Chapter Text
Shin knew it was time to find work again when her card declined at the supermarket. She hadn’t even bought anything extravagant in the past few months. She didn’t know how people lived their burnouts, if, to some, it was like a midlife crisis. To her, it had materialized as an all-consuming anxiety every time she picked up a knife, and therapy sessions twice a week. She had stopped therapy a while back, probably the fifth time the shrink had told her she had anger issues. For the anxiety, all she could do was take pills and cook for herself, like climbing back onto a horse as soon as it bucked you off.
So, whatever money she had set aside from working as a sous-chef in a two-star restaurant had run dry. Blame it on the rent for her expensive apartment and her taste for good food, which wasn’t cheap to come by either. She had spent the better part of six months doing absolutely nothing but the bare minimum to not feel like a sloth – work out, cook for herself, take motorcycle rides out of the city – but now it was time to actually get back to work.
She began by sending an email to her old restaurant. She took two anti-anxiety pills and spent an hour typing two lines. It felt like an eternity had passed when she finally sent out the email. By comparison, their answer came swiftly and was very short. To paraphrase: We already filled your position with someone who won’t break under the pressure. Good luck, loser! Morgan Elsbeth. With a sigh, Shin set out to search.
She supposed, having worked at a two-star restaurant, that it would award her some favors in the industry. Most she contacted, even for a position below the sous-chef, either flat out refused her or asked for a letter of recommendation. Shin knew Elsbeth would laugh in her face if she dared to ask for a letter of recommendation, so she gave up. She searched below her standards. She found positions for pizza makers and line cooks in family-owned restaurants, but looking at reviews of the place, most of them had a reputation for terrible food, terrible ownership, or both. She was this close to applying to a fast-food chain when she decided to call it quits for the day.
She thought the day couldn’t get any worse, until her front door opened and her father stepped in, holding a handful of plastic grocery bags.
“I heard your card declined so I thought I would drop by.”
Shin groaned, ready for the couch to swallow her. She bet it was her banker who had called him. They were friends. He had tattled on her when she had called him to ask for a quick transfer from one account to another.
“It’s fine.”
Baylan set the grocery bags on her kitchen counter and glanced at the recipe book open in a corner. Then, he joined her in the living room, standing beside the couch.
“If you need money, you can just ask me.”
Shin rolled her eyes.
“I can do it on my own. In fact, I’ve started looking for work again.”
Baylan frowned.
“They won’t take you back at Calodan?”
“Why would they? One day everything was fine and the next I didn’t show up.”
“Where have you applied, then?”
Shin sank a little deeper into the couch.
“I’ve got this, dad. You can go.”
Baylan looked at her with resignation.
“Alright. But call me if you need anything.”
He leaned to place a kiss on her head like she was five. He had started doing that again since the burnout, like he had realized she wasn’t a strong independent woman but a weak child who had scrapped a knee too hard when she’d fallen off her bike.
“Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
Baylan left and Shin let out another groan. She dragged herself off the couch to put away the groceries her father had brought. In one of the bags, she found he had also picked up her mail from her mailbox and brought it up. There was quite a bit of it, because Shin always forgot to check the mailbox. She set aside the important-looking letters from the ads. In the center of it all, she found a handmade flyer for a bar. It was just a few blocks away from her apartment, by the looks of it. Wren Stronghold. A Mandalorian themed bar. Shin wondered whether it had just open. She could use some alcohol.
She carried the flyer to her living room and looked up the place on her laptop. It seemed that, in fact, it had been there for a very long time. It had really good reviews. Then, Shin saw on their social media that they were looking for a cook to supervise the kitchen while the owner worked the bar.
She pursed her lips. The coincidence was too big. She didn’t believe in the Force or all that ‘universe works in mysterious ways’ idea, but this was too perfect to pass. She opened a new email and applied.
