped by a rival sea restaurant who knew he was the youngest and thus the best candidate for a ransom. They approached the restaurant in a small but sturdy boat, tied Sanji’s hands back with rope, and put a gun to his head. Before Zeff could make negotiations, Vanilla shot the man holding Sanji in the head, then continued for the rest of them. He did it all with a modified long gun with some kind of scope on the top. Sanji felt his knees go weak at the blood, not even his own, running down his back. Vanilla roped in the boat, wiped the blood away. The rivals weren’t heard from again.
Zeff
Sanji loved saying he had a father and for the name attached not to be Judge. He loved it so much, he let the word dad slip from his lips in front of the old chef more than once. Zeff never minded. He even adopted the name ‘little eggplant’ to call Sanji. None of the chefs knew how traumatized Sanji was from his childhood except for Zeff. The old man could probably figure out his origins if he looked hard enough, but he never did. He accepted that Sanji was from the north, that he was working on a cruise ship at a young age, that the All Blue was his ultimate goal. Zeff rubbed between his shoulder blades when he was nauseous, made sure he was fed at all the correct mealtimes, took him out to markets to buy essentials. He taught Sanji how to fight; how to defend himself and how to kick ass. He passed on pirate knowledge, knowing Sanji would be a pirate one day and made sure he was well prepared. Sanji couldn’t have asked for a better dad.