Chương 114: Le Château's Secret-Menu Night

The reconciliation with Nathan made Chris's days in the kitchen far easier. The work was still hard, the pressure still enormous, but he no longer felt that invisible rejection and isolation. The way the others looked at him had changed too — from the early contempt and curiosity to something now closer to awe and acceptance. Daniel had been moved out of the core kitchen, demoted to the restaurant's subsidiary bakery.

That, too, served as a silent warning, making everyone understand that at Le Château, skill and professional ethics mattered more than seniority. At that morning's meeting, the mood was unusual. Chef Vincent himself, rarely, appeared at the meeting. Everyone stood ramrod straight, waiting for the chef's word.

"Once a month, there is one day we suspend dinner service to the public." Vincent's voice was calm and firm, echoing through the quiet kitchen.

"On that day, the kitchen serves only twelve special guests. We call it Secret-Menu Night." Something stirred in Chris. He thought he'd heard the kitchen's veterans mention the tradition.

"These twelve guests are New York's most elite critics, its best-known food writers, and certain peers from the restaurant world," Vincent went on.

"They taste, anonymously, new dishes created by our young chefs. It is a tradition — the core mechanism by which Le Château trains its next generation of chefs. Many chefs who now command their own reputations were born, in their first signature dish, on this night." A faint stir ran through the kitchen. Every young chef's eyes brightened, their breathing quickening. This was not just an internal review — it was a rare chance to present yourself to the entire New York food world.

If someone's dish shone on this night, it was nearly a leap straight to the top.

"This year's Secret-Menu Night is set for two weeks from now." Vincent's gaze swept over the room and finally landed on two people.

"Chris White."

"Yes, Chef!" Chris's pulse began to climb.

"Daniel Moore." The already-demoted Daniel froze. He hadn't expected another chance. He lifted his head, moved, and answered loudly.

"Yes, Chef!"

"The two of you will each design and execute a wholly new dish for this evaluation," Vincent announced.

"The twelve judges will score your dishes anonymously. Whoever scores higher — his dish will have the chance to join Le Château's official menu next season." Everyone was stunned. They hadn't expected Vincent to give Daniel a shot at redemption, and even less that he'd hand one of these precious slots to Chris, barely a month in. This wasn't a simple review anymore. It was a trust and an expectation that bordered on breaking the rules. This story originates from Royal Road.

Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Chris felt a rush of heat go to his head. He knew this was his best chance to prove himself at Le Château — in all of New York, even. No longer simply executing someone else's menu; now he had to put forward something genuinely his own. It was a harsher, more professional test than the finale of Burning Kitchen. Right then, the long-locked Arena Module in his head suddenly flickered.

[Special competition event detected: "Le Château Secret-Menu Night."] [Event tier: Grade A (regional top level).] [Objective: Earn an overall evaluation of Grade A or above in this evaluation.] [Reward: Unlocks "Global Culinary Champion League" qualification Condition Two (earn an overall evaluation of Grade A or above in at least one open international culinary competition).] Chris's heart slammed. So that's it.

This Secret-Menu Night was directly tied to whether he could unlock that mysterious Global Culinary Champion League. He'd assumed he'd still need to go enter some public cooking competition — and here the chance had been delivered straight to him. He had to win. No — he had to do more than beat Daniel. He had to conquer those twelve most exacting judges with his work and take the Grade A. He glanced at Daniel beside him.

Daniel's eyes were full of tangled feeling — gratitude, resentment, but more than anything a burn-the-boats resolve. He knew this was his last chance. He would put forward every last thing he had. Chris clenched his fists too. A real duel was about to unfold, two weeks out. After the meeting, the whole kitchen's mood turned delicate. People began whispering, debating who had the better odds — Chris or Daniel.

"Daniel's been here two years, after all. He knows Le Château's style inside out. He'll do a grand French dish, very safe."

"But Chris can't be underestimated either. He's the one who got Chef Vincent himself to nod. His ideas are bound to run wild." Chris ignored the chatter. He went back to his apartment, took out paper and pen, and began mapping out his dish. What should he make? He opened the system for advice. The Dish Simulation module immediately offered several options. Option One: pan-seared foie gras with fig jam and a port reduction.

Classic, luxurious, in keeping with a three-star restaurant's positioning, technically demanding — projected score above 90. Option Two: sous-vide turbot fillet with caviar and a champagne foam. Expensive ingredients, refined presentation, a favorite with critics — projected score above 91. Option Three: … Everything the system offered was an obvious "safe card" — dishes that looked instantly grand and absolutely couldn't go wrong.

They fit Le Château's style perfectly, and matched the public's image of a three-star restaurant. But looking at them, Chris kept feeling something was missing. Missing… something of his own. He thought back to the three dishes that had won him the Burning Kitchen championship — that Potato Trilogy. He'd won not because he used pricier ingredients, and not because his technique outclassed Ethan's, but because those three dishes held his story, his soul.

And he thought again of Vincent's verdict: Your potato is better than it looked on television, but in my kitchen, this only passes. Passing… The word was a splinter lodged in his chest. He hadn't come to Le Château to learn how to make a dish that "passed," and certainly not to copy the classics already on the menu. He'd come to prove that with the most ordinary ingredient, he could make food that left even a three-star chef in awe. A bold idea surfaced in his mind.

He would settle this, once again, with the potato. On Le Château's stage, he would make the potato dish Vincent had called "far above passing." He would prove to everyone that ingredients had no high or low, no noble or humble — that only a chef's care and craft set one apart from another. He picked up the pen and, on the white paper, wrote down, with deliberate weight, the name of his dish.