Much like every morning when Sabine unlocked the Wren Stronghold, she felt the lock jam and reminded herself that she needed to grease it. She wouldn’t. It had been a running joke between her and Ezra every day since she had taken over that today would be the day she greased the lock. Maybe she was waiting for the key to really get stuck, for it to break into the lock when she pulled it out, for the bill from the locksmith to be the final nail in the coffin of this place.
Wren Stronghold had been her favorite place to be when she was a kid, perhaps because it felt grown-up to hang out at a bar after school. Squared tables took over most of the room. The reproduction of the head of a mythosaure hung over the bar. The wooden countertop made a L to the left, the shelves behind heavy with bottles and Mandalorian helmets. Family pictures of her Mandalorian ancestors hung on the walls. A door at the end of the counter led to the kitchen.
Sabine turned on all the lights then headed into the office, tugged in a corner of the kitchen, no more than a closet with a desk and a chair. Today was a big day, she thought as she rummaged through the mountain of papers piled in a corner. She’d received an application for the position of cook and she was interviewing her that morning. She was very curious. The woman, Shin Hati, was a big deal. The youngest person to obtain the position of sous-chef at Calodan. Sabine had never even been anywhere near that restaurant.
She found the notebook she was looking for and a pen, then checked the time. Another twenty minutes before Shin arrived. She could make herself a quick sandwich breakfast. She went to rummage through the fridge, and pulled out slices of hamburger cheese, an egg, and some bacon. She turned on the griddle and set her bacon to fry. From the pantry, she pulled out two slices of bread. Once the bacon was sizzling, she cracked the egg on the griddle. Right before everything was ready to be assembled, she toasted her bread on the grill. She assembled everything, the bread, cheese, egg, bacon, cheese, and bread, then put it in a plate. She took a bite. It was rich, the bacon salty and crispy, the egg just tender, the cheese starting to melt. With a sigh of disappointment, she set the sandwich down on the plate. She was missing something; she just hadn’t figured out what yet.
“Hello?” a voice came from the front.
Sabine brushed her mouth with her hands, then her hands on her jeans. She left her sandwich aside and picked up her notebook. She didn’t know what to expect when she stepped out of the kitchen. Certainly not a woman her age, with shoulder-length hair. The bottom was dyed platinum blond but she hadn’t bothered dying them again, allowing her natural dark brown to take over. Her green-blue eyes looked over Sabine as she walked around the counter and came up to her to shake her hand.
“You must be Shin Hati. I’m Sabine Wren.”
Shin’s handshake was firm.
“How long has this bar been in your family?” Shin asked.
“Oh, just… my parents started it and I’m hoping to continue it.”
Sabine pursed her lips. Perhaps opening with how close to ruin this place was wasn’t the right way to begin the interview. She motioned for the nearest table.
“Please, sit.”
They sat opposite each other and Sabine flipped through her notebook until she found the right page. She had written down a few questions and what little information she thought Shin would need.
“I was really surprised when I saw your email. I mean, you’re like an actual cook.”
Shin frowned.
“Aren’t you looking for a cook?”
“Yeah, but I mean, I thought I would get applications from fast food people, not Calodan. Why the change of career?”
Shin seemed to chew her words before she spoke them, a small wrinkle between her eyebrows as she focused.
“The way I see it, it isn’t a change of career. I would still be cooking, right?”
“Oh yeah, absolutely. I’m looking for someone to replace my friend as soon as possible. I’m not firing him. He isn’t quitting either. His help was always temporary and he got the job he wanted, so…”
Sabine trailed off. She really wanted Shin to take the position. Wren Stronghold had a reputation for being a good bar, but outside of regulars these days, they didn’t get a lot of customers. She figured if anything could turn that around, it was good food.
Silence fell between them. Shin was leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, and Sabine didn’t know what to think of it. She cleared her throat.
“If you have any questions, I’m happy to answer them.”
