Post by Tyler Scott on Jan 15, 2018 15:59:28 GMT -5
“I will have some Sake.”
The dark-haired waitress takes down the drinks order as Tyler Scott peruses the menu.
This evening, Tyler is dining in the only Japanese restaurant in town. The restaurant “Power, Honor and Gyoza” is said to be named after the mantra of its owner and head chef, Mr Yuki.
Mr Yuki was once awarded the best upcoming and coming ramen chef working in the United States. He had worked under many other talented chefs in his earlier career, gaining valuable experience and a glowing reputation along the way. He branched out, moved into a new neighbourhood and opened his own ramen establishment. Mr Yuki’s place was, and still is, the only Japanese restaurant in the town. He offered something different which made him stand out amongst the traditional cuisine - the dingy American diners and steak houses. As a result, Mr Yuki attracted a lot of attention from the locals. Word of his distinctive oriental style soon travelled through the community and business picked up. On this Thursday night, the restaurant was full as Tyler Scott sat down to feast.
“What is the Kyoto Krush?” Tyler enquires as he assesses the starters.
The American waitress begrudgingly explains, her demeanour a little grumpy and unenthused, “That Sir is a large Japanese dumpling with a filling of fermented bean and shrimp, floating in a bowl of miso soup.”
“Urgh.” Tyler replies. “Sounds horrible. But also reminds me of someone. Let’s try it!”
“Ok Sir.” The waitress scribbles down the order “Anything else?”
“I fancy some ramen. Can you recommend your best ramen dish?”
The waitress predictably promotes the most expensive dish on the menu. “The chefs signature dish is the Mt Fuji Ramen. He learnt this very special secret recipe whilst training at the Azumazeki cookery school on the foothills on Mt Fuji”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Spare me the boring back story.” Tyler dismissively waves the menu in the waitresses face. “I will try that too. Let’s see how good the chef actually is.” As the waitress takes the menu, Tyler takes a sneaky look at her name badge.
“ Thanks Alexa.” He says with a cheeky but disingenuous grin.
After devouring a big floating dumpling and knocking back a couple of sake chasers, the special noodles appear from the kitchen. Alexa guides the noodles to Tyler’s table like a valet accompanying a boxer, heading to the ring for battle. She slides the ramen onto the table and retreats, leaving Tyler to inspect the meal before him.
The noodles are thick but also pale and limp at the same time. They swim around in almost transparent broth, monochrome, with only the odd slice of ginger and garlic for company. It didn’t look appetising but nor did it look disgusting - it was indifferent. Tyler wonders what all the fuss is about. What is so special about this dish? Perhaps one cannot judge a book by its cover. Perhaps this unassuming dish is actually full of flavour - a clear broth packing a punch.
Sccchhhhhhlllluuuuuuuuuurrrrrppppp!
A noodle wiggles and worms as Tyler Scott forcefully sucks it up. Hot chicken broth sprays in all directions, splashing the other diners unfortunate enough to be in close proximity.
Having finished the bowl of ramen he make a glance over to the waitress, who immediately shuffles across to attend to him. “How was everything, Sir?”
“Not bad.” He bemoans. “A little bland. I would have expected more from the chef’s special dish.” Tyler wipes his mouth down with a napkin slowly and purposefully, making the waitress wait for him. He then scrunches the napkin up and throws it down into his empty bowl.
“I demand to see the chef.” He drives a chopstick down onto the table, thick end first.
“But Sir...” Alexa says but Tyler immediately cuts her off.
“I want to see the chef who cooked this meal!”
“Ok. One moment Sir. I will ask the chef to come out.”
“No. Don’t worry. I will go into the kitchen.” Tyler pushes back his chair with a metallic scrape and screech on the tile floor.
“No Sir you can’t” Alexa steps in front of Tyler in a valiant gesture of loyalty to her employer.
“Yes. I can and I will.” Tyler strolls past Alexa with ease. Whilst Alexa tries to speak up and prevent Tyler from getting near to her employer, she is shrugged aside. She offers no real resistance and Tyler skips through the kitchen doors.
Once in the kitchen, Tyler sees a tall well-built (some might say ‘plump’) Japanese man with a tall white chefs hat on. Noodles and vegetables fly through the air as he tosses a flame licked wok back and forth. Looking up from the stove, the chef is startled by Tyler Scott’s unannounced and unauthorised presence in his kitchen. He drops the wok and water chestnuts scattered across the counter top. Taking a step back, he goes to speak but Tyler Scott cuts him off with the raising of a hand.
“Ah Mr Yuki. Nice to see you.”
“What do you...” again the chef is interrupted.
“No need to be alarmed. I just wanted to provide a little feedback on your cooking. The Mr Fuji noodles, or whatever you call them -they were bland. it needs more chilli and more salt. More fucking everything. That is supposed to be your signature dish man. It’s weak. It needs work”.
Mr Yuki, unconcerned about he man’s criticism of his cooking, challenges him. “Who are you and why are you here?”.
