In such a large dining hall, the kitchen spaces provided for chefs are divided into several levels. The kitchen spaces for large chefs with large numbers of people are tens or even hundreds of square meters, while the kitchen spaces for chefs like Mag and Karulu, who have fewer people and more people, have kitchen spaces of tens or even hundreds of square meters. For a normal chef, the kitchen area is only a dozen square meters, which is almost a standard small kitchen.
Mag's kitchen station was in the corner, and the kitchen utensils were placed, just enough to fill the space on the stove. Mag looked at the clock and saw that it was still early, so he was not in a hurry to start cooking.
He didn't really care about the size of the kitchen. It was just the right size for him to operate alone, and it felt similar to the kitchen at home.
Kalulu and his son had also made preparations long ago. Although they would have to serve a lot of pickled cucumbers in a while, the cucumbers were already pickled and all they had to do was arrange them on the plate, so there was no rush.
With nothing to do, Mag also chatted with these three kind-looking father and son.
The small kitchen area is located in the northwest corner of the entire dining hall. There are not many people here. When the chefs look up here, their eyes are full of contempt, intentionally or unintentionally.
If there is a chain of contempt for the chefs in this restaurant, the cold dish chef, who is small in number and has difficulty getting on the stage, is obviously at the bottom of the chain.
It was rare for Kalulu to find a brother who shared the same illness, and he was also very willing to talk to Mag. This feeling of being able to talk to each other on an equal footing made him feel comfortable.
"Brother Mag, look at the largest kitchen in the north. The chef occupying that place is Bierman, who is known as the number one chef in the Los Empire. As the number one chef in the palace, he is responsible for the daily life of His Majesty the King. Food, and during this birthday, he will be responsible for 70% of the food on the table of the king and important guests, and the remaining 30% will be selected from the dishes made by other chefs present." Kalulu said with a bit of resentment .
"Will your pickle be chosen?"
"So far, there is no clear menu, but this kind of thing is like pie in the sky. Let's not expect too much. There are so many chefs, and one dish can be selected to be on the king's table. Then You can blow it for a lifetime." Karuru sighed and shook his head.
After a pause, Karuru looked at Mag again and comforted: "But don't be discouraged. You are still young. The future is yours. Maybe one year the king's birthday happens to be a cold dish, and you will be selected. Well, then you will become the best cold dish chef in the entire continent."
"I haven't learned how to make cold dishes yet..." Mag thought to herself, a bit dumbfounded. This uncle was really funny. The two fat guys would interject a word or two from time to time, so the time didn't seem boring at all.
This cooking is also a world of martial arts.
Bierman is the leader of the martial arts alliance. He dominates the others and his position is unshakable.
Those chefs who have signature dishes and know that they can consistently serve the king's table are famous in the world and have outstanding strength.
And those who have unique skills and have the opportunity to bring their own dishes to the king's table are all powerful rookies in the world. They are not weak in strength and are only a little lucky away from reaching the top.
As for people like Karuru, they belong to the group of people waving flags and shouting in the audience.
Anyway, how is the fight going on the stage, just to watch the fun, it is impossible that a martial arts leader will fall on his head from the sky, but he is very optimistic.
"Wheat, it's so late that we met each other. If I had met you earlier, I wouldn't have been so bored here a few years ago." Karuru patted Mag on the shoulder with a look of relief on his face.
"Look at the cucumber guy. This time he finally moved a step forward from the last position. But what does that guy do? There is only one person. Is there a simpler dish like cucumber shooting in this world?"
"Isn't there even peanuts mixed with it, hahaha!"
While Mag and Karuru were chatting, a burst of laughter came from several stalls nearby, and the sound was not shy at all.
Ruluka said angrily: "These guys! Even though they are making cold dishes, they still pretend to be more advanced!"
"It's just that the cold dishes they make are not as delicious as the pickled cucumbers made by my father. Isn't it just because they can make one more cold dish and bring two more people with them!" Lukaka also said angrily.
"Okay, don't be the same as them." Karulu waved his hand, looked at Mag and comforted him: "Brother Mag, don't be sad, you are still young, just make cold dishes well, and make three cold dishes for them in the future. Look. Then Nandri and Sibal are already old guys, and they have no other skills besides verbally attacking young people."
"Well, I'm fine." Mag nodded, feeling a little warm in his heart. This fat uncle was really heartwarming.
The words of Nandelli and Sibal also attracted a lot of attention to Mag. The people who came here were all well-known chefs from outside. This was the first time I saw someone coming to serve the king's birthday by himself.
However, since he was arranged in the last corner, everyone looked back with some boredom. Even the pickled cucumbers were lined up in front of him. What was there to look forward to with such a dish? This was placed on the table. The guy with the fancy kitchen utensils is probably just here for fun.
Mag, who was inexplicably despised, remained calm. He didn't need the approval of these guys anyway. Letting food speak is the best counterattack for a chef.
Kalulu was relieved when he saw that Mag's mentality was stable. It's not like there have never been chefs whose mentality collapsed before, and failed to perform at a normal level, which ruined their careers. He glanced at the time and said with a smile: "Okay. , Brother Mag, we are going to start setting up the dishes, you are the only one, remember to watch the time, don’t miss it.”
"Okay, I'm going to start preparing too." Mag smiled and nodded.
"Uncle Mag, are you really making peanuts? Salty or sweet?" Ruluka asked curiously.
Mag smiled and shook his head, "I don't make peanuts, but I like to eat salty peanuts."
"Okay, bastard, hurry up and put the plates. We need to put two hundred plates." Karuru gently hit Ruluka on the head and urged, taking out a large pot of pickled cucumbers and starting to put them on the plate.
Mag took a curious look. The pickled cucumbers cut into long strips were neatly placed on the plate. The light golden sauce was stained on them. A little green coriander was dotted on the edge of the plate. It looked refreshing and delicious. It will be very delicious if paired with a bowl of white porridge.
Withdrawing his gaze, Mag told the waiter standing not far away to start slaughtering the turkey, then took a knife from the knife rest and started processing various side dishes.
Braised chicken needs to be simmered for a long time, so preparation must be started in advance.
"Father, look, what Uncle Mag is really not making is peanuts, he is making chicken!"
Lukaka looked at the turkey brought over by the two waiters with a look of surprise on his face.
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