Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
And Crystal was happy to have us closer to her.
Camillo hired a wonderful chef to be my mentor in this test restaurant of his. I’d learned a great deal under his tutelage, and I was closer than ever to achieving my dream. He taught me all of the techniques I would’ve learned in culinary school and tested me just like a school would have. Pretty soon, I was challenging him in the kitchen with tastes, plate designs, and food pairings.
Camillo beamed with pride every time he dropped in on us and heard me bucking up to my mentor.
I was confident my venture would be a success. I’d always wanted to own and operate my own restaurant, and with the skills I’d learned and Camillo’s support, I knew I could do it. People came for miles to our little test restaurant in order to sample the flavors and partake in my latest concoctions, and there was always a positive, raving review in the newspaper the next day.
The city loved my food, and I knew I would finally achieve the dream I’d set out to achieve when I was eighteen.
Now, it was December twenty-eighth. My birthday. Christmas had come and gone, and the massive surprise Camillo had for me was plans to build a restaurant in the heart of the city. I’d squealed and threw my arms around his neck, but what I would later come to find was that he had already built it. He’d found my random sketches and artistic suggestions for what my dream restaurant would one day become, and he handed them over to an architect and interior design expert to bring to life. With his promise of forever sparkling on my left hand and my family sitting at one of the restaurant’s V.I.P. tables, it was time for the restaurant to open its doors to the public.
It was time for me to make my debut as Chef Moretti.
Camillo had worked hard to keep the restaurant a secret from me, but he’d worked even harder to promote it. So on opening night, on my birthday, a line of excited customers stretched down the block. I was in the back, prepping for the dinner rush with employees he’d hired behind my back, calling out commands into a kitchen I could now call my own. I was expecting an insane night that would keep me here well into the early morning hours, and I smiled from ear to ear as I thought about it.
I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I had my husband to thank for all this. For the restaurant and for encouraging me to continue pursuing my dreams. He was the one that had chased behind Ana for the past year, and he was the one that took care of the boys’ schooling issues. I watched as Camillo weaved around chairs, chasing our wild three-year old around while she giggled and cried out for “more playtime.” Camillo swooped her up into his arms and slathered her face with kisses, trying to get her out of sight before people started filing in to sit down.
And all the while, the boys were sitting at the table, doing their school work.
They loved the middle school they had been enrolled in. They were in a great deal of classes together and were quickly making friends in the city. They frequently had friends over to play video games and eat all our food, and I took it as an opportunity to try out new snacks and finger foods with their friends. Of course, the boys would eat anything I put in front of them, but the more practice I could gain, the better off I knew I would be.
Life couldn’t have gotten more perfect than this.
The door to the restaurant opened and in poured the people. Men and women of all different races, backgrounds, and social classes were spilling into the seats, and the waitstaff was quickly taking drink orders. The bar was in full swing as I started grabbing appetizer plates to stick at my station. Then I made my rounds to make sure everyone had everything they needed to make this night a rousing success.
Then, I heard the first ticket order come through, and I ripped it from the printing station before I turned toward the kitchen.
“I need two orders of the toasted brioche rounds with the creme fraiche and the caviar on both. And one order of olive straws!”
I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw Camillo beaming, waving at me while the boys cheered me on. I felt tears rise to my eyes as I took a deep breath, listening as the tickets began pouring in from the main room. I ripped them off and continued to call out order after order, then I made my way into the middle of the kitchen and started preparing the massive lamb shanks that were on the menu for tonight.
Yes. Life could not have been more perfect than this.
The End