Yes Chef, No Chef

chapter Eleven



While Tim drove back down south that morning he suddenly wondered where Kate was staying, and felt his cheeks flush with shame because it had taken him a week to think about it. Defensively though, he decided this was because he’d been convinced she would have come back after a couple of days but when she hadn’t, and had moved out completely, well, he shook his head in amazement and whistled through his teeth - he still couldn’t quite believe she’d done it. She could, he supposed be at her mums house or at Lisa’s or Sarah’s. Or, if she was going to find somewhere on her own would she have enough money to finance it?

With his foot down hard on the gas and flying down the outside lane of the motorway he supposed that living his life through a haze of alcohol over the last few weeks hadn’t helped, and then it suddenly dawned upon him that his salary alone wouldn’t be enough to cover the rent on the apartment. Kate had always done their books and he made a mental note to look through the bank statements as soon as he got home and inevitably he’d have to talk to his dad.

A sudden flashing motorway signal up ahead made him slow down and remember the speeding ticket he’d got last month; after his first driving lesson with his dad he’d always loved speed and was guilty of driving at a fast pace. He decided to look for a service café to stop and eat breakfast because his stomach was growling with hunger.

Spotting a sign for a service station ahead he indicated to leave the motorway at the next exit and after parking he strode towards the main doors. The newspapers in the forecourt all had headlines about the up and coming royal wedding of Prince William. Hmm, he thought woefully, there’s another Kate but as attractive as the future princess was, he knew she wasn’t a patch on his Kate.

He thought of his Kate’s small face and soft brown hair and those big gentle eyes that could lure a man into bed from a distance. On the Sunday when she’d left she’d had her slim legs tucked into knee-high boots with a short skirt and her ample full breasts straining against a black jumper. Christ, he thought with such an urge of longing to be with her that the arousal in his jeans took him completely by surprise.

“Beans or tomatoes?” a middle-aged woman asked him at the counter in the café.

“Sorry?” he asked dumbly.

She sighed impatiently. “Do you want beans or tomatoes on your breakfast?”

Trying to get his mind off Kate and the throbbing in his pants, he answered. “Tomatoes, please,” and then moved further down the line to the cash desk.

The tables looked none too clean and an unmistakable smell of old fat hung around in the room. This was obviously one of The Little Chef cafes that Heston Blumenthal had missed out, he mused sarcastically and carried the plate of greasy fried food to a table. But he was starving and ate quickly without much more thought of what he was actually putting into his mouth because he’d had a flash of inspiration while he stared at Prince William’s photograph.

When he’d first started at the restaurant he’d wanted to make changes to the menu but Jack had resisted because of his loyal clientele who loved the existing meals. It was time for him to put his mark on the place now and wondered if he could try some royal dishes on the Victorian theme but with up-to-date twists. He’d read at the weekend that Nigel Slater thought the hippest ingredient at the moment was nostalgia, therefore some old recipes might go down well. His mind raced with ideas and leaving the last of the congealed breakfast he strode back to his old Chevrolet and jammed his foot back down all the way to London and his beloved kitchen.

“Wow! You look like you’ve had a good day off?” Jessie said delightedly. “You’re looking so much better and much happier.”

He beamed his thanks at her while prowling around the kitchen, ideas and thoughts buzzing through his mind.

“Is everything sorted for lunch time?” he asked although he knew it was unnecessary because he had utmost faith in her. “Do you need a hand?”

Smiling coyly at him while she chopped spring onions to go into a bowl of cous-cous, she said, “Nah, we’re OK, we’ve got it all covered.”

Simon poked his head over the shelving on the island. “When are the new guys starting, chef?”

Tim walked around to him and clapped him on the back. “One is coming tomorrow and the other next week but don’t feel under pressure; if we get a rush of customers I’ll step in and help out.”

The freckles on Simon’s face seemed to be dancing today as he vigorously whisked a sauce to an inch of its life and grinned at Tim.

Once he was satisfied the day’s plans were in order and preparations for lunch time service were underway he took his place at the end of the long stainless steel island in the middle of the kitchen. It was a large kitchen kept scrupulously clean with beige non-slip floor tiles, and above the island hung every shape and size of pan he could wish for. Three of the four walls were lined with stainless steel cupboards, ovens, hobs, grills, and a large commercial pizza oven filled nearly the whole of the fourth wall. The island had stainless steel shelving above the work benches with row upon row of serving plates and dishes but within these shelves he could still see and talk with Simon and Jessie as they worked alongside or opposite to him. At the other end of the kitchen, the closest to the front of house dining area, was a long waist-high bench for plating food before it was whisked away to the diners.

With a big note pad in front of him he began to scribble all the ideas down he’d had whilst driving and bubbles of excitement ran through him. This was what he loved, and this was what he was good at, and this, no matter what Jack thought, was what he was going to try in the restaurant. He would introduce a couple of new dishes each week and get himself out front to the customers for their feedback. If they were well-received then Jack would have no choice but to let him change the menu. And, by April 22nd he’d be ready to cook the new royal main courses and desserts – he’d call it a royal banquet.

When he explained his ideas to Jessie and Simon she emptied all the cupboards looking for moulds, tart liners, flan cases, and pie tins, and piled them up on the long service bench. She offered to go out shopping for jelly moulds in different shapes, patterns, and sizes while Tim poured over lots of recipes in old books and on the internet.

When Jessie returned with bags full of ingredients he started making champagne, rosewater, and elderflower jelly which he filled into the moulds. There were shapes of shells, rose baskets, pineapples, grapes, and a large Belgrave mould with internal spiral columns. He coloured some of the more basic flavoured jellies and layered the colours in the moulds which looked amazing when he tipped them out onto the large serving plate. The gentle elderflower and rosewater flavour profiles in the jelly were superb and both Simon and Jessie, who should have left for home earlier, stayed on watching in awe at his skill and expertise.

“I can’t believe what fantastic and important looking things you can make just out of a few simple ingredients?” Jessie enthused.

Tim beamed at her adoration. “Neither could I when I first started. But once I’d found my niche, well, it becomes easy after a while, any job does when you love doing it - and creating new recipes is what I love.”

He worked feverously over the next two days developing a custard pastry using an old recipe which he tweaked to enhance the flavour and lined a flan tin that Jessie had found in the shape of the Tudor - Windsor Rose, and then filled another round mould to hold shaped compartments of coloured jellies. Full of excitement Simon offered to look on Amazon to find some old copper pie moulds for Tim’s idea of stuffed game pies, and then Jessie was entranced when he filled a sun and a half-moon shaped mould with a new variety of white custard and Madagascan flavouring. The whole kitchen buzzed with Tim’s enthusiasm and Simon and Jessie were swept along with him. The development carried on through the next three days and by Friday they filled the serving table with all the products they’d made. It was a marvellous sight and Jessie took photographs to download for the menus.

Deciding to try the desserts first he added them to the next night’s menus and just when he was wondering whether to tell Jack or not, he came into the kitchen. Begrudgingly he had to admit that they looked and tasted delicious and although he agreed to try them on the menu he remained cautious.

Thankfully they were a huge success and Tim proudly walked amongst the diners noting their comments about flavours and textures – he was in his element and began work on the main courses for the following week.