“Ahh a man who gets straight to the point, a ‘simple’ man. I like that. Normally I like to string these things out and honour myself with silly metaphors about how your shit your noodles are a reflection on how shit you are at paying your debts, but have it your way.” Tyler wanders aimlessly around the kitchen, fiddling with hanging woks, knocking them together like wind chimes. “I am here because my boss Mr Smith, who by extension is also your boss, has requested that I pop over to see you.”
A realisation dawns on Mr Yuki. He knew it was only a matter of time before this caught up with him. He had been struggling to stick to his arrangements and had been portraying a facade to his family, friends and employees that everything was ok. However, he could no longer hide his inadequacies and failures. He had been caught out. Mr Yuki was a weak man pretending to be successful - a charlatan, a fake, a liar. Tyler Scott had found him out and was here to hold him to account.
“You have not been paying your fees, Mr Yuki.” Tyler explains what Mr Yuki already knows. “You know the rules. In this neighbourhood, you can be very successful. Passing trade is great. The local hipsters have plenty of money to spend on overpriced and very mediocre noodles. This is a good spot to do business, right?”
Tyler continues to stroll around the kitchen, nibbling on prawn crackers and fingering the black bean sauce.
Picking up a small paring knife, Tyler turns back to Mr Yuki. “But Mr Yuki, you know that comes at a price. You know that if you are going to be successful here, in this town, that is solely dependant on keeping me and my bosses happy. If you do not pay your fair share, you and your business will be destroyed.”
“So, Mr Yuki. I shall ask this only once. Do you have my bosses money?
“Please. I...I try to get the money but times are tough.” Mr Yuki stutters.
“That sounds like a lame excuse.” Tyler looks unimpressed. “Look out there. Your restaurant is full. You must be making loads of money.”
Mr Yuki continues with his stumbling justification. “Yes but there are other expenses. I have to pay rent. My employees need to be paid.”
“What? That miserable emo chick out there? I have an idea. Sack Alexa. Her wages should go a long way towards your debts. Besides, she is a pretty shit waitress.” Tyler shrugs his shoulders as if it was an easy decision.
“But I need waitresses.”
“No Mr Yuki, you need to pay!” Tyler drives the paring knife down into a chopping board, leaving it swaying from side to side. “I am sorry. That was excessive. I apologise. You are cutting a fine line. I can be lenient this once but my patience will only last so long.”
With that Tyler turns and walks towards the exit to the kitchen.
“Mr Yuki - you have one week. Time is running out.”
The dark-haired waitress takes down the drinks order as Tyler Scott peruses the menu.
This evening, Tyler is dining in the only Japanese restaurant in town. The restaurant “Power, Honor and Gyoza” is said to be named after the mantra of its owner and head chef, Mr Yuki.
Mr Yuki was once awarded the best upcoming and coming ramen chef working in the United States. He had worked under many other talented chefs in his earlier career, gaining valuable experience and a glowing reputation along the way. He branched out, moved into a new neighbourhood and opened his own ramen establishment. Mr Yuki’s place was, and still is, the only Japanese restaurant in the town. He offered something different which made him stand out amongst the traditional cuisine - the dingy American diners and steak houses. As a result, Mr Yuki attracted a lot of attention from the locals. Word of his distinctive oriental style soon travelled through the community and business picked up. On this Thursday night, the restaurant was full as Tyler Scott sat down to feast.
“What is the Kyoto Krush?” Tyler enquires as he assesses the starters.
The American waitress begrudgingly explains, her demeanour a little grumpy and unenthused, “That Sir is a large Japanese dumpling with a filling of fermented bean and shrimp, floating in a bowl of miso soup.”
“Urgh.” Tyler replies. “Sounds horrible. But also reminds me of someone. Let’s try it!”
“Ok Sir.” The waitress scribbles down the order “Anything else?”
“I fancy some ramen. Can you recommend your best ramen dish?”
The waitress predictably promotes the most expensive dish on the menu. “The chefs signature dish is the Mt Fuji Ramen. He learnt this very special secret recipe whilst training at the Azumazeki cookery school on the foothills on Mt Fuji”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Spare me the boring back story.” Tyler dismissively waves the menu in the waitresses face. “I will try that too. Let’s see how good the chef actually is.” As the waitress takes the menu, Tyler takes a sneaky look at her name badge.
“ Thanks Alexa.” He says with a cheeky but disingenuous grin.
After devouring a big floating dumpling and knocking back a couple of sake chasers, the special noodles appear from the kitchen. Alexa guides the noodles to Tyler’s table like a valet accompanying a boxer, heading to the ring for battle. She slides the ramen onto the table and retreats, leaving Tyler to inspect the meal before him.
The noodles are thick but also pale and limp at the same time. They swim around in almost transparent broth, monochrome, with only the odd slice of ginger and garlic for company. It didn’t look appetising but nor did it look disgusting - it was indifferent. Tyler wonders what all the fuss is about. What is so special about this dish? Perhaps one cannot judge a book by its cover. Perhaps this unassuming dish is actually full of flavour - a clear broth packing a punch.
