Dining Alone by Santich Barbara;

Author:Santich, Barbara;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: book, FYB, FIC003000
ISBN: 9781743052709
Publisher: Wakefield Press
Published: 2015-01-18T16:00:00+00:00

The Japanese, the chef, the old lady and the fish

Lisa Le Faucheur

A cute Japanese broad struts towards me. She smiles like she’s paid per tooth she flashes. She has long, shiny hair and a pair of heels to make a man’s eyes water. Her red dress fits in all the right places and is slit to mid-thigh. I try to smile back but I’m rusty and she’s shimmied right past me before I’ve so much as curled an upper lip.

I tear my eyes away and look around. The usual crowd of suits and secretaries on their boss’s tabs. Brokers waving their dollars around like they didn’t get burnt in the crash like everybody else.

‘Just one?’ Sure, sweetheart. It’s always a table for one, you know that as well as I do. I ask if chef is working today. She says chef works everyday. I ask what kind of a nut-job boss doesn’t have a day off every once in a while. She doesn’t like me talking about her boss like that.

She starts reciting the specials, but I interrupt: ‘Tell Frankie out the back it’s Jimmy Chess and I’ll have the usual.’ She looks at me hard. ‘With a glass of that burgundy I know he keeps out the back for his favourite customers.’ I smile properly this time and wink at her and she totters off as fast as those stilettos let her, head high, small bottom thrust out.

The Japanese returns with a glass of red.

‘Have a seat and I’ll buy you a cocktail.’

‘I’m working, and I doubt you can afford it. I didn’t think inspectors earned that much.’

‘Well, you’re a sassy one. What happened to the old waitress?’

‘She wasn’t old. She left. I’m the manager now.’

‘So how’s Frank? He been in a better mood since the competition bit the dust?’

She stares at me impassively. Smooth skin and large, baby eyes. Her mouth is painted red to match her dress.

‘Shame they had to close. What was it—food poisoning?’

‘I have no idea. Excuse me, I’m busy.’

If she was surprised she didn’t show it. Real poker face, that one. I preferred the old waitress. She was older, a little on the plump side, with fading blonde hair. She knew enough to be grateful for the attention she got. Waitresses don’t get tipped so well once they reach a certain age.

A waiter arrives at the next table and presents a large white plate, dotted with brown and green like paint blobs and a phallic shard of parmesan thrusting out of the middle. In amongst the mess that some sucker paid $80 for are slices of eel, black caviar and blood-red roe, and some brown squares that just might be foie gras.

That’s right, chef likes to play around with his cuisines. ‘Fusion’ they call it. On one plate you’ve got wasabi trying to make friends with roquefort, or sashimi tuna drizzled with red wine jus. Frankie does nothing by the book anymore, he smashes through every rule about cooking like they were personally invented to piss him off.

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