“Do you have a menu? That would give me an idea of the kind of food you serve.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
Sabine stood up and picked up the small menu they offered. It wasn’t anything glorious, and all of it was your typical bar food, with big portions to share. Fries, three types of sandwiches, a cheeseburger, spicy wings, just the kind of greasy food drunk people craved. Shin looked over the list with furrowed eyebrows.
“And you expect me to follow the menu?”
Sabine didn’t like the haughty tone of the blonde. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from reminding her that she was the one who had applied.
“At first, sure, but once you’ve seen how we work here, what kind of clients we get, we can talk about changing some items on the menu.”
Shin’s lips pulled at the corner into a grimace.
“Is there anyone else in the kitchen beside your friend?”
“No. He’ll be gone by the end of the week, so you’ll have all the space you want.”
A hum. Sabine wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“When do you need me to start?”
“We can do a test tonight, see how everything goes.”
“Alright.”
Sabine had to stop herself from cheering. Finally, her luck seemed to be turning. She was going to save Wren Stronghold. She held out her hand with a smile, and Shin took it.
“Thank you. See you tonight.”
Shin wasn’t sure exactly the kind of mess she had gotten herself into until she arrived at five for her first shift at Wren Stronghold. She knew it had to be a mess, otherwise the owner – Sabine Wren – wouldn’t have had a friend as the cook for who knew how long. She just needed to figure out what kind of a mess. She hoped this test evening would reveal exactly that.
The current cook was a young man named Ezra Bridger. He didn’t even have a jacket. He cooked in an old tee-shirt, with an apron around his neck like a grandmother. Shin had put on her old cooking uniform, where the name ‘Calodan’ was still embroidered above her name. Ezra stood awkwardly beside her.
“Well, I mean I don’t really need to show you how everything works in the kitchen. I just wait for the orders and then I make them.”
“And you never get overrun?”
Ezra shrugged.
“There’s never enough orders for that.”
Shin frowned. How was the bar surviving if they had so few customers? Ezra glanced at the old clock on the wall and said:
“We can start on the fries; they usually fly off the shelves pretty fast.”
Shin expected him to pull a bag of potatoes from the pantry that they would need to prep. After all, Sabine hadn’t told her to come sooner to prep the food. Then, Ezra opened the freezer and pulled out a bag of frozen fries, which he set on the counter beside the fryer. He turned the machine and waited until the oil was hot.
“You don’t make your own fries?”
Ezra only shrugged.
“I’m not exactly a trained cook. I tried making them once but I burned them so bad I almost destroyed the fryer.”
He chuckled at the memory. Shin did not find it funny.
“Who was in charge of the kitchen before you?”
“That was Sabine’s dad, but we haven’t been able to find a damned thing about how he made them. It’s like he never wrote a single recipe down.”
“Why don’t you just ask him?”
Ezra’s expression turned grave.
“He’s gone.”
Shin had imagined a mess, but not this big of a mess. While Ezra checked the oil, she walked to the door between the bar and the kitchen with two grand steps. She passed her head through. In the bar, a handful of people had already gotten their drinks, but no one had ordered food yet. She spotted Sabine behind the bar, chatting up with an older man seated at the counter, with a pint of beer in his hand. Music was playing through the speakers.
“Miss Wren, can I speak with you for a minute?”
Sabine frowned and turned to her. She stepped away from her conversation and followed Shin to the kitchen.
“You can just call me Sabine. What’s up?”
“Did you know your fries are frozen?”
“Of course I do, but it’s the best we could do. If you want to change that, I’ll let you, obviously.”
“If I want to…”
Shin groaned.
“It doesn’t change the fact that tonight, we’ll be serving frozen fries.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, chef, but it’s a bit too late to get ten kilos of potatoes right now. Do your best with that. We’ll talk about changes later.”
Sabine returned into the bar room. Shin could just about strangle her. And here she thought for a second that this place could be a good springboard back to cooking in actual restaurants. Her reputation would be ruined if anyone learned of that. Behind her, Ezra plunged the frozen fries into the boiling oil. The sound they made, like a volcanic eruption, snapped Shin into action.