Sccchhhhhhlllluuuuuuuuuurrrrrppppp!
A noodle wiggles and worms as Tyler Scott forcefully sucks it up. Hot chicken broth sprays in all directions, splashing the other diners unfortunate enough to be in close proximity.
Having finished the bowl of ramen he make a glance over to the waitress, who immediately shuffles across to attend to him. “How was everything, Sir?”
“Not bad.” He bemoans. “A little bland. I would have expected more from the chef’s special dish.” Tyler wipes his mouth down with a napkin slowly and purposefully, making the waitress wait for him. He then scrunches the napkin up and throws it down into his empty bowl.
“I demand to see the chef.” He drives a chopstick down onto the table, thick end first.
“But Sir...” Alexa says but Tyler immediately cuts her off.
“I want to see the chef who cooked this meal!”
“Ok. One moment Sir. I will ask the chef to come out.”
“No. Don’t worry. I will go into the kitchen.” Tyler pushes back his chair with a metallic scrape and screech on the tile floor.
“No Sir you can’t” Alexa steps in front of Tyler in a valiant gesture of loyalty to her employer.
“Yes. I can and I will.” Tyler strolls past Alexa with ease. Whilst Alexa tries to speak up and prevent Tyler from getting near to her employer, she is shrugged aside. She offers no real resistance and Tyler skips through the kitchen doors.
Once in the kitchen, Tyler sees a tall well-built (some might say ‘plump’) Japanese man with a tall white chefs hat on. Noodles and vegetables fly through the air as he tosses a flame licked wok back and forth. Looking up from the stove, the chef is startled by Tyler Scott’s unannounced and unauthorised presence in his kitchen. He drops the wok and water chestnuts scattered across the counter top. Taking a step back, he goes to speak but Tyler Scott cuts him off with the raising of a hand.
“Ah Mr Yuki. Nice to see you.”
“What do you...” again the chef is interrupted.
“No need to be alarmed. I just wanted to provide a little feedback on your cooking. The Mr Fuji noodles, or whatever you call them -they were bland. it needs more chilli and more salt. More fucking everything. That is supposed to be your signature dish man. It’s weak. It needs work”.
Mr Yuki, unconcerned about he man’s criticism of his cooking, challenges him. “Who are you and why are you here?”.
“Ahh a man who gets straight to the point, a ‘simple’ man. I like that. Normally I like to string these things out and honour myself with silly metaphors about how your shit your noodles are a reflection on how shit you are at paying your debts, but have it your way.” Tyler wanders aimlessly around the kitchen, fiddling with hanging woks, knocking them together like wind chimes. “I am here because my boss Mr Smith, who by extension is also your boss, has requested that I pop over to see you.”
A realisation dawns on Mr Yuki. He knew it was only a matter of time before this caught up with him. He had been struggling to stick to his arrangements and had been portraying a facade to his family, friends and employees that everything was ok. However, he could no longer hide his inadequacies and failures. He had been caught out. Mr Yuki was a weak man pretending to be successful - a charlatan, a fake, a liar. Tyler Scott had found him out and was here to hold him to account.
“You have not been paying your fees, Mr Yuki.” Tyler explains what Mr Yuki already knows. “You know the rules. In this neighbourhood, you can be very successful. Passing trade is great. The local hipsters have plenty of money to spend on overpriced and very mediocre noodles. This is a good spot to do business, right?”
Tyler continues to stroll around the kitchen, nibbling on prawn crackers and fingering the black bean sauce.
Picking up a small paring knife, Tyler turns back to Mr Yuki. “But Mr Yuki, you know that comes at a price. You know that if you are going to be successful here, in this town, that is solely dependant on keeping me and my bosses happy. If you do not pay your fair share, you and your business will be destroyed.”
“So, Mr Yuki. I shall ask this only once. Do you have my bosses money?
“Please. I...I try to get the money but times are tough.” Mr Yuki stutters.
“That sounds like a lame excuse.” Tyler looks unimpressed. “Look out there. Your restaurant is full. You must be making loads of money.”
Mr Yuki continues with his stumbling justification. “Yes but there are other expenses. I have to pay rent. My employees need to be paid.”
“What? That miserable emo chick out there? I have an idea. Sack Alexa. Her wages should go a long way towards your debts. Besides, she is a pretty shit waitress.” Tyler shrugs his shoulders as if it was an easy decision.
“But I need waitresses.”
“No Mr Yuki, you need to pay!” Tyler drives the paring knife down into a chopping board, leaving it swaying from side to side. “I am sorry. That was excessive. I apologise. You are cutting a fine line. I can be lenient this once but my patience will only last so long.”
With that Tyler turns and walks towards the exit to the kitchen.
“Mr Yuki - you have one week. Time is running out.”