“What are you doing?” Ezra asked her as he watched her gather ingredients, like a tornado running through the kitchen.
Shin didn’t grace him with an answer. Ezra sighed.
“Fine, don’t tell me.”
At the bar, Sabine tried to dispel the spark of anger Shin had ignited. Not in front of the clients. Maybe hiring such a high-end chef had been a bad idea. So, what if they served frozen fries? Neither her nor Ezra had ever managed to make the fries like her father used to. He had been the real cook, the artist. Tristan had been his apprentice, not Sabine.
Sabine pushed the sorrowful thoughts aside when two of the regulars stepped in.
“Bolo, Ketch, what can I get you guys?”
“Hey Sabine,” Ketch replied. “Two beers and two fries.”
“And a turkey club,” Bolo added.
They always ordered the same thing, Sabine even wondered why she sometimes bothered asking them. She entered their orders in the terminal and went to pour them each their beers from the tap. Behind her, Ezra was bringing out the first fries to the tables. Sabine was glad Shin had come around with the fries.
A few minutes later, Ezra brought out two baskets of fries and the club sandwich. He handed them to Sabine so she would give them to the counter regulars. While the club sandwich looked normal, the fries looked more orange than usual, and a little cup of sauce sat beside them. When Sabine frowned at them, Ezra shrugged.
“Shin’s doing. I think she made a homemade mayo.”
“In ten minutes?”
Again, Ezra shrugged. With a slight uncertainty, Sabine placed the dishes in front of Bolo and Ketch. She tried not to stare as they took their first bites. While Ketch seemed to enjoy whatever Shin had done to his fries, Bolo coughed.
“Damn, Sabine, what is going on with the fries?”
She slid over to him.
“What do you mean?”
“They’ve got these flakes on ‘em, and they’re pretty spicy.”
“I just hired a new chef, I think she’s just trying things out.”
“Well, tell her to calm down with the spices, will you?”
Sabine pursed her lips. She’d never had anyone complain about anything the bar had served. She might even think that her parents had never received complaints either.
“Will you excuse me for a minute?”
She hurried into the kitchen. While Ezra was grilling the meat for a cheeseburger, Shin was plating another basket of fries. She had set a portion in a bowl and was adding a generous serving of spices – where had she even found them, Sabine wondered. Then, the blonde shook the bowl to spread the spices, and poured the fries in the basket.
“Chef, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Let me finish this.”
Shin grabbed the mixing bowl where she had prepared her mayonnaise and took a spoonful to pour it into a small serving cup.
“Now, please.”
Still, Shin took the time to clean the rim of the cup with an apron before she followed Sabine deeper into the small kitchen.
“What happened to ‘we’ll wait to make changes?’” Sabine asked.
Shin frowned.
“You told me to make the most of the situation.”
“I already got a complaint.”
“Because I added paprika to the fries?”
“Yes! We need the regulars and if you’re making them run off on your first day, then…”
Sabine wasn’t sure she wanted to finish that sentence. Shin crossed her arms, ire burning in her eyes.
“Then what? Say it.”
“Then I’m not sure I can hire you.”
Shin sneered.
“I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”
“You applied.”
“I don’t know why I thought it could be interesting to work here. I can see that I was wrong. Don’t change anything. Keep serving frozen food and subpart sandwiches to your customers. I’m out.”
Sabine gasped, outraged.
“I don’t want you here anyway!”
“Then this is for the best.”
“Yes, it is.”
Shin picked up her things from the cluttered office and walked to the kitchen door.
“Don’t call me for help when your business is sinking.”
“You’ll be last on my list.”
Shin pushed the kitchen door and marched through the bar to the front door. Sabine sighed. She should have known hiring someone like Shin Hati would be a bad idea.
“So, what do we do now?” Ezra asked.
Sabine wished she had an answer